Melody's Hub

Writer’s note:   Whatever happens in this story is based on 100% true events. A few embellishments, perhaps, but really, it’s literary license. I am doing this for entertainment. Enjoy! I attended offline classes on Wednesday, 16th February, 2022. And the events of one particular period of this day has been chronicled by me in this post.  Let me take you back to the fifth period, Art. Carol Ma’am was teaching the class. Since it was mostly free, I took my time to finish a sketch of Varangi Jha. Just then, Aadita, who had been sent to the Art Room to get the T-Shirts my classmates had block-printed in fifth grade, returned with a big bag and took out shirts. The girls and I immediately crowded around to see them. We handed them out to the students and left the rest in a shelf. Then, on a bid, my classmate, who calls himself Ash, asked Carol Ma’am, “Ma’am, can I take a walk around the school?”  Ash says things like this, and the whole class is used to it. Carol Ma’am knew t...

Miko walked down the hall of cages, almost all of them empty. Which case did Officer Dennys said it was? Oh, the sixth cage on the right. Miko found it soon.  She peered inside the bars. A boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen, was sitting on a small stool.  Miko pressed her face against the cage, hoping it wasn’t a child who was in there. But it was. It  was  a child. “You’re the convict?  You’re  the one who  kidnapped  Evan Fife?” Miko asked in disbelief.  The boy looked up. His eyes were sunken, blackened. Miko gulped. What had happened to him? “No,” he whispered, raspy. Then, like a bullet, he shot out and grabbed Miko’s hand, but she pulled it out quickly. “What are you doing?” Miko tried to keep her voice level. “ Who told you? ” he asked fiercely. “Officer Dennys.” The boy’s eyebrows mashed together in anger. “ Dennys!  Of all the people? Dennys’ a mole, Myelin. A big mole. He never wants to help out. He’s just doing it for the glory.”...

Varangi Didi and the other gurus are going to attend a shoot for one of the Indian Idol episodes, and Didi wants to specifically support one of the contestants, Nihal Tauro.   “You all, I have told your parents to make sure you stay out of trouble. This might be the only practice you’ll miss, but you better rehearse, for you’ll need it,” she warns us. The other gurus nod, then they leave.  All of us, twelve Super Dancers, are watching them climb into two SUVs and drive to the studio.  “Are we following their orders?” Parita asks, breaking the silence. “Nuh-uh, nuh-uh, nuh-uh.” Sobhit modifies his usual Shah Rukh Khan dialogue, and makes us laugh. Heading back inside the hotel, Arshika says, “You know, we should  all  have a sleepover.” Prithvi’s eyes widen. “Sleepover? You’re a dreamer, Arshika. A dreamer.” “It isn’t a bad idea,” Florisha says. “Then let’s do it!” I pump my fist in the air. Eeshvi facepalms. “Sankalp, you idiot. We can’t.” “What do you mean?” I ...

Aman has to go back to the hotel where he’s staying, but he promises to watch our performances later. I tell him congrats, and Prithvi smiles that easygoing smile of his, except it’s bigger and brighter. After he leaves, Prithvi and I watch the next set of contestants come. From a girl named Arshika whose dadi is her BFF to a boy named Sobhit who does the craziest things on the dance floor (including pulling his pants down to expose, thankfully, a swimsuit and not his underwear), the dancers show their best, and most get their medals. Some don’t, and I feel bad for them.  Then, it’s my turn. I may be lying if I say I’m not quaking with nervousness. Because I actually  am. I run onto the stage, doing a cool pose and everything, but that’s for the camera. Now, I do not know how I am going to face these judges. I remember them. Shipra Ma’am nods and looks at me. “I have seen you before, but I do not know when and where.”  Anshuman Dada looks at her. “We have?” Even Geetika ...

“My, what a way we’ve gone,” says Papa as he stares at the waiting room, decorated in blue and adorned with glitter, balloons, frilly paper, and a hundred other things. Looking at this room is like looking into a party hall, all set for someone’s birthday. There are seating areas, if seating areas look like round tables made of leather.  Papa and I sit around for a while, but strangely, there is nothing to talk about. He’s asking if I remember all of my steps, and I say yes, I remember them all. After a brief silence, he suggests making friends. I nod, then take a look around. There are a few kids my age, and my eye catches a boy wearing a hat, and he’s practising foot movements. I go over to him. “Hey,” I say. “Hi,” he replies. “I’m Aman. What’s your name?” He wanted to break his tension too, I realise, and looks happy seeing someone around. “Sankalp.” I gesture with my head to his legs. “Practising?” “Just doing revision.” He tries a few more steps, then sighs contentedly, like h...

It’s a few days after Aman’s elimination. Prithvi, Sobhit and I are heading down for lunch after practice. But something hits me inside, and I don’t want it to show in front of them, so I excuse myself and head back to the dance room. I open the door, close it again, lock it, and collapse into a ball.   The tears come quick. Tears for Aman. Tears for the rest of the dancers who got eliminated, and more tears for the ones who are in danger of getting eliminated. No tears for me, whether I’d get eliminated or not. It’s just for everyone else.  My sobs are soft, so that no one listens. It’s probably muffled from outside. I bury my face in my knees and cry and cry and cry.  It’s just because Aman is out. I wonder whether it would’ve been better if he was eliminated, but he could stay in Mumbai until the show ends. However, he packed up his bags and went back to Delhi. Him not being here is like he’s dead. That’s how hard-hit I am. That’s how hard-hit maybe Prithvi is, too. T...

My first practice takes place today. I have to rehearse for hours on end, until we go for break. Fortunately, Varangi Didi knows it is harder than what I’m used to at home, so she eases it. The first hour is spent in knowing each other. Varangi Didi asks me about my life in Jalandhar, and I, in turn, ask her about what she’s doing. Then we ask each other about our families. I actually have Papa’s phone with me so that I can call his laptop if I need to, but this time, I pull it out of my pocket to show Varangi Didi a family photo. It’s the one which we clicked on Diwali last year. Didi coos at Sayra’s face. “What a cute little sister you have, Sankalp!” she says. I nod. “She’s gone on Mama mostly, but she’s got Papa’s features too.” “And you have gone on your father, but you’ve got your mother’s features as well.” She makes the analogy quick. I grin.  “Do you miss her?” she asks me, smiling sadly.  I swallow a lump in my throat to prevent tears. “Her and Mama.” She ruffles my ...

It’s night. I’m not sure if everyone’s asleep yet, but I’m not. I knock on Varangi Didi’s door. “Come in,” she says. I open the door—I’m surprised to find it unlocked—and walk in. Didi’s sitting on the bed, and she’s awake too. “ Neend nahin aa rahin, ” I say. “Well, you can come and sit here.” She touches the spot next to her. I climb onto the bed and sit there. “I’m unable to sleep either,” she says. I stare at her hand for a while, thinking it’s Mama’s, or Sayra’s, or my cousin sister Simran’s. For me, Simran is someone between Mama and Sayra. She’s in her teens. “If Mama were here, she’d let me cuddle Sayra and let me ask her questions until I became drowsy and sleepy.” I look up at Didi. She smiles thinly. “Well, you know someone else who can do that.” “Can I be cuddled and can I ask questions?” I ask meekly. She puts an arm around me and pulls me close. “Sure.” I snuggle into her. It feels so warm and fuzzy. I lean my head against her shoulder. It’s like Mama all over again, and ...

"Aww, Sankalp, why are you so sad?" Varangi Ma'am asks. “We didn’t do well,” I vehemently declare.  “Come on, at least it was better than last time.” She gave me an encouraging smile. I still pout. She sighs. “Look, as performers, we have to learn from the bad acts and stage better ones. Isn’t this what you did when you were sent home for revision last time?” I stay silent. Don’t want to talk about it. “Well, okay, I’ll try something else. I used to have a student who gave me better pep talks than I did...” She shakes her head. “Anyways, I have a surprise for you!” “What is it?” I ask. I may be too old to be excited about such things, but I’ll take anything to cover up the bad thoughts. “Hold on, I have to call someone up.” She pulls out her phone and hits a contact. The ringer’s working, so she puts it to her ear. “Hello? Hi! You there? Where are you right now?” Pause. “Oh, okay, pretty close by.” She giggled. I never heard her do so. Must be something big.  There was an...

When Mama steps into the light, I do not think twice about proper shoot etiquette. I drop my mic and run across the stage, and the next minute, my face is buried in her arms. She hugs me tightly, while I cry and cry and cry.  Maybe stupid COVID kept her away from me, while she was stuck in Jalandhar and Papa and I were in Mumbai, but I have something to say: not even a pandemic can break love. And the love I have for Mama and Papa and Sayra and everyone else—it has never broken apart and it never will. The reunions happening on the set this day is proof.  Mama holds me the way she does if I get hurt or I feel sad. I hug her the way I did when I saw her in the hospital holding Sayra.  “Mama,” I whisper.  “I’s okay,  beta , I’m here,” she says, smoothing my hair. Papa gets up from the parents’ seat and goes to Mama. He hugs her as well, and I realise that he has missed her more than I have.  Suddenly, Sanu Sir pulls out his mic and starts singing. I do not kn...

“So,” Rithvik Sir starts, after Arshika’s scary performance was over, along with the judges’ comments. “Arshika did not only spook us here, but fellows Super Dancers as well. Let’s take a look.” We turn to the TV screens mounted above the seats. I’m having a feeling I know what this is about. Oh, and I know this is a nightmare. The screen turns on, and a shot of Arshika sitting with her friends in a dark room. There are dark circles underneath her eyes, and I know it is makeup.  “Look, there has been lots of  halla  after the ASP thing started,” she tells her friends. “Aman, Sankalp and Prithvi.” She straightens her back. “Girls, I think it is time we show them who’s boss.” “And how are we going to do that?” Anshita asks. She rubs her hands menacingly. And I know that means that she is going to give the most devious, most horrifying, most hilarious idea ever.  “Watch me, ladies.”  The screen shifts to inside the elevator. Aman gulps in the seat beside me. He kno...

It is fifteen minutes before the final auditions commence. Prithvi, Aman and I have been talking all of this time, about stuff. Dance. Our families. School. Normal stuff. But what we do—to other people it doesn’t seem normal. I guess. I just think that’s how the world works: you don’t know what’s next.  We are thinking of taking a peek at the choreographers. Aman swears on his best dancing shoes that he knows how we can do it. We wait for one of the adults to leave the door unattended, then spring upon our chance and dash to the stage door. Amidst the bright lights, I can see the thirteen Super Gurus. It was sad that Varangi Ma’am wasn’t there. I don't mind about being placed with another guru, but it still hurts. I say this to Aman and Prithvi. But they look at me incredulously. "What? Is it bad enough to wish?" I ask. "No. But the fact that you didn't even check properly is!" Aman says, gesturing to the right of the choreographers' seats.  I have to tu...

"We need everyone to be in on this," Sharav said. I looked at the class. No one seemed to have the class spirit I was looking for. I thought back to my FIS classmates, during the lockdown and online classes. I wasn't with them, but I kept in touch with them through Zoom chat. I remembered that time when the whole class was enraged with the math teacher, who never explained doubts and always went too fast while teaching. She also lectured  the kids when they asked doubts, telling them that interrupting the teacher was wrong, when it was actually her who was wrong. My friends stayed silent during her class, but ranted and raved about the situation ing the class group. Then, Om and Athira, who were part of that class, actually had their parents write the complaint. The complaint was taken, and the teacher never did anything wrong to my friends since then! And the best part? When the whole class heard about the news, the celebrated like kings, and virtually slapped each other...

Aman, Prithvi and I, being selected for the show in the Top 13, become best friends immediately. We do everything together. We study together. We play carrom and Ludo together. We have food together. We even take baths together. Yeah, I know, the last one will make you all laugh, but trust me, I never had any strong bond like this. It makes me feel like I belong, instead of how I felt back in Jalandhar, where my friends saw me as an all-work-and-no-play fellow. Here, with Aman and Prithvi, I know that people work hard to keep their place in the show—and even strive for the trophy.  We have to also decide on a group name, as Aman puts it.  “Every awesome group has an awesome group name to go with it,” he says during dinner. We are serving ourselves food from the buffet line. I scoop some  daal  into a bowl, and pick two  chapattis , all prepared by the hotel. The food makes me miss Mama’s food even more.  When we go to our table and sit down, Aman prompts, “...

I step out onto the final audition stage. No crowds yet, just the three judges, who are very easily recognisable.  "Sankalp Chanana, is it?" the middle judge asks me. "Yes, Ma'am," I reply. "We look forward to seeing your performance," says the judge on her right. He smiles kindly at me. The judge at the left of the table calls for music. I start my routine, just like I had practiced. The right moves, at the right beat. I feel like my body was pulsing with the music, just like I always do, which is the specialty about my style. But after I finish, the judges don't feel the same. The middle judge said, "I'm sorry, Sankalp, but we have to send you home for revision." Mama and Papa get me, and we walk out. In my head, the word 'no' is ringing like a bell. What did I do wrong? That's the nightmare that wakes me up. And that's what jolts me up from bed, sweating and breathing hard, as if I am still there. But so does my wat...

As Miko walked ahead through the thickets of trees, she came across an old cottage. It was a little run-down and scary, but she had been investigating homicides with her father ever since she was five. This cottage seemed like nothing compared to what she had seen in New York City. She was glad that there were no pools of blood. Josh whined. "It's okay, buddy," Miko said, bending down to scratch him behind the ears. But she knew that dogs sensed strange things that humans can't. Something here was troubling her otherwise brave little German shepherd.  She stepped inside. Could she find Evan Fife in here? But before she could even walk ahead, a dark hood was thrown over her head and her shoulders were grabbed by someone. She didn't scream, but she called for Josh. He barked and tried to ram into her kidnapper (or so), but the person shooed him away. Miko took the distraction to throw the hood aside. A boy, not much older than she was, stood at the door. "Who...

 Hi everyone! You have probably heard about this T.V. show called 'Ghostwriter'. Frankly, it's one of my favourite shows, maybe because it's the theme and plot that interests me the most. 'Ghostwriter' actually goes waaaay back--as in back to the 1980's! It follows a group of kids who find a ghost who writes to them, and frees characters from books. They put the characters back in each episode and try to solve the mystery behind the ghost's unfinished business. What is it? I won't tell! In September 2019, when Apple TV+ released, 'Ghostwriter' came out as a reboot, which premiered on November 1, 2019. So far, there are 2 seasons in the reboot, and that's the one I'm watching. It's also currently nominated for Eight Daytime Emmy Awards.  Do remember that from this post onwards, I'll be starting a new Mystery House game (which is why it's labeled 'Mystery House'). In this, you'll use my stories, and this TV show,...