A woman’s skin remembers every touch it has ever known. A village weaver wields the power to save a life on Kurukshetra’s battlefield. A mother finds her dead daughter waiting in the kitchen on her birthday. A tiger keeps vigil on a forest road for the poacher who killed its kin. The 23 stories in the first Red Pen Anthology range from the mythic and the everyday, the bizarre and the familiar.
This collection by the Indian Copyeditors Forum was born when shapers of other people’s stories shaped their own, when copyeditors whose red pens smatter other manuscripts with corrections decided to use them to write their own stories.
Curated by Cora Pereira Bhatia and Inderpreet Kaur Uppal, let this debut endeavour by editors-turned-authors surprise you.
I just finished reading the story “The First Daughter” written by Anu Chowdipura, a fellow alumnus of Malnad College of Engineering, in The Red Pen Anthology.
I had seen Anu speaking about The Red Pen on social media, and I could sense her excitement at holding a physical copy containing her own writing for the first time. Since she lives in Silicon Valley, I went in with a completely different expectation. I wondered whether her story would be about technology, Silicon Valley, Artificial Intelligence, or perhaps the impact AI is beginning to have on humanity.
Curiosity got the better of me.
And, of course, there was another reason for ordering the book — a small gesture to encourage a fellow MCE alumnus pursuing the craft of writing.
I have always had tremendous respect for people who can tell stories. I have several friends who write, and I know that writing something that can hold another person's attention is far more difficult than it appears.
The book arrived yesterday.
And my first surprise was this: it wasn't one person's book at all.
The Red Pen Anthology brings together 24 stories from 24 authors, each carrying its own voice, experience, and perspective.
Naturally, I first turned to Anu's story.
I initially thought I would skim through a few pages and return to it later in the evening.
That didn't happen.
I finished the entire story in one sitting.
That, perhaps, is the simplest compliment I can give a writer.
As I read, one part of my mind was following the story while another kept analysing it.
Where is she taking this?
Is this fiction?
Is this a lived experience?
Whose story is this?
Is there a larger message underneath it?
And that curiosity stayed with me until the end.
What struck me most was something larger than the story itself.
In the age of Generative AI, lived experience still matters
We are entering an extraordinary period where AI can write essays, poems, stories and even imitate styles remarkably well.
But there is something fundamentally human about narrating an experience that one has lived, felt, feared, believed in or struggled to understand.
AI can rearrange what humanity has already expressed.
But the moment when a person experiences something deeply and then decides, “I need to tell this story” — that still belongs to the human being.
Perhaps that is why anthologies like this become even more relevant in the Generative AI era.
They remind us that human creativity is not merely about producing words. It is about giving meaning to experience.
Anu's story also made me reflect on another subject that we sometimes dismiss too quickly — belief.
Those of us trained in science and engineering naturally look for evidence, logic and explanations. That discipline is important.
But human civilisation has also evolved through traditions, cultures, rituals, faith and experiences that do not always fit neatly into equations.
The story reminded me of a conversation I had some time ago after the phenomenal success of Kantara.
A friend and fellow alumnus, Pushpalatha, was speaking very emotionally about the tradition of Panjurli Daiva in her native place — how generations continue to worship and how deeply those beliefs remain woven into people's lives.
The engineer in me initially wanted to debate.
Faith? Fiction? Science? Evidence?
Instead, I listened.
And somewhere during that conversation, a thought occurred to me.
Perhaps education should not make us arrogant about what we know.
It should make us humble about how much we still don't know.
We can be engineers, scientists, doctors or technologists professionally, while still respecting the cultural and spiritual beliefs that people have carried for generations.
Science and belief do not always have to fight for the same space.
Sometimes, simply respecting another person's experience is enough.
In fact, as AI increasingly begins to influence what we read, what we believe, what we buy and perhaps even what we think, maintaining our own human perspective may become more important than ever.
Otherwise, there is an interesting irony ahead of us:
We may build increasingly human-like machines while slowly becoming increasingly machine-like humans.
Stories can prevent that.
Stories make us pause.
Stories allow us to enter somebody else's world for a few minutes.
And occasionally, they make us reconsider something we thought we already understood.
Anu managed to do that for me.
More importantly, she did it without preaching. She simply told a story and allowed the reader to think.
That is good storytelling.
Congratulations, Anu Chowdipura, on seeing your writing in print.
As a fellow MCE alumnus, it is wonderful to see people from our community exploring areas far beyond engineering and technology — writing, creativity and storytelling included.
Keep writing.
Keep surprising your readers.
And I hope The Red Pen Anthology is only the first of many books that will carry your name.
🪶The collection is diverse but many stories have a ghost/supernatural/ paranormal themes, others explore 'psychological unease and the unknown'.
🪶My favorite stories: Flame of the forest by Saon Bhattacharya, The Cartographer of Touch by Yamini Kaul, Blind to the Ink by Rajan Bhatia and Erosion by Geetha Achuthan Kutty Nair.
Some excerpts :
🪶A coldness spread through my chest, as though my body understood something that my mind refused to accept,
🪶Free will is humanity's greatest gift from the cosmic order, but also their greatest burden.
🪶Whatever you choose, choose with all your heart. The cosmic order can bear any decision made in love.
🪶You' ve done what's right, not what was easy. The cosmic order recognises such sacrifice, even if mortals never do.
🪶We are not defined by what we escape, but by what we choose to pursue. I escaped illision. I escaped compromise. But I forgot to pursue clarity. I forgot to pursue joy. I am trying again.
🪶Her eyes had that mysterious look that hid behind it- her pain- yet sparkled with understanding that, felt other's pain. 🪶 Even in the deepest darkness, courage can create its own dawn, resilience, hope and the power of turning pain into purpose, children, life is not always fair. But you must remember- no one can take away your courage, your will to rise again, that is your true strength., i turned my suffering into strength. Darkness could not silence my spirit.
🪶Those who enjoy fiction and short stories can check out the book
Trigger/content 🚧warning: child abuse, trauma, some stories are disturbing and triggering, suicide/self immolation, violence and acid attack.
When wielders of the red pen take up writing, their quills produce an eclectic mix of stories. This 24-story collection by members of the Indian Copyeditors Forum has something for all fiction readers: mystery, love, fantasy, sci-fi and mythology.