Manali Manan Desai's Blog, page 47

Happy Republic Day to Indians

Remembering the day when I for India became I for Identity too.

Photo by Onkarphoto on Unsplash

Wishing a very Happy Republic Day to fellow Indians across the globe

Image is taken from A Rustic Mind’s Facebook page

On the occasion of the 71st Republic Day of the largest democracy in the world, ask yourself this

“Are your actions helping the nation?”

Because actions speak louder than words, always, and for everyone.

Image is taken from A Rustic Mind’s Facebook page

****

Same color dress,

a shared bench, and

common prayers in the school.

Different colored dresses,

Varied seating and

Different hymns when

Praying outside school.

Which one would you define as

The place of worship?

A Memory or Reality (A Short Story)

He woke up with a jolt. Looking around he realized he was in a bed that was quite uncomfortable. Maybe that’s what woke him up in the middle of the night. He inspected further and came to the conclusion that he might be in a hospital. The room looked quite plain and small. The bedsheet was white and so were the loose-fitting clothes he had on. If the thick and black blanket wrapped around his body didn’t confirm his conclusion, the acrid smell of medicine all around him did.

Not remembering how and when he got here, he had some water to help calm the tremors he felt all over his body. The last thing he remembered was the smiling face of a young girl about to cut her birthday cake. What a cute little thing she looked in her pink dress matched with a bow hairband and shoes with tiny bows drawn all over! He could not remember her name. Nor could he recall what relation she had with him. But he did know one thing for sure. Looking at her happy face filled his heart with contentment. So, who was this girl?

Photo by Khamkéo Vilaysing on Unsplash

It felt like he was disconnected from everything. He breathed a deep sigh and tried to go back to sleep. Another image started to form a shape as he closed his eyes. This face was familiar or at least he thought so. The beautiful young girl was smiling down sympathetically at her while saying, Dad, you need to lie down. We’ll take care of everything. Did she just refer to him as ‘dad’? When did he have a daughter?

As he started to respond to her, a little girl came running into the room and said, “Mommy! Is grandpa going to be fine? What has happened?” He looked at the little girl and smiled. She gave such a bright smile in return that he forgot all about what he meant to ask. He felt so tired and just wanted to lie down. He closed his eyes to rest awhile and felt tiny hands touch his forehead in a tenderly way. He smiled warmly, maybe I’m dreaming. But it does seem like a good life.

This time he was seated at a restaurant. He thought he was alone until he saw the girl sitting right across him. This face he knew. To say she was beautiful would have been an understatement. Her pretty face though, at the moment seemed like it was going through an array of emotions. Her eyes were welling up with tears and she said, “Oh my God! When did you plan all this?? Yes, yes, yes!! I never had a doubt about it. About us!! You fill my life and heart with so much happiness, Adi. Thank you so much” and with that, she plunged into his arms and kissed him deeply. The joy was such that he had never experienced before.

Was this real? Or was he dreaming about having such a wonderful life? Did he get married to Priya after all?

He was in the hospital. But how and when did he get here? Somebody else was there too. Actually, as he looked around, he realized that there were three people besides him in the room. One of them was dressed in a white pinafore so he guessed she must be a nurse. She had an injection in her hand which she ejected into his arm. The pain didn’t bother him as much as the confusion and the questions in his head did. He looked up at the nurse and asked, ‘Where am I? How did I get here?” The nurse just looked at him and smiled almost apologetically. She looked at the other two people in the room and said, “Well! At least he isn’t as violent as he was before. That was his last dose for the day. Don’t forget about his medicines.”

Photo by Amanda Jones on Unsplash

He looked around at the two people and noticed that they looked tired as well as worried. One was a pretty young woman and the other, a young man of about the same age as the woman. Both held each other’s hands. It seemed like they had been crying. The woman replied to the nurse saying, “Thank you for everything. We know it has been difficult for you and everyone at the hospital. But whatever little progress he is making is thanks to you all.” The nurse just smiled in acknowledgment and went out.

The woman came closer to the bed. Her eyes were red and she walked in a way that belied her smiling face. She played with his hair a little and said, “Hi dad! How are you feeling today?” He just looked at her and asked the same question again, Where am I? How did I get here? It seemed like nobody wanted to answer him as the woman burst into tears and ran from the room. What was so wrong about trying to know where he was? The man was looking at the closed door with tears in his eyes as well. He turned to him and said, “We all love you, dad. No matter what happens.” With that, he too went out of the room. What was happening? It felt like he was living somebody else’s life. Maybe I just need some sleep; he thought to himself and closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, there was Priya. Her presence was enough to make him feel better instantly. She was looking at him like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how to. He took her hands in his to make her feel better. She relaxed visibly and looked him directly in the eye. He could never stop admiring how perfectly round and brown they were! The usually full of mischief eyes seemed apprehensive today. What was wrong? She sighed and said, “Adi. I know we discussed and decided not to have a child. But….” He took her hands and his and said, “Priya, don’t worry. We can manage.” She broke into tears and hugged him like never before. Life was good indeed.

He was at the hospital, in a bed with all sorts of tubes but there was no trace of Priya. He struggled to move when a girl walked in. She looked at him affectionately and said, “You’re up early today, Dad”. He looked at her with eyes full of questions but he felt so tired. He closed his eyes and tried to remember how he came here.

Priya! The name itself was enough to make him happy. They were in a car, driving away somewhere. A sweet little voice from behind said, “Daddy! Will I get ice cream there?” He turned around to answer and everything blacked out after that.

A beautiful girl sat by his side when he opened his eyes. She held his hand with one hand and in the other one, there was a book into which she seemed very engrossed. He moved to turn over and their eyes locked. She looks so much like Priya he thought. “Hi, Dad. How are you feeling?” she asked. Even her voice seemed like Priya’s. “I’m okay. Do I know you? How did I get here?” She seemed troubled by that question but quickly smiled and answered, “I’m your daughter, Simran. You have been here for a while now. But the doctors say you’re doing great and can go home soon.” Where was home? Where is Priya?

He was sitting on a chair with Priya by his side. They were looking out at the clear blue sky. He sighed and went on to catch Priya’s hand. She smiled and said, “Thank you for such a wonderful life”. He kissed her on the forehead in response and they continued to look at the beautiful sunset together. When did this happen, he wondered. Did it actually even happen?

He was in someone’s room, lying on a bed. A young man walked in, followed by a beautiful girl and a doctor. He could tell he was a doctor because of the white coat and a suitcase he was carrying. They were discussing something. The doctor said, “Trust me. It’s best for you as well as him. He will be taken good care of and there will be others like him around to help him recover faster. You can visit him whenever you like.” The girl broke down on hearing this while the man put his arm around her shoulders. What are they talking about?

There were a bunch of old as well as young people around him. They all seemed to be waiting for him to say something. One young man asked, “Do you not remember anything about yourself?”

He tried to remember but only one name and a person came to mind. How could someone be so beautiful? He smiled and answered, “Yes, I do. I remember her. I do not remember anything else.” In all the confusions and questions, he was sure of one thing. She was a memory as well as a reality worth living by, even if it meant forever.

Note: This originally was originally published on NakedTruth.in

Broken Cloud: the first sunrise by Ray Anyasi

Book Blurb:

Prince Ikan is Heir Apparent Prince of the Kingdom of Iluji where an ancient spell cast a mighty cloud to hover in the sky of the Kingdom so that the sun does not shine on the land. To make the spell of darkness go away, kings traditionally offer slave girls in a ‘grand sacrifice’ to the gods of the land, but none had ever been successful.
By the bank of the river called the King’s Flow, Ikan meets Sarie, a slave girl on the verge of committing a grave offence but could not resist her charm and begins to nurse the idea of a secret affair. Any romantic relationship between a slave girl and a freeborn is a taboo punished by hanging the slave girl. The Prince and the slave would hope the darkness will hide them while he swears to protect her with his life.
When a prophecy comes from the priests that Ikan will be the prince to bring sunlight to Iluji, he finds himself in a deathly dilemma. He must sacrifice Sarie to the gods and accomplish the highest glory or see the darkness continue forever and the dynasty’s collapse.

Genre: Fiction/Epic Fantasy

Pages: 164

Format: Kindle eBook

Price: 221 INR/$2.99

My Ratings: 4/5

Iluji is a kingdom that has not seen sunlight in years. In a prophecy, it is declared that the Heir Apparent Prince will be the one to end these days of darkness for the kingdom. How must do this? It seems that he may have to sacrifice the one he loves the most.

An interesting romance story between people of different social standings.

What I liked about the book:
–> The description and narrative about the whole Kingdom of Iluji, Wazou, The Mighty Waters, and everything else about the setting of the story is very well done. You are drawn to the place and the people (though fictional) right away.
–> The scene between Ikam and Sarie where he laments about having less freedom than her, despite her being a slave and him being a royal.
–> The scene between the prince and the princess of Wazou, where both of them bring out very good insights about their upbringing and their thinking about the way of their worlds.
–> The friendship between Sadie and Maril.
–> The level of deceit, scheming, and politics that goes between those who hold power and prestige. ‘TRUST NO ONE’ is very much a takeaway when it comes to royals and nobles.

What I did not like about the book:
–> At many points it felt like the Otte (slaves) women were merely seen by the nobles and the royal as objects of desire.
–> The punishable sin by the King during his youth felt more like rape rather than love.
–> The gender and tenses have been mixed up at quite a few places (which I believe happens when the writing is done by a non-native English speaker)

Quotable quotes:
—> If life was a farmer’s land of fortune,
Then love is the harvest with no locust,
If life can be lived out far in Neptune,
Then love is how we did the solar hoist.
If love was a waltz, the heart calls the tune.
The pump, the race, the skip, and the mind is lost.
—> I know and he knows but what is the problem with admitting that you are troubled?
—> Things are never alright with a royal family.
—> For a baby, he loves mama and dada because mama and dada are perfect. Mama and dada can do no wrong. Mama and dada know it all. The adult knows mother and father have their flaws just like everyone else and do not know it all because no one does. Yet, he loves them all the same.
—> We are all slaves to something. Slaves to the powerful war strength of a neighbor kingdom, slaves to one taboo or the other. We are all slaves to our culture, history, and traditions.
—> We gather in a bunch of other human beings and call them slaves just so that we may feel free but it only takes our attention away from our deepest slavery. Calling ourselves the free ones actually robs us of a chance to look closer to see and deal with what is our own slavery.
—> She shut her eyes and tried to dream her way through this forbidden sweetness. She was tempted to begin to get used to it as her new life in the palace so she can enjoy it while it lasts, but she thought it wiser to regard it as a dream that will soon end. That way she can wake up anytime and still understand that she was only a lowly Otte.
—> Sarie had nothing more to say but so much to brood upon.
—> If you must be like Kuz, then you must think the way Kuz thinks. Accept the world you find yourself in and live with it. Be happy with the place fate has placed you. Stop wanting.
—> The Otts are not happy because they have it all. We are happy because we have accepted our position and realized we cannot change it and have so found a way to enjoy it.
—> We all can be happy if we choose to be.
—> “Perhaps there is no such thing as freedom.”
“Perhaps only a little of it is what the most fortunate of us can obtain.”
—> “What is that one thing you would use your freedom for if you had only one chance to exercise it?”
“I would enter a boat and travel beyond the Mighty Waters. I would go and see the sun. I would watch it rise and stay till I watch it fall.”
—> The sun was most beautiful when setting and most brutal halfway into its journey across the sky.
—> Glorious is a fair way to describe the sun. It is the most beautiful thing that can be seen.
—> That is out of the normal and anywhere outside the normal is never a safe place to be.
—> I share your concern, but I do not know how to be afraid of what I cannot change.
—> The gods are not known to enforce their own laws. They rely on us to do that for them. Those among us who are always desperate to run to the defense of the gods will not know of this. Except of course the person with whom I have chosen to share my secrets.
—> Kings do not do things to make a statement. Kings act to make an effect.
—> Being able to admit the limits of your strength will be considered to be strength in itself.
—> You cannot win against someone if you give them the impression you are in a fight. Let them think they have you on their side. Be the sheep to them till your goal is achieved. Then there is hope.
—> “Not everything has a clear explanation.”
“Until you dig deep enough,”
—> When you are the answer that must remain hidden, then you have everything to be worried about when so many people are asking the same question.
—> To do what you want is not a privilege. It is a curse. It is the curse of ordinary men. Men with no responsibilities do whatever they want. Common men with no value and self-worth do whatever they want. Men whose lives have no worthy purpose are free to do whatever they want.
—> He reckoned that running away would not bring him any real freedom and peace.
—> A lot could happen when a lot is at stake.
—> The kingdom is yours. Now you have a choice to make. Save it and rule it as a true king the first of its kind or neglect it and rule it as a slave in darkness.
—> If no one can be immune to love, why do the gods forbid it for some people?
—> Stop looking for what is gone.

Buying details:

Amazon IndiaAmazon.com

Author’s social media links:

InstagramTwitterFacebookLinkedIn

In Conversation With Dr. J. Vijaylakshmi

Rebecca West, said,

“I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat.”

The word ‘feminism’ has been talked about so much in the past few years, that everyone has come to either understand (or misunderstand) it in their own way. I, for one, am still learning its broad aspects and can never claim that I understand it fully. However, what helps me understand it a little better everyday, is the fact that I read about it regularly. One such reading led me to discover a fellow author’s book Love Beyond Love which is a poetry book with a theme around feminism and self-love.

The poems in this book made me ponder a lot about gender issues and why we need to focus on the ‘self’. Here’s my short review on it.

Read a detailed review of this book here

As always, I was curious to learn more about the creator behind this work of art, so I reached out to Dr. J Vijaylaksmi and asked her if she would like to be a guest on the #AuthorCollaborative segment on my social media. When I told her that she would need to first read my book too, she didn’t hesitate at all. Here’s what she had to say about The Art of Being Grateful and Other Stories.

Once we were done with reading and reviewing each other’s books, the session finally happened (albeit with slight delays owing to our busy schedules). So today, we had an almost hour long session talking about our writing, our love for books, and much more!

When two women who admire each other’s works get to talking, there’s no dearth of questions, but we somehow managed to squeeze our Q&A into specific questions. Here’s what I asked Dr. Vijaylakshmi.

She too had her own set of questions for me. Here’s a look at them.

Once these routine questions were done, we moved on to the fun rapid fire round. Here’s a look at my questions to Dr.Vijaylakshmi in this Q&A session.

Dr. Vijaylakshmi asked me the following questions when it was her turn to shoot some rapid fire questions at me.

Would you like to know our answers to these questions? Then check out the video below:

You can have a look at the books discussed in today’s session via the below links:

Amazon India link to Love Beyond Love Amazon.com link to Love Beyond LoveAmazon India link to The Art of Being Grateful and Other Stories Amazon.com link to The Art of Being Grateful and Other Stories

What is Love? (A Poem)

The fluttering of the heart in the beginning,

Leading to serene calmness, later on.

The meaningful conversations in the beginning,

Leading to companionable silence, later on.

The need to be your best self in the beginning,

Leading to the slow and comfortable revelations of your worst self, later on.

The need to always be with each other in the beginning,

Leading to doing somethings alone sometimes, later on.

The social gatherings with friends and family in the beginning,

Leading to ‘just us’, later on.

The ‘Let me do it for you’ in the beginning,

Leading to ‘Can you do this for me?’, later on.

A Future Without Me (A Short Story)

The day dawned the usual and would have gone on to be the same; listless and dull. She woke up to an empty bedside and an empty room. She wondered if her heart would become empty of all emotions soon too. Her existence made no difference, she felt. The same routine every day, get up and wait for another day to end. How she wished she had someone to talk to, someone who would care, someone she could cry her heart out to. But, alas, this was as bad as wishful thinking. Even a piece of furniture or a wall decoration is noticed when the time comes for cleaning or getting replaced. She didn’t have that much either.

She was a nonentity, a curse and an unwanted existence.

Becoming a widow in this country closes all windows. She had long since accepted her fate and had now even started to believe what others said. Maybe it was her bad luck that brought on his death. Why else would someone like him die? Who would wish for the death of a person who just by his name brought on smiles? The condolences had slowly stopped coming and gradually the memories would fade too and so would his entire identity. But she would remember. She would remember until her last breath. Because even in his death he had left behind a future for her. A dark one, but a future nonetheless.

Photo by Katsiaryna Endruszkiewicz on Unsplash

But, that day, the routine broke. She never knew a simple knock on the door would bring up such curiosity. Even her feet had forgotten the path as they had not ventured out since the day the news of his death came in. As she walked to answer the door, another knock came up, louder and more persistent; as if the person wanted nothing more than to see her. She wondered who would be so impatient to meet her. Nobody wanted anything to do with her, leave apart coming to her house.

As she opened the door, a long ago memory stirred up, awakening all her senses, making her happy and sad at the same time. How she used to run from the kitchen, calling out to her mother in law that she was getting the door, and with a twinkle in her eye she would throw the door and even her arms wide open to let him in.

A stranger, dressed in all black stood outside. Before she could say or ask anything he walked past her straight into the house and made himself comfortable on the rocking chair. It boiled her blood to see another man on his seat! How dare he! Who does he think he is! But she controlled it and just gave him the cold eye.

He looked around once, his eyes weren’t missing anything from the kitchen to the floor and even the ceiling. Finally, they came to rest on her and she did not like it even one bit. She was about to speak when he said, “Namaste, bhabhiji. I am Mohan, Kishore’s friend. I am sure he might have told you about me”. Oh! So this is Mohan. She knew him quite well, thanks to Kishore’s endless rant and anecdotes about his and Mohan’s days together. They had been school friends and had even worked together for a while before Mohan moved to the city. She remembered Kishore telling her that Mohan was working with some big company now. But, why was he here today? What did he want? These questions ran through her mind as he continued, “Bhabhiji, I have come all this way and you are not even offering water. Kishore would not have appreciated it.”

So he knows about his death, she guessed. Sighing, she walked to the kitchen and filled up water in a glass all the while thinking about why Mohan was here and praying he would leave soon. It would only add to her ill repute if he stayed more. She put the glass on the table next to him and stood away from him. He drank it all in one go and started to take out some papers from a briefcase. She kept looking at the door to make sure nobody passed by or saw what was going on inside the house. Her attention diverted when he said, “Bhabhiji, I know how tough it is for you. The villagers and even your in-laws must be giving you a hard time. I’m sure they even hold you responsible for what happened. But I have something that might help you in these bad times.”

Tears had already started welling up in her eyes as he continued, “Kishore and I were more than just friends. We were like brothers and even after I moved, we stayed in touch. I know how happy you made him. He constantly worried about what would happen if someday something like this would happen. That’s why he trusted me with these.” He handed her some papers but it just confused her more.

He chuckled and went on to explain, “Sorry, my mistake. Bhabhiji, these are property papers. Of this house as well as the land that Kishore owned. He has left it all to you. Also, he has given me strict instructions as to what, how and how much needs to be done.” She looked at him with even more questions in her eyes.

Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash

So, he went on to, “Nobody and I mean no one; neither his brothers and sisters nor anyone from his extended family can claim any of this property without your written consent. That written consent too cannot go forward without my supervision and guidance. He has told me to make available at least twenty workers, all females, to help you with the agriculture and well care of the fields. If these are not enough, I am to provide more money, manpower and whatever you require and provide it to you without question.”

She was speechless by this time and could only ask, “But I don’t have any money!” to which he replied with a twinkle in his eye, “Bhabhiji, what do you think he was toiling away so many years and leaving you alone so many hours of the day? He was well aware of what would happen if he passed away. He has left behind enough money so that you don’t have to worry for at least 10 more years. By then, I’m pretty sure you will earn enough through these fields yourself.”

She was still trying to digest all this when he said, “Don’t worry about how you will manage. I have already hired enough labourers to help you.” With that, he went out and motioned to her to follow. As she gazed outside, she saw at least 20 women working in the field across the house. He looked behind to see if she was watching and smiled warmly as he saw some hope in her eyes.

He remembered the last words Kishore had said to him, “Yaar! If I die before Suhasini, I don’t want her to live the life my mother was forced into. That’s why I trust you to take care of everything. Also, I want you to make sure each woman gets what she deserves so hire only widowed women to help her. Their futures will become hopeful too. And even Suhasini will have people around whom she can relate to.”

That day, he saw a better tomorrow, for the nation, for the women of the country. Today, she felt glad he was helping create that better tomorrow.

As Suhasini looked on, she realised how lucky she was. Even in his death, Kishore was looking after her. She had been right, he had left behind a future for her indeed. But not a dark one! Things were about to change for her, as well as for the women folk of the country, even if it was bit by bit or in this case, crop by crop.

Photo by Amanda Frank on Unsplash

Note: This story was originally published on Naked Truth

The Grandmaster & Other Short Stories by Chinmaya Desai

Book blurb:

Never judge a book by its cover…you will be surprised by what lies within!

A Chess Grandmaster is accused of losing a World Championship game intentionally… A middle-class sexagenarian from Nagpur receives a surprise visit from an old friend… A lady will go to any extent to get an ingredient for her recipe… A Mayan explorer in 498 AD encounters a storm and drifts to ancient India… A Brigadier plans to surprise a civilian with a war memento… A politician wants to save the beautiful Seria Valley from an unscrupulous builder… A jet-setting banker gets into a verbal duel with a woman during a plane journey…

Debutant author Chinmaya Desai delves into the lives of “ordinary” people and answers some extraordinary questions. Through his lucid and captivating writing, he brings to the fore how there is always something more than what meets the eye.

The Grandmaster & other short stories is a selection of fictional tales that provide a glimpse of life’s different facets and oddities. It is these experiences that make our journey interesting, colourful and ends where you least expected it to.  Explore these fast-paced tales, with a twist that will keep you turning pages till you reach the end…

Genre: Fiction/Short Stories

Pages: 134

Format: Kindle eBook/Paperback

My Ratings: 4.7/5

Based on the tiny details of day-to-day situations and human relationships, the stories in this book range from Ancient History to British Era and from the post-British Era to the current modern Indian scenario. In short, the book has a taste of everything.

Stories exploring various facets of human life.

What I liked about the book:
–> The beautiful/funny/insightful thoughts added at the end of each story.
–> The witty wordplay on most of the titles (Who Let the Dogs Out, The Hounds of Bhaskar Villas, G Male, Robin Could)
–>The plot of each story is unique and intriguing, with a moral/message and a twist in the end.
–> The stories where the author himself appears and weaves a tale from conversations he has had with co-travelers or acquaintances.
–> The historical fiction added to some of the stories (especially The Mathematician)
–> The witty one-liners in the narrative and in the form of dialogues between the characters.

What I did not like about the book:
–> The author appeared to be a bit arrogant in two of the stories (The Woman in The Yellow Saree and Strollmaster)
–>The grammatical errors and switching of tenses.
–>Some of the twists at the end which supposedly are the highlight didn’t make sense or were very much predictable, and hence the story fell flat in such cases.

Quotable quotes:
—> Weekends are like orgasms; you take a long time to get there and eventually when you do, they are over too soon!
—> There is never enough time to do nothing.
—> For mere mortals like me, the sagely word for a great weekend is dissociation – a complete severance and detachment over what has happened in the past week.
—> Switching off your phone isn’t that bad. Time goes “on”.
—> If your friend checks in on Facebook to the latest do, with a status “having a gala time”, he/ she is not necessarily telling the truth.
—> He likened chess to an organization, the eight pawns or soldiers like factory workers – toiling day and night; the two bishops or camels like the sales force, crisscrossing the country to hard-sell products; the two rooks or elephants like audit, accounting, and finance – moving only straight, but firm in their dealing; the knights or horses like innovators – jumping two and a half steps at a time with new ideas; the king like a Chairman – slow, steady and surefooted and finally, the queen like the CEO – aggressive, but in control of each and every one!
—> The pomp and celebration that followed the idols often bordered on hooliganism and the vulgar dancing would make Bollywood item numbers feel like a performance by the church choir.
—> “There is a problem with this generation,” the professor thought with despair. “No sense of duty, no sense of obligation. All they care about are friends and parties. Things that are taboo to society, like drinking and smoking, have now become fashionable. They eat out with naked abandon; they hug friends of the other gender even after they are married and they dress highlighting skin rather than a cloth. They don’t want to sow the seeds but only eat the fruit. This country educates them, nurtures them, and not unlike flamingoes, they migrate for greener pastures.”
—> People often talk about the younger generation as if they didn’t have anything to do with it.
—> Two hounds (one male, the other female) – named Krishna and Kaveri (Ekta Kapoor and Rakesh Roshan would have leapt with joy hearing the name) – were purchased to guard over the gates.
—> Yes, meditation and beer both help you achieve the “higher” state of consciousness.
—> He had heard, from traders, the legend of a mad Greek Pythagoras who had prophesied 350 years ago that you can reach a place faster diagonally than going straight. The Indians had actually implemented it.
—> Had he known about Queen Kaikeyi, he would have realized that Indians knew politics 3500 years ago.
—> “Husband’s Guilt” is my self-concocted theorem calling out a singular emotion where the husband feels guilty for his wife for the privileges he gets for being the sole bread earner of the family or the highest-earning member of the family by a large margin. He, then, usually atones for this guilt by buying his wife presents. Romantics call this love; shrinks…oops! Psycho-analysts say it is but another manifestation of the male ego trying to tell his wife that he is “one up”. Everything said; all agree, it exists!
—> Cinema seems to shrug recession the way a tennis player shrugs that little droplet of sweat from his forehead. Even recession doesn’t stop people going for a movie.
—> Mother’s Love Transcends All Boundaries. Even God.
—> As per international laws, the originator of a story or an idea is always the owner; however, that has not been the case in practicality. “Ideas” are the most common stolen commodity in the world today, more than bicycles, shoes, cash and cellular phones combined. However only 2% are reported because – 40% cases where ideas are stolen by powerful organizations, influential individuals or close friends or family. – 20% cases where the victim realizes quite late, by which time the idea has grown and matured. – 40% cases where victims aren’t even aware that their ideas have been stolen. So next time you have an idea – use it, publish it, share it, but also protect it!
—> I wrote several letters to my sweetheart. I forgot to sign them. She has now married the postman.
—> There is little or nothing common between someone and his/her best friend and it is the uncommonness that binds and keeps the friendship alive.
—> “Agar Admi life me galat kaam karega to kahin na kahin se uski bajegi.”
– Told to me 10 years ago by a friend
in a philosophical bar-room
the conversation after three pegs
—> Writers have to feel. They need not necessarily know a subject.
—> There was once a man. Let’s call him MC. MC for male chauvinist, not what you thought about.
—> If in your mind you have any ideas of superiority,
blot them out. You have none!
– Anonymous
In most of history, anonymous were mostly women.
– Virginia Woolf (American Author)

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it happens: Stories of Human Relationships by Bhaswar Mukherjee

Book Blurb:

What is it that can be your strength, your weakness, your nemesis, or your identity? 
Relationships.
It Happens―Stories of Human Relationships is a collection about people and their
interactions that define the world we live in, either themselves or in the manner they
influence us.
These stories will make you live the characters and experience their relationships.
You can almost reach out and touch someone familiar, remember a similar guilt or a
deep sigh, a know-it-all smirk or a wide smile.  
So, go ahead, immerse yourself, and let your emotions go on a roller-coaster ride.
And prepare to get surprised.

Genre: Fiction/Short Stories

Pages: 140

Format: Kindle eBook/Paperback

Price:

Kindle eBook: 206.50 INR/$5.99Paperback: 291.25 INR/$13.73

My Ratings: 4.8/5

Fifteen beautiful short stories that talk about different aspects of human relationships and the intricate emotions entangled in them.

Stories about life and its simple, yet complicated, truths.

What I liked about the book:
–> Loved how each story is very different from the other having an out-of-the-blue turn in the end, adding a sense of complete wonder towards the climax.
–>How each story resonates around karma and past life deeds that come to bite you later in life.
–>Each of these stories holds up a mirror to society and our take as a society on many current events. Through these stories, the author has put in pertinent comments which make us reflect on many things, small and big.
–> The flavor lent by the author on matters of religion, terrorism, and communal hatred, via these stories.
–> The characters/protagonists of each story become true heroes through their decisions and actions, which reaffirms our faith in the self and also makes us believe in the innate ability of the human race to overcome adversity.

What I did not like about the book:
–> The coincidences felt a bit much (and sort of predictable) in some stories
–> Some stories leave you hanging and also felt unfinished.

Quotable quotes:
—> If the educated harbour notions of hatred and religion, what will become of our secular country?
—> When there’s a crisis, society shuns you. It’s the bond of your family that keeps you together.
—> Life metes out justice sometimes bigger than the courts.
—> Despite the regimented monthly mock drills, human behaviour in a situation of real fear is rarely orderly.
—> Insurgency and cruelty is not the solution. It only decimates a nation’s capabilities. If you cannot create, do not destroy.
—> And you must encourage your women to blossom and contribute to the mainstream. How can a nation progress with one leg tied?
—> It was important to be at peace with oneself.
—> Life is an exam where the syllabus is unknown and question papers are not set. We can’t control the questions that this exam throws at us. What we can control are our responses to them.
—> We need to choose the correct responses in life.
—> It requires a tranquil mind and one who is at peace with oneself to embrace the unknown.
—> We do need friends in the winter of our lives, else the journey becomes difficult.
—> Love can transcend the greatest of hurdles.
—> As did many young couples, they realised painfully that differences surface when you start living together.
—> Every relationship does not need a destination, if the journey is wonderful enough.
—> You can only do what you think is right, not what others think you should do.
—> There is nothing healthy about flirting, Sanjay, not for a married man. Healthy flirting is a term introduced by perverted men who want to lend legitimacy to their extramarital dalliances. Flirting invariably has a sexual connotation to it.
—> Some relationships do have an expiry date, either by design or fate.
—> As an HR manager you should know that listening is ninety percent of what communication is all about.
—> Nowhere else in the world does the preparation for a four-year undergraduate programme require a time of over six years.
—> The fear of failure multiplies many-fold when everyone is watching.
—> Nowadays, technology has made a metric of everything!
—> It’s better to have tried and failed rather than not having tried at all.
—> The harder you fall, the quicker you rise.
—> We may have moved from the villages to cities and towns, yet our heinous personal law hasn’t budged an inch.
—> Perhaps my being fatalistic gave me the strength to carry on. Maybe failed love does that at times.
—> At some point of time we must stop living our life according to what others expect from us.
—> You can’t plan your whole life in advance. Plan as we may, we’ll get hit by many curve balls.
—> The orthodox relationship between man and woman is beset with many ills and has stopped being perfect for too long. That’s why other relationships are jostling for their rightful place and acceptance in this world. It’s time we welcomed relationships defined by shades of grey, with open arms.
—> This world is relentless. They refuse to recognise inner beauty if it does not conform to their notion of aesthetics. Just as they are blind to inner sickness.
—> In the current state of politics, the communal and the religion cards are the only two in play now.

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Song of a solo man – Poems for every man by Amit Verma

Book blurb:

A COLLECTION OF ILLUSTRATED POEMS IN FREE PROSE; REFLECTING INNER WORKINGS OF UNIVERSE OF A MARRIED HUSBAND AND WIFE.

PREFACE – Two friends sit in a bar. Both are married. They are confused about life of a modern men. As they count their miseries and pains; it turns out to be a very difficult task. As one of them who is struggling writer; creates a catalogue of pain a modern man feels; their friendship stands jittery.
Discover what a modern man may complain; if by chance his wife asks about his pains.
A collection of around 45 poems to discover how a gentle man deals with complexities of his life and sometimes of his wife.
Poems are in free prose and are accompanied with many line illustrations.

Genre: Fiction/Poetry

Pages: 87

Format: Kindle eBook

Price: 60 INR/$0.99

My Ratings: 3.5/5

We may have often wondered that so much is written about women, why isn’t there something about what men think and go through? Here’s a book that provides this answer in the form of poems.

Poems about the unheard and misunderstood man of the society.

What I liked about the book:
–> The concept in itself which focuses on the much-neglected gender in recent times.
–> Each poem talks about what a man goes through, providing us (women precisely) insight into a man’s mind and thoughts.
–> The very raw sketches alongside most of the poems. These added a charm of their own.
–> The book would connect easily to those who carry a heaviness in their heart or are not able to voice out their words.
–> A short read which can be completed in one go within an hour max.

What I did not like about the book:
–> I wish the poems didn’t focus only on the husband-wife relationship. Maybe son-mother, brother-sister, father-son, friend, etc would’ve added more depth to the collection.
–> The improper (or complete lack thereof ) use of articles and prepositions.

Quotable quotes:
—> every time I am on the brink of
writing next line;
old line with your name
pulls me back
into the past.
—> I don’t mind
if you neglect my grave
or forget my name.
It is ok to
see for yourself
the power of moving on
and healing with time.
But to spare me
real death;
visit my memories
if you forget my grave.
—> Your mood today
seems stormy.
I am not weather man
but I work
it out everytime;
—> My anger
is like a bubble
It pops out somewhere
round the corner.
But your anger is like a river;
which keeps pouring
over me throughout
the winter night.
—>When she doesn’t stop even after winning…, When you become you…, When you miss your dad…, When she has a fight with mom…, When she feels less beautiful…
—> All the stories are same
It is very difficult to write
about a successful man;
without a woman
behind – working selflessly.
—> To enter somebody’s soul
and then seeping out slowly,
is similar to an act of
crushing a beetle under your feet.
—> The biggest complaint that
I have against you;
is that it is not
ethical or legal the way you
disarm me of all my powers;
with a gentle smile.
—> You cannot stare
into the eyes of life but you can
stare easily Into mine and
make it all
normal again.
—> Once there was a wise man. He decided to decipher code of hapiness. He wandered throughout the world. But he found no solace. Finally he wandered inside himself. He found everything. Stay happy and live in present. It will make everything about this world bearable.

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Tongue-in-Cheek: The Funny Side of Life by Khyrunnisa A.

Book blurb:

A fun collection of short articles that deals with everyday experiences in a humorous fashion, Tongue-in-Cheek has something for every reader. Each piece offers an entertaining inside account of the experiences and misadventures of an urban woman. These easily relatable pieces on day-to-day encounters are a quick pick-me-up to drive stress away and look at the world with a chuckle. A light and easy read, the book encourages readers to laugh along. Khyrunnisas unique take on things and her humorous observations make for a delightfully light-hearted read, which would resonate with readers.

Genre: Nonfictional/Anecdotal Humor

Pages: 196

Format: Kindle eBook/Paperback

Price:

Kindle eBook: 194.75 INR/$3.99Paperback:205 INR/$ 12.95

My Ratings: 4.7/5

This is a series of delightful anecdotes from the daily life of the author. From making sandwiches, to finding a parking spot, and from growing organic vegetables at home to visiting the dentist, each incident will either leave you in splits or chuckling.

A humorous look at everyday incidents.

What I liked about the book:
–> Reading the book makes you feel nostalgic for a slower, simpler life and enjoying the little things in life.
–> The funny styles, puns, and non-stop commentary on decently simple things in life, makes this book highly relatable, especially for the Indian readers.
–>With just a few words, the author has skillfully written about a number of quirky characters who flit in and out of the many anecdotes and leave you charmed with their many quirks.

What I did not like about the book:
–> Unlike most books I’ve read recently this book is not a one-sitting read which can be finished in a day or two. You’ll need time to really appreciate the content and each incident.
–> Some anecdotes seemed repetitive in their topics.

Quotable quotes:
—> The fridge isn’t just a necessity but a store house of culinary relicts, and a pressure cooker doesn’t merely cook; it sometimes exhibits unique skills and moves off the stove to perform an impressive dance. Heating food in the microwave could well result in the manufacture of military arsenal, having fish in a tank can lead to solving an unusual murder mystery and cutting vegetables for a salad could be a lesson in beauty treatment!
—> Auto drivers are actually philosophers in disguise, neighbours stun you with their architectural expertise, waiters speak volumes through the language of silence and gas delivery men wear a cloak of invisibility.
—> Certain menu cards make delightful mistakes and offer you very diverting fare. I remember coming across ‘sweat’ cakes under the heading ‘Evening Snakes’ which made me very curious about morning snakes.
—> It is a truth universally acknowledged that if a rubber band has to break, it will, and conversely, if it doesn’t wish to, it won’t.
—> Sometimes when you cook under time constraints, the food turns out tastier.
—> the problem with eggs is that they are fragile. They break easily. They haven’t been taught manners, they crack without a warning. They don’t know that self-respecting eggs ought not to cave in to outside force without fighting back. Bringing eggs home without breaking any, was a cause for celebration. And celebration was always in the form of breaking an egg for an omelette.
—> Call it sadistic pleasure, ignorance or sheer carelessness, some assistants love to deposit delicate food items like bread, plantains and eggs right at the bottom.
—> He doesn’t know I’m actually a hopeful cook; I keep hoping my cooking gets better or the taste buds of those on whom I experiment get worse.
—> The bride, the groom and the ceremony are mere trappings; the feast is the thing. The wedding feast is a great leveller. Class, caste and gender distinctions are ignored while good manners are thrown to the winds in this mad rush to sit reverentially before the banana leaf. These days it’s not just feasting that is important, but telling the whole world you have feasted.
—> If you chance to glance at the stage as you leave with a satisfied burp, you might find the bride and groom in a corner looking lost, waiting patiently to be led to the dining hall.
—> INVITATIONS TO WEDDINGS start trickling in once the mating season, I mean the wedding season, sets in.
—> My husband greets any reminder of a wedding to attend with a heartfelt groan that speaks volumes. I know he’s already agonising over where to park the car. He’s not being paranoid—parking is not easy even on a normal day, and when a big fat wedding is on, it is next to impossible.
—> I’ve never heard women drivers complain about it. ‘That’s because they park just about anywhere,’ my husband retorts. ‘And get away with it too.’ I don’t respond to this gender biased remark; there is some truth in it.
—> It is every vegetarian’s mission in life to convert non-vegetarians to their ilk.
—> For some odd reason, I link the word flab with blub or blubber and by association, the robust whale.
—> My first concern was what to wear—a woman’s eternal problem.
—> You’ve got to spend more time on your feet than in your seat.
—> Interestingly, it is believed that women live longer than men because the housework they do keeps them on their feet. Alas, in their fight for equal rights, they are squandering this vital advantage over men; their desk jobs are making them as vulnerable as men to lifestyle diseases.
—> The digital stage has been keeping time to the tune of, ‘here an app, there an app, everywhere an app app…’The smartphone is an ’appening place with apps for every need and for every age—babysitting, education, news, travel, self-help, shopping, sports, games, movies, cookery, fitness… you name it, they have it.
—> Whatever people might say about Aadhaar, there is no denying that its photos have provided much merriment throughout the country. There is no photoshopping here, only photoshocking.
—> ‘YOU HAVE ROTATOR cuff tear. It could be rotator cuff tendinitis.’
That sounded imposing. I never knew I had a cuff in me that could rotate, tear or ‘tendinite’. I’ve always associated cuffs with sleeves, so what’s a cuff doing inside me, and rotating at that?
—> A doctor friend had once remarked bitterly that the internet is the bane of doctors. Patients no longer come for consultations. They have diagnosed what is wrong, know the treatment and presumptuously tell the doctor what medicines to prescribe.
—> That’s the charm of a lady’s handbag. Its innumerable compartments have been cleverly crafted to convert every simple search into a complicated detective game. The puzzle regarding which section would yield the desired article is solved, like any good mystery, only when the intensive search is complete. Inevitably it is discovered in the last pouch examined. No woman can complain of boredom as long as she owns such a bag.
—> Mobile phones—reading or sending messages, watching videos or checking out the innumerable options a smart phone provides—it is a single-instrument entertainer.
—> WHICH HOMEMAKER WILL not go into rhapsodies at the mention of a pressure cooker? This excellent labour-, time- and fuel-saving device that is the kitchen god’s gift to harried cooks is a most handy possession.
—> Indians believe in cooking for a battalion at the slightest opportunity.
—> The refrigerator taught us magic—how to stretch a single meal over many days. It gave us many practical lessons in physics, chemistry and biology. Solids would change into liquids and then to gas. The process of fermentation became clear especially when gravitation took the fermented batter through two shelves to the vegetable compartment, cleaning which taught me how long it takes for mutated life forms to invade vegetables in cold environs. It gave us geography lessons too. It had its own frigid zone—the freezer looked like a piece of Antarctica, the icy peaks left no space for any foreign matter. It honed our carpentry skills; we had to chip off the ice in the freezer.
—> MY HUSBAND AND I often have these highly intellectual debates that range from whether it is safer to clean your ears with a toothpick or with a hairpin, or if it is necessary to wash one’s hands before eating when you’re going to do that after your meal anyway, to whether loudspeakers are louder during political campaigns than during religious festivals or if a microwave oven is more useful than a fridge.
—> I LIKE DOGS… from a distance. The greater the distance, the more amicably disposed I am towards them. I have nothing against dogs, man’s best friends and all that, but I wish they’d leave me alone.
—> I’ve noticed dog owners are baffled that the whole world doesn’t love their dogs with a fervour equalling their own.
—> Such is the sanctity of a handkerchief when used to indicate a ‘booked’ seat that no one dared pick it up or shove it aside.
—> I HEARD SOMEONE observe the other day that men have drive but no direction. I would like to alter that to ‘men can drive but won’t ask for directions.’ This is strictly based on home experience, but my friends assure me their spouses are no different.
—> IN MY HOUSE, a simple task like looking for a newspaper becomes a job that could stump MI6.
—> One gets to read newspapers in a variety of unconventional ways. Who hasn’t come across juicy tidbits in newspapers wrapped around their roadside purchases? Or sensational news items in paper cones that they buy from peanut sellers?
—> My husband is a physisaphile. In case the word is Greek to you, it is…er… Greek for one who loves plants and animals.
—> THE GOLDEN RULE when you step into a shop, especially one that sells cosmetics, is to know exactly what you want. The modus operandi, then, is simple. You ask for the item, give it a quick once-over, pay the bill, grab the packet and get the hell out of the place. Hesitate a little, and you are done for.
—> ‘My hair is wavy, not curly.’ I like to get these things straight.
—> A woman can often get away with things by citing her husband’s disapproval, but it doesn’t work the other way around.
—> If the pen is mightier than the sword, then a free pen is not to be sneezed at.
—> My house is cluttered with useless things either got free or bought at bargain sales.
—> Don’t autocorrect and its older companion spell check delight in making fools of us all? When a friend tried to use his cousin’s name, ‘Mrinal’, in a mail, spell check claimed to know better and insisted it had better be ‘urinal’. An ‘erratic schedule’ was excitingly altered to an ‘erotic schedule’ and a happy marriage ran into rough weather when a woman’s birthday wishes for her ‘dear’ husband became ghoulish wishes for her ‘dead’ husband.
—> WHEN RAINS FORCE you to stay indoors for long hours, you resort to board games, or are they bored games? No game tries your patience like Scrabble.
—> In Scrabble you have to reckon with more than one opponent, each with their special quirk. I am yet to find a quiet, quick player who is satisfied with the tiles they have drawn.
—> I spend so much time in front of the open fridge, kitchen cupboards, almirahs, book shelves and drawers trying to remember what I’d come for, that I’m sure if I timed myself, I would be a prime contender for the Guinness Maximum Time Spent In Front Of Cupboards Wondering Why You Were Standing There Scratching Your Head record.
—> I don’t know how many men receive compliments when they wear nice shirts but when a woman wears a pretty saree, it is imperative to praise her impeccable taste.

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