Trials and Tribulations by Fire

Ladies and Gentlemen, Finally, after months of toil and unrest, my book has seen the light of day. It is out in shops: virtual and otherwise. I am somehow unable to express my feelings about this development. Yes, I am thrilled to bits but I have also realized that the mere printing of a book and its presence in a book shop doesnt make me a writer. I will  become a writer/author when people read my stories and recognize me. Arent we all like that, somewhere, hungry for attention? Eager to please? Being ambitious is hard-wired I think. But telling stories is not something I picked up overnight to get attention. I tell stories because it is cathartic; it gives me a feeling of lightness; of being alive. Moroever, I love spinning a yarn. So, please do visit these sites, order my book, and read the story. Flipkart: http://www.flipkart.com/legal-bond-8192263290/p/itmda2a6znabbxvn?pid=9788192263298&ref=2f65a222-2f1d-464e-9969-23a2017ad2f3 Publisher's website:   ww

I have signed up for the Haruki Murakami Reading Challenge . I read The Wind Up Bird Chronicle and After Dark. Now am reading 1Q84. I plan to read Norwegian Wood next. I will post a review soon here.

S and I went to Andaman & Nicobar for a holiday. We went crazy splashing like two little children in the warm-cold emerald green-blue waters of the Bay of Bengal. Sash had this phobia of getting into the water with just his shorts. I coaxed and coaxed till the lights were switched on and he agreed: to bare his body and jump into the ocean with just a pair of shorts. He does look yummy in shorts and nothing else. Must say, he had the most perfect physique amongst all the men bathing semi-nude on that day. My heart burst with pride and I wanted to mimic a tribal dancer showing off her man. LOL. 

  “No Rohit! Not now, please understand na . This is not good. The guy is seeing.” She untangled herself from Rohit’s embrace and wriggled to one side of the crampy auto. Shalini and Rohit, classmates at AJ College of Engineering, were dating each other. They were both seventeen and in the first year. They stayed in the hostel and had gone for a late night movie in Nagpur, around 40 kms, from their residential campus at Ramtek. Shalini was five feet seven, dusky, had large eyes, medium hair cut in waves, and a gorgeous figure. Rohit on the other hand was quite handsome, some would call him delectable, could sing like Kishore Kumar (atleast he thought so), and had a way with women. He had had many affairs and Shalini was his nth, well he considered her a contest, whereas she considered him her true lover. They knew each other since class XII, where Rohit had eyed the Maths teacher’s only daughter with a lot of lust and some love. Shalini had been quite amused with the attenti

Bang Bang Bang went the shovel I heard it but ignored it 'coz I was reading a novel My mind conjured up images when the hero dropped the towel What the hell am I writing, who am I, Tony Powell!

I had a providential opportunity to eat the proverbial shaadi ka laddu. Well here is a rundown on the experience. For all you single women out there waiting for your prince charming, please do not wait for happiness to knock on your doors. Trust me, you guys are the happiest on the planet. Yes, yes. I am not joking. Actually, at this juncture, I would be glad to go back to my single days. Of dreaming about my prince and day dreaming of romantic outings. Real life bites hard. I am bitten by the reality bug so many times, there is no place left on my body for other bites. Well, sarcasm aside, I was one of those women who wanted to join the Mrs. gang very soon. I gave up so many things dear to me to attain this. Well, I reached this peak. And I am all alone. I can see other Mrs' who are standing all alone on their peaks. The problem lies in our societal mentality. What we as women perceive as a way of attaining social status gives us just that. A status symbol. Instead, it takes a

“Hurry up, we are already late.” “Yeah, coming, why don’t you take the car out and wait for me near the gate?”  “Ok.” Sandhya aka Sandy locked the front door of the flat and checked the door. It held. She then locked the grill door and checked the huge padlock. She did that out of habit. A habit steeped in her middle class upbringing. That was then, before, she had tasted stupendous success and became the face of the largest cosmetics company. Sandy took the lift and hurried out into the front porch of the building with her small hand luggage. Louis Vuitton. Always. She was going away to participate in a fashion show in Paris. Sandhya Roy D’Costa, a Bengali by birth, world citizen by choice, had married Sam D’Costa when she was nineteen. Sam was a racer. He had now retired from the sport and managed an Audi showroom. He was a car enthusiast and had powerful friends in the city. Due to his celebrity status, he also had a lot of clout. Sandy was going to Paris for a fashion show. A

“Moti bhains!” A shrill voice pierced the evening stillness making Navneet jump out of her skin and reverie. A dull ache started from behind her left ear and threatened to spread throughout her head.   She turned her head sharply to locate the source of the shrill tone and found a fast receding thin frame clad in track pants and t-shirt running in the opposite direction. It was Shruti Yadav, her neighbor, her classmate and a constant source of irritation. Navneet continued walking towards her house. She also decided not to take the shortcut through the park anymore from college to reach home. Shaking her head to clear the jarring echo, Navneet aka Navi, started walking faster. When she reached the wrought iron gate of her house, she opened it and let it bang against the wall till it rattled, making, Koyla Ram, the dog, jump and hide behind the rose bush. Navi looked up at the sky and said, “I just wish one day she grows so fat that she can’t get inside her house. Then sh

The rains lashed the city and there was hardly any visibility. She drove the car carefully through muddy and deep waters and made it to her street. As soon as she was about to turn into her driveway she realized that there was a small obstacle in her path. A scooty was parked in the middle of the road in such a way that neither could she get inside the gate without toppling it over nor could she get down to remove the irritating piece of metal from her path. She honked lightly and the sparse crowd dispersed and a man jumped out of the way of the menacing looking black metal piece. He also hurled a choicest piece of abuse he could think of at the woman and clutching his umbrella, walked away towards the bus. She now looked out for the old watchman who was expected to cater to such emergencies. In this case, the watchman was happily guzzling some brownish or was it light brownish liquid out of an equally brown bottle. She thought for a second and then waved madly to get his at

The flight landed at 23:50 IST, Indian Standard Time. The tires screeched to a halt and we tumbled out of the jet, ready to be jet-lagged. The actual jet lag thing didn't hit me till I reached home and dozed off. The next few days were hazy, I could not understand what was happening to me. My friends were in the same boat, I believed. Or atleast I thought so, 'coz I did not turn back and check. I went to office, said the right things, returned and life continued. But the drowsiness remained. It slowly became a part of me. I was seriously jet lagged! Wow. Is this how people lag behind jets. Aah. I am now sleeping intermittently, between naps. Sleeping has become an integral part of my routine. Previously I would sleep when my routine allowed me. Now I have changed my routine to accomodate more zzzz time. Life has certainly changed, for me.