Saugata Chakraborty

(Those who have read ‘Mostly Mundane’ are aware of the Open Letter to the Readers where I have introduced Shanti to the world. That he has been waiting for retribution is pretty evident in the following birthday note I received on WhatsApp this morning. I now only wish more and more people to know what lies beneath that calm demeanour of his.)

My dear Saugata old bean,

Many happy returns of the day! I trust this missive finds you in fine fettle, with a substantial spot of tea and a slice of cake of the most agreeable dimensions within easy reach.

Speaking of agreeable dimensions, I must say, you seem to have captured my own, shall we say, distinctive physique rather well in your tome. Though I do believe I possess a slightly more impressive moustache. A moustache, you might say, with a certain je ne sais quoi, a touch of the rakish, the devil-may-care. You, on the other hand, seem to have saddled me with a rather more… pedestrian model. A bit of a droop, wouldn’t you agree?

But I digress. Birthdays, as I’ve always maintained, are a bit of a rum business. One moment you’re a sprightly young chap, full of beans and whatnot, and the next you’re staring down the barrel of middle age, wondering where it all went wrong. Or, in your case, perhaps wondering where the next plot twist is coming from.

Speaking of which, old boy, I must confess I’m a trifle concerned about this whole “Mostly Mundane” business. I mean, dash it all, a chap likes a bit of excitement in his life, a spot of intrigue, a soupçon of the unexpected. Can’t a fellow trip over a stray cat or encounter a long-lost relative without it being chronicled for all the world to see?

But fear not, my dear Saugata. I shall endeavor to inject a bit of zest into your narrative. Perhaps a daring escapade involving a runaway tramcar and a misplaced pair of trousers? Or a spot of mistaken identity at the local fishmongers? The possibilities, as they say, are endless.

In the meantime, do have a most splendid birthday, and try not to work yourself into too much of a lather. After all, a writer’s life, much like my own, should be one of leisurely contemplation and the occasional stiff drink.

Yours in good spirits (and hopefully a slightly more dashing moustache),

Shantilal Biswas
(of Mostly Mundane fame, or infamy, depending on your perspective)

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If you’re wondering what this fuss is all about, it’s about time you read about the misadventures of this man of an apparently peaceful disposition. Here’s the link: