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Showing posts from July, 2017

Window Seat by Yashluv Virwani

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A window seat often offers the best vantage point for a person to observe the world going by. Yashluv Virwani explores this concept to the fullest in his riveting anthology titled ‘Window Seat’, capturing the imagination right from his ‘Prologue’ which entices the reader with the refrain “I was drunk and the night was red”, and ending on a twist. ‘Cliché’ deals with the young writer who comes in search of Veronika just so that he can keep away from the screams and the howling, the negative presence in his room. Veronika enjoys the lights and colours that flow around her “like the fireflies, from the tales of a childhood raconteur, in the vastness of nothing.” She is an artist who fills her own life with colours; he a writer of logic, two souls who come together to create magic. ‘Window Seat’ is a tender story of a housewife who lives in her world cooking up a storm, and a tenant below who looks out at the world from his window. Their two souls meet when “the spear o

Yudhisthira -The Unfallen Hero

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A short extract from Yudhisthira - The Unfallen Hero by Mallar Chatterjee Yudhisthira The Unfallen Pandava By Mallar Chatterjee The forest was eerily silent. Only my voice was audible. Each time I shouted for Vidura, flocks of birds were taking off from treetops creating a flutter that immediately subsided back into silence. Suddenly, I heard a strange sound. It sounded as if someone was rushing through the jungle bushes. The sound was moving away from me. Curious, I chased the sound. I was so desperate that no fear of danger could cross my mind at that time. I saw a strange being—obviously a human—run away. The man was shockingly thin. His bones were sharply jutting out from beneath his skin. He was completely naked. His long, unkempt, dirty hair-strands formed natural braids dangling from his head. His emaciated face was almost fully covered with anarchic beards, most of which was whitish. The whole body of the strange man was covered with scums and dirt.

The Homing Pigeons

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The littlest one of us all was coming home to spend her summer break with Mom. (We were three sisters, till Mom adopted our oldest sister and made her part of our hearts and hearth.) So the two of us booked our tickets as well, albeit in by different modes of transport, and landed up on Mom’s doorstep, like the proverbial homing pigeons. Being home is like being thrown into the midst of the Kumbh Mela, for Mom’s doors are always open, literally and metaphorically. We had grown up with the notion that we would have to share her with the world, and its denizens. Hence, it does not faze us when we come down in the morning, a trifle bleary-eyed, and find an old student and his parents sitting in the drawing room at seven thirty in the morning. Before our first cup of tea is downed, the dining table is often all full, with a friendly barrage of dosas flying their way across onto people’s plates, replete with coconut chutney, three varieties of gunpowder and as many cups of coffe

Better to Wink at Life by Kamran Ahmad

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The title gives you a hint of what this light-hearted book is all about. 'Better to Wink at Life’ is a compilation of Kamran Ahmad’s thoughts, experiences and memories, all held together with the glue of good humour and irony. As one wades into the narrative, one is bombarded with amusing situations peppered with snappy comebacks and quirky lines. The quote, “Of all the things I have lost, I miss my mind the most,” sets the tone for the writing, and prepares the reader to expect many more such witty missiles. That the author has a well-entrenched funny bone is obvious, but what is even more so is the fact that he has an equally witty better half, “a lady endowed with a wonderful sense of humour” as he himself acknowledges. He refers to her as “a duchess of drama and a bundle of conflicts” but it is apparent that she is the one who makes his life fun and exciting. Her observations about him are often nonchalant and acerbic, causing him to mock-lament,  “It was hard now t

Grow up Messy by Paromita Goswami

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A Hilarious Coming of Age Series Book 1 How is it possible not to fall in love with a five-year old named Misry, who ends up being called Messy because she is anything but tidy? Her many endearing traits make her adorable, but she has her moments of mischief that get her into trouble often. Befriending children who are older than herself, asking crazy questions and craving the company of children apart from her cousin, Raju, Messy has a mind of her own which makes her do exactly what she wants to do. She is fearless, and does not shrink from waging war with Bheeru and the other village kids. However, there is another side of Messy as well, her fear of ghosts which prevents her from sleeping during the day. She enjoys listening to her father, Anurag, who regales her with bedtime stories of the BSF and others filled with adventure. Her mother, Madhavi, takes over this task when her father is not around, which is often.  Misry misses her father when he is away, patroll

Hey, You need to Behave like a Grandma Now!

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Ah, well, I was wondering when the above comment was going to hit me like a ton of bricks! Nor was I disappointed, for, even when my little granddaughter was not even a twinkle in the eye of her parents, (the actual moment was when my daughter was standing with her brand new husband on stage for her reception!), I heard a sonorous voice behind me rumble. “Ah, well! You will soon need to behave like a grandma!” “Huh?” I was flummoxed for the moment, and tongue-tied. How on earth do you respond to comments like that? By the time I had thought up a suitable rejoinder, the sonorous voice was busy giving free, fatal advice elsewhere. Let me tell you at the start, I have always been happy with the person I am. Maybe a trifle crazy (blame my family and friends for that!), sometimes a bit blunt (a Saggi trait) and always ready for a lark, followed by a laugh. After all, even the Bard got it right when he said,  "We are such stuff/  As dreams are made on; and our littl

Rice Plate - 16 Flavours of Life by Kshitiz Sudhakar

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Rice Plate - 16 Flavours of Life (StoryMirror) A rice plate is a melange of food items, set off by colours that make each dish unique. The palate gets to taste a mind-boggling variety, as the salty, the sweet, the sour and the bitter come together in a wholesome blend. This is probably what story teller, Kshitiz Sudhakar, tries to convey in his anthology ‘Rice Plate – 16 Flavours of Life’. The idea is a wonderful one, but how far does the young man go to achieve this? Dishes: As far as the variety goes, the reader is not disappointed. From an over-ambitious writer-turned-actor who can do anything for an audition (The Stolen Opportunity), to an atheist who discusses the process of life with the gods (Four Gods and an Atheist), from an interesting dialogue between comic creator, Andy and his creation (Andy and the Andyman) to a philosophical conversation between three dogs who met in Heaven (Jhonny, Sherru and Kevin), the themes are varied. Flavours: What gives life to fo