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Flash Fiction: I am in love

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500-word flash fiction for the platform Arttons Inn.

(Prompt: Choose one word or phrase that has been borrowed into English from any other language and write a 500-word story making sure the word/phrase is either the basis of your tale or plays a major role in the story.)

I am in love

 

The gentle breeze ricocheting the snow-clad Himalayas patted my cheeks tossing my unruly mane out of control. I would have been lost in chilling oblivion if not for this gorgeous woman admiring the opulent nature like there was no tomorrow. Her bright orbs unabashed and brimming with anticipation squinted as she turned towards me and even as the sunlight climbed the lush my heart skipped a beat. Her loosely held bun at the nape of her delicate neck urged me to grip it and drag her towards me…

I gently took her delicate palm in my calloused ones and as if by a quirk of fate she smiled, the dimple on her cheek so deep that I wished to drown in its profundity. I was so fortunate… she had agreed to meet me…

“Aa…aa…arti… I… I …” I stuttered, looking away as my speech impediment reared its ugly head. I half expected her to go away, but her grip tightened. The surroundings paved the way for her garrulous articulacy and I wanted the time to freeze, to feel her velvety voice that drowned my sorrows.

It was the absolute koi no yokan… that instinctive sensation coursing through my body, that I was meant to fall in love. But no one desired me… even the ugly duckling in my neighboring home looked down upon me, ridiculed me, and resorted to name-calling. I had no friends and Arti was that breath of fresh air, the perfect elixir for my wounded soul.

Looking up at the stretch of azure sky, I thanked the Almighty. I remembered the jibes thrown at me for my disability and mannerisms.

‘You are vain Amrit… a disgrace to our family…’ Papaji always said.

I snickered and lifted my hand to push back a tendril of hair that had escaped the confines of her bun. Her eyes widened and the beginnings of a shy smile escaped her lips. The vision almost enflamed me and I didn’t mind getting burned to ashes. The subtle crimson blush adorning her cheeks, the perfect angular jaw identical to mine, and the breathtaking lyricism in her words left me wonderstruck.

Look Papaji, Your Amrit is beyond misery and my ultimate quest for happiness ends here.’ I chuckled silently. Papaji can finally rest in peace.

Arti caressed my cheek, her soft palm making a deep imprint on my soul.

“Amrit, thank you for liberating me,” Arti whispered.

I shook … no… someone shook me… NO… NO…NO…

I heard a gruff familiar voice. “Amrit… stop fidgeting. Sister, ward boy, hold her limbs please, she missed her injection today…”

“Doctor, what’s her condition?” Another woman spoke.

“Amrit Kaur was reticent and when they got to know about her sexual orientation the family disowned her. She began to dissociate* and one day in a fit of rage, killed her father.” Did I kill Papaji?  The lady continued, “…and probably met her concocted alter ego…”

Her voice faded, as darkness engulfed me.

Arti was real.

Koi no yokan….

 

 

Author note:

Koi Na Yokan:  (Japanese) The feeling that the first time you meet someone you will fall in love. Premonition of love

*Dissociative identity disorder: Dissociative identity disorder is characterised by the presence of two or more distinct personality identities. Each may have a unique name, personal history, and characteristics.

Book Review: Amrita and Victor

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Author: Ashwini Bhatnagar

In a single phrase, if I have to describe the book, it’s, ‘a sheer piece of literary brilliance!

The story is a biographical memoir of an artist par excellence, Amrita Sher-Gil. Most of her artwork is iconic and reeks of individualistic perception of the world around her especially India. Amrita loved color, and that’s evident in how the splashes on her canvas took their own form. Despite being unconventional in all her ways, Amrita soon emerged as the most celebrated painter of her time.

What attracts the reader further is the megalomaniac-like personality traits Amrita exhibits. She was a rebel with a larger-than-life personality. Not just with her art but also in her personal life. She didn’t believe in fidelity. Her colourful escapades with both men and experimentation with women have been interspersed throughout the story. Such was her persona that even the then-Indian Congress head Jawaharlal Nehru was left bedazzled.

She was in a relationship with her first cousin Victor and eventually married him despite parental and social opposition, given the blood relationship. Her death under mysterious circumstances remains unresolved to date. Whether it was a botched termination of pregnancy or whether she was intervened late because of Victor, a doctor himself, who dragged his heels instead of seeking another opinion before it was too late, the mystery remains…

The obituary given by Nehru and Sarojini Naidu upon her passing throws light on the kind of impact Amrita had on everyone around her. Her flamboyance was addictive, be it art or person. Her careless approach to pertinent aspects of life may be attributed to her conflicted upbringing in a mixed-racial household. Nonetheless, she was a beauty who stuck to her convictions till her last breath.

The author has brought together an amalgamation of well-researched viewpoints from those close to Amrita. His language is par excellence and as a reader, I am still reeling in the paroxysms of literary delight hours after finishing the book!

 

Book Review: The Great Indian Tamasha, Adventures of a wedding planner

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Author: Rasika Bhatia

This is a hilarious memoir by the author who happens to be a wedding planner and the book is a collection of her experiences in the business. Every story is different and gives us a takeaway just like the wedding guests! The stories are laced with sarcasm and dark humour; through these anecdotes, the author takes us on a journey. A journey that indirectly tells us the hard work and resilience every wedding planner puts in for an event to be successful. The book talks about the bed of thorns that a planner needs to tread to fulfill (sometimes unreasonable) customer demands. However, she also asserts that ‘alls well that ends well’ and the wedding planner is also a vital element involved in the union of two hearts.

The language is simple and the pace has been maintained throughout. Its a light and breezy read and promises to leave you smiling even hours after you have finished reading!

Book Review: Who Wants to Marry Kai Juicewalla?

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Author: Kainaz Jussawalla

The memoir is a laugh riot and the author has poured her heart out completely. She has laid her cards open and left them for the reader to form their opinions!

Kai Juicewalla is a born foodie and a self-confessed die-hard SRK fan who lives in the fairytale Bollywood world where she hopes to find her Mr. Perfect someday. She is curvy and absolutely unapologetic about it even going on to make a career as a flight attendant amidst hourglass mannequins. The book is a chronicled journey about Kai’s life so far where she meanders her way to finding her soulmate, the one for her. What follows is a string of bullies, losers, gold diggers, an Italian Adonis (with a mystery of his own), A confused but hot therapist, a narcissist with anger issues, an identity-conflicted individual, and also an unrequited love interest. It appears that she is destined to always crash and burn every time she pursues a potential suitor.

However, Kai realizes eventually that it’s important to love yourself first, and the most important relationship is the one you have with yourself.

Kudos to the author for brazenly putting her life out there with the details and though many of us only dream about them, she had the courage to write them down. Those of us who have battled the bulge or have been body-shamed can relate to the memoir. Though it’s infused with humor at every stance, kai has used the camouflage perfectly to hide the underneath agony a woman goes through. Yet it has been subtly tackled.

A breezy read for the weekend over cups of tea!!!

Book Review: Murder At The Club

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Author: Sushama Kasbekar

The murder mystery begins with finding a dead body in an elite club premises. The charming and suave Rita Bansal, wife of businessman, Rakesh Bansal is found dead in the guest room, and it’s a clear case of murder. It is discovered that she was intimate a little earlier, with business tycoon Manendra a perennial womanizer.

Police Inspector Virendra and his assistant get involved in the investigation that brings up the dirty linen of the rich and the so-called sophisticated elite to the forefront. Things get further murkier when another high-profile socialite is found murdered in the same club.

What is the connection between the two murders? Was it an act of revenge, passion, or jealousy? What were the skeletons hidden in the closets of the club members that resulted in bizarre trysts that ended relationship boundaries? Do politics score over personal bonding?

The story is about how Virendra eventually zeroes in on the Perps.

The author has tactfully handled the investigative process in this light and breezy read. There is no gore or explicit unwanted content. Though the characters are aplenty, she has handled them each deftly. Overall an interesting plot.

Book Review: India’s Money Heist: The Chelembra Bank Robbery

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Author: Anirban Bhattacharya

This is the author’s second book in my kitty and he doesn’t disappoint.

Chelembra, a small town in Kerala was caught in the eye of a storm when it became the hotspot of India’s largest bank heist. 80 kg of gold and cash amounting to about 8 crores INR were stolen in what seemed to be a perfect crime. However, the commendable efforts of the Kerala Police under the able leadership of P. Vijayan thwarted the criminal intents and not only recovered the loot but also strengthened the belief that crime never pays.

The salient features of the book are:

  1. impeccable research where the author worked at the grassroots to gain first-hand information about the investigation process and what transpired.
  2. The author has taken us on a journey from both ends, the mastermind’s mind and the Inspector in charge making this nothing short of a movie playing.

A sensational thriller to the core, this is a must-read.

Book Review: Be You Now

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Author: Sagar Makwana

This is a self-help guide written by a life coach.

Personally I am not a fan of non-fiction, however this book got me on the go. The book’s format and the premise set you thinking about the ‘you’ within you.

The author has elaborated on different elements that hinder our path towards ‘success’. At the same time, he has also laid down practical techniques and principles that can help us streamline ourselves to maximise our potential. The author has painstakingly put forth pertinent quizzes at regular intervals and one cannot help but delve into ‘self’.

The icing on the cake is, the book is far from preachy and is interspersed with anecdotes that make it a light read, with a heavy message.

A must-read if you feel bogged down by life pressures, unsure of your true calling in life, or if you are clueless abut the direction your life has taken.

I am still reeling in the ‘you’!

Poem: Her cherubic miracle

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‘Her cherubic miracle’
He came into her life when she saw lone despair.
Motherhood’s Jubilant elation filling her lair.
She yearned to hear a flowing conflab
His diagnosis hit like a power jab.
Autism… he would not speak, they declared
To the Almighty her voes she bared.
Plunging headlong into his rehabilitation
She was engulfed in the throes of exhaustion.
Two years passed in waiting agony
Her heart splintered at world’s apathy.
She had almost given up when one day
He looked into her eyes in abandoned gay
“Mama” his voice dripped warmth like never before
She cried holding him close, shaken to her core.
No less than a miracle, her life’s biggest gain
The heavens had smiled upon her yet again.
She made the resolve to work harder
His first words filled her with renewed vigour.
(dedicated to the mothers of the specially-abled angels)
(Posted on the Asian Literacy society’s page as a part of NaPoRimo day 1)

Mirror mirror on the wall….

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The mirror is my best friend because when I cry it never laughs.

Charlie Chaplin

“Amma…?”

Shalini waltzed into the tiny abode, the door banging after her. I rattled in my rickety frame, my senile cracked body ready to give away soon. The sliver of early morning sunrays streamed in through a crack in the fragile plaster-peeling wall, sending the listless dust into a frenzy.

Premalatha, clad in a simple cotton saree hanging loosely on her bony contours emerged from the partitioned kitchen and looked at me, nervously knotting her ‘pallu’ around her index finger.

Don’t worry Prema…

Her face crinkled up a hesitant smile; she had aged beyond her 45 summers given the curveballs life threw her way. I have been a mute witness to her turmoil reflecting everything in utmost sadness. Probably that’s why I still have a place in this house.

“Shalu, I am worried” Prema again looked at me and I hoped every single shard in me could capture her anguish without casting it back.

“Amma. Suresh has explained everything to his parents. They are educated people. They don’t even want dowry.” Shalini’s excitement was palpable. I hoped her dreams wouldn’t be shattered.

I had seen a lot of the world around in all honesty.

Real and virtual.

And judgemental.

In the next few hours, the single-room house was engulfed with myriad mouth-watering aromas. My smithereens glittered as the early evening sunlight fell on me brightening up the imperceptible room. I couldn’t wait to meet the guy.

Suresh and his parents soon made their entry with the curious neighbours in the chawl crowding in for a glimpse.

Premalatha welcomed them and they occupied the lone cot in the room. Suresh’s parents left the savouries untouched while they glanced around wrinkling their noses as their eyes caught mine.

Did I reflect their dark souls?

Premalatha had worn her ‘special-occasions’ purple nylon saree while Shalini looked like an angel in her pink salwar-kameez. Suresh was a lucky man…

“Premalathaji, we are of a modern outlook and don’t believe in dowry….” The father spoke tersely after sometime. “…but… your past… We like Shalini. She is educated and has a promising career ahead. But… she must break all ties with you…”

Rage swamped me and I thought I would splinter all over the place watching Premalatha swamped in misery.

What will happen to Prema after I am gone?

“No uncle, I am what I am because of my mother. She may have been a commercial sex worker in the past, but she worked hard to give me a life away from that dark hole. I am proud to be her daughter and I will only marry a person man enough to accept my mother.” Shalini declared unflinching.

The trio left soon after.

“I ruined it Shalu. You should sever ties with me…” Premalatha wailed later that evening.

“Stop that, Amma. You are my world. I love you.”

I now don’t mind being given away. My Prema is in safe hands.

(500-word flash fiction entry for Artoons Inn. Topic: Inanimate object’s POV. I see you)

Book Review: The House At Riverton

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Author: Kate Morton

“Within its four walls lay a secret that would last a lifetime…” says the writing on the book cover and it lives true in every sense of the word.

A brilliantly written fictional memoir, the book makes the reader go through various turmoils and upheavals in the time, in the early 1900s

The story vacillates between 1999 and 1924.

Grace Bradley is now 98 years old and she had been a housemaid at Riverton manor in the 1920s. When a young film director approaches her to make a movie surrounding the murder mystery of a poet at the time, Grace is engulfed with old memories. Ghosts emerge so do secrets hidden in the depths of her subconscious… as the only living witness to suicide/murder that changed the course of different lives in the manor.

Though history has forgotten it all and in some dusty corners lie the narrative, unheard and unsung, Grace juggles between her memories and present self. She decides to record it all for her writer-grandson and reveals it all in a bid to get closure for herself and leave the world guilt-free.

As the War-damaged summers of the past pave the way to the decadent turn of the century, this is a thrilling read and if one can call it, a compelling love story.