How to steal a story?

Plagiarism The unauthorized use or close imitation of the language and thoughts of another author and the representation of them as one's own original work.

I became a plagiarist yesterday. Its not something to be proud of, but I have to appreciate myself for carrying out such an arduous task elegantly. The stealing part is actually exciting and fun. But erasing every trace of your crime is necessary. The post-plagiarist works are more important. It involves, 1) Changing the title of the story. 2) Changing the names of the main characters and locations. 3) (Of course) write your name at the bottom of the story. This story is not intended to teach you all these. Its about how I managed to steal Madhans work yesterday. Who is Madhan? My college mate. Why did I steal his story? He gets the best short story award every year; every damn year. But this time, Im not going to let him get that. Envy? No. Hatred? No. Then what? Its too personal, but Ill share it with you anyways. I was in love with Sandhya, my class mate. We have had some irregularities in our relationship, but I was sure that it was not falling apart. Then he arrives, the great writer, Madhan Kumar. He sweeps Sandhya off her feet by his love stories. She ditches me. Madhan is popular in our circle because of his writing. Nothing creative in his works. Every story of his, has a guy or a girl whose heart is broken. He is seeking sympathy from girls, if you ask me and it has worked out for him pretty well. I got drunk. Every post break-up ritual happened in my life. The truth that she left me did not hurt; my inability to do anything in life did. So I wanted to show her that Im not a loser. I tried writing stories. My dustbin filled up pretty quickly. Frustration piled up. The competition in my college was on 29 January. Three days more. I was desperate to do something. Anything. Im pretty sure that you are ready to quit reading this story further. Im not like those goody goody character you read in Mills and Boons. Im real. Im candid. The first line of this story proves that. I accept the things I have done. I dont know how you will react if you see the

girl you love, kissing somebody else just because you dont have any talents. But this is how I react. Im not brave enough to bash him. Now, lets get into the actual plot. The entries for the competition should contain stories in the form of .pdf files written in a CD. The CDs should be submitted on or before 28 January. The management will print hard copies and file each story separately with the registered name of the applicant. On 29 January, the students will be assembled in the auditorium. Awards for achievement in academics and sports will be given. Simultaneously, a jury will go through all the stories and announce the winner right away. Everyone was very certain that Madhan will grab the prize, as ever. He submitted the CD on my departments staff room book rack on 27 January, two days before the actual contest. This is where I come in. I was standing in front of my department for absenting myself for two days (Big deal!). I realized later that it was a blessing in disguise when I saw Madhan walking out with a professor. Lets hear their conversation. Another story ? I heard the literary contest is round the corner Yes, sir. fingers crossed, Madhan smiled arrogantly. I hate this guy, I tell you. You will win this one. There is nobody to write like you You can shove your compliments up your They departed to their respective classes. Now or never, my heart showed its presence by increasing its rate of beats. I entered the staff room. There was only one teacher around. He was asleep in his chair. Damn, they screw us big time if we do the same in class hours. I crawled like a snake and reached the book rack. There it is, the CD. MADHAN KUMAR, 3rd year IT. I took out his CD and replaced it with an empty disc I had bought for the occasion and exited, without any trace. It was exhilarating. Blissful. I checked the story first thing, when I reached home. It was named Too good to be true. Another regular story of a girl whose heart gets broken. Teenage trash. It was written deliberately in a girls point of view so that the bastard can grab the attention of more girls. Its not going to work out for him anymore. First thing, I converted the .pdf to .doc format. Then I altered the names of the chief characters. Chitra to Ramya. Rajesh to Anand. Shilpa to Sandhya (The last transformation was deliberate. The bitch deserves it) The new title of the story was The sunshine. Not bad.

I included my name at the bottom. Done. The next day (January 28), I added my CD in the same rack. Madhans empty disc was still there. I smiled to myself. Piece of cake. Tomorrow is going to be a memorable day. The jury will finally announce and the prize goes to I cant wait to see the look on her face. She should realize Im not a loser after all. I visualised myself walking up the stage and receiving the honour from one of those bald headed people who call themselves geniuses. There was a heavy round of applause from the students. I waved my hand as a token of gratitude. Madhan Kumar was sitting in the front row. I could boil an egg on his face. Taste bitterness for the first time in your life, Madhan. You deserve that. I woke up from my fantasy. The professor was calling my name in the class. I stood up. You are wanted by the Mr. Karunagaran. Go to the staff room ASAP, he said sternly, glaring at me suspiciously. Oh, no. Karunagaran has guessed that I have copied Madhans work. He is in charge for collecting all the entries for the competition. Damn, I almost had it. I mentally prepared myself for every cross question possible. I should not raise any kind of mistrust. I entered the staff room on the ground floor. As expected, Madhan and Karunagaran were sitting with an expression which was neither pleasant nor welcoming. Madhan was holding my empty CD with absolute hatred and indignation. Karungaran was holding the papers which had the title The sunshine. Would you mind explaining this?, he pointed at the sheets in his hand. I tried to project an innocent face. They absolutely have no proof against me. Let me play it by the ear. Its my short story, sir. I wrote it last week Madhan is claiming that the story is actually his piece of work. Moreover, the CD which he had submitted has been replaced by a blank disc. Too much of a coincidence for one day, dont you think? The title of the story and the names of the characters have been changed. The remaining things are the same. Im absolutely sure that this is my story, sir, Madhan argued. He turned and gave me a look of pure loathing. He should have somehow guessed that Im avenging him for that girl (I dont like spelling out her name). First things first, I should get out of this, without a scratch. Sir, this is my story. I have my own facts to prove that. Im sorry for the unfortunate things that happened to Madhans work, but Im not responsible for it. I have worked on this story

for a very long time. Its highly unfair that you are accusing me for plagiarism. I know the pain of conceiving a story. So I will never try breaching the art of writing, I finished my spur of the moment speech. Karunagaran was half convinced. He was lost in thoughts. I sensed his hesitation and decided to wriggle myself away. Sir, if you will excuse me, I have classes to attend He nodded without looking up. Madhan was fuming. But sir, this is unfair. You cant do this..Thats my story.., he started. Before leaving the staff room, I paused at the cooler to drink some water. Actually I wanted to hear whats going to happen to Madhan. Im sorry Madhan. Im afraid you have to drop this issue right away I cant believe this, sir Better luck next time I exited the staff room with downright glee on my face. Gotcha. 36 hours later, I was seated in the auditorium with all other students. The ceremony begin. After boring speeches filled the entire hall with ample yawns and groans for an hour, the prize distribution began. Silence enveloped the entire gathering. Yes, I have been waiting for this so long. Its time for literary awards now. First, short stories category. I request the jury now to announce the winner I started biting my nails. The jury stood up and a mike was handed over to him. He cleared his throat. I see a lot of talent in writing this year. It was really difficult for me to select a single story. But one particular story stood out of all. It has no depth, but it was refreshing and creative as well. I was amazed by the narration My heart started palpitating. Come oncome on The best short story award goes to Madhan Kumar There was huge round of applause. I was stunned. I could not believe what I was hearing. How in the world is this possible? He did not even write a story for gods sake.

Madhan kumar rose and almost ran towards the stage. The jury continued. There are three specialities in this story. One, it was written within four hours today morning. Two, the name of the person who is narrating the entire story is not revealed till the end. It holds special reason. Three, the unique name of the story. I would like Madhan kumar to say the title aloud to all of you now Madhan kumar reached the stage, smiling from ear to ear, and took the mike in his hands. He paused to regain his breath and then said, How to steal a story?

************************************* If you understand the true meaning behind the ending of this story, please let me know. - Ashwin Saravanan