Sorry Dada

[Nikhar]

-----------------------------------------

Oh, just one thing. I realized it some time ago, your feelings are sometimes not reflected the way you want by your keyboard and sometimes sincere comments may sound rude.

I just realized, when I request for something, for example,maybe a few instances where the critic found an error, some people may mistake it as a challenge to their comments. But my requests are simply requests. So, please forgive me if ever unintentionally, I may have been rude.

And another thing, if anyone feels I try to be over-humble, my intentions are just of being polite. I don't think heated arguments are the best routes to friendships. :)

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I'd appreciate it tons if you could take the time to comment on it.:)

Criticisms and appreciations are both heartily welcomed.

Sorry Dada

I rushed through the front doors and galloped straight towards the reception with my heart performing on a trampoline. The conventional smell of medicines that one could easily relate to the hospitals instilled in me a mild wave of nausea.


‘Ramlal Dinkar?’ I puffed.

The receptionist, on the phone, did not seem to pay heed to my interests. ‘You don’t say so? .... Aw….you ain’t gonna do that ? You would! ..... How seriously-truly-obscenely wicked of you! ’ She gave a hysteric laugh.

There was a metallic clang as the elevator landed beyond the foyer. People, all sorts of them, hurried out as the doors quivered open.

‘Ramlal Dinkar?’ I repeated, this time more forcefully and with a certain tone of exasperation, tapping my fingers on the mahogany.

The receptionist did not seem pleased. With an expression, as if someone had stuffed a week’s unwashed sock in her nose, she fed the computer with some information and muttered, ‘606!’

I ran across the room, scurrying past the trays and carriages, round the huge sofa. The elevator was almost full. The doors shuddered together and began to close. Squeezing through the crowd, pushing away people en route, I made a huge leap towards the elevator. I wedged my left foot between the doors and shoved them apart.

The doors engulfed me inside the cavernous elevator. As the machinery started inside the shaft, I heard the receptionist say, ‘Aw…. he left you despite knowing that you were sick! SICK!’

The elevator slowly rose. I chanced a look around. Besides me, trusted to a nurse was a cadaverous old man in a wheelchair. His head was lolled onto one side and his hollow eyes stared into infinity. Life had deserted him, at least in a spiritual sense. I was immediately absorbed in a pensive mood.

‘Oh mom, com’on! It’s my last year at school. I have to go on the tour. All my friends are!’ I spoke in an assertive tone, on the verge of breaking into tantrums.

‘I don’t know son.’ My mother looked uneasy. ‘Your grandpa’s been so ill lately.’

‘Oh dada’s so strong, he’d-’

I was interrupted by a slow and familiar screech of my Grandpa’s wheelchair. He slowly drove towards us and a few yards from me, came to a halt.

He had grown pale and extremely thin over the last few days. He coughed more often than he breathed. A moment of indecision had caught me.

I moved towards him and sat on my knees. I held his hands in mine and spoke, ‘Dada, my school’s going on a trip and…..’

He, in his calm manner, gently caressed his hands over my head and spoke, ‘Go.’ His lips turned into an upward concave, his sagging skin more profound than ever. He, then, coughed.

Almost mechanically, I walked out of the elevator, oblivious to my surroundings.

‘The tour was a blast mom. Awesomely dawsomely fabulous!’ I performed a little pirouette on the spot.

‘Dada….. Dada…..’ I shouted. No one replied. An alien feel seemed to have settled in the house. ‘Where’s dada, mom?’

I shot a questioning cum tensed glance at her. The truth already began to prick me. She did not answer but only wept. Her silent tears completed the story. I felt like a goat who had been heavily fed before being slaughtered.

A guilty teen looked up at me from the white vinyl below. I felt terrible, sunk into the deep abyss of contrition.
Involuntarily, I stopped in front of a door. ‘606’ was plainly stenciled upon it. I placed my hand on the knob but did not turn it. There was a certain eagerness to look beyond but it was accompanied by an acute dread of the outcome. The door for some reason, was the heaviest I had ever encountered. It took a great amount of fortitude to spin that small protrusion.

The room was brightly illuminated by the stark fluorescent lights providing a shimmering aura to all the objects within the room. Right in front of me, was a high bed and on it lay a frail body. For a moment I visualized the bed floating amidst a sea of clouds, with bright beams of light focused on it from all four directions, carefree of material possessions.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the chest on the bed heave ever so slightly. I rushed towards the bed and set on the stool. I looked at him intently. He seemed asleep and even the oxygen mask couldn’t conceal the tranquil smile on his face. He had grown extremely pale and weak. Contrary to the gloomy ambience, he appeared like a white expanse of pure serenity.

I was so lost that it took me quite some time to register the beep of the cardiac monitors and the hiss of the respirators. The profusion of intravenous bottles and lines connected to the impaled blood vessels by sharp needles unhinged me slightly.

I closed my hands on his wrinkled arm and whispered, ‘Dada?’. He opened his eyes slowly and turned his head to face me. His smile broadened and an intense satisfaction seemed to have embraced him as if he had just completed his four holy pilgrimages. A tear swam out of his watery blue eyes; a tear that appeared to have been yearning for freedom for a long time.

He tried to get up, to speak, oblivious of his physical incapability to do so. A doctor, whose presence I was ignorant of until now, seized him by his shoulder and helped him settle comfortable on the bed. ‘Injection time.’ He smiled as a gesture of amiability.

The needle on his syringe was about three and a half inches long and a sparkle of light danced off its shaft. He pushed it into dada’s arms, all the way to the hilt. Dada gave a dry gasp of pain. My skin crawled at the thought of the needle piercing though his arms into his tissues as the dark red blood swirled up in the clear solution.

‘Ow! God! Ow! It hurts!’ I leaped on one foot holding the other one in my hand trying to locate the pike.

‘Oh come on here now. You’re such a strong guy.’ My dada spoke. He took my foot in his hands and searched for the culprit.

‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’

‘You’re a strong guy. Superman, eh? My 10 year old little superman. Ah…here’s it. Close your eyes… its gonna be painless. Yes… here it is…here!’

I slowly opened one of my eyes and realized that the pain was gone. ‘Its gone! Thank you dada!’. And I jumped into his laps, wriggling and laughing.

I shuddered at my helplessness as I saw all those sharp needles piercing those fragile veins of his. All I could do was place my hand on his. His strained body relaxed and his smile returned.

He continued to look at me with those calm blue eyes of his. He couldn’t speak; he seemed to be communicating with his eyes.

‘Did you enjoy the tour?’

It was the last straw. Guilt swam its way out on tears. I placed my head on his arm and cried- profusely, loudly. My soul was shattered, lost in the chasm of misery.

It took me quite some time to get hold of myself. I realized that I did not want his sacred ash to be flown in the sea of my tears. I wanted his departure with a heart that was satisfied and I knew that my tears weren’t the apt farewell gift. I wiped them off with my sleeves.

My hand was relaxing on my thighs when dada reached out for it and circled his fingers around my first finger. He had a sort of an assured look and he closed his eyes.

‘It’s really scary! It’s toooo dark!’ I was walking alongside grandpa in a forlorn alleyway.

‘It’s going to be fine, son. You trust me?’

I nodded. He stretched out his hand towards me. I caught hold of his finger with my puny hand. A sense of security comforted me and I knew then, that I was not afraid to cross that alley.

The grip on my finger loosened. The cardiac monitor blipped loudly, the pattern went barmy. The peaks slowly began to flatten. There was a sudden rush in the room. ‘Hurry, Hurry! The paddles…fast!’

The doctor placed the paddles on dada’s chest. His right thumb made contact and a powerful electric charge spread through the chest, arcing from one paddle to another. His body jerked upwards; his arms flopped across his chest with his hands twisting inwards. The doctor repeated the procedure- once, twice but the lines on the monitor had gone flat-completely.

While dada was momentarily in the air, I knew he wouldn’t have to return to this delinquent world.

***

I rummaged through the drawer. ‘Mom, where’s my medical file. I need it for the interview. Mom!

‘Here , Ravi.’ My mother handed me the file and rushed back for the kitchen.

I turned the first few pages.

Name: - Ravi Dinkar
Cause: - Appendix
Date: - 12 June, 1999

A small piece of paper flew out of my file. I reached out for it and found it to be a railway reservation.

A wave of repentance washed me away. I hurried out of my room to my dada’s rocking chair.

I knelt besides it, closed my eyes and muttered, ‘Sorry Dada.’ A silent trickle of tear ran down my eyes.

The ticket in my hand was booked for Ramlal Dinkar, 12 June, 1999 for Amarnath. But the ticket had never been used….

[Chilly]

Ha, I knew all along that this one had to be yours.

The topic, the writing style, you posting both your last stories for feedback in September, it all pointed to this being your story.

I bet you can't guess which story I wrote.


Anyways, The thing that bothered me the most was how you didn't connect that date, June 12, to the day he hung out with his friends instead of being with his grandpa (or at least that's why I figured the date was for). It left me wondering what was he doing on that day instead of 'oh, that was the day he disobeyed, and now he regrets it.' Also, the scene with the receptionist side-tracked me from the storyline, from the teen's emotions and the mood. I wasn't sure if she was talking to him or on the phone.

Aside from that, It was great and you certainly worked hard, so well done.

[Nikhar]

Good Job detective. :) And maybe, I further gave myself away by voting for my story...again! :D


Well, June 12 wasn't the date he hung out with his friend coz he couldn't have. Because on June 12th, the narrator was being operated for appendix. Well, my reason for the second part of the story was to show youth's negligence and thankfulness towards elder whereas the elder people, showered selfless love.

Maybe I wasn't able to explain what I wanted to via the second part. Ramlal Dinkar, Ravi's (narrator's) Dada, had a ticket reservation for Amarnath, one of the most holy and sacred places out here in India. But he canceled his trip just because the grandson was ill.

When the narrator said, he needed his medical file for an interview, that means some years have passed by since his grandpa's death. Out of the file, he observes the ticket and realizes how selfish he had been.

The receptionist was talking on the phone and coincidentally, her talks pricked his conscience.

And thanks for your compliments. :)

[Maryd.]

Actually I found this story invigorating... My only criticism is grammatical, or at least capital letters. Sometimes for Dada, you use caps and sometimes you don't. I don't know if you did that on purpose or if it was an error. Other than that, I loved the story...;)

[Virgil]

Nikhar, I got your PM. I will read this shortly, but I just haven't had an extended period of time that it will require. I'll try to do so tonight.

[Nikhar]

Thanks Maryd. Lol...I have never been good at grammar.:D

@ Virgil

Eagerly waiting for your comments. :)

[Pendragon]

A story full of pathos. I am not certain that a guilt trip makes for the most interesting story for competition. As a post on your blog it would generate more readers, as this is a profoundly personal story. Well-written overall, except for the few grammatical errors already mentioned, which you may have used as a way of emphasizing your point. If that was your intent, ignore the criticism.

Hope this helps, and best wishes

Pen

[glover7]

I liked the use of your personal slang in the dialogue. I felt that gave it a certain depth that a lot of non-professional writers can't achieve because they're too caught up in semi-Shakespearean language.

The problems I had with it were related mostly to the way in which you say things. Sometimes your sentences become a little stilted from your imagery. One of the things that stood out to me the most was the "upward concave" word for a smile. To some people, this might sound brilliant and semi-scientific, but in reality it's just a rather belabored way of saying, "He smiled."

Another thing I noticed was that the flow of the story is interrupted by some of the over-expository parts. For instance, this line could probably be completely removed:

I was immediately absorbed in a pensive mood.

If your character is feeling thoughtful, the reader will know. You don't have to spell it out for him/her.

Overall, I'd say it's a pretty darn good effort. And I'd like to stress that I really feel that your dialogue is more realistic than most creative writers'.

[MarkBastable]

You voted for your own story?

How would you have felt if you'd won by one vote?

[Nikhar]

@ Pendagron

Firstly, thanks for the comments. :)

Secondly, it isn't exactly a personal experience. It was meant to be a short story. Though, I'd take your advice and put it on the blog too. My first ever blog entry it would be. :D

Could you please point out a few grammatical errors? Because at some places , it is intentional but somewhere it may have been product of my carelessness.

@glover.

Firstly, thanks for the comments. :)
I have been accused formerly that my dialogues were mechanical. So, this time I did put in extra efforts to make it sound more realistic. :D

@Markbastle

Well, my story had been leading for the first 25 days of the month and then suddenly, the votes dried up. So, I decided to vote for myself. Call that selfish if you wish but doesn't everyone or well...almost everyone do that. :p

[MarkBastable]

Well, my story had been leading for the first 25 days of the month and then suddenly, the votes dried up. So, I decided to vote for myself. Call that selfish if you wish but doesn't everyone or well...almost everyone do that. :p

Er...no.

[Nikhar]

Er...no.

You can call me selfish then when my writings are concerned. :p

Well, anyways, its just that I think I have the right to vote for myself. Politicians do than, everyone in any sort of elections do that.

[MarkBastable]

Well, anyways, its just that I think I have the right to vote for myself. Politicians do than, everyone in any sort of elections do that.

I think the difference is that in an election with millions of voters, the President's vote is going to have no effect whatsoever on the outcome, so his vote is symbolic - whereas when you voted for yourself, you could not only effect the outcome, you were trying to.

What did you think of all the other entries by the way? I mean, apart from the fact that - as your vote implies - you didn't think any of them were as good as yours.

[Scheherazade]

Everybody has the right to cast their vote in the way they see fit.

The aim of this thread is not to analyse who voted for which story and why but to discuss the merits and shortcomings of this particular story.

If you have any comments on this story, please post them and please do not forget that if other authors would like to receive feedback, they will post their stories as well.

Otherwise, further judgmental comments addressed towards the author or other voters will be removed.

[MarkBastable]

Everybody has the right to cast their vote in the way they see fit.


Fair enough. It's not so much the recent practical application as the attitudinal position that's intriguing. In other words - how does any individual make an objective assessment of the subjective consideration of what he or she considers 'fit'.

Would it be permissible to begin another thread - perhaps in the Philosophical Literature section, alongside Why Are We Born? and What Unites All of Humanity? - in which we address this as an abstract ethical issue, in the hope of driving out moral absolutes that illuminate the tension between the instinct for personal advantage (what Nikhar characterises as 'selfishness') and the tacit but shared sense of mutually-advantageous fairness, a reaction to the non-adherence to which might be monosyllabically conveyed as 'Huh?"

[Scheherazade]

in which we address this as an abstract ethical issue, in the hope of driving out moral absolutes that illuminate the tension between the instinct for personal advantage (what Nikhar characterises as 'selfishness') and the tacit but shared sense of mutually-advantageous fairness, a reaction to the non-adherence to which might be monosyllabically conveyed as 'Huh?"Huh?




__________________

[MarkBastable]

Huh?

Oh, good. I'll take that as a huh.

[Nikhar]

What did you think of all the other entries by the way? I mean, apart from the fact that - as your vote implies - you didn't think any of them were as good as yours.


Oh man...you got me dead wrong there. I no way felt that my story was better than others. In fact, I do feel that I am no judge for those great works written by people who are undoubtedly, miles ahead in terms of experience.

I had respect for all those other works out there.

And about my casting vote for my own story..sometimes, I did think that I was ethically wrong and then wondered, 'How do I know if the others are not doing the same?' I know you may call that a cheap excuse. But anyways, to sum it all up, I voted for my story because I liked it and consideirng other factors


Anyways, maybe we could cut this. I'd be highly obliged if you cold take time to comment on the story instead.

Any criticisms at that front would be greatly welcomed.

[TheFifthElement]

Hi Nikhar, I've read your story a few times now. As far as the competition goes, this didn't receive my vote primarily because it was a tragedy, as were many of the entries, and because of the self-pitying tone which doesn't appeal to me. I don't know what it is about the Lit-net short competition which attracts such a myriad of tales of woe and abject misery, but it does and with that in mind you really need to work extra hard if you're going to distinguish your story from the others. I think if you look at the short story contest over a period of a year, something like 85% of the stories submitted are tragedies. Maybe something to bear in mind if you're submitting in the future.

Two areas in particular didn't work for me with your story. One is the language. In some areas the language seems quite convoluted and awkward, it doesn't flow lyrically and interrupts the rhythm of the story. It seems like you're trying a little too hard. I'll give you a few examples:


I rushed through the front doors and galloped straight towards the reception with my heart performing on a trampoline.

As an opener it's an awkward sentence. You're rushing, galloping, trampolining all at the same time; it's too much especially in a story with a strict word count. Try conveying the experience with more economy and save your words for when it really counts. 'I rushed straight to reception, my heart thumping like a trampoline'.



The conventional smell of medicines that one could easily relate to the hospitals instilled in me a mild wave of nausea.
'The distinctive hospital smell sickened me'.



There was a certain eagerness to look beyond but it was accompanied by an acute dread of the outcome.
'I wanted to go in, but I was afraid.'

If your story is a glowing ball of light, the language is an invisible mesh which holds it in place without getting in the way, without absorbing or deflecting any of the light. Sometimes simpler is best, and certainly using the active voice commands the reader's attention more effectively. I think you tend to slip into the passive voice, which is less self-assured and less concrete.

The other thing that stood out, for me, was that certain elements of the story didn't ring true. A couple of points in particular didn't seem to work, for example at this point in the story you have the Dada character receiving an injection:



The needle on his syringe was about three and a half inches long and a sparkle of light danced off its shaft. He pushed it into dada’s arms, all the way to the hilt. Dada gave a dry gasp of pain. My skin crawled at the thought of the needle piercing though his arms into his tissues as the dark red blood swirled up in the clear solution.

but moments before you say:


I was so lost that it took me quite some time to register the beep of the cardiac monitors and the hiss of the respirators. The profusion of intravenous bottles and lines connected to the impaled blood vessels by sharp needles unhinged me slightly.
it doesn't make sense why the doctor would inject direct to the arm if there's already intravenous access. It also doesn't really make sense how the character didn't notice the doctor either. Perhaps he might not notice him straight away, but the gap seems a little too long. I also wondered why Dada was in a private room and not on a ward. Certainly my experience is that it is extremely rare to get a private room in a hospital, even if you're dying, but perhaps that is a cultural difference. It is hard to know.

Also this:


A small piece of paper flew out of my file. I reached out for it and found it to be a railway reservation.
it's a bit of a strange place to keep an unused train ticket, in someone else's medical file. It seemed a little too convenient.

They're probably minor points, but as a reader they made me question the veracity of the story and anything that jars the reader out of the story is bad. It can be hard to see those kind of flaws in your own work (I certainly fail to see them in mine!) so if you can it's always worth getting someone else to try and pick holes in it; they might not always be right, but they will get you to look at the work with a more critical eye.

I thought your characterisation was well done, the characters seemed to behave in a manner which was true and consistent. Even where a character made a minor appearance, such as the receptionist, you really draw them to life. Clearly you are a keen observer of people. It's a good skill to have, something which you can build into your stories to make them really strong. I also thought your dialogue was really good, it moved the story along at a good pace and brought much more out of the characters than the descriptions did. I also felt the story was consistent in its tone and approach.

As always, with any critique, these are just my thoughts and you should feel free to use/ignore as you see fit. I'm by no means an expert.

Hope some of this helps :)

[Nikhar]

Firstly, thanks a ton for your reply. :)


Hi Nikhar, I've read your story a few times now. As far as the competition goes, this didn't receive my vote primarily because it was a tragedy, as were many of the entries, and because of the self-pitying tone which doesn't appeal to me. I don't know what it is about the Lit-net short competition which attracts such a myriad of tales of woe and abject misery, but it does and with that in mind you really need to work extra hard if you're going to distinguish your story from the others. I think if you look at the short story contest over a period of a year, something like 85% of the stories submitted are tragedies. Maybe something to bear in mind if you're submitting in the future.

Maybe I have the answer to this. Because these sort of stories gets votes! Well, my first entry into the competition was a short thriller sort of a story which received only 2 votes. Though I admit, when I look back at it, I find it to be very poorly written. My second story, 'One Happy Meal'...was much more successful and went into the tie. It was a sort of tragedy. That motivated me to write another tragedy for October which also went into the tie.


Two areas in particular didn't work for me with your story. One is the language. In some areas the language seems quite convoluted and awkward, it doesn't flow lyrically and interrupts the rhythm of the story. It seems like you're trying a little too hard. I'll give you a few examples:


As an opener it's an awkward sentence. You're rushing, galloping, trampolining all at the same time; it's too much especially in a story with a strict word count. Try conveying the experience with more economy and save your words for when it really counts. 'I rushed straight to reception, my heart thumping like a trampoline'.


'The distinctive hospital smell sickened me'.


'I wanted to go in, but I was afraid.'

Thats very true. I was trying to hard. I just didn't want my story to sound like an essay though I think I overdid the part.



If your story is a glowing ball of light, the language is an invisible mesh which holds it in place without getting in the way, without absorbing or deflecting any of the light. Sometimes simpler is best, and certainly using the active voice commands the reader's attention more effectively. I think you tend to slip into the passive voice, which is less self-assured and less concrete.

That's very well put. I'd definitely take care of that. :)



The other thing that stood out, for me, was that certain elements of the story didn't ring true. A couple of points in particular didn't seem to work, for example at this point in the story you have the Dada character receiving an injection:



but moments before you say:

it doesn't make sense why the doctor would inject direct to the arm if there's already intravenous access. It also doesn't really make sense how the character didn't notice the doctor either. Perhaps he might not notice him straight away, but the gap seems a little too long. I also wondered why Dada was in a private room and not on a ward. Certainly my experience is that it is extremely rare to get a private room in a hospital, even if you're dying, but perhaps that is a cultural difference. It is hard to know.

Well, I don't have much knowledge about doctor's practices and maybe that ignorance coerced a flaw.

About noticing a doctor, he was submerged in guilt and remorse. And all he could see was his grandpa.



Also this:

it's a bit of a strange place to keep an unused train ticket, in someone else's medical file. It seemed a little too convenient.

That's so true. Actually, I couldn't find any other place for the railway ticket.:goof:



They're probably minor points, but as a reader they made me question the veracity of the story and anything that jars the reader out of the story is bad. It can be hard to see those kind of flaws in your own work (I certainly fail to see them in mine!) so if you can it's always worth getting someone else to try and pick holes in it; they might not always be right, but they will get you to look at the work with a more critical eye.

I thought your characterisation was well done, the characters seemed to behave in a manner which was true and consistent. Even where a character made a minor appearance, such as the receptionist, you really draw them to life. Clearly you are a keen observer of people. It's a good skill to have, something which you can build into your stories to make them really strong. I also thought your dialogue was really good, it moved the story along at a good pace and brought much more out of the characters than the descriptions did. I also felt the story was consistent in its tone and approach.

As always, with any critique, these are just my thoughts and you should feel free to use/ignore as you see fit. I'm by no means an expert.

Hope some of this helps :)


That did indeed help a lot! :)

With each critique I receive, it helps me miles in writing my next work.

Just a question, were you able to decipher the objective of the second part of the story when you first read it.

After Chilly's comments, I just wondered if the meaning was clear enough.

[TheFifthElement]

Just a question, were you able to decipher the objective of the second part of the story when you first read it.

After Chilly's comments, I just wondered if the meaning was clear enough.

Hmm it's hard to comment because I've already read the explanations. I think the reader can work it out but it is, perhaps, a bit of an effort. So I'd say it could be made clearer, and that would probably benefit the story.


Actually, I couldn't find any other place for the railway ticket.:goof:

If you were planning to re-write perhaps you could have your Ravi character reflecting on how Dada being in the hospital reminds him of when he was in the hospital. That might help to draw the distinction between Ravi's selfish approach over his grandfather's sacrificial approach. When you interject with this memory:


‘Ow! God! Ow! It hurts!’ I leaped on one foot holding the other one in my hand trying to locate the pike.

‘Oh come on here now. You’re such a strong guy.’ My dada spoke. He took my foot in his hands and searched for the culprit.

‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’

‘You’re a strong guy. Superman, eh? My 10 year old little superman. Ah…here’s it. Close your eyes… its gonna be painless. Yes… here it is…here!’

I slowly opened one of my eyes and realized that the pain was gone. ‘Its gone! Thank you dada!’. And I jumped into his laps, wriggling and laughing.
perhaps replace with a memory of Dada being there at the hospital after Ravi wakes from his appendectomy. It would give you a very direct contrast between the two characters. Ravi probably would have known his Dada was going on an important trip, perhaps they could even talk about it? Then Ravi could find the ticket when he's looking through Dada's things after he's passed away. It would seem more natural that way.
Just a suggestion :)

[Granny5]

Nikhar, First, I wouldn't enter a story I had written if I didn't think it was good and if I didn't find another story in the competition that I thought was better, I would vote for my story. If I found one that I thought was better, I'd vote for it. We vote for the story we think is best.
Second, I enjoyed your moving story very much. I didn't quite understand some of it, but it was well written. From reading your story I got the impression that English is not your first language. Maybe that is the reason why I got lost at the end. But, don't be discouraged. Each time you write a story or poem, you improve. Keep writing and don't give up on the competition. You're time will come if you continue writing. The competition isn't really about winning, it's about learning and improving and enjoying a good story.

[MarkBastable]

....if I didn't find another story in the competition that I thought was better, I would vote for my story...

Yep, I think that's fair. I think if you read all the stories and truly, objectively feel that your own story is the best, then it's fine to vote for it.

[Nikhar]

Nikhar, First, I wouldn't enter a story I had written if I didn't think it was good and if I didn't find another story in the competition that I thought was better, I would vote for my story. If I found one that I thought was better, I'd vote for it. We vote for the story we think is best.
Second, I enjoyed your moving story very much. I didn't quite understand some of it, but it was well written. From reading your story I got the impression that English is not your first language. Maybe that is the reason why I got lost at the end. But, don't be discouraged. Each time you write a story or poem, you improve. Keep writing and don't give up on the competition. You're time will come if you continue writing. The competition isn't really about winning, it's about learning and improving and enjoying a good story.

Thanks a lot for your comments. :)

I'd be grateful if you could point out the facts that you couldn't understand.

[Virgil]

Nikhar, I thought your story was very good. Upon re-reading it grew in my estimation of it. I think I didn't vote for it because of the same self-pitying touches that Fifth mentioned, but upon re-reading I didn't think they were all that much self-pitying. There is guilt and the central character feels it, and he should. That's the central core of the story and one either accepts that or doesn't. I didn't quite accept it when i first was judging the stories, but I was convinced on re-read. You're narrative writing is pretty solid. You get the scene down and the movement progresses nicely and succinctly. I really like your use of similies. Obviously English is not your first language, and there are spots where that shows. Keep working on that and you'll get better. I will say I was let down on the conclusion. I do think a coda such as you have is warrented, but this was confusing to me, and really over emotional. For me, the shorter a work, the more emotion has to be muted. A short two thousand word story cannot really tolerate open outburst of emotion. The reader takes it as bathos.

But I think you have the capability to write stories. For someone your age, this is good work. Very nice.

[indydavid]

Any story that generates discussion is well-worth reading. Bravo, Nikhar!

[Nikhar]

Thanks a ton for your comments Virgil. :)


Obviously English is not your first language, and there are spots where that shows. Keep working on that and you'll get better.

I'd be grateful if you could point out the places where you felt that.

Thanks again.

Thanks indydavid.:)

[Virgil]

I'd be grateful if you could point out the places where you felt that.


Yikes, I went back and looked and couldn't find them. I apologize. I'm not sure why I got that feeling when I read it. English must be your first language, or you write like it is. :)

[Nikhar]

Yikes, I went back and looked and couldn't find them. I apologize. I'm not sure why I got that feeling when I read it. English must be your first language, or you write like it is. :)


Oh...lol..no probs.

Though English is not my first language.

Thanks again for the comments though. :)

Have a great day. :thumbs_up

[PabloQ]

Nikhar,

The first thing I want you to understand is that I don't look at the voting before I read the stories in this competition. I don't let the vote count or who voted for each story prejudize my opinion.

Secondly, I read all of the stories and try to determine which one had the best story. Based on that, I eliminated your story upon first reading it because I didn't like the story, primarily because it seemed like a wordy rendition of a simple story and the short section at the end seemed obscure and disconnected from the rest of the text. To be honest, I just didn't care.

That may seem harsh, but writing a good story within the economy of 2000 words is extemely difficult. I've tried it a couple times myself and failed. This story struck me more as an effort to fill a story with 2000 words than to tell a story well within that constraint. Fifth Element's points are spot on. There are points where you got carried away with words instead of telling the story. (examples, that first paragraph, the description of that injection, the race for the elevator).

I got confused a couple of times in the story. When the narrator returned from the "tour", based on his mother's reaction, I would have thought Dada was already dead. When the narrator sees his Dada in the hospital bed, I once again thought he was already dead. And like I said, the bit at the end didn't fit for me.

I can't imagine how much more difficult it is to write a story in English when it isn't your native language. Of all the advice, considering that challenge, try to keep it simple and tell a good story. Fight the urge to overuse modifiers. You run the risk of choosing the wrong one. (Most folks don't find elevators to be cavernous, for example). Trampolines don't thump naturally unless someone is bouncing on them. Bad choices distract from the story. So, my advice is to concentrate on telling a good story and less on trying to impress folks with your writing.

[Nikhar]

Nikhar,

The first thing I want you to understand is that I don't look at the voting before I read the stories in this competition. I don't let the vote count or who voted for each story prejudize my opinion.

Secondly, I read all of the stories and try to determine which one had the best story. Based on that, I eliminated your story upon first reading it because I didn't like the story, primarily because it seemed like a wordy rendition of a simple story and the short section at the end seemed obscure and disconnected from the rest of the text. To be honest, I just didn't care.

That may seem harsh, but writing a good story within the economy of 2000 words is extemely difficult. I've tried it a couple times myself and failed. This story struck me more as an effort to fill a story with 2000 words than to tell a story well within that constraint. Fifth Element's points are spot on. There are points where you got carried away with words instead of telling the story. (examples, that first paragraph, the description of that injection, the race for the elevator).

I got confused a couple of times in the story. When the narrator returned from the "tour", based on his mother's reaction, I would have thought Dada was already dead. When the narrator sees his Dada in the hospital bed, I once again thought he was already dead. And like I said, the bit at the end didn't fit for me.

I can't imagine how much more difficult it is to write a story in English when it isn't your native language. Of all the advice, considering that challenge, try to keep it simple and tell a good story. Fight the urge to overuse modifiers. You run the risk of choosing the wrong one. (Most folks don't find elevators to be cavernous, for example). Trampolines don't thump naturally unless someone is bouncing on them. Bad choices distract from the story. So, my advice is to concentrate on telling a good story and less on trying to impress folks with your writing.

Hi...firstly, thanks a lot for your comments. :)

One of the complaints against my writing has been that it hasnt always been very clear and has been confusing. I certainly need to work on that.

Thanks again.

[Nikhar]

Anyone else?

Any criticisms is greatly welcomed and it helps me leaps for my next story.

[Steven Hunley]

Most of the previous comments were good. The only thing I object to is a technical difficulty. When he gets the shot and you describe the needle, it a bit off. Three and one half inch needles are not used to hit veins. If blood flowed into the needle, it was a vien shot. Such shots (as in morphine) are intramuscular and show no blood. The only way blood flows into a syringe is if it's drawn there on purpose. (like when junkies "register") The idea of the story is good, just the execution needs a bit of revision.

[Nikhar]

Thanks a ton steven for your comments. :)

One of my limitations being a student currently is lack of technical knowledge and I regularly err on that front. I really need to work on it. :)

[Monamy]

Dear Nik,

Sorry for not reading your message until just recently, I keep saying I'm gunna stick to regularly check the forums out but fail epicly in keeping that promise. Life's getting more and more busy in my end, but you can say I'm getting by fine enough =3 (God, I sound like an old man lol)

But enough about the boring stuff xD

I've read quickly through the first lines and your style never fails to hook me up, student or not, your pen has a unique feeling to the way it moves. Look forward for my comment in the near future... not sure when I'll finish reading it though it's short enough for a 30min read, but I'm currently at work and need to attend to some matters =P

Keep writing, Nikhar, and keep developing your writing skills. I like what Mr. Steven Hunley said about the needle, and yes; putting some simple-yet-not-commonly-known facts is a trick I use a lot in my work lately =D Just make sure you know enough of what you'll write, and you can't go wrong.

(the comment I promised)

You, sir, are seriously something else.

You succeeded in showing 4 different stages of character development in less than 2000 words, and like most of those who commented already, 2k words is already almost too short for a good story. You showed the reader how the narrator shifted from innocent happiness to a sudden shock, to guilt and agony, then finally to a form of a spiritual apology or an unspoken promise. Not really sure if you really meant or planned this all along, but it was appealing the way you put it.

However, I didn't find the last moments of dada's departure very... how do I put it... realistic?

Don't get me wrong, sir. I mean sure, I loved how he wanted the narrator to have fun at first, and how the first thing that came out of his mouth on the bed when he saw his grandchild was about the tour and all that--it's so grandfather-like to be concerned with his grand children's happiness. But then again, I didn't like how he parted without reassuring words... I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I thought that maybe you should have worked a little bit on that part... lol but then again, you were limited to only 2000 words after all, so maybe achieving this would have been at the price of something else.

I notice you like to use Metaphor a lot, I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but sometimes you need to describe what the narrator/speaker/protagonist really feels, or how he/she sees things, hears things, smells things... Don't misunderstand me, I like metaphors very much, and - English being a secondary language to me - I find them rather interesting. But Emotions play a great part in ourselves, and our senses vary a lot based on what we feel. Try a nice and friendly challenge to write a short story without using metaphor, and see how you can relate to your characters' feelings using what they experience around them instead of metaphor.

My only real complaint about this piece, Nikhar, cannot really be called 'complaint' to begin with. As they already said, the idea of the story is great, it's just the limitation that chained you this time, there wasn't enough details to fill in the gaps, that's why you relied on metaphor to cut the story short somewhat. As I said earlier, using facts sometimes shows the writer's muscles, but be aware of what you write or else... lol... you'll look thin, if you can catch my meaning =3

Personal Rating: 7/10

+Pros:
Hooking style
Good variety in words
Awesome metaphors (personally, I loved the goat one)
Simple-facts trick to juice the story up
Almost real character development

-Cons:
The 2000 words limitation rule killed any possible development, sadly nothing can be done here
Metaphor trigger-happy, sometimes simple description of emotions or actions speak stronger

[Nikhar]

Thanks a lot Monamy...very generous of you indeed to take out the time during your busy work schedule. :)



You succeeded in showing 4 different stages of character development in less than 2000 words, and like most of those who commented already, 2k words is already almost too short for a good story. You showed the reader how the narrator shifted from innocent happiness to a sudden shock, to guilt and agony, then finally to a form of a spiritual apology or an unspoken promise. Not really sure if you really meant or planned this all along, but it was appealing the way you put it.

I knew the narrator had to undergo those changes. But the way you describe it...it makes my writing seem much better than it is. lol :D

I am, indeed, drawn towards metaphors a lot. Maybe, next time, I would concentrate on other things more. :)

Thanks for such a detailed analysis. ;)

[Nikhar]

You voted for your own story?

How would you have felt if you'd won by one vote?


Sorry to bring this topic up once again. But I now realize what you had meant. I don't think I would ever vote for my story again without reading all others and deciding for the best. At that time, winning was very important for me and so was the money. Now, I'm past that.

Indeed, the time makes you much more mature. :)
And thanks, for criticizing me at the correct time. ;)