Ishwarya's Blog, page 3

The Selection

My first read of 2019!

Okay so I should have technically finished the first book of A Court of Thorns and Roses first, but the next half definitely wasn’t travel material and therefore I took The Selection by Kiera Cass with me on tour, allowing it to engage me on the flight onward as well as return.

It’s about this girl, America Singer, who is forced to sign up for the choice of bride for the gorgeous Prince Maxon, despite being in love with someone else.

She thinks the Prince is an arrogant prick. Of course, who wouldn’t when they see how he’s to select one pretty face from a choice of thirty five girls? But America discovers that her image of him is a misunderstanding, as she meets him in person and gets to know the man behind the crown. She soon finds her heart turning into a seesaw, weighing Maxon on one side and her boyfriend on the other.

It was quite a simple yet sweet read, perfect for two flight journeys, though I didn’t anticipate the cliffhanger at the end that paved way for two more books. I never knew it was part of a series when it came in Flipkart. And now I have to know what happens in The Elite and The One.

Who’s it going to be, America? Maxon or Aspen? Though in my personal opinion, I hope Maxon is painted a bit more human in the following two books. He’s just like a Disney Prince, too soft, too kind, too charming, too perfect for existence.

I’ve given this one three out of five stars.

If you’re about to fly somewhere, then I do suggest packing this one in if you’re someone who won’t leave on a plane without a book in your hand luggage.

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The Biggest Crime

Do you know what the biggest crime you can commit is?

Refusing to love and respect yourself.

Unless you do that, you really can’t love and respect anyone else.

So love and respect yourself!

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The Ride of 2018

2018.

Where do I even begin?

I don’t know what to
remember this year by. My wedding year or the year of my big accident.

Cause most of 2018 was
spent by recovering from that car crash of April 27.

On December 15, I joined my old school friends in this extremely enjoyable batch meet, where during one of the mike sessions, married people were asked to come forward and answer some funny and teasing questions. The question kept in store for me was entirely different from those though. I was asked to tell everyone about how I came out of something so big and what made me stay strong and upbeat throughout the entire phase of recovery.

It was a completely
unexpected question and I wasn’t quite sure what to say. The thing was, I was
completely okay with it but I didn’t know what to say on the spot. I reflected
back to that moment over and over again the next day, thinking about all the
things I could have said instead. So I decided to make the real answer a part
of my Ride of 2018.

I’m warning everyone right now this is a long post.

All right.

The Ride of 2018.

WHEN GOD HELD ME CLOSE AND TOOK CARE OF ME AS DIFFERENT PEOPLE:

It started off pretty
normally and all me and my family could think about was my upcoming wedding.
Invitations were on the roll and I got into designing all the Aarathis for my
cousin sisters and aunts to welcome my then fiancé into our family. Meanwhile,
we were planning about where to go for our honeymoon. Places after exotic place
were researched on by both of us and we settled on a destination that we both
loved. Air tickets were booked. I got a whole new wardrobe to enter my married
life with. Everything was slowly falling into place for April 24, 25 and 26.

But in between all of
this, I battled with an unexplainable fear.

I didn’t understand
what it was. It was so confusing and disorienting that I wondered whether it
was normal for all brides. I asked a few people around and they just tried
calming me down by saying brides are always nervous and that it’ll pass. But I
had a feeling this fear was entirely different.

It was like something
was trying to catch me.

As the wedding came
nearer and nearer, the fear only increased. I was so scared that I kept telling
Mum that maybe I was afraid of marital life and that I didn’t know what to do.
None of us understood why I was freaking out so much.

Everything I saw around
me was shaded with a strange shadow. Nothing looked normal. I couldn’t even
enjoy my cousin sister’s wedding, which was three days before mine, like the
way I wanted.

Finally, April 24
dawned with a morning function at home and I was blessed immensely by my family
and close relatives, starting off the grand wedding celebrations with smiles
and laughter all around. I forgot about my fear as soon as all of this
positivity embraced me and I enjoyed the night’s engagement function, the
beautiful and grand decorations, and the colourful and vibrant Sangeet my
family rocked the stage with. The wedding went on beautifully and I was ready
to start my marriage with all of the wonderful blessings I was endowed with.

Something continued to
feel off, but it kept itself low key until my in laws family hung around my new
home, introducing me to everything. I was comfortable with everyone and
translated my lingering fear into just normal nervousness about a new place and
new people. It’ll go away in a week.

The next day, April 27,
we left to attend my husband’s close friend’s wedding ritual. It was just the
two of us and we drove to Manamadurai in the late morning. I called my mother
to tell her and she (though she didn’t show it to me) felt afraid about the
long drive right after the wedding, but since we were already on the road, she
just told us to pluck a branch of neem leaves and have it with us – a symbolism
of Goddess Shakti protecting us. It was a smooth drive onward and I was
received extremely warmly by everyone there. We had loads of fun playing games
and then had to leave soon cause we were to be back home before dark.

The fear hadn’t left me
and I felt the need to step into the small Lord Ganesh temple at the entrance
of their compound. Something clenched me as a result of the fear bubbling and
meeting His eyes, I prayed fiercely that He protect us on the way back.

It seemed my fear was
because of the dark shadow waiting to do something extremely bad to me. A shadow
that has been lurking above my head for the last few months.

The very shadow that
finally charged in for the brutal attack it had in mind and grabbed the wheel,
spinning the car out of control. Metallic impacts and tremors shook the car and
we jumped over the divider and came to a crashing stop against the metallic
barrier of the opposite road of the highways. Meanwhile, the car held us tight
with its seatbelts, cushioned us with its airbags and then sacrificed its life
to save ours.  

The following events
were a blur. People rushing over to help, taking me to the nearby government hospital,
phone calls made.

My mind was blank and I
looked at no one, wishing for the only two people I wanted more than anything
else: Mum, Mrs Birla Rani, and Dad, Orthopaedic Surgeon Dr A. P. Kumaraguru of
KG Hospital, Coimbatore.

Till the second I saw
them, I felt extremely alone and in great danger. More danger than I was in
when that evil shadow decided to kill me, causing the car to turn into an
airplane. I spoke to no one in the hospital, not even to the people my maternal
uncle sent to be with me immediately until my parents and him arrived from my
hometown. I didn’t like looking at anyone. All I was thinking about was that
Mum and Dad come soon and the fact that I was actually in an accident. When I finally
heard Mum’s voice on the phone, a huge weight lifted off my chest. And when I
saw my Mum and Dad’s faces, whatever weight remained vanished into nothingness.

A powerful surge of
bravery and confidence filled my body, warming it. Nothing could touch me now.
I was going to be perfectly okay. I let out my first smile since the crash,
receiving them with great promises of assurance.

‘It’s going to be okay,
darling,’ Mum told me over and over. ‘Dad’s going to cure you completely.’

‘I know,’ I told her.
But I couldn’t get up nor turn on my sides. I didn’t even try, cause one
monster B of a woman who was a “doctor” in that deranged hospital yanked me to
my feet just an hour ago, maybe testing to see where I was hurt.

I was immediately shifted
to my father’s friend’s private hospital – Harshita Hospital, Madurai – as it
was nearby. Shifting me to KG Hospital, Coimbatore, was a huge travel risk at
that moment. At Harshita, I was handled gently as I was taken through the scans
and examinations. Looking at me, no one could say I had been in an accident. Cause
there were no outside injuries except for the seatbelt scraping my neck. But
the internal damages told a totally different story.

Dad was very concerned
about scanning the abdomen entirely, no matter how many scans it took. Cause
abdominal injuries and the aftermath don’t show up in the first scan. Loads of
people in a highway accident have lost their lives because doctors take just one
abdominal scan, see there is no internal blood leakage and then perform no
surgery to fix the fatalities within. Dad has seen a ton of those and has
always felt extremely bad about the limited number of proper general surgeons
to open the abdomen. People are only concerned about the bones breaking and ask
Dad to fix the fractures first. But in that scenario, the abdomen is more
important than the bones, because the latter poses no threats to the patient’s
life.

I was saved from the
critical complications of heavy intestinal damage by Dr V. P. Shanmugasundaram,
an incredibly talented General Surgeon, and Dr. Senthil, a very caring and
skilled Anaesthetist from KG Hospital. They are in great comradeship with my
father and the second Dad told them what happened to me, they said they were
going to drive over to Madurai immediately and not to shift me anywhere.

I’ve heard about Dr VPS
and Dr Senthil before but it was through the blurry eyes of my sedation in the
ICU that I saw them for the first time, assured by their kind faces I was in
great hands. Dad was confident and relieved by their presence and that made me
smile, resulting in absolutely no fear of surgery as I was wheeled in for my
damages to be fixed with great care and attention. All I felt was – Okay, I am certainly going to pull through
this. I know I will. I can do this.

This helped me a lot
and after the surgery was successfully complete, Dr VPS said the following
words to my mother, ‘Your daughter is stronger than anyone I’ve seen. She’s
going to be better than before, I guarantee you that.’ When I opened my eyes
post surgery, I felt an up surge of gratitude and warmth that told me it was
the Lord to bring Dr VPS and Dr Senthil to help me. My hands involuntarily
folded to them.

Now that the big
surgery was out of the way, it was time to fix my bones. I had my right collar
bone and spine fractured. Spine specialists in Dad’s contacts assured him the
spine will heal by itself and that since I am young, there is no need for any
surgery. But the initial healing cost me 37 days of complete bed rest. A week
after my first abdominal surgery, Dad fixed my collar bone.

There was no reason to
be afraid of this surgery either and I basically startled my family by waving
and smiling at them on my way into the Operation Theatre. They were taken aback
but were amused and relieved by my attitude. What was there to be afraid of?
Nothing. Not with my parents beside me.

I’m a fitness freak and
all those workouts of the last four years gave me a huge leg up. The cells were
extremely active and gave my body rich blood supply to aid in fast healing. My
Dad had to detach the fractured bone with another instrument since it had
already started to heal itself.  

But my positivity
became permanent only after the first week, because I found it quite difficult
to cope up with my condition in the first few days after the crash. I am only
human. I kept hearing the metallic earthquake I experienced over and over in my
head. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom. I couldn’t eat
what I wanted. And I wanted to go home.

Every time my
grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins came to visit me and then left, I
wanted nothing more than to ask my parents and husband to take me home too.
There was a day I even started crying because of homesickness and the fact I
missed myself. I wanted to run. I wanted to dance. I wanted to climb on the
cross trainer, sweat out half a litre of toxins, stand underneath the shower
and then sit at my writing desk to go back to my fantasy world.

This depression had a
toll on my stomach, causing gastric acid to secrete and then have me throw the
lot up.

Mum and Dad gave me a
hard stare. They reminded me that my smiles and my bravery was what kept them
strong. They reminded me of how brave I was when they came to see me at the GH
(“You didn’t really look like a girl who had an accident”). They reminded me of
how brave I was before I went in for surgery (“Remember you gave us the double
thumbs up?”).

I nodded, taking it all
in.

And that did it.

It was all it took to
get my confidence to fill my body again.

I needed to get off the bed. Not make myself prey to it.
No more silly, dark and sad thoughts. I’m pulling through this once and for
all.

From the fifth day of
my crash, my headrest was brought up except for the time I slept, allowing me
to watch what my team of amazing nurses was doing. I looked at the ICU in an
entirely new light, using whatever I had to enjoy myself. I finally started using
the Internet in my phone, having been allergic to it the past few days, and
started watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S (my favourite sitcom) clips. I also listened to
audio books, music, and made friends of my nurses. They were so kind, beautiful
inside and out, and took such great maternal care of me, making sure to
encourage me whenever possible. I never made a fuss actually, which pleased
them immensely.

‘She’s so calm and
co-operative,’ they praised me to Mum.

I was discharged after
another week and we came back to my hometown for a couple of weeks, before
heading to Coimbatore for the follow up abdominal surgery of the first.

Before the day of the
surgery, Dr VPS took an abdominal scan and was amazed by how there were no internal
traces of the first surgery, as a result of fast healing.

The superwoman who was
behind that is my mother.

Knowing so much about
how food alone can heal so much of the body, she’s kind of a maestro in
nutrition. She knew exactly what to give me to heal my abdomen and spine,
leading to wonderful results that astounded everyone.

I was in a very good mood on the day of surgery, since all that I was thinking about was how far I’ve come through and that with the final surgery, I’m well on my way to becoming completely normal again. I just have to get up off the bed. But I knew that day was coming closer and closer. In fact, I was dancing around on the bed an hour before I was wheeled in for surgery, causing my husband to glare and call me an insane woman, because he was terrified.

This was a bigger
surgery than the previous one and to get the secretion out of my stomach, tubes
were attached to my body. I had difficulties with those and it was a relief the
second they were taken out of me. The next day one of most problematic tubes
were removed, Dad told me it was time to get up.

He gave me my spinal
belt to wear to keep my column in place while I moved. ‘Up you get,’ he said,
bringing my headrest up to the maximum so that I was in a sitting position.
Taking in a deep breath, I held one of the nurses and inched toward the edge of
my bed, feeling a little woozy.

I swung my legs down,
pausing for a second to allow my body to adjust. It had become so accustomed to
the horizontal position that it was wondering how to deal with the vertical
position, starting to send blood to my lower body. I stood up, realizing my
legs had gotten incredibly stiff. I had already anticipated this but not this
much. Holding my mother and the nurse for support, I took my first steps,
slowly and steadily. I knew I wouldn’t be able to balance if they let go.

And I couldn’t have had
proper vision either.

Because my blood
pressure dove down with a large amount of blood being pumped to my legs to help
support my body and the entire room spun, like I was caught in a whirlwind. I
would have fainted hadn’t I been quickly ushered back to the bed. Mum already
had glucose and juices ready to get my system back in order but my body almost
turned into an icicle. I shivered and as soon as I gulped down the sugar, I lay
back down and slept deeply for two hours straight.

From then on, I was
subjected to physio to get my muscles back in order. I was actually reluctant to
get off the bed though, afraid of the dizziness. After yearning to walk for so
long, I actually ended up being afraid of the prospect, something my husband
intended to change as soon as possible. He’s a champion basketball player and a
very strict coach. He took me up as his trainee and started to put me through regular
walking sessions, paying no attention to my hesitation.

‘Imagine you’re working
out on the cross trainer,’ he told me after my two hour nap on the first day.

‘I really can’t,’ I
said, cause at that moment, I was wondering how in the world I managed to do
that. Experiencing the whirlwind in my head and my stiff and weak muscles with
each step, I was very worried that I probably forgot how to even walk. Then how
can I imagine myself on the cross trainer?

‘Just do it,’ he
insisted. ‘Imagine you’re sweating it out to Taylor Swift’s music. Imagine you’re
jogging around in your grandparents’ backyard. Imagine all that energy.’

I did. I imagined all
those. And that afternoon, I managed to get myself to the opposite bed and sit
there for fifteen minutes.

‘Just don’t pay
attention to your head,’ he advised. ‘Don’t give the dizziness any importance.
Just be normal. Look around. Talk to me.’

The nervousness
persisted for a few days but he didn’t allow it to make me prey. Even if I ask
for my phone from the stand two feet away, he’ll be like, ‘Go get it yourself.
Get up.’

I slowly progressed
from walking around the room and then going out into the corridor to say hi to
the nursing station, where my team beamed bright.

After I was discharged and came back home, it took just another five days of walking before my regular pace was returned to my legs. I soon progressed to walking around for an entire hour. Dad even tested me by taking me to Brookefield Mall and to Jurassic World movie. I pulled through all that and we were all very pleased to see my fast return to normalcy.

And that was when I reflected back to those 37 days I was totally on the bed.

Felt like 37 years.

That was the time I
realised what being bored was like. I mean, I’ve had loads of people stare at
me astonishment when I say I’m a stay at home writer. ‘You just stay home and
write? You don’t go out? You didn’t pursue a post graduate? How in the world
are you not bored?’

‘Bored? Me?’ I reply
with amusement. ‘Believe me, I don’t have enough time.’

It’s true. I’m always
either writing or reading a book, or doing something or the other to keep
myself occupied. It’s never a boring day. When someone tells me they’re bored,
I’m like, ‘Well if you’re so sick of your time, please give me it so I can use
it.’

As I got better day by
day, I was ready to come back to my hometown and come live with my husband. I
have help with most of the household work, which I can’t manage owing to my
still healing spine and healing scars from my abdominal surgery, but I prefer
cooking to be under my own control. It’s such a great feeling when my husband
keeps telling me the meals I make are extremely delicious.

The whole thing is a
dream for me. Most of the events are like a blur and I can’t even think about
the crash again. Anytime I try, it doesn’t play out or explode in my ears like
it did that first week. The memory is just a faint, harmless presence.

The only thing I
remember clearly and will always remember is how my recovery was not my effort,
but a team effort – Me, Mum, Dad, my husband and Shivi (my little brother). I
love you all so much for staying beside me and making my challenge fluidly easy
to deal with. Cause the thing is, the secret to my fast recovery was that none
of us allowed the anguish within to show on our faces. If I had whined or
complained about my condition, all four of them would have felt shattered. I
charged my bravery and confidence from what all four of them were capable of.

Mum worked tirelessly
for two months. The only day she let her devastation take over was on that
Saturday, the next day of my crash. That was when she came to know of the truth
of my internal damages and what I was in for, causing her extreme distress she
couldn’t contain. But after my first surgery that Saturday night, after Dr VPS
gave her strong assurance of my will power, she squared her shoulders and
dominated her stress.

‘I’m getting her off
that bed,’ were her only thoughts. ‘I’m feeding her body with everything
healthy to heal her. I’m getting her off that bed.’

And that was what drove
her to stay focused on the nutrition I needed for my body to turn back normal.
She didn’t let anything distract her. She was so grateful her phone had a problem
that didn’t notify any incoming calls, and just concentrated on thinking about
what I needed next. The two weeks at my hometown before going to Coimbatore
were the days she worked extremely hard, cause she also had to replace the jobs
the nurses at the hospital did too. With such a strong and warrior lady to take
amazing care of me, why should I complain?

Dad kept a close eye on each and every day of my progress. Before I was shifted to Harshita Hospital, he went back to the crash site and examined the destroyed car from every single minute angle, cause he can find out the prospective damages to my body from the amount of the damage on the car. My maternal uncle, who went with him and couldn’t look at the car, stated that no one could ever have that amount of bravery to examine the thing that crashed your child. Whatever damages my father said I would have, I did. He made sure to take every single necessary scan and X-Rays, plus he was the one to fix my collar bone. Aside from the fact I felt safer than I ever could in that surgery, I asked Dad, a few days later, in some wonder at how his hands didn’t shake. He smiled and said, ‘If I’d considered you as my daughter for one second, that would have been of no help. I just looked at you as any other patient.’

With such an amazing
doctor to take care of me and watch over my condition in each phase, why should
I complain?  

My husband kept my
energy alive with conversations and banters. We talked a lot that it took my
mind off the fact I was on the bed and we also bickered. The same was with my
brother. I bickered with him too, and aside from that, since he knows
everything about what I like, he set up the laptop in front of me so we can
watch our common favourite movies together. We act silly when we do that,
speaking along with the dialogues and laughing like maniacs.

With energy sources
like that to be my regular, crazy self, why should I complain?

It was true the five of
us were stressed at my condition. We all wished I cure soon, but we never let
the stress play on our faces. Cause we gave and received strength from each
other. If any of us let the stress take over, I wouldn’t have made such a fast
recovery.

Smiles, love, care,
energy and laughter kept us up and going and got me off the bed.   

Thank you so much to Dr
VPS, for his dedicated attention, benevolence and excellent surgical practice
in giving me back my digestive system with no traces of any damage occurred. He
told me that he was discharging me only after I ate my favourite food – non-vegetarian
– which happened very quickly, proving he is a maestro in his field. Thank you
so much to Dr Senthil for his compassion, skill in liberating my body from pain,
brilliant anaesthetic procedure that kept me stable and unaware of surgery, and
soothing the time to time internal irritations. He and Dr VPS gave me great
laughs to keep me entertained at KG.  

Thank you so much to the
nurses at Harshita and KG for taking such great maternal and patient care of me.
They enter my room every day with a smile and a, ‘Good morning, Ishu, how are
you today? Slept well?’ As we go through my morning routine, I play my
favourite devotional songs. They kept telling my mother, ‘If everyone else is
calm and co-operative like her, we can take care of any number of patients.’
Their sweet smiles, their soft natures and their warm way of handling me made
me love them so much and every time I go to Coimbatore, I visit KG to see my
team, earning beams of smiles as they see how much better I look.

Thank you, Dr. G. Bakthavathsalam (Chairman of KG Hospital), for taking great interest in my father’s skills back when he joined at KG in the February of 2017. One of the main intentions as we shifted from the United Kingdom back to India was that my father wished to implement everything that he had learnt to our people, giving them better medical care than what they hope for. My father has always loved taking up challenges in Orthopaedics too. They were provided to him at KG and he loves his job, as he tackles with interesting cases day after busy day. Thank you, GB sir, for respecting my father’s skill and talent and thereby blessing me with the excellent medical care of Dr VPS and Dr Senthil too.

I wouldn’t be where I am without any of these invaluable people.

The day of my crash, the Lord rushed to hold me tight against Him, minimizing the damages to ones that were treatable and less traumatizing. Then he made His presence known again and again through everyone who helped me get back on my feet and give me back my life. I’ll always remember this phase of my life as the time the Lord proved how much He loves me.

I might have missed out on my honeymoon. I might have missed out on a normal start to my marriage. I might have spent my birthday on bed rest. But I’m happy that what I went through has inspired a lot of people to wear seat belts and drive extremely carefully on the road.

I will be completely normal soon enough and I will go on all those trips I missed, but this is a lesson I feel satisfied to have taught everyone. Safety always comes first. Not the thrill of adventure.

Please always stay safe and healthy.

A very Happy New Year
2019, everyone!

Jai Shree Krishna

~ Deepika Ishwarya
Kumaaraguru

Impossible Thought

As I was grating carrots, radishes, turnips and cheese the other day, I peered closely at the minute pieces, wondering if it was possible to recreate the carrots, radishes and turnips and cheese by locating the right pieces and joining them together again. 

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Can it really be done?

Is it really, really possible to fix them back like a jigsaw puzzle? 

Interesting.

And just so you guys know, I created a Facebook page for myself yesterday. Newly started – Deepika Kumaaraguru, a lover of creating fantasy worlds to centre novels around so she can write whatever she wants – and if you’re interested, please log in to Facebook and click to follow.

Have a great day ahead!

Jai Shree Krishna

Your Creation Should Be In Demand!

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When Life gives you milk, make chocolate out of it so that your creation is always in demand.

Attract people with your talent. Allow your mind to tangent in all directions possible to make them treat their taste buds with that chocolate! 

Imagination On Gear!

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Hey there, guys, how’s it going? 

I found this one liner writing prompt on Google that inspired a short on-the-spot scene. Read on to find out what came out of my head

Unpopular Opinions on Love and Relationships

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I was challenged by Bala (Author Balakarthiga, whose author interview is my previous post) to list unpopular opinions on love and romance and I have five of them.

There is no such thing as love at first sight. You can’t associate something so beautifully built over time, commitment, laughs, common interests, uncommon interests (trust me, this sparks amazing debates), silly fights and compromises that strengthen the bond to just a second of laying eyes on a person. Rewards don’t come easily. All the bashing memes about girlfriends and wives are NOT FUNNY. It is so not entertaining to stereotype wives as this she-devil with a pitchfork the moment you get home. I once heard about a wedding photographer make this comment to the groom, ‘Smile for the last time.’ He should have been punched in the mouth for that. It is not funny. And NO, it is NOT a joke. Who the hell is he to determine the fact that the bride – who has dreamed of this moment her entire life, who has fallen head over heels in love with the man she just tied the knot with, who has images of the happiness she wants to protect her husband and children in, who wishes to make sure she keeps their immunity strong – will be a monster at home? A guy turning into a husband doesn’t mean his smile will vanish and a girl turning into a wife doesn’t mean she’ll turn into a monster.“Love? Relationships? Marriage? I’m ambitious and career driven, those will certainly bring me down!” Getting committed to someone certainly doesn’t mean your whole world will come crashing down. Every ambitious person I know about have spouses and baes who protect them with full support of what they’re doing. I know, cause I’m blessed with one too.“Who needs marriage? Friendship is the best!” I don’t think living a single life depending on friendship alone, determining love and romance is toxic, is the best choice for anyone. Sure, true friends are precious and they are always there for you, but can you always find them at home? Can you actually feel the void you’re not aware of be filled? Can you actually never ever feel lonely? People have their own lives to live. They’re not thinking about you 24/7. Unlike your spouse or bae. They hold your hand permanently. It’s not always the guy’s job to ask a girl out on a date. Girl, if you really like him and feel like making the first move, just square your shoulders and go for it. I don’t believe that a girl’s boldness and straightforwardness is intimidating and scary, let alone eyebrow raising.

With those five personal unpopular opinions, I rest my case

Author Interview with Balakarthiga

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AFour years in the making, Butterfly Met Hurricane by Author Balakarthiga has gone through challenges similar to the one a baby takes up as it makes its way out of its mother’s womb. Safe, nourished and protected by Bala in her laptop, this book forayed into the world to create goose bumps on the skin of every reader.

Circling around the hurricane that refers to either of the protagonists – Kayal and Cyril – Butterfly Met Hurricane deals with the darkest recess of the human heart and mind. The black holes are brought out with thundering language that saturates the pen of this young lady. 

Let’s have a talk with Bala and summon out some of the mysteries that make this author so well crafted in the art of writing.

Deepika: Why did you write this book?

Bala: Vulnerability is a trait very unspoken of in romance novels. I wanted to tell a story about two flawed characters, and the chaos that uncovers with each decision they make, eventually blowing off a happily ever after.

Deepika: How long did it take for the writing process?

Bala: For this particular book, it took me four years to finish writing it.

Deepika: Which was the hardest scene to write?

Bala: The climax I struggled with how to make it believable and real. It took me a long while to arrive at the maturity I needed to write this climax. I started this story when I was 20. I had to become the person I was, experience the things I experienced to write the climax that I wrote at 24.

Deepika: Do you read your book reviews? How do you deal with good and bad ones?

Bala: I do. I don’t believe in being sensitive about bad reviews. In fact, I strongly believe that a book is a product, and when someone pays for it, it doesn’t really belong to me anymore. The minute I make the decision to publish my work and put it out there – it belongs to the reader. What they want to say  about my book, is their freedom. Critics – both good and the harsh, are well within their rights as a consumer to say what they want to say. I think encourage an open space for people to express negative feelings about a book is very healthy, and very important.

Deepika: How do you select the names of your characters?

Bala: I am very very choosy about naming my characters! Infact, I stick with ethnic, and real names that we see in our daily lives, in our country. I consciously stay away from names that sound new, rare or fantastical. I like simple, everyday names – especially when I’m writing romance or a contemporary.

I believe that when I  name a character, almost 80 percent of my job is done. The names speaks to me. It tells me what the person is like, what they would do, and what they probably wouldn’t.  

Deepika: How many unpublished and half written books do you have?

Bala: I have two unpublished manuscripts and two works in progress. I do not have any half-written books!

Deepika: Does writing energise or exhaust you?

Bala: If it exhausts me, I wouldn’t be doing it!

Deepika: What’s your favourite under-appreciated novel?

Bala: I think all of Ashwin Sanghi’s novels deserve more love. Sure, he has his own cult  following, but I feel like the man is really filling a void in the Indian Publishing Industry by writing political conspiracies, and he deserves to be celebrated like a rockstar!

Deepika: What is your writing Kryptonite?

Bala: A noisy, messy room filled with way too many people.

Deepika: Have you ever gotten reader’s block?

Bala: I have managed to finish my goodreads challenge two years in a row, so I think I haven’t had any reading slumps, or whatever it is that we’re calling it. I actively participate in the bookstagram community, and when you are on the internet, meeting and talking to people about books, I highly doubt you’ll ever have a reader’s block!  

Deepika: Do you think someone could be a writer if they don’t feel emotions strongly?

Bala: Personally, I think one of the most important thing that fuels a writer is empathy. While I can’t say if someone can or cannot write if they don’t feel strongly, I believe that those who do feel strongly write better books!

Deepika: What is the most unethical practice in the publishing industry?

Bala: Paid reviews.

Deepika: Any final thoughts to add?

Bala: Where do I even begin? Probably by being so frikkin’ humbled and proud all at the same time.

This career as an author of two books wouldn’t be possible without all the wonderful people who buy my work. If you guys buy or preorder my book, please let me know in the comments or in DM, so that I can thank you personally.  You can even tweet to me @BalakarthigaBk

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To get your copy of BUTTERFLY MET HURRICANE, click on the link. 

Don’t Let Anything Press Your Head

Day after busy day

You press my head

In an effort to cleanse your hands

But what is used to wash away whatever is pressing your head?

What is used to destroy your stress the way I destroy harmful microbes of your palms?

Darling, I live for my head to be pressed

But you shouldn’t live that way

Don’t let anything press your head

You love my lavender scent

I love the sweet scent of a free and happy mind

Don’t let anything press your head

Love,

Your loyal hand wash. 

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~~~~~

Hey, guys, how are you all? I hope everyone is safe, healthy and well. I’ve been such a defunct blogger for the past month and a half and I owe all my dedicated readers a huge apology! I am back to my blog and hope to get back into my old regime as soon as possible!

Thank you so much for continuing to support me and my work, you guys are the best! 

Everyone can relate with how even one comment of appreciation for a post can light up a writer’s day anytime. The happiness of being on this social platform created and dedicated solely for writers is immeasurable

Our Clumsy Thumbsies

Anyone who watches The Ellen Show must be very aware of the comic segment – Clumsy Thumbsies – where Ellen reads out text messages that are messed up by the very intelligent autocorrect on every smart phone. While I was texting my best friend, Priya Darshni, my autocorrect pitched in its brain to change the word ‘yesterday’ to ‘Ystradgynlais’ which frankly I’m sure doesn’t exist in any language.

Maybe my phone was manufactured by a bunch of aliens, I don’t know.

We both had a laugh over it and that’s when we discussed about a combined blog post targeting solely on the autocorrect. We’d each construct a passage of our own and then unleash the autocorrect on it, to see the kind of weird words and sentence construction it makes.

The thing is, the autocorrect is most weird when you draw the words instead of typing them, so that’s how we’re going to present our passages, by drawing it.

This is the result I came up with:

There were two disks on the bathroom of tannery year old Natalie. One, a lovely baby pink, day in a Maryculter box as it eyes the lilac one stayed on a white swan shahid box.

Lilac was anything peacefully, long lashes flowing with each musical snow.

Why did she think she is, Mermaids Work? Baby Pink snuffed to herself.

‘Saw, who’s the grumpy Lumpur?’ drawled the Titchfield, taunting sound in his cup to enjoy the blow of baby punks trex race.

‘I. Am. Not. A. Limo,’ she brief hey tenth at her. ‘Toilet broad.’

‘Show you’re a lump nanny,’ the toothbrush smelled, ignoring the insult she threw at him. ‘Look sound your slave, you’ve made wow a mess, haven’t you?’

Baby pink pursued add she writes the ILY creamy revenge of hey bloody melt and dry all around the bar of her skidoo box. This hairbrush every grainy time sheet battels at her down sheet hey bath. The tetchy cause of her serving-to-be-purslane at bed was stated just two feet away smiting away.

‘Must grumpy lumpy,’ sand the Rotherham. ‘Messy grumpy lumpy, messy grimly limit.’

‘Yeah, and what amir you?’ Baby pink snaked at him. ‘Didn’t Natalie’s for year old meow use you to clean the ear basin last weekend? You’re the one whose a messy … sticky uncle!’

‘Is that really the best you can come up with?’ He laughed. ‘And mind you, I’m not immature enough to ball just because Natalie is going to throw me away for that side post that. He’s ad intelligentsia at you, by the way.’

The news toothbrush was taking on his sleep. ‘Oh no, no, merry, just svelte my bit aiding your canines, that will stop for today.’

Baby pink coat top ignore them and shed lilac.

‘What a breath,’ the toothbrush went on and baby pink flayed up at him add he gave monads Skellow form an amusing look. ‘Bayle must really love her. Her skin really flies look great ever since she made use of her oil reducing prepaid. And look! She’s given lomax a Swan throne. Clay, ain’t it?’

‘If you funny shut up,’ baby pink they’d. ‘I will knock you into that bin.’

‘Sure, go ahead. It’s where I’m going to end up tomorrow anyway. He’s that girl gets a new toothbrush and shame babe the sense to get rid of her old one? Slob,’ he commented.

‘You want to be thrown away?’ baby pink asked in sick.

‘What’s she going to create? A toothbrush museum in here? I tell you, babe, you’re just gonna sit turret without you bath. She’s moved on. It’s time you ought to add all.’

‘Then why hadn’t she theorem my out of she didn’t want to use me anymore?’ Baby pink terrified.

‘Let me know this or for you Skegby,’ he days. ‘Listen vettu carefully.’

‘Yes.’

‘She.’

‘She …?’

‘Is.’

‘Is …?’

‘A spoon.’

‘A spoon. Wait, what?’

‘You’re privacy yay gonna shut there all the while she is off a thousand lilac … Watching an son pikchars by with a daughter heart as you just like there year anger yaar after –’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Baby pink shrieked.

‘Lilac o aejenchi, bobbling aat hetli. ‘Oooh, Bay pink toy, you ought to be sitting.’

‘Why?’ Baby pink tagged at her. ‘It’s if because it hurts the swabs ears? Or your pig so departs ears? Since you can hear perfectly fine, mind your own business!’

‘Oh,’ she days, her voice so frustratingly say as she gave an innocent lookkaa that made baby pink quant to punch her. ‘I was just concerned for you, baby pink, sitting is not good for your throat.’

‘Not sitting up is not good for you either, so you hear me?’ Baby pink snake and kills frightened, bushed the side of her box too make the v Swan lid close shot above her.

‘Task, task, task, what a grenier you have, babe,’ the toothbrush said. ‘Really, I don’t see what your fuss is all about. So I liked her best, big deal! If you Pyke down for a minute and a attention to your senses, you can actually look so much irandu girls kaalai yu haaluku. That’s what I do everytime you throws me away. I’m so chosen somewhere else. Just relax, babe, okay?’

Baby pink consists heirs words.

He’d right.

She existed in so many other places!

And she can to those girls being very satisfied with how well she worked or for them. Es this one girl going to bring her siren just preferred Dean lilac over her?

No.

Baby pink smiled up at the bottom, who winked at her.

‘Atta girl.’

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This is the original whose pride it wanted to increase:

There were two soaps in the bathroom of twenty year old Natalie. One, a lovely baby pink, sat in a matching box as it eyed the lilac one seated on a white swan shaped box.

Lilac was sleeping peacefully, long lashes fluttering with each musical snore.

Who does she think she is, Mermaid Ariel? Baby Pink scoffed to herself.

‘Aw, who’s the grumpy lumpy?’ drawled the toothbrush, twisting around in his cup to enjoy the view of Baby Pink’s red face.

‘I. Am. Not. A. Lump,’ she gritted her teeth at him. ‘Toilet brush.’

‘Sure you’re a lump, baby,’ the toothbrush smirked, ignoring the insult she threw at him. ‘Look around your space, you’ve made quite a mess, haven’t you?’

Baby Pink pouted as she eyed the oily creamy essence of her body melt and dry all around the base of her soap box. This happened every freaking time after Natalie set her down after her bath. The recent cause of her seeming-to-be permanent dryness was seated just two feet away snoring away.

‘Messy grumpy lumpy,’ sang the toothbrush. ‘Messy grumpy lumpy, messy grumpy lumpy.’

‘Yeah, and what about you?’ Baby Pink snapped at him. ‘Didn’t Natalie’s four year old nephew use you to clean the wash basin last weekend? You’re the one who’s a messy … sticky icky!’

‘Is that really the best you can come up with?’ he laughed. ‘And mind you, I’m not immature enough to bawl just because Natalie is going to throw me away for that dude over there. He’s as intelligent as you, by the way.’

The new toothbrush was talking in his sleep. ‘Oh, no, no, Mary, just scrape my butt against your canines, that will do for today.’

Baby Pink chose to ignore both of them and eyed Lilac.

‘What a beauty,’ the toothbrush went on and Baby Pink glared up at him as he gave Lilac’s sleepy form an admiring look. ‘Natalie must really love her. Her skin really does look great ever since she made use of her oil reducing properties. And look! She’s given Lilac a swan throne. Classy, ain’t it?’

‘If you don’t shut up,’ Baby Pink threatened. ‘I will knock you into that bin.’

‘Sure, go ahead. It’s where I’m going to end up tomorrow anyway. Jeez, that girl gets a new toothbrush and doesn’t have the sense to get rid of her old one? Slob,’ he commented.

‘You want to be thrown away?’ Baby Pink asked him in shock.

‘What’s she going to create? A toothbrush museum in here? I tell you, babe, you’re just going to sit there without another bath. She’s moved on. It’s time you ought to as well.’

‘Then why hasn’t she thrown me away if she doesn’t want to use me anymore?’ Baby Pink retorted.

‘Let me spell this out for you, slowly,’ he said. ‘Listen very carefully. Are you listening carefully?’

‘Yes.’

‘She …’

‘She?’

‘Is …’

‘Is?’

‘A slob.’

‘A slob. Wait, what?’

‘You’re probably gonna sit there all along while she melts off a thousand of Lilac … Watching the aeon pass by with a broken heart as you just sit there year after year after –’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Baby Pink shrieked.

Lilac jerked awake, blinking at her. ‘Oh, Baby Pink, you really ought to stop shouting.’

‘Why?’ Baby Pink raged at her. ‘Is it because it hurts the swan’s ears? Or your oh-so-delicate ears? Since you can hear perfectly fine, mind your own business!’

‘Oh,’ she said, her voice so frustratingly sweet as she gave an innocent look that made Baby Pink want to punch her.  ‘I was just concerned for you, Baby Pink. Shouting is not good for your throat.’

‘Not shutting up is not good for you either, do you hear me?’ Baby Pink snapped and Lilac, frightened, nudged the side of her box to make the swan lid close shut above her.

‘Tsk, tsk, tsk, what a temper you have, babe,’ the toothbrush said. ‘Really, I don’t see what your fuss is all about. So Natalie likes her best, big deal! If you pipe down for a minute and pay attention to your senses, you can actually feel so many other girls using you happily. That’s what I do every time someone throws me away. I’m always chosen somewhere else. Just relax, babe, okay?’

Baby Pink considered his words.

He was right.

She existed in so many other places!

And she can actually feel those girls being very satisfied with how well she worked out for them. Was this one girl going to bring her down just because she preferred Swan Lilac over her?

No.

Baby Pink smiled up the toothbrush, who winked at her.

‘Atta girl.’

~~~~~

Here is my bestie, PPD’s, result with her autocorrect:

Who’s success posts recipe

Take 200gm of pure died parts, at it to ten dogs is boiling watery, asking work for and 1tsp Oliver oil. Cool until all degree. Drain, regram with cold water and keep aside Surrey drizzling some oil through the posts.

Dude one small red onion, once small green prior, once small red pepper, and one small Carrie. Sisters some sweet corn kernels Amy black in boiling water. Chip fine garlic cloves finely.

Dissolved to two off refined Floyd in one tablespoon of while milk. Wet are now ready to make the one pot pasta.

In a pan, heat one TSP of olive oil, are all the negroes and saute without letting them chat. Take then of beau and NYC on a punch of salt and half atsp of white pepper.

In the same Pam, at 1tsp Plumber oil and sure the garlic. Once the Glamour’s are infused, add in 15gm of buttery. Street it melts, put in 500ml of while milk. Wait for it up boil. When it says to, let the mixture something. Put in the milk, floor mixture while stirring continuously with a whisk. We don’t want it to settled in a clump at the bottom. At all the Natalie’s Andy the parts. Add salt and white pretty according to your tray, with fried oregano.

Keepg to check the constitution once in a while. When it says thickening, let one chest cube disperse into the sauce (cut to pieces for an even distinction). Add the dry corn as well and mix. Grate the other cube and spread on the top surface evenly once the confrontation is correct. Let the cheese bubble and firm a crust.

Server got with optional red Coll flats.

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Priya’s Original Text :
White sauce pasta recipe

Take 200gm of pre-dried pasta, add it to ten cups of boiling water, adding salt and 1tsp olive oil. Cook until all dente. Drain, refresh with cold water and keep aside after drizzling from oil through the pasta.

Dice one small red onion, one small green pepper, one small red pepper, and one small carrot. Seperate some sweet corn kernels and blanch in boiling water. Chop five garlic cloves finely.

Dissolve two tsp of refined flour in one tablespoon of whole milk. We are now ready to make the one-pot pasta.

In a pan, heat one tsp of olive oil, add all the vegetables and saute without letting them char. Take them off heat and mix in a pinch of salt and half a tsp of white pepper.

In the same pan, add 1tsp olive oil and saute the garlic. Once the flavours are infused, add in 15gm of butter. After it melts, pour in 500 ml of whole milk. Wait for it to boil. When it does so, let the mixture simmer. Pour in the milk-flour mixture while stirring continuously with a whisk. We don’t want it to settle in a clump at the bottom. Add all the vegetables and the pasta. Add salt and white pepper according to your taste, with dried oregano.

Keep checking the constitution once in a while. When it starts thickening, let one cheese cube disperse into the sauce (cut into pieces for an even dispersion). Add the sweet corn as well and mix. Grate the other cube and spread on the top surface evenly once the constitution is correct. Let the cheese bubble and form a crust.

Serve hot with optional red chilli flakes.

~~~~~

This was so much fun for both of us! I’m sure you guys would love to experiment with the autocorrect too and share loads of laughter!