Kavya Janani U.'s Blog, page 5

Hey, There’s Blood On Your Skirt

Note: All the names have been changed to protect privacy.

Note 2: Menstruation in India is still a taboo topic. There are numerous restrictions forced upon a menstruating woman, various rituals to be followed once a woman attains puberty, shame and embarrassment associated with period stains, and much more.

I was in the 4th grade when I turned all curious about the various sanitary napkin advertisements. I used to question my mum about the ads, to which she replied enigmatically.

But the constant answer was, ‘You’ll come to know when it is the right time.’

My curiosity reached its pinnacle and I went to the extent of rummaging for the sanitary pads inside the cupboard in our bedroom. I used to take them out, touch their surface, and wonder what it was used for. Later, I got a pamphlet from the Kotex packet. I read the pamphlet fully, but I never understood a word of it.

As time passed by, my girlfriends in school began discussing sanitary napkins. I joined their discussion and we concluded that they were used as diapers to control the flow of urine. After a few days, someone told me that blood flows along with the urine and that’s why women use those pads. Once in my music class, I told this to a senior who in turn asked me about the origin of the information. She then gently chided me to stop talking about it. Everyone around me behaved like menstruation was a top Government secret.

Sometime during the 6th grade, one of my friends, Shreenidhi, told me that she had ‘age attended’. I didn’t know what it was, but it was a popular term to refer to girls attaining puberty. It was she who explained what happens to our bodies during menstruation. She told us (my other friends and me) that blood came out of her vagina all of a sudden and her mom gave her a pad to use.

When we all went to the washroom, she showed us her pad and the blood on it. If this sounds gross to you, I can’t help it. But we never felt it to be disgusting. We were shocked that something like this was about to happen to our bodies. That new information startled us.

As soon as I entered 7th grade, I had my first period. I told my mum that I noticed blood on my panty. She then asked me to take a bath and gave me a sanitary pad. The dress which I wore then was discarded and I was given a new set of clothes. Everyone in my family told me that I should stay at home for at least a week. I was terribly upset because I had joined a new school and I had just gone for one day before my period happened.

However, I enjoyed the leave. I was given a separate room with a bed and a computer. Thank God, unlike others, I wasn’t asked to sit inside a bunch of coconut leaves spun by my uncle. My ‘age attended’ news was conveyed to all my kith and kin. Within two days, my cousins arrived and we had a gala time in the bedroom, watching movies on the computer and playing many games. Since I was a bookworm, I also read some Enid Blyton mysteries during those days.

Though my mum did not want to conduct a ‘puberty function’ for me, she still went ahead in arranging the function. The grand function took place in a nearby wedding hall. To the unknown, this is a function that is specifically conducted in South India. A woman who’s got her first period will be dressed in a grand saree with make-up and jewellery. Relatives and friends will attend the function, daub the woman’s forehead and cheeks with sandalwood paste and kumkum, and offer gifts or money.

After the function, I rested for another day and went back to school. Since it was a new experience for me, I blurted to my bench mate that I had ‘age attended’, and then the news spread like wildfire. It was embarrassing because I was told that boys should never know about this and I shouldn’t even interact with boys much. But ‘boys’ had a massive role in noticing bloodstains on my uniform. Let me tell you about those incidents.

I didn’t know that menstruation was a monthly thing. So I didn’t keep track of the date I would get my next period. After playing in the playground during P.T. class, I reached my classroom, sat down, and gulped some water. Since it was a Friday, I was wearing an inter-house shirt and a white skirt. As I got up to go to the restroom, two boys, Ahmed and Jacob, called me from the bench behind me.

‘Kavya, there’s blood on your skirt,’ said Ahmed.

‘Hey, Kavya, what happened? Is that blood?’ exclaimed Jacob.

I turned red all over. There was a super-visible stain on my white skirt. Immediately, I brought out a pad from inside my schoolbag (yes, the pad was safely ensconced in a purse) and rushed to the washroom.

Thankfully, my mum had kept one inside my bag and had told me, ‘You’ll need it next month’, but somehow her words had slipped my mind. I was careful the month after that.

Sometime after three months, I returned from the Library class. The boy sitting next to me asked, ‘Did you touch Nisha? If so, don’t touch me.’

I asked him what the matter was. He told me, ‘We boys found Whisper inside her bag. That means we shouldn’t go near her or even accidentally touch anyone who has come in contact with her.’

I asked him, ‘Why the hell did you touch her bag?’

He replied, ‘We were passing by her bag to find Lokesh’s bag and take his lunchbox out. That’s when we saw this.’

Though this conversation did not affect me that day, now I find that it was so sick. I mean, why are we considered impure when we menstruate? What has impurity got to do with a biological process? Wish I could travel back in time and give a piece of my mind to that boy.

Two years later, my English teacher noticed a patch of bloodstain on my grey skirt. It was like a wake-up call for me. From then, whenever I got my period I kept pestering my friends to check my skirt for the first two days, even though I had used a pad.

Three years later, I had an appendectomy (removal of the appendix). As a side-effect of the numerous medicines, my bleeding was heavy the month after the surgery. On the first day, I placed a pad and was getting ready to go to school. Though I felt that the flow was kinda abnormal, I still sat on grandpa’s bike and zoomed off.

When I alighted from the bike and entered my school gate, someone called me from behind. Turning back, I saw my former van driver who used to drop me off in his Maruti Omni. He was beckoning me to come near him. I walked to him with pleasantries ready in my mouth, but he cut me short, ‘There’s blood on your skirt. Please go and check.’

It was the most embarrassing moment of my life at that time. But now I feel that all these staining incidents shouldn’t embarrass us. After all, menstruation is natural and staining is an inevitable thing. Stains always happen despite our best efforts to pad ourselves the right way. The best would be just to ignore the stains; when people ask, we can tell them that we’re having our periods. If they ask us whether we aren’t embarrassed about it, we can then gently ask them to mind their own business.

I think it’s high time people stop tying menstruation to impurity, embarrassment, religion, and anything else. Let us see menstruation as a biological process and let us concentrate on menstrual hygiene instead of laughing at stains, wrapping the sanitary-napkin packets in newspapers, asking the woman to stay away from men and religious places, and celebrating her first period like it’s a phenomenal achievement, and many such outrageous things.

Let us spread awareness regarding menstruation and teach boys about what really happens during the process. Let us teach girls about menstruation beforehand, so that they aren’t alarmed during their first period. Let us not skip the chapter on menstruation during biology classes. Let us put a woman with heavy menstrual cramps at ease instead of asking her to shut up and undergo it like a pro. Let us grant menstrual leaves to women who need them.

Thank you for reading my PERIOD story. Every woman has one. You just have to set your inhibitions aside and listen to her.

This article was first published on Medium and Momspresso.

Oh, Sweet Cycling Days!

My first brush with cycling was at the tender age of 5. It was a teeny-weeny lavender tricycle that fit me so perfectly. When the clock struck five in the evening, I would haul the tricycle from the first floor of our apartments to the common playground. I would ride like a pro much to the amusement of my little friends. Unfortunately, I had to give up riding the tricycle as I turned six.

It wasn’t until I turned nine that I boarded a cycle after that. My friends in my music class insisted that I try learning to ride a bicycle. They gave me a colourful BSA Champ bicycle which had back support and two small supporting wheels. I boarded the cycle and began pedalling. One of my friends was holding the back with support so that I don’t fall. A few minutes later, she removed her hand. I could only ride a few steps before I lost balance. However, I prevented the fall. This went on for days till I mastered riding the bicycle alone. That’s when I fell in love with cycling.

My parents gifted me a BSA Ladybird when I turned ten. I used to ride in the adjoining streets of my street since I wasn’t allowed to ride on the main road. Even during those rides, I had some minor incidents which eventually led me to break up with cycling. During one such ride, I mildly hit a woman walking on the road. She turned and yelled at me, ‘Idiot! Don’t you know how to drive?’  A few weeks later, I bumped straight into a bike as I couldn’t make the right turn at the right time. I have weaved this unpleasant experience into a poem here – Who Needs This Poem?

After that mishap, I didn’t touch my cycle for another year or so. Sometime before turning twelve, my grandfather suggested that we go to a still-developing area whose roads were devoid of vehicles and learn to cycle full-fledged. I agreed to that. To this day, that one month remains the most beautiful memory of my cycling days.

The area where my grandpa took me was a huge waste ground that was cleaned and furnished with roads and plants. Only the houses remained to be built. With the evening breeze caressing my entire being, I cycled on those roads. Slowly I fell back into an amazing cycling routine. To reach that area, we had to ride through busy streets. So, my grandpa would follow me in his moped while I cycled ahead. Once we reached that area, he would park his moped and walk through the roads, while I learned the nuances of cycling. That area inspired me a lot and I came up with an idea for a novel named The Suspense Behind the Trees (yes, at the age of eleven, haha).

We also changed our practice session to a sub-main road that connected two subsequent areas. This stretch of road swarmed with vehicles but I was brave enough to cycle, with my grandpa in tow on his moped. I looked forward to those evenings. I’d learn a Tamil song by heart and then I would sing it as I cycled on that long stretch. I remember singing Manjal Veiyil from Vettaiyaadu Vilaiyaadu most of the evenings.

Once I mastered the art of cycling, my family allowed me to cycle to my music class. I took a shortcut that enabled me to pass by my friends’ houses and stop for a chit-chat. My music class was situated in a thriving residential area with many streets. This allowed me to cycle through the streets along with my friends even on the days I didn’t have music class.

My friends and I would banter as we cycled, discover new routes, and even halt at a chaat shop to gorge on panipuris. On days my friends couldn’t accompany me, I would cycle alone, letting my mind run with a frenzy of thoughts. As I reached 10th grade, I had to stop attending music classes due to the looming board exams. So, gradually I lost touch with my cycle. I cycled during my post-board holidays, though. As I entered college, I left cycling altogether.

I loved cycling so much that it formed a part of my novel With Love, Forever and my chick-lit romance novel Diya Rai. If at all I could go back in time, I would go back to those days and experience my cycling days again.

Book Review: All Those Who Wander by Kiran Manral

Book Title: All Those Who Wander

Author: Kiran Manral

Publisher: Amaryllis (an imprint of Manjul Publishing House Pvt Ltd)

Blurb: What if the past, present and future exist at once?

What if you could rewrite your past? What if you could go back and change it around? What if you could protect the child you were from the trauma you know she will have to live through? What if you were living infinite versions of the same life simultaneously?

This is the story of Ana, who is at a different age each time we meet her. But who is Ana—is she really who she says she is? A tangled tale of looped time and non-sequential lives, of guilt and repercussions, All Those Who Wander turns the classic time-travel genre into a spine-tingling gorgeousness of who, what, when, where. Wouldn’t you take that one chance to heal your inner child?

Review:

First of all, let me applaud this book’s alluring premise, which made me take it up for review. I stopped book reviews a long time ago. But now I am back reviewing this mind-bending novel that takes its readers on an ecstatic journey through space and time. I couldn’t encompass the story within one genre – there’s science fiction, horror, romance, philosophy, and thriller packed into one book. It’s a total package for someone looking for something new to read in Indian writing.

I haven’t read any of Kiran Manral’s previous works. So, I was totally mind-blown by her narration which was lyrical, flowery, empathetic, and intense. Though the core theme is science fiction as it involves a lot of time travel and futuristic scenes, there is this deep story of a woman who had a traumatic childhood and a romance that acts as a much-needed breather. Kiran adopts a non-linear narrative that you’d keep wondering how the chapters are interconnected. But it is her astounding prose that draws you in right from the first chapter.

The protagonist is Ana who is also known as Nayna and sometimes as Sue (though we can assume that she is a different person). Ana can travel through time and space involuntarily just by looking at her reflection in any mirror. She is flung into her own past and future mercilessly, while she can also travel through multiverses, meeting multiple versions of herself. She tries to change her fate by pulling out one of her versions and putting them in another universe. Is she successful? How are the other versions of her intertwined with her own life? These are some of the questions that the book might answer or might not.

The major part of the book traces the lives of Ana’s different versions in a non-linear narrative. You might be reading the end of one version’s story while another might stare right at you in the next chapter. That’s how the chapters are woven, but the transition from one setting to another is seamless. Kiran peppers the whole story with so many quotable paragraphs that if I was reading the Kindle version I’d have definitely highlighted many passages. One profound paragraph that stuck to me was –

Time was languid summer afternoons filled with mindless sucking on white and black striped boiled sweets that left the tongue a gruesome black, stealing pieces of raw mango from the sheets spread out on the terrace to dry out for pickling. Time was the summer breeze that blew in from the sea bearing microscopic motes from lives unknown across the ocean, loves and longings unknown to those who would breathe them in on this side of the water. Time was this moment and the moment running alongside it, and yet the other running towards both from the opposite side, all destined to collide with each other.

The repercussions of meddling with time are many and Ana faces the consequences of her actions. The surrealism that flows throughout the book is well-crafted. Another theme that the book focuses on is the relationship between mothers and daughters. Ana’s mother Mandira is also a well-sketched character who has so many layers to be unmasked as the story progresses. The other characters – Aman, Sukanya, Saachi, and Ana’s father also have a crucial role to play in the story. I loved the chapter where we get a glimpse of the universe in the year 3096.

On the flip side, I felt a couple metaphors were not in tandem with the context. Like, how Ana loved something like the unfertilized fetuses that flowed out of her womb every month. That metaphor didn’t sit well with me. Otherwise, I didn’t find any major flaws with the writing.

All Those Who Wander is a spellbinding novel about a time-travelling woman who has serious mental health issues due to a traumatic past. It is not only a science fiction story, but a sweeping tale about unhealed trauma, making peace with your past, and healing your inner child.

Rating: 4/5

You can buy this book on Amazon here: All Those Who Wander

This review is powered by Blogchatter Book Review Program.

The Death of 43,000 Words of My Manuscript

Originally published on Medium on Aug 2nd, 2021.

To some, this might seem like an immaterial loss. But to me, losing something into which I put my blood and sweat is a huge catastrophe. Let me tell you the story of how I lost 43,000 words of my manuscript. This is the story of the death and resurrection of my work in progress.

Conceiving the idea of my manuscript and a few hurdles

I perceived the idea for my second full-fledged novel, Bid Time a Goodbye, in late 2016. I outlined this ambitious time-travel romance and started working on it. I got married in December 2016. So the project came to a standstill, but I restarted it after a month or so. I finished writing a whopping ten chapters by mid-2017. Managing a full-time job and a household left little time for me to write. But I made proper use of my weekends.

The title of my work-in-progress (screenshot taken from the MS Word document)

I was truly happy with how the manuscript was turning out. However, I stopped it midway, because I didn’t know how to go forward with the story. So, I created a chapter-wise outline that detailed all the scenes. I am still thankful that I did this step. Without this chapter-wise outline, I’d have thrown myself into the deep abyss of insanity.

A major obstacle

I conceived my baby girl in October 2017. So I became increasingly lethargic after reaching home from work. This led me to stop writing the book. I couldn’t touch it for so many months after it. I went on medical leave for 3 months after I completed 45 days of my pregnancy. I had placenta previa and my OB-GYN advised complete bed rest.

During this leave, I took up some paid writing assignments which consumed most of my time. Also, I didn’t want to strain too much. So I was just concentrating on the assignments, reading books, watching movies, and sleeping. But my manuscript was always at the back of my mind. I had this nagging feeling that I might lose interest in the story. My determination was also dipping lower and lower, but I couldn’t help it. Sometimes I would get an occasional outburst and I’d go back to it, but all I’d do is reread the already-written chapters.

Bouncing back to writing

As luck could have it, I restarted writing it in December 2018, after my daughter completed five months. I wrote a line or two whenever I found some time to breathe. My loo breaks were marked with adding sentences to the story. I loved every bit of this phase, as it required me to put my mind, soul, body, and heart into the story for just a few minutes.

In January 2019, I rejoined work and found a new way to write my book. Referring to the chapter-wise outline, I wrote the scenes in the most recent Word document version of the manuscript, during my auto-rickshaw commute. I was at my creative best and the words just flowed out of me. I even reworked the first ten chapters, adding and deleting scenes, and rendering more depth to the characters.

Screenshot taken from the MS Word document

I backed up many versions of the manuscript in Dropbox. One fine day, I decided to declutter my Dropbox and delete all the unwanted versions of my book. I retained just one version which I downloaded to my phone and opened in the Word app. I continued writing on this version and saved it to my phone’s internal storage.

My writing came to a temporary standstill for the entire month of April. In May month, my dad gifted me a new mobile phone. However, I had to exchange my old phone. Before giving it away, I took a backup of all the photos and videos. I even sent all my writings from the Notes app to my email. Yes, you got it right.

Small mistake, huge price

I committed a simple blunder for which I paid a heavy price. The final version of my manuscript was in the internal storage of that phone. If the phone would have been with me, I’d have surely somehow gotten the document back even after the factory reset. But I gave it to the vendor and I had no way of knowing the phone’s journey. What more? I realized that I had lost my precious work only after two weeks or so.

Image Source: Pixabay

Did I send at least a previous version of my manuscript to my email? No.

Did any older versions exist in Dropbox? No.

I rummaged through all the realms of technology but in vain. I even contacted Dropbox and asked them if I can have any old documents back, but they replied that they have been purged from their server. Miserable would be an understatement to describe my feelings. I was broken beyond repair for the first few weeks.

I finally gathered the strength to check my laptop for any existing version. What I got was the first and roughest version containing the ten chapters. It was tormenting because it didn’t constitute even 5% of what I had reworked. On many nights, I cried myself to sleep. Mind you, it’s not that easy to handle the loss of hard work.

Healing and resurrection

I mustered the courage to write about this unusual death only after two years. This loss has had such a huge impact on me because it was the first time I had written something so self-satisfying.

When you feel good about something down in your guts, losing it will cause a void in your life.

Image Source: Pixabay

After six months or so, I finally bounced back from the heartbreak and began working on the rough version. Now I know the importance of backup and emailing my documents. With the help of my precious chapter-wise outline, I vigorously reworked the existing chapters. But I just couldn’t bring myself to write new chapters. Whatever be it, it was not the same as before. As months passed by, the manuscript turned stagnant with just one new chapter added to the existing ones.

From time to time, I’d think about the manuscript. In fact, I was always thinking about it. I would imagine some scenes out of the blue, but I wouldn’t be able to write them down. Since the plot is centred around time travel, I’d listen to some time-travel-related songs and keep my mind always in tow with the plot. Sometimes, I’d sit down to write, but I’d always end up adding more sentences to the previous chapters. Worse, sometimes, I’d just be staring at the synopsis and summary of the novel.

Occasionally, memories of my lost manuscript would engulf me in a flood of remorse. I’d have a hard time dislodging the lump from my throat and the heaviness from the pit of my stomach.

During the last week of May 2021, I had a sudden burst of energy. I resurrected the manuscript and began working on it with renewed vigour. Now I have completed four chapters. August is here and so is my deadline. But I can extend it to September or October. Once the first draft is ready, I will get down to self-editing and polishing it.

Screenshot taken from the MS Word document

And, yeah, I am now saving the latest version of my manuscript in OneDrive. So, it’s safe. I need not go through a trauma yet again.

#BlogchatterBlogHop – 3 Regional Romance Movies That Everyone Should Watch On This Valentine’s Day

I love good romance movies that treat both leads equally and give them as much screen space as possible. Usually, Indian romantic movies are replete with misogynistic dialogue, casual patriarchy, and problematic themes, but the scenario is changing these days. But you’ll be surprised to read that the first movie which I am recommending is something that was released in the mid-2000s.

Here I hop on to the list:

1. Unnale Unnale (2007)

When it comes to candyfloss romantic comedies, the first Tamil movie that did justice to this genre would be this. Though it has a love triangle embedded in it, the ideas presented in the movie were way ahead of their time. Some of the dialogue in the movie are still quotable.

Be it the possessive Jhansi or the carefree Karthik or the cheeky Deepika, every character had their quirks that added to the warmth of this movie. What’s more? It was Harris Jayaraj’s one of the best albums in his musical career.

If you wish to spend your Valentine’s Day watching a sweet rom-com, I’d recommend this one. It’s got all the fluff and emotions in it.

Unnale Unnale can be streamed on YouTube here (found this link with subtitles).

2. Oh My Kadavule (2020)

Giving the best-friends-to-married-couple trope a fantastical twist works in favour of this movie. The movie emphasizes the fact that we value someone’s presence only when they are away from us or when we almost lose the chance to be with them.

The quirky friendship between the leads Arjun Marimuthu and Anu Paulraj is filled with crests and troughs. Adding to the drama is the presence of another woman Meera who turns out to be Arjun’s senior crush in school. And then there is God and his Love Court. What ensues is a rollercoaster of drama that is comical as well as emotional.

This pleasant romantic comedy will make you feel good long after it has ended. It’s also got some heartwarming music by Leon James.

Oh My Kadavule is available to stream on Zee5.

3. Sita Ramam (2022)

A true-blue period romance film that is sure to leave you in tears. Sita Ramam is about a heart-melting love story between a dance teacher who holds a secret of her own and a patriotic lieutenant in the Indian Army.

Handwritten letters play a crucial role in the movie. And without Vishal Chandrasekhar’s astounding music, the movie would have ended up being soulless. All the scenes are eye candy and the chemistry between the lead pair is unmatchable. There’s also another story arc of Afreen who acts as the bridge in forming the whole picture of the main love story.

Overall, the narration of this heartrending love tale is what stands out. Watch it if you are a sucker for tear-jerkers and a believer in the concept of neverending love.

Sita Ramam is available to stream on Amazon Prime.

This post is a part of Blogchatter Blog Hop.

How I Made Time To Read and Write After Motherhood

I wrote this blog sometime in 2020. It’s already available on Momspresso and Women’s Web. So, I am just reposting it here.

“How are you finding time to write?”

“How are you able to do so many things, having a toddler and a full-time job?”

These are some of the questions that I am asked daily. While some people are in awe of what I do, the rest are just envious (come on, you can find the difference in the way they pose the questions to you).

While people belonging to the former group ask more questions about your time-management methods and even ask for tips, people in the latter group just complain about their inability to spend time on their passion.

Following our passion after motherhood is difficult, but not impossible!

As days pass by and your child grows, you can make time to follow your interests. Yes, you read that right. Amidst all your household chores or office work or both, you can always make a wee bit of time to pursue your hobbies or talents. Motherhood will never put an end to our aspirations or passion, only our mind can do that. I am not going to give you any cheat sheet that would magically enable some free time for you. I am just going to tell you about my own experience.

Before I start narrating my journey of making time to write, I should say that I have a wonderful mom who takes care of my daughter when I am off to work. Also, if I have a deadline to complete a poem or if I am nearing the release of my novel, she would willingly take care of my little one for some extra time. So, apart from this, I will tell you how I made some time for my passion.

My daughter was born in July 2018. Till August end, I just couldn’t write even a word, what with all the sleepless nights, endless sessions of breastfeeding, postpartum issues, and my baby’s colic crying. As I was wading through all these, I slowly started writing some quotes and short poems on the YourQuote app. I didn’t want to get caught in the rut of Writer’s Block. So, writing these quotes immensely helped me.

In September 2018, we (myself, my daughter, and my mom) moved to my grandparents’ house for a temporary stay. Though my daughter suffered to fall asleep, she slept better in their house. She took 2-3 hour naps in the afternoons, which enabled me to start writing a micro e-series named ‘Notes Undelivered’. Since I wasn’t allowed to do much household work, I could use that time for writing this series.

I even read books on the Kindle app, while my baby was simply beside me or while rocking her cradle. I finished the Ruby Red Trilogy mostly while rocking her. Since she wasn’t a plump baby, it was easy for me to rock in one hand and hold my mobile in the other. Also, my daughter was required to be rocked for a long time. So, I would be completely bored by the time I finish rocking her. This prompted me to start reading on my mobile.

In late December 2018, I finished writing an entire short story, while my daughter napped for 3 hours. Yes, I had to forgo a bit of my sleep to finish this story. Anyhow the story wouldn’t have let me sleep if I had tried to doze off. This story, ‘Eccentrics’ is published in the anthology ‘Schezwan Jalebi’.

The 25-minute rickshaw ride helped me complete my second book

I joined work in January 2019. From then, I formed a routine to read and write. Because having a full-time job robs you of your privileges of having time for your passion. My mode of transport helped me a lot. It still does. The 25-minute rickshaw ride to the Metro station proved a boon for me to complete half of my second book, ‘Bid Time a Goodbye’. But this book is now on hold, as I started using my rickshaw time for poetry and short stories in mid-2019.

Also, my first book, With Love, Forever, was coming out on July 31st, 2019. So, my editor sent the edited chapters for review and I was reviewing them during my commute. I could even arrange for the printing of the paperback while sitting inside the rickshaw.

Now arises the question ‘Okay, so you write in the auto-rickshaw. But what do you do in the Metro?’ I read! Those ten minutes to and from the commute added a lot to my reading life. I read almost 36 books in 2019, just while travelling in the Metro. However, 2020 was harsh on my reading life. But I finished 4-5 books after Metro services resumed in September. Those 20 minutes is the only reading time I have in my life.

In April 2020, I enjoyed just 9 days of WFH (I don’t have to do anything from home, since I work in a bank). During those nine days, I finished a short fantasy-drama series named ‘The Telephone Booth’.Of course, I participated in National Poetry Writing Month and wrote almost 45 poems that month. All thanks to my daughter’s bad sleeping pattern (which I couldn’t follow, because I had to go to work). This enabled me to sneak in some extra time for writing poetry.

Note it down, your loo time is precious, especially if you are a writer!

Otherwise, inclusive in recent days, I write poetry only in the loo or during my rickshaw commute. Note it down, your loo time is precious, especially if you are a writer. In June 2020, I finished the short story ‘The Zeroth Patient’ by taking a leave from work (because I needed some time for myself). Come July 2020, a huge thunderstorm of work pressure bogged me down (it still does and I have an intense existential crisis). This led me to stall the writing of my second novel (I have been writing it since 2016, LOL), forget about writing short stories, and write fewer and fewer poems (if given some time, I’d write 3-5 poems in a day). But somehow I managed to gather some poems and published my poetry collection, La Douleur Exquise in December 2020.

So, right now, my writing time is limited to my time in the loo, my rickshaw commute, and the time when my daughter naps on the weekends. This is how I make time to write and read.

How do you make time to write and read? What are the challenges you face daily in following your passion?

Happy New Year 2023!

It might be rather surprising for you all that I am posting after two years on this blog. Recently, I decluttered this blog and decided to revamp it. That is, I am going old school again. These many days, I have been blogging on Momspresso and my Instagram profile. Now, I am going to import all my past blog posts from them and publish them here.

And…I’ll be writing new blog articles too, whenever inspiration strikes me. I cannot promise consistency, though. Because I have a full-time job and a household to take care of. I am now the mother of a 4.5-year-old with whom I spend most of my evenings. I am writing a book which might not go into print. And I am going to rewrite my shelved manuscript Bid Time A Goodbye very soon. With so much in hand, blogging here’s gonna be stuttered.

Anyway, I am going to make use of this comeback and connect with all my readers and friends I made through this blog. This year, I have set some rules for myself. I am ashamed to call them resolutions, because if I do, then I might turn lethargic. I’d love to know about your rules or resolutions too.

Tell me in the comments below. What are your resolutions for 2023? Or…what are you looking forward to in 2023? And…Happy New Year to everyone!

Love, Kavya Janani. U

La Douleur Exquise – My Poetry Collection

Hello friends,

First of all, I’d like to apologize for letting this blog go stagnant. It wasn’t a conscious choice of mine that I stopped posting here. I forayed into writing on platforms like Momspresso and Medium, that I absolutely had no time to write anything here. I didn’t even get time to write a post about my new poetry collection! So, in this short post, I am going to introduce you to my recently released poetry collection, La Douleur Exquise.

This poetry collection is rather close to my heart, as all these poems are heartfelt. I announced this title in January and published it in December. I consider that itself as a great achievement. In short, this book contains poems on unexpressed, unrequited, and unattainable love. I felt that these forms of love should be celebrated in the form of poetry and wrote this collection. What’s more? The book also got a traditional publishing contract from Ukiyoto Publishing and the paperback version is now available. Read on to know more.

Cover:

Blurb:

“I choose to love you in silence…
For in silence I find no rejection

I choose to hold you in my dreams…
For in my dreams, you have no end.” – Rumi

We fall.

We fall for someone who doesn’t catch feelings for us. We fall when we’re not supposed to fall in love. We fall in a way we’d never be able to express it, no matter what.

Sometimes, to love someone unconditionally without expecting to be loved in return, is the most exquisite feeling in the world. It is painful, but it gives you a dose of euphoria and heals you by the end of the day. It is that kind of love, where you take the pain as a base for your personal growth.

If at all there is a love that could give you happiness alongside heart-wrenching pain, it is unrequited love.
If at all there is a love that could keep the desire for life burning in you, it is unexpressed love.
If at all there is a love that could provide you with never-ending hope, it is unattainable love.

La Douleur Exquise is a collection of poetry that celebrates unexpressed, unrequited, and unattainable love through the eyes of a woman. Just sit back and delve into the world of love where conditions don’t apply.

They never did. They never should.

If there’s something unconditional, it is love, after all…

Reviews from Goodreads:

There’s pain and raw beauty in Kavya’s words – a vulnerability so delicate, it will make you fall in love with the poems. You should definitely give this powerful collection a read. It will wrench your heart right out of your chest and leave you feeling heavy and happy at the same time. There are very few books that can toy with your feelings this way. Kavya’s book does that and more. – Anangsha Alammyan
There is a beauty in pain, and this poetry collection takes you through those lanes, reminding you about the innocence you lost on the way. Beautiful verses directly connecting you to the gone day’s emotions, or maybe for some, their present. – Neerja Joshi
Language and writing style is brilliant. Some poems are free verses that sound like thoughts of a teenager who is hopelessly in love. – Rainu Arora
Beautiful collection of poems. Dealing with themes of unrequited love, the poems were simple and gave a wide variety of feelings. Enjoyed it. – SA Krishnan
This poems are written with much longing and melancholy, the author definitely knows unrequited love. This is a beautiful collection of poems full of emotions. – Diana Wild

Link (Kindle): https://getbook.at/LaDouleurExquise
Link (Paperback): https://www.amazon.in/Douleur-Exquise-Kavya-Janani-U/dp/981149133X
Goodreads Page: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55892708-la-douleur-exquise

If you read my book, please leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads. You can also send me your views by messaging me on my social media handles or emailing me at kavyajanani55@gmail.com.

Love,
Kavya Janani. U

Bid Time A Goodbye – Prologue

Jane’s laboratory

May 13th, 2015

5.16 PM

Time is an illusion, some philosophers claim. But, Jane D’ Souza would say that it is not. In fact, she could do the only thing that no other living creature could do – manipulate Time. If she wanted Time to dance to her tunes, it would. If she wanted Time to pour some love into the unloved’s life, it would. If she wanted Time to destroy her enemies, it would. Time was her slave, and she ruled it like no one ever had. The world never knew that she, an active young scientist in India, had the power to change history and bring chaos. But, all she wanted to do was restart her life from the point she succeeded in finishing Vaqt and prevent her dear friend from going through the trouble that she had caused her.

The laboratory was just the same. Timelines may have changed, but that place was just unaffected. The place, where every mysterious event originated, stayed the same. All the secrets that it contained remained forever buried within the devices and within that one leather-bound diary that was in Anuj’s hands. A cacophony of bizarre noises from the various equipment dotted the entire place, as the two individuals, Jane D’ Souza and Anuj Vishwanath, made their way through the short labyrinth, after solving a difficult security puzzle to gain entry. 

As soon as entering the lab, Jane leaned back and rested her arms on a pristine-white table. The table lit up with different colors and provided a psychedelic tint to the lab. There were two rows of different scientific equipment. Some were whirring, while the others rested quietly at their abodes. At one corner, a robot, whom Jane had named as Drishya, was sitting still. On the table was a pen-vending machine, which was vending metallic pens of different colors. The pens were collected in a small tub, which was half-filled. These pens were no ordinary ones. They had the power to write books by themselves. Jane was making prototypes, so that she could try it with Drishya and send some pens to her seniors for trial. This was one of her minor projects, besides the major one – the making of Vaqt. 

As Jane scanned the entire lab, something near to pride danced in her eyes. She stretched her arms and legs. Her tired muscles screamed for some pampering. Traveling through time required abundant energy and she was losing it day by day. She was also apprehensive whether she would be able to relive her life as she wanted to. How could one expect to have the body of a 24-year-old with the brain of a 51-year-old? She felt suffocated, as she thought about the drawbacks that she’d have to face in the upcoming days. 2042 was ambrosia, while 2015 looked like basic nectar. When she landed here, she didn’t see herself in the mirror. She had dragged Anuj directly to the laboratory, with the diary clutched tightly in his right palm.

“Maya would have liked one of those pens,” Anuj said, looking at the pen-vending machine with admiration.

“I don’t want to give it to her. I’ve caused her enough pain. This pen will suppress her creativity and imagination,” Jane shook her head.

“Hmmm, so what are we going to do now?”

“I have no idea,” she resigned. After an uncomfortable pause, Anuj’s eyes brightened with some thought.

“Hey, what would happen to the contents of this diary, once you prevent that event from happening?” he asked.

“They’d just vanish, Anuj. Actually, I am surprised that it made it through time. I thought that when we landed here, we wouldn’t be having it with us.”

“It’s incredible, right? Okay, tell me, what should we do about it? It contains Maya’s soul and I think we must have it as a souvenir. Or, at least as a remembrance of the biggest success of Vaqt.”

“We could photocopy it, you know. Even if the writing gets vanished, the photocopies will have them forever. I think so. It’s just a theory.”

“Brilliant! I’ll do that now.”

“There’s a photocopier over there. Get to work now, meanwhile I’ll sketch our further plans.”

“Okay. And, hey, I wanted to ask you this. What about your experiments and everything? I bet you cannot redo all the experiments that happened over the course of thirty years, just by memory.”

“I have the Vector Vault for that. It’s a vault that contains all the notes of all my experiments from all the timelines that I might live. Right now, it’s just two timelines. So, all my experiments from that lost timeline are safe in that vault. And, that vault is situated somewhere beyond the space-time continuum. No one has access to it. It is not a physical vault, too.” Jane winked at him.

Anuj scratched his head. All he had in mind was, ‘How the hell am I going to put up with this nerd again?’

*****

Jane’s laboratory.

November 25th, 2015.

2.34 PM

Anuj turned and looked at Maya, his eyes zooming in on the mole on her left cheek. Her porcelain skin was tainted pink, as a result of the long walk that they had taken from the Tower Park to Jane’s laboratory. Her wavy hair bounced on either side just above her shoulder and a smile danced on her small lips. Her deep-set black eyes gleamed with anticipation. Ten minutes elapsed before he realized that she was gazing at all the devices with a look of awe on her face. The devices that she already knew by-heart. Yet she was forced to feign ignorance as a result of a child’s play with time. Though he knew that she wouldn’t touch any of the devices or machines, his heart thudded restlessly. Even Jane was not there to help him. 

Before he could tell that he was taking Maya to her laboratory, she hurried off to a meeting with her senior scientists. Maya moved towards that one dreaded device, with a look of admiration dancing on her eyes. Anuj’s heart plummeted. He didn’t want her to recognize it or touch it, in a worst case scenario. He fervently prayed to God to make a wizard jump out of one of the Harry Potter books stacked up in the bookshelf and make the device invisible from her eyes. But, she picked it up with her slender and well-manicured fingers. She flashed a smile at him and waved the device in front of his eyes.

“Hey, why are you staring at me? And why have sweat beads broken out on your forehead?” She asked him, while still clutching the device tightly. Anuj swallowed, worried that she might accidentally switch it on.

“Umm…Sorry, Maya. I didn’t mean to turn uneasy. It’s just a bad headache.”

“Oh! Shall we return? I can buy you a tablet or two from the pharmacy.”

“No, I don’t want. We have to leave now.” His reply was rather quick.

“Okay, before we leave, I just want to know what this is.” She asked, waving the device in front of his eyes once again.

‘As if you don’t know.’ He thought.

“This…is an advanced calculator.” He managed to blabber something.

“Advanced calculator? What do we do with it?” She paused, before she continued, her eyes lit up with vague recognition, “Hey, but it looks familiar. I feel I have already used this instrument.”

“Used this? How can you? It was in – invented recently. There’s no way yo – you’d have seen it.”

“Oh! Maybe I am confusing myself, but I seem to have a connection with this device. Well, you are stammering and trembling. Let me take you to a doctor.”

“Why are you caring for me, all of a sudden? Don’t do this to me, okay? After all that I have done to you, this concern seems fake. You don’t really care about me, Maya.”

“Oh, yes! I don’t really care about you. You never cared about me, when I needed you the most. You just treated me like I was a vulnerable woman.”

Anuj did a mental jig, as he had successfully deviated her interest from the device. She glowered at him and said, “Anyway, let’s forget about all that. Our relationship is a closed chapter. We don’t need to reopen it and scratch at the wounds once again. Well, I can’t seem to recognize this device.” She examined the device in her hand again and placed it back without any further ado. Anuj turned his face away and stared at the other side of the lab, where the bookshelf was situated. 

“Okay, let’s leave. Hmmm…What are you looking over there?” Maya peeped from his shoulder and looked at the bookshelf.

“That’s a beautiful bookshelf! Does it contain only scientific books?”

“Of course, only books on science, besides the Harry Potter books. Mostly books on theory of relativity.” Anuj replied casually, for he didn’t want her to prod about the bookshelf anymore. 

“Theory of relativity? I love that topic. In fact, I’d researched it when I wanted to write about time travel in my first novel.”

‘Time travel? Oh my God! I am sure this might trigger something in her. I should stop this now. Why the hell didn’t I realize that the theory of relativity was connected to time travel?’ His thoughts ran pell-mell.

“Maya, let’s leave. It’s 2.45. And I am starving.”

“Wait! I am enchanted by this bookshelf. It’s calling out to me. There’s something precious in it. I can see it in my mind.” She moved towards it.

“Maya, please don’t behave like a seer. You are a practical girl. There’s nothing in it. It’s a plain bookshelf filled with science books.”

Anuj’s voice shivered as he relayed the last line. He didn’t want her to find the diary. That leather-bound diary which contained everything. That same diary which would shatter her, if it fell into her hands.

“Wow! There’s a leather-bound black diary over here. It’s so aesthetic.” Maya carefully picked it up from the shelf. Anuj slapped his forehead.

“What happened?” Maya was taken aback at his reactions.

“Keep it back on the shelf, Maya.”

“Why? It’s beautiful. I want to see what’s written in it. And I am the same Maya who never bent herself to your dominating attitude. So, shut the fuck up!” She turned and picked up a spare cloth from the reading table, dusted the diary with it and opened it.

Maya Shivshankar

When you meddle with time, time meddles with you.

Go ahead and read my story.

“What? What is this? Why does it have my name?” She almost hollered.

“Maya, I said keep it back.”

“No, I can’t. Don’t ‘I said’ me, okay?” She moved on to the next page, her eyes still glued to the diary and her mind in a frenzy.

“I’m sorry, Maya, but I must do this.”

Anuj took Quartzin from the table. He turned the screw-down crown a few times. His last vision was that of Maya’s bewildered expression, before the surroundings revolved in a whirlpool.

 

Jane’s laboratory.

November 25th, 2015.

2.45 PM

“Maya, let’s leave. It’s 2.45. And I am starving.”

“Wait! I am enchanted by this bookshelf. It’s calling out to me. There’s something precious in it. I can see it in my mind.” She moved towards it.

“Maya, please don’t behave like a seer. You are a practical girl. There’s noth – nothing in it. It’s just a bookshelf filled with science books.”

Anuj waylaid her and hid the leather-bound diary from her view.

“Hmph! Move away. There’s something over there.”

“Nothing! And, please, my stomach is rumbling.”

“Okay, okay, cool down. Let’s go. Even I have to rush. Meeting with Nikhil. Drop me at his house. We can go to a hospital on the way. Whatever you say, I still care about you as a friend.”

“No. I am okay. Let’s go home. And thanks for the care.”  He smiled at her.

‘Thank God! I never knew I could succeed in using it after a long time. I didn’t touch it after that day in my life.’ He thought and stealthily slipped Quartzin in his pocket.

They reached the car and he opened the door for her. Then the peculiar thought struck him.

“Maya, give me a minute. I have to retrieve a diary from the bookshelf. It contains some important calculations.”

“Okay, I’ll wait. Just switch on the radio.”

He switched it on, flashed a smile at her and rushed towards the laboratory.

The diary was safely ensconced between the other books. Anuj pulled it out carefully and dusted it with the same spare cloth which was in Maya’s hands in another timeline. He opened the first page and read the lines,

Maya Shivshankar

When you meddle with time, time meddles with you.

Go ahead and read my story.

He shut it back, placed it inside his backpack and moved outside. Maya flashed a jubilant smile, unaware that she had lived many lives. Unaware that she had experienced every aspect of time. Unaware that a terrible secret of hers stayed buried in the pages of the diary. Anuj smiled back at her and got into the car.

*****

Anuj decided to read the diary once again. Though he could spell each and every word from it, the thrill of re-reading it was so intense and he couldn’t help himself. He opened the diary, read the first page again and proceeded to the next one. There began Maya’s unusual and ‘timeless’ story…..

Hey, friends!

This prologue is from the first, raw, and unedited draft of my yet-to-published second novel, Bid Time A Goodbye. Thank you for reading! Tell me your feedback in the comments.

Love,

Kavya Janani. U

 

In A Parallel Universe (poem)

In a parallel universe,

our names are written together

on the towering milky clouds.

I trace poems on the veins

at the back of your hand.

I see moons made of love

glinting in your eyes.

I kiss the oceans hidden

in the creases of your lips.

I post a picture of us

with the caption ‘my poem’.

You catch me off-guard

by planting tender kisses

at the nape of my neck.

You graze your fingers

along my spine

and draw lilies on it.

Gloom doesn’t have a home

in our fulsome hearts.

We don’t stitch love

as a secret and tantalize

each other by not placing it

within arm’s reach.

We make love on the meadow,

our bodies enveloped by the

sky’s alluring midnight blue,

not a single hindrance to bother.

In a parallel universe,

I dust the love off

from my heart

and blow it towards you,

instead of carrying it

as a forbidden love-dust,

like I do in my present universe.

 

~Kavya Janani. U

Written for Globalage Poetry’s prompt: gloom, tantalize, hindrance

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