Trials and Tribulations by Fire

Kalyani stared hard at the envelope she was clutching in her hands. Her legs were going to give up soon, she knew. She was running as fast as she could. The postmaster’s house seemed light years away, though she had been running only for the past five minutes. Her mother, Bhairavi, had instructed her to get the contents of the letter read. The Postmaster had come by when her mother was bathing at the ghat . Kalyani had gleefully received the letter, forgetting to get it read. Bhairavi, on her return, had slapped Kalyani on her back chiding her for this miss. So, it was more like a penance for her slip. Kalyan, her brother older by a few years, had watched all this silently, munching on his akki roti , a glee pasted on his cherubic face.    Little Kalyani, all of seven, ran like the wind. After covering a few hundred metres she realized the futility of her exercise. The lure of the jaggery-dipped sweetmeat had pushed her into agreeing for this errand. If only she could turn back

Name: Have a Safe Journey   Author: Various Authors Publisher: Amaryllis  Pages: 232  The blurb:  Have a Safe Journey is probably the first compilation of short stories on the topic of road safety to be published in India.  Guest Authors:  Anand Neelakantan, Ashwin Sanghi, Kiran Manral, Pankaj Dubey, Priyanka Sinha Jha, Shinie Antony, and Vikram Kapur  Authors from the #HaveaSafeJourney contest Ambalika, Anukriti Verma, Aritri Chatterjee, Arvind Passey, Barnali Ray Shukla, Dipali Taneja, Geetanjali Maria, Ketaki Patwardhan, Meera Rajagopalan, Ratnadip Acharya, Roshan Radhakrishnan, Roshni Chhabra, Sahar Fatima, Sanket Chaudhury, Taamra Segal, Thommen Jose, Veena Nagpal, and Vibha Lohani Review:  The book, again like the previous book I received from Manjul Publishing, is neatly bound and has absolutely no typos and no errors. The pages are nicely printed and the font size comfortable. It sits well in your palm and the cover has a glorious image of the Himalayas an

Name: I Quit! Now What?  Author: Zarreen Khan  Publisher: Amaryllis  Pages: 289 Have you ever come across a story that you can relate to so well, you wonder, why you didnt write it? Yes? Well, I just completed reading a story just like that. And I was nodding like mad. It felt so true and so close to the heart. There is thing about well-written stories. By well-written, I mean stories that are neatly packaged, have no typos or mistakes, and instantly reel you in. This story was like that. From the word go, I got hooked. To say that it is a great story would be a hype. It is not. It is a normal story, about a normal woman, about a very common occurrence. It happens to all of us, sometime or the other. Working people can relate to the story totally. The publisher sent me the book for an honest review. And here it is. A totally honest review. Initial thoughts: The moment I picked up the book I felt a smile creeping up. The cover was so simple yet powerful: Yellow, p

Slapstick, or Lonesome No More! is a science fiction novel written by American author Kurt Vonnegut. The book apparently was written in 1976 and depicts the author's views on loneliness. This science fiction novel brilliantly captures the nature of the closeness Vonnegut had with his sister Alice, who died of cancer in 1958. Apparently, her husband had died in a train accident two days before her death. Kurt Vonnegut raised her children. He wrote this book after the death of his uncle. In Slapstick, Vonnegut imagines himself and his sister as these giants Wilbur and Eliza. The Swains are Neanderthaloid dizygotic twins (giants). The twins live in a huge mansion on an asteroid with apple trees. They have servants and spend their time reading and discussing. Wilbur and Eliza's genius is unparalleled when their minds are combined but they become idiotic when separated. They return to saying 'Duh' and 'Buh' to prove their stupidity. The twins spend their time re

This post contains a portion of my new story. It shows 03:24 a.m. on my laptop. One would wonder why I am awake at this ungodly hour. I have been awake since 1:30 a.m. Tossing and turning, trying to put my turbulent thoughts to rest. My mind refuses to cooperate today. Today, of all days. It is the beginning of navratri today. In some time, I must be wide awake to usher the goddess into my humble home and perform stringent rituals to propitiate her. Is the goddess listening to me? Or is she not aware of my mental turbulence? I spent three hours thinking about him. Memories hit me like an avalanche on a high altitude mountainous slope. I slid, slowly, softly into its fold. It engulfed my mind then my whole being in its wake. His thoughts came in bursts. I shed a tear or two. I felt ashamed later. Is it right? No no, the question here is not about whether it is right or wrong, the question is why. Why? Why me? Why today, why after all these years? Isn’t it always like

Just finished reading, "Before we visit the Goddess," by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. I have been a fan of her languid prose and beautiful poetry. She brings to life the three women protagonists:Sabitri, Bela, and Tara, Grandmother, Mother, and Grand daughter. The letter that Sabitri writes to Tara is the strong point for me in this novel stretching from Assam to U.S. The men in these women's lives do have important roles to play but are not given enough standing room by themselves. Be it the CPI(M) student leader Sanjay or the two-timing Robert, they have minimal roles in Divakaruni's land. This novel belongs totally to Sabitri, I feel. Tara and Bela and Bela and Sabitri go through similar strained relationship struggles. I could relate to it so much. I love the way Divakaruni makes you go back and forth to stitch a complete tale. 

Life is... Facing sudden upheavals Dealing with morons Getting drenched in a sudden downpour Admiring a sleeping S Believing in the almighty Letting go  Hanging on to faith Sleeping for some more time on a Sunday Standing up to a bully Loving unconditionally

Suddenly, I have nothing left. To spend my time on. Today, it just ended, I had an inkling, it would. But, I had certainly worked a bit for it. I should have been a bit more careful, but for what, I do not know. Had I been more vigilant, would this have happened? No, I know, it would not have...I am like that no, flippant, careless and sometimes I take things for granted. But, then, few days back I was so distracted, owing to so many things...It certainly affected my writing. One thing I thought I could do well. Looks like, I cant do it while I am asleep, no? In a way it is good, I don't need to break my head over numbers and all anymore. I don't need to worry about working while sulking in Mumbai. Stress free... But, I am feeling a bit bad about being chucked out. But, hasn't that been the case, each time. Rejected...rejected...unwanted...no good. Well, everything seems to be heading that way. Bad or good, I don't know, but this is how it is. High time I focusse

  It is always a matter of time Before the screams start, the anger boils over sprouting a burn Always a matter of a few seconds Takes nothing to trigger lava Lava of tantrums, outbursts, insults Attitude I have I am told, plain speak is what I use Is it the money? Is it the worthiness of the flesh that bites? What is it? Lack of lust or love, the one emotion, anger regains and retains Always a matter of when not how It can be a continuation or a slow build up Lacklustre is the journey, tiring the tirades Materials matter more than human emotions Always a matter of time before dreams are crushed and joys submerged  

That feeling of utter helplessness, downward spiralling joy How much ever you try, you can't shake off or ignore the ever present ghost of the woman It is not about you It is always about what she could and what you cannot, ever Do I care? I don't but does it matter? Yes But not to me. Complicated it is. Am expected to be obsessed over bathroom stains while all I want is to fly away, into the oblivion, spread my wings, with no worries of financial security or rapists on the loose ready to plug the hole... Rules, rules, and more rules. Don't do this, don't do that. Wear a nightie but as soon as you get up in the morning, wear your bra and a pyjama under your nightie. Or better still, get up early in the morning and ensure you dress up like a fucking doll and serve the god. The fucking god who can sleep late because he is tired. The hypocrisy of it all is so fucking maddening that a normal person can just lose it. Is it worth it? Many well-meaning friends aske