As everybody has probably guessed by the title, Tall Tales have been in my mind for quite some time now. To be more precise, ever since Kala Ghouda Arts festival announced this flash fiction contest with the theme Tall Story, I’ve been doing nothing but thinking about coming up with more tall stories … the taller, the better! And then I casually log on to Sulekha and I find that there are many others in the same boat. First came B S Keshav with his tall tale about an aging grandfather who’s talking about tigers mating! Before I could come out of that shock, we had Supriya writing about another aged gentleman talking about the imaginary stuff that his son and daughter-in-law purchased. But this morning was the heights when Meera came up with this tall tale about a war between blogvas and bookvas? I could talk about my own humble effort, but I’m not the type who brags.

 

      So, this morning, I came to an important decision … no more tall tales for me! From this point on, I’ll write only normal, sensible and believable stories. But, what is this weird feeling going on in my mind? There seems to be some sort of tug-of war going on in there. While I was pulling my mind in one direction, somebody else was pulling it in a totally different direction.

 

    “Pssst …who are you kidding dear?” I could swear I heard some weird voice. I looked around and gently chided myself for my day-dreams.

 

    “Hey you, I’m talking to you. Stop ignoring me!” I heard the voice again. This was no dream, “Ok, who are you and what do you want?”

 

    “Are you kidding me? How is it possible that even though you’ve been thinking about me for the past couple of days and yet have no memory as to who am I?”

 

     I had to make sure that I wasn’t going crazy, “You mean I’m talking to tall tales?”

 

    “Who else, sweetheart?” That was when I got a confirmation that I was indeed going crazy!

 

      Since I was already going crazy, I decided to go with the flow, “What exactly do you want from me?”

 

     He …. errr…she….hmmm…it laughed, “The question is what do you want to know from me?”

 

     I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask and to whom, “How and when were you born?”

 

    It cleared its throat ( do they have a throat?), “ Do you remember the time when you were eight years old and you had to come up with an excuse for being late to school?”

 

     Oh yeah, that was the day I came up with an elaborate lie … I was late because on the way a little bird fell from a tree and I had to take it to the doctor’s office and wait till it got better! Hey … I was eight and it was my first time!

 

     I hurriedly moved on to my next question, “What is the purpose of your life? I mean, why are you born?”

 

    The voice became silent for a minute and then replied, “I guess it is to provide some entertainment as well as to save people’s skin. Can you imagine if you’d told your teacher that you were late because your mom got up late?”

 

     I promptly cut the conversation, “But, I was punished in spite of my tall tale! At least if I’d told the truth, my teacher would’ve been proud of me.”

 

     “Yeah, but you wouldn’t be writing about that in a story, would you? Sometimes, you need to have a little entertainment, don’t you? And thinking of a tall tale made you use your brain, didn’t it?”

 

     I was zapped! I’d never thought of it like that. Life sure would’ve been boring if everybody spoke the truth all the time!

 

    I decided to move on to my next question, “How do you decide when is the right time for you to make an entry? I don’t lie all the time, but sometimes a tale just pops out so naturally. How do you do that?”

 

   “You mean like the time when you were spinning a story about your imaginary boyfriend to all your friends in that hostel?” Was that a teasing note that I found in the voice?

 

    I blushed, “Yeah, something like that. And for god’s sakes, stop bringing up those embarrassing incidents, would you? Can you imagine what the readers might think about me?”

 

    “Oh, who cares about the readers?” The voice tried to calm me down. “Don’t you think your readers have had their share of tall tales? As to your question, it is not really up to me to make that decision. You and your readers decide when you are comfortable enough to spin your story.”

 

     I was dying to know something else, “Every living thing that is born has to die someday! Do tall tales have to die too? Or do you guys get to live forever?”

 

    “That’s where we hold an ace over living things! We get to live as long as there are people living. We get to live long after the people who created us die. You see, tall tales live in the memory of those who created them as well as in the memory of those who heard them. If a tale is really tall, then it gets around from one person to another and sometimes gets to live forever!”

 

   Readers, it is time for a confession … I’ve never been more of jealous of anybody else; living or non-living! But, I had to ask one most important question, “Why are you haunting me? I’ve not been able to do anything else for the past couple of days! I’m always trying to come up with one tall tale after another. Why am I so fascinated with you?”

 

     “The tale laughed, “Simple, you needed me and so I’m here! I guess your mind was sick of those regular-sounding, normal people, boring stories. I think you needed a break from your own style. So, when this art festival challenge came up, your mind went on over-drive and now you’re obsessing with un-realistic and un-believable stories! You’ll get over me when the time is right. But, until then, you don’t really have any option other than to grin and bear it!”

 

      On that ominous note, I conclude my tall interview with a Tall Story. I hope you guys are having a better day than I am!