June2013

Time is changing, changing with an
accelerated speed. Our understating,
notions and perception are trying hard
to keep pace with this changing time.
As technology has taken a big leap in
the field of house hold implementation
of information, the spectrum of enter-
tainment and media suddenly has wid-
ened multi-fold. Digitization of literary
substance has suddenly bridged the gap between hi-
tech fashionable multi media and old fashioned literature.
In this age of tablets and smart phones, literature also has
come to the reader with a new look and appeal. The cir-
cle of readers has widened and so has perhaps the defini-
tion of “literature”! But any technological advance carries
with it, its own challenges and threats and sadly this field is
no exception! Trivialization of literature, for example can
be one such threat, as perceived by the “serious reader”!
We have started our journey in this new era of dig-
ital literature and publishing with a mission to take
the Indian literature to a wider spectrum of read-
ers, writers and most importantly publishers.
Thank you for your encouraging comments on
our inaugural issue. We’ve learned so much from
them. Keep them coming and enjoy this edition.
Editor
Victor Basu
Sub Editors
Mukesh Rijhwani
Sumantra Chowdhury
Sanghamitra Guha
Photo Editor
Neloy Banerjee
Designer
Amit Mitra

16
44
48
30
26
56
60
59
64
22
23
24
42
10
52
14
13
03
34
06
74
69
71

With baited breath, Bangalore celebrat-
ed the launch of blogger-turned-author
Judy Balan’s new book, ‘Sophie Says
- The Memoirs of a Breakup Coach’. If
how to handle break-ups is what you
wanted to know, then this is the perfect
pick for you. The book offers a sneak
peek into the fashionable issues of the
21st century. The characters represent
people that we might have met at some
point of our lives. Sophie, an inde-
pendent women, gives her theories on
breakups by offering a Breakup Fact in
each chapter. The event involved an in-
teractive session with the writer and an
entertaining session by stand-up comic
Carey Edwards on 31st May at the Roy-
al Orchid Hotel.

On 4 May Eureka Book-
shop and Duckbill Books
organised Stories in the
Park, where children were
invited to an evening of
storytelling. Six authors
read out stories and ex-
tracts from books. Paro
Anand read from her
book Wingless. Sharanya
Deepak, debut author of
the book, The Vampire
Boy, read from her book.
Anushka Ravishankar
read from Moin and the
Monster Bikram Ghosh
(of the famous Tadpole
Repertory) read out an
extract from Meera Nair’s
Maya. Himanjali Sankar
read from her book The
Stupendous Timetelling
Superdog. Finally, as the
evening fell and candles
were lit, Ankit Chadha
read a Chinese fable about
a stonecutter.

Is there any one genre that you
personally want Indian writers to
explore that’s missing from (or you
want to see more of in) Indian En-
glish Literature?
Not just one but a few like thrillers,
crime fiction, sci-fi, fantasy, pulp etc.
I receive very few proposals in them,
fewer are the ones that are well written
and then we end up publishing even
less. These surprisingly are the genres
that do very well as foreign titles and we
see many of them working in the re-
gional languages as well.
Do you see the quality of manu-
scripts have improved or degraded
over the last couple of years?
It’s always a mix of the good, and the
not so good.
How long you look at the manu-
script?
We do try to get back between 2-3
weeks, sometimes earlier. It depends
actually on the writing and the length
of the proposal and also our work load
at that time.
How many manuscripts that you
receive in a year and how many
books does penguin publish in a
year?
We do more than 200 books a year and
have an active backlist of over 2000 ti-
tles. Which means that besides our usu-
al front list publishing we are constantly
involved in re-jacketing and providing
fresh look and packaging to our older
titles.
Storizen interviewed Vaishali Mathur,
Senior Commissioning Editor of India’s
prominent publishing house - Penguin.
Vaishali shared her experiences and gave
a sneak peak in the world of publishing
for our readers and aspiring authors.
storizen.com | June 2013 | 11

What’s the three most common
mistakes that you find in manu-
scripts?
I wouldn’t say mistakes, but what I feel
authors sometimes fail to pay attention
to:
First and foremost, the synopsis. It’s
very important to have a very de-
tailed (not over written), well thought
of synopsis which helps the publisher
visualize the storyline and the book.
The second is the story itself. A good
storyline, even it is not so well written is
acceptable as opposed to a well written
but weak story. And thirdly, copying
other, successful authors and trying to
push with the same ideas. I understand
that certain genres works better and
get published repeatedly but formulaic
writing without enough originality is
very off putting.
Do you entertain recommenda-
tions from Literary agents?
Absolutely. They are like extension of
the publishing arm who know what
your list is like and what you are look-
ing to publish. As a commissioning
editor I’m assuming that the agent has
done his/her homework before sending
me a manuscript. So when they give me
a recommendation I take it seriously.
Unfortunately, not many in India take
their role seriously and try and push
anything and everything that comes to
them.
Do you also look at the blog or so-
cial media following of a wannabe
author while deciding?
Yes, in commercial writing an online
profile always helps as does any experi-
ence in writing. A blog also helps un-
derstand the author’s style of writing.
Do you recommend that a wan-
nabe author should get his/her
manuscript professionally edited
before submitting?
One needs to consider the extent of
editing. If it’s things like a re-write or
re-structuring, I would be wary of pro-
fessional editing because it’s very easy
to go overboard. If it’s done carefully
and not with a heavy hand, so it high-
lights the good points of the novel, then
it’s okay. One really needs to take a
call on it. We do fair bit of editing and
re-writes at our end, so if the story is
good and fairly well told, the rest can
be done by the publishers. However, in
some cases we ourselves recommend
approaching a professional editor.
Why do publishers don’t explain
their rejections?
There are always several reasons for
rejecting a manuscript and its difficult
to explain all of them. Also if by rectify-
ing all those problems, the ms became
worth publishing, we would readily do
that, but there’s no guarantee. So it’s
better to just say a polite no. Having
said that when authors ask for a reason,
I do explain. Also, when sometimes you
get the feeling that your feedback would
help the author, you do make sugges-
tions.

The story should have minimum 2 to max. 4 suspects. If there’s
only one suspect, then there’s no point. If there are more than 4, then it
will be difficult to distinguish them from one another.
All suspects should have a strong motive. Without the strong motive, neither
the reader will be engaged in the story, nor the characters of the story.
The victim should be rich, famous or beautiful. Which is more compelling sto-
ry? “Retired postman got killed” or “26 years old sensuous daughter of Liquor
Baron got killed”.
Apart from the murder, there has to be few more events happening in the
story. The story should have other events like attacking / killing other victims,
clean up of traces during investigations, attack on the investigators, etc.,
Murder should happen within first 2-5% of the story.
The chief investigator has to have a sidekick. This one is just to carry out the
legacy of Murder mysteries.
Never conclude murder mystery - a case of suicide. Else it’s a waste of reader’s
time.
No ghosts please. Unless you’re writing stories based on ghost, don’t conclude
the murder was done by a ghost.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8

blood
his de

Thank you for the information.” He
strode out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shamsher walked over to the hospital
in which the autopsy was being carried
out.
It was a weird old, worn out edifice
which had cubicles, designed to diag-
nose,
alleviate, cure or bury the sick. The path
to the mortuary was nothing less than a
horror movie. But he had no effect.
He had seen many of them. Shamsher
barged
into the office where the superintendent
sat. A man with salt and pepper beard,
slightly grey hair and a paunch, sat on
the other side of the table. He was occu-
pied
by lot of files and folders that covered
every inch of the table. Shamsher had a
discussion, which lasted for a short
time, about two minutes and left the
room.
What he had expected was true, Nikita
was two months PREGNANT!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Malini intended to have a discussion
with Shamsher, for which he waited
eagerly.
Among all the pieces of evidence, only
one thing, a silver coated bracelet was
a question. Till now all he had in his
mind was only two people as the sus-
pect,
one with a faint doubt was Malini and
the other because of whom Nikita was
pregnant. But who is that man? Malini
couldn’t do the killing as it would be
very difficult for her to execute the
murder herself. “Did you get the cul-
prit?”
Malini frowned. “Your daughter was
pregnant and I don’t understand why
you
are hiding the truth!” Malini’s jaw
dropped. “This can’t be true!” She lay
on the
couch dumbstruck. The SSP sat on the
couch positioned opposite to her. He
began
fumbling with the things which he
picked from Nikita’s room. One of them
was
her personal diary. He had been taught
by her mother not to read someone
else’s
diary. With slight hesitation, he opened
it, hoping to find a clue to lead to an apt
decision. To his surprise, a photograph
dropped down from it. He carefully
closed
the diary and picked up the half folded
picture in his hand, unfolding it with
utmost
precaution just not to tear off the fragile
piece of paper. Nikita was standing with
Yogesh, a rare picture taken about a few
years back. It appeared to be in cap-
tured
in close vicinity of his clinic’s one of
the private chambers. He was not that
much
surprised at the cherubic face of Yogesh
but by a meticulous look at his wrist.
Bracelet! Looking at the picture with
Consider the following scenario –
You are a first time author. You have
either self published your book or used
a fly by night operator (read ‘Printer’)
as a publisher. They have already taken
a lot of money from you to publish your
manuscript. And now you have to pay
even more to get the marketing done.
You don’t have huge pockets to do that.
What’s your next move? You can do any
of the following –
(a)-Relax and wait for your friends’
feedback. Once they read it, they would
tell their friends and thus the network
would build
(b)-Expect people to pick up the book
directly from retail stores like Land-
mark, Crossword, Flipkart etc.
(c)-Contact famous book reviewers and
send them a copy for review
The third alternative is one of the most
feasible and something which a lot of
authors have begun doing these days. If
you are a new author, getting reviewed
and accredited by certain established
book reviewers is a matter of pride. The
reviewers could range from famous
bloggers to top authors. While if you
are an established author, a lot many
newspapers, magazines etc. will also be
ready to review your work.
The Indian literary industry is booming
these days with authors trying diverse
genres. Whether it’s a crime thriller or
a satire or even a mushy college love
story, everyone from corporate big-
wigs to college students seems to have
bitten the literary bug. And if you are
a book reviewer, there’s no better time
than now. There’s so much to read, like
and dislike. I personally get around ten
book review requests per month. As a
matter of principle, I never refuse any-
one however bad the book may seem.
But then, many a time due to the pend-
ing backlog and other responsibilities it
may take me upto a month to respond
to an author.
A book reviewer basically gives an idea
of the story, the narrative, the struc-
ture etc. to a reader. He basically gives
a peak into the world of the characters
and the happenings of a story.

d shot eyes, he knew that he had made
ecision.
It’s something like giving an idea of how
a food item tastes. Is the salt ok? Are the
spices enough? Have all the vegetables
been added? And so on and so forth.
So what all does a ‘good’ book reviewer
do? A good book reviewer never gives
out the story but rather talks about
what makes the story good, bad or ugly.
Even if he doesn’t like a story, he should
give detailed information on what was
bad. I believe that writing an ethical
review is one of the most important
things as far as book reviews are con-
cerned. One needs to mention the
strengths and weaknesses rather than
be too biased negatively or positively.
These days with the proliferation of
social networks like Twitter, Facebook
etc. as well as websites like Flipkart,
Goodreads, Amazon etc., book review-
ers have become even more important.
As soon as a person reads a book, he
/ she immediately posts a review or
writes few lines about it on any of these
sites. And this has the potential to go
viral among his / her followers as well
as other people around. These sites also
offer the opportunity to rate a book
from 1 star to 5 star. More important-
ly, there are a variety of debates, some
of them really heated up which begin
among people on these websites. There
are those who vigorously defend their
favourite authors or books. It becomes a
source of pride for them.
But then it’s not all hunky dory in the
book reviewing world. There are quite
a few book reviewers out there who are
paid to write great stuff or really hor-
rible stuff about a book. These online
sites also offer the opportunity for ma-
nipulating the ratings and reviews of a
book. Now these are things one can’t
really control. It is like part and parcel
of the book reviewing game.
Book reviews (Both good and bad) are
a great way to generate eyeballs for your
book in the market. It gives a sense of
intrigue for would be readers as today
not many go and buy a book without
skimming through its reviews. Paid
reviews maybe fine until it becomes
known to a prospective reader that it
was paid for.
Honestly, I don’t follow any particular
book reviewers. But rather, as I men-
tioned earlier I check various online
portals, social networks as well as blogs
which pop up in Google search results
before going for a book.
Aseem Rastogi is a passionate blogger, published author and
an avid lover of books. He has opinions on anything & ev-
erything under the sun which he keeps penning on his blog.

Sharp 9 am on a weekday morning, the Storizen team reached Anuja Chauhan’s
place in Bangalore. Anuja Chauhan was the brain behind Pepsi’s kickass adver-
tisements – “Yeh Dil Maange More”, “Nothing official about it”, and tons of other
ads. We expected to interview an author in her early forties. The door opened and
we were greeted by a big dog. A woman in her late twenties or early thirties said,
“Oh you guys are already here. Come on in, don’t worry about him,” (pointing to
the dog) “He’s just a mouse.”
Reluctantly, we stepped inside a tastefully decorated hall. The woman said, “I will
be back in a bit”. It was then that we realized, she was Anuja herself and not her
younger sister or daughter.
We were served with coffee and cookies, and within no time an easy going con-
versation started about her cross-over from a high-flying advertising career to a
full time author.
We asked her why she left her high-flying advertising career for writing?
To this she answered, “The fact was I was flying too much. So the whole thing
with writing is that you can do from home also, in office also versus other jobs in
advertising. Writing is most suited for the person who has a big family and wants
to spend time at home. But there were too many shoots and it became crazy,

and so I thought if I write books I could just sit at home and write. Also, what
happens is that initially you write for advertising is very exciting but as you get
more and more senior, you actually don’t get to write anymore. I did not join ad-
vertising to become a manager, I joined advertising to become a writer and so that
was the other thing”.
Anuja worked in the advertising agency, JWT India, for over 17 years, eventually
becoming vice president and executive creative director, before resigning in 2010

to pursue a full-time literary career.
Over the years she worked with brands
like Pepsi, Kurkure, Mountain Dew and
Nokia, creating Pepsi’s “Nothing official
about it” campaign and advertising slo-
gans like Pepsi’s “Yeh Dil Maange More”
and “Oye Bubbly”.
We asked her if she regretted leav-
ing her advertising career.
To this she promptly replied, “No I
don’t regret it, I am very happy do-
ing what I am doing. I miss the gossip
though.
When asked about her take on zoo
zoo ads being the most creative ads
of the decade, this is what she had
to say, “I like the ZooZoo campaign,
but not much in love with it. I feel Ogil-
vy does some really good work and you
see it in many different things. I think
they’ve done lots of other equally nice
campaigns.
We steered the conversation towards
her debut novel, “The Zoya Factor”. She
got elated and told us a juicy story.
“We’ll go in ancient history. I did the
Pepsi campaign for 3 world cups back
to back and each one did really well.
And then it became like there’s yet an-
other world cup and again you’ve to
do another campaign which should be
better than all the earlier campaigns
and the pressure was really killing.
At that point of time I snapped and
said, this is it I am leaving advertis-
ing and am going to write books. So
that’s what I did. So everyone in office
said no no calm down, it’s a phase why
don’t you 3 months paid leave, write
a book, get it out of your system and
join back. So that’s what I did, only of
course I couldn’t finish the book in 3
months. Some guts I had, Teen mahine
meinkitaab likh doongi. Couldn’t do it.
(Laughs) So I joined back and finished
the book while working. I thought ok
may be I am not so bad at this. Also,
in advertising I am considered as old
person, in writing I am considered as
young writer (laughs) that’s really cool.
Oh I am young writer and not a mid-
dle-aged creative director.”
We all were in splits by her wit and
timing. She spoke confidently and from
heart. We asked her how she managed
to get her book published. She replied.
“It was quite easy. After I wrote it, I sat
on it for about six months. My husband
said he know Tarun Tejpal and asked
me to speak to him. I got his number,
called him up and told me to meet his
publisher at Harper Collins. So I went
and met this lady in Connaught place
with my one print out. She took it and
she said that the story sounds interest-
ing because I told her a little bit about
story. Thereafter, she called me in a
week’s time and told me that she would
publish my book.”
Having worked on the Pepsi brand for
13 years, closely associated with cricket
advertising, led to cricket becoming the
setting of “The Zoya Factor” which is
about a girl Zoya Singh Solanki, a client
service representative with an advertis-
ing agency, who becomes a lucky mas-
cot of the Indian cricket team. At the
time of its release, The Zoya Factor ran
the danger of being dismissed as

‘Mills and Boon-ish’ but most reviewers
were quick to praise the depth of the
author’s characters, her wicked descrip-
tions and the authenticity of her Hin-
glish laced dialogue.
She has been hailed as the best chick
lit writer in India, but has repeatedly
stated that “Chicks are small, brainless,
powerless creatures, bred to be eaten.
I’m not a chick and I don’t write for
chicks.” The Zoya Factor has won Cos-
mopolitan Magazine, India’s Fun Fear-
less Female award for literature (2008)
and the India Today Woman award for
Woman as Storyteller (2009). It was
longlisted for the India Plaza Golden
Quill (2009).
The novel has also been optioned
for a film by Shah Rukh Khans
Red Chillies Entertainment pro-
duction company. When asked
about the details on the same, she
answered
“I sold Zoya to Shahrukh. For Zoya,
everyone was phoning me up. It was
very hep, all the coolest people in Bolly-
wood. I spoke to Shahrukh and he was
my friend. So he said, “haan you come
and meet me. He came to my hotel and
walked around the lobby and everyone
like look Shahrukh Khan. Then I told
him X wants it, Y wants it what should I
do? So instead of giving me good ad-
vice, he said you give it to me. (laughs)”
She then said that since Red Chillies
were going through operational issues
and with no objection from SRK, the
movie rights were re-sold to Adlabs.
She told us about movie rights for her
other novels as well.
“With Battle of Bittora, I sold it to Sare-
gama, because lots of people wanted it
and I wanted the best money. Saregama
gave me the best money. Now Saregama
has sold it to Anil Kapoor’s film compa-
ny. On Pricey Thakur Girls, I have lot of
exciting offers and I have to close it off.
”Her latest novel, Those Pricey Thakur
Girls, set in pre-liberalization India, was
released in January 2013 and is the first
in a series of novels about the Thakurs
of Hailey Road, an upper-middleclass
Rajput family of five alphabetically
named sisters. Initial sales and reviews
have been extremely positive, with the
book debuting and staying steady at
Number 2 on The Asian Age’s Top Ten
Fiction Bestsellers list and comparisons
to Jane Austen cropping up in every re-
view. Mint scribed her writing style “as
a mix of wit and colloquial

exuberance and calling her the only
Indian writer of popular fiction real-
ly worth buying.” Tehelka called her,
“quite simply, the funniest writer of
contemporary popular fiction.” While
India Today stated that ‘beneath the
bubble and froth of this delightful nov-
el, lies the starker reality of Delhi life.’
Anuja had also started writing
screenplays and so, we asked her to
tell us more about her experience.
She replied, “Yes, I am also writing
screenplays, which are quite fun and
different, and give you all that glamour
and gossip, going to Mumbai and meet-
ing cool people. So that’s nice because
writing book is a very lonely vs. writing
screenplay. Also, I am writing a TV se-
rial which I am very excited about.”
Anuja has also written the screenplay of
a commercial feature film - a love story
titled Guppie - mein liar nahi shayar
hoon by Nikhil Advani a promiment
Bollywood producer/director who di-
rected Kal Ho Na Ho and most recently,
Patiala House, starring Akshay Ku-
mar. She is currently writing two more
screenplays, one for Anil Kapoor Film
Company and one for production stu-
dio UTV-Disney.
We asked her how her has life has
changed and if she’s meeting more
people or less people?
She replied with a calm and composed
voice, “It’s a more settled life but more
chaotic on the financial side. The work
is fantastic, but the money is highly
irregular. So that is like the big change
that happened. So that’s one. I meet lots
of people now, but I tend to

meet people I like. So the quality of
people has gone up, the quantity of peo-
ple has gone down.”
When asked if she remembered
any particular feedback from an
ordinary reader that had stayed
on remained in her mind, she
quickly replied with a smile,
“My reviews are always, about like 95%
positive. When you get feedback from
the other side, then it’s always nice.”
She then told us the secret work
around the Writers’ block?
“Of course there is. You do get a writ-
er’s block. But the way I deal with it is
I don’t write for a while.I have couple
of regular columns. So I put the book
away and I write a column or I go back
to the screen play I am working on or
do something else for a while. And
usually, when you come back to it with
a fresh mind then you can fix it. That’s
what I find writers’ block is a usually a
case of trying too hard. And in advertis-
ing, I used to tell my kids ki “Bahut zor
lagaoge toh sirf potty niklegi” laughs
“so bahutzor mat lagao” . It’s my orig-
inal line. Please don’t try so hard. You
know sitting and sweating blood, I say
forget it. Don’t do it. Keep it light and
easy, hawa aate rehane dete hain. Oth-
erwise it gets so toxic.
Our last question to her was what
would be her message to young
aspiring writers?
She said, “Many people say they write
books but they don’t. They should write
more. Write every day. Finish one book
and send it across. Don’t send an out-
line and three chapters. Write your
book in decent language and send it. It
will get published.”
That brought an end to an interesting
and exciting interaction with one of the
most dynamic names in the Indian ad-
vertising industry and now in the Indi-
an writing industry.
Thank you Ms. Anuja Chauhan.

Plug me in,
Switch me on.
Put me in your ears,
Wear me and accessorize.
Small am I in size,
Charge me, Play me and hear me rise.
I can sing, make your feet go tip tap toe,
Enjoy me, shake your head zip zap zo.
Shuffle, play and stop,
Rewind,play and shuffle,
Forward, pause and shuffle,
I would still make you go rock and roll.
Wear me on your hand,
Put me as a band,
Chain me on your neck,
Hold me with your belt.
Load me, store me and fill me,
I would still surprise you with more and
more.
Singing for you everyday,
Ever at your service night and day,
I can give you peace in my melody,
Play for you and give you that harmony.
I am Mr. IPod shuffle,
Born at Apple.
A Software Engineer by profession
and a blogger by passion. Have a zest
for life enjoy every minute to the
fullest and spread a smile wherever I
go. Love to travel and an ardent read-
er. Hold an ambition to write a book
someday.

She is mystery unfathomable,
Deep, intense and surreptitious,
Sweeping past the deep ravines,
A legend that is mysterious.
Gracefully strolling like a nymph,
She is an enchantress of repute,
Creating magic with her voice,
Weaving thoughts deeply astute.
A timid yet tumulus disposition,
She knows not what fear is
Braving the mighty mistrals,
She sails unscathed with ease.
Pure as the morning dew,
She is the spirit of happiness,
A friend of solitary hearts,
She’s the soul of liveliness.
Sumantra works as a content writer
with a reputed IT firm in Banga-
lore. Besides playing with words to
create rhyming verse, he loves to
dance and watch animation movies.
Always smiling, Sumantra considers
his family and friends as his biggest
assets.

I hold the bread in my hands
with the firmest grip possible
some hungry eyes are set on it
conjuring plans to snatch and gobble
But my hunger has made me stronger
I can fight for it to see the end
three days of empty stomach drove me crazy
this morsel of bread I have to defend
Living on the streets is a fun in its own way
surviving a life that was unwanted from birth
since the day when i saw the first light
I had to fight to live one more day on this
earth
I see you moving in your cozy car
seated in the backseat like a princess in motion
you looked like a goddess to me
I thanked some god somewhere for giving me
vision
Once your vehicle stopped at a traffic
and you lowered your window pane for a while
your fragrance overshadowed the stench
around me
I was there right before you, right beside the
garbage pile
I don’t look like your friends or rather any-
thing human
just a mere form of existence loaded with pain
but when the drops of water come rushing
down from sky
it rekindles my love for you, when i do my
waltz in the rain.
“Just another IT guy working at
a software company in Banga-
lore with dreams in the eyes and
hopes in the heart. I write more
than I speak.”

Strap: This went on for a year and a
half. At the end of which my ego had
shrivelled down to the size of a tiny rai-
sin, my self-esteem squashed like a bug
and my confidence was in tatters.
There’s nothing new about this hard-
luck story.
I’ve been writing for years. A column in
the Bangalore Monthly, a local maga-
zine in the city where I live, called ‘Be-
tween The Sexes,’ a kind of light-heart-
ed, half-serious rant against men.
Literature-lite, if you will.
It became mildly popular in town and
people started thinking of me as some
kind of expert on the subject of men,
which I’m most certainly not, of course.
Writing about something in a superfi-
cial, flighty way is one thing. Being an
actual expert with serious 411 is anoth-
er. Just ask any journalist.
But I also wrote investigative stories for
the same magazine. About the plight
of gay people in Bangalore. A woman
who took care of terminally ill cancer
patients. An NGO that employed ques-
tionable methods to top up their inter-
national funding. That sort of thing. I
tried not to let the imagination run too
wild when I was doing this type of writ-
ing. The company could get sued.
Finally, I wrote songs. I liked this best of
all because of the structure that music
forces on you, challenging your creative
abilities to the max. Fitting into the me-
tre, the rhyme, the rhythm, and all the
while making sense.
So you can imagine why I fancied my-
self quite the writer when I’d finally fin-
ished writing, ‘Men On My Mind,’ some
one hundred and twenty thousand
words of depth and detail, of adventure
and misfortune, all with a clever twist of
phrase and sparking wit. I patted myself
on the back.
I had no doubt in my mind whatsoever
that the entire world was waiting; the
breath bated, for my novel to be print-
ed and distributed far, wide and plenty.
Move over JKR and ELJ, I gloated quiet-
ly to myself. Just wait and see. Hee hee
hee.
After the last spell check, the last edit
and the final spit and polish was applied
to the manuscript, I decided the time
had come for me to send it out. I had
a list of the world’s top publishers and
editors. Everyone. Big ones and little
ones. Intermediate ones. Even one or
two textbook publishers, but that was a
mistake.
I’d rush to the mailbox every day (on
my computer of course) waiting for the
deal. The million-dollar deal.
At first I didn’t hear from anyone. Not
to worry, I told myself. It takes time
to read. It takes time to digest. It takes
time to move around budgets.
And then, after about forty-five days,
the mails started trickling in.
“No.”
“While we appreciate your work, it’s not
for us at this time.”
“Our catalogue is closed for the year.”
“We only publish serious stuff.”
“Seriously?”
“The subject matter isn’t quite in line
with our goals.”

And even, “I thought it would more like
Fifty Shades, there needs to me some
real porn. This isn’t explicit enough.”
This went on for a year and a half. At
the end of which my ego had shrivelled
down to the size of a tiny raisin, my
self-esteem squashed like a bug and my
confidence was in tatters.
And just when I thought I couldn’t sink
any lower, I got a call from my friend
and agent Jayapriya Vasudevan.
“I’ve got an offer,” she said gurgling on
the phone from Singapore where she
lived. “Not only do they love your book,
they want three of them in a row and
they’re ready to ay you an advance too,”
she added.
And so it was that my book, ‘Men On
My Mind’ was picked up by Rupa Pub-
lications and now I can proudly walk
around calling myself a published au-
thor.
Is it easy to get published?
I guess it’s about easy as winning the
lottery.
Radha Thomas, besides being the author of her debut novel ‘Men On My
Mind,’ Rupa Publications, is also leader of UNK: The Radha Thomas Ensem-
ble, a jazz band based out of Bangalore and works as Executive Vice President
at Explocity.com.

My process of authoring a book be-
gan many years ago when I discovered
the joy of writing in my childhood. I
have been writing and reading ever
since I remember.
I started writing professionally when
I was 15. Rashmi Bansal, now a best-
selling author herself was my first ed-
itor and the woman who gave me my
first break writing for JAM – the youth
magazine. I went ahead to write for a
number of other publications such as
Times of India, Rediff.com and DNA as
a freelance writer alongside completing
my education. Hence, I was not new to
seeing my name in the print, as such.
The aspiration, however, of seeing my
name on the cover of a book remained
at the back of my mind.
I stopped writing for newspapers once
I finished my MBA and immersed my-
self completely in a full time corporate
career. It was at this time that I started
toying with the idea of writing a full
length manuscript, on a subject that
was always close to my heart – Immo-
rality of Love. I started working on the
idea and I finished writing my manu-
script in about 3-4 months time.
Now I had heard from a lot of sources
that getting published was not easy at
all, plus I did not know any publisher
as such. With help from friends, cold
calling the landline numbers of the
various publishing houses, I sent my
manuscript out to all the publishers. My
first rejection came in about 2 month’s
time from a leading publishing house,
followed by rejection letters from var-
ious publishing house, literary agents
and editors. Every rejection hurt and
it was heart breaking and a confidence
shattering process that haunts me even
till this day.
Unfortunately for me, the worse howev-
er, was yet to come.
It had been 11 months since my manu-
script was ready and awaiting a publish-
er, when I started getting sick periodi-
cally. A test for a routine check revealed
that I was seriously ailing and in the
duration of the same day, I was diag-
nosed with Critical Kidney Failure.
I was 27 years old when I was told that
my life as I know it had ended. I had
to get a high risk organ transplant sur-
gery to live at all and that even after the
surgery my quality of life will proba-
bly never be the same again. The cruel
part of the deal was that I would need
another person to donate their Kidney
for me to become a full bodied per-
son again. Coming to terms with how
something like this had happened to a
completely healthy person like me was
only one part of the problem, the other
was whether I would ever be normal
again, whole again. I had my whole
life ahead of me – I wanted to get mar-
ried, write books, have kids, travel the
world…none of that seemed possible
now. The loss of the life I hadn’t even
lived yet was bearing down upon me.
I was on dialysis, awaiting a donor,
when I had received a total of 14 re-
jections for all over the world. I was so
close to death that at times, I actually
felt that ‘This was it. Game’s over for
me’. I thought I’d never be able to see
my book being published or if it did,

live to see that day. I could see my
death reflected in my doctors and rela-
tives faces.
I received ‘the call’ from my (now) edi-
tor, on the day that I had just come back
home from the initial hospitalization,
saying that Penguin Books India will
publish my book.
I didn’t know how to react – I was living
my greatest dream and my worst night-
mare together. I pretty much signed
my book deal on my hospital bed while
I was on dialysis.
Eventually my mom
donated one of her
kidneys to me and
my god’s grace I
made a full recovery
post the transplant
surgery.
A year and 20 days
after my surgery I
launched my book
at a celeb studded
book launch. I felt
blessed to be there
and I truly consider
my post transplant
years to be my second birth. My jour-
ney so far has been difficult but well
earned. Publishing ‘Nick of Time’ now
is even more rewarding because I feel
writing a book is like being immortal,
no matter what happens now my words,
my story about a timeless love will live
on. I imagine that someday I will have
grandchildren who will read the book
and would know exactly what I was like
when I was 26.
Komal Mehta is Sr Manager Marketing by day and an author by night. She is
the author of ‘Nick of Time – Right One, Wrong Time’ published by Penguin
Books India. She had just finished writing her second novel and is working on
her third one.

An impressive red building inside the Cubbon Park, Bangalore, houses the State
Central Library. Hundreds of pigeons around the building adds to the mesmeriz-
ing atmosphere of thick plantation of abundant flora and fauna.

In 1914, Sir Vishveshwaraiah ordered to start Public library in this memorial
building. In 1966, this library was taken over by the Government of Karnataka. As
per the data, this library has a collection of 2.65 lakh books and also has a Braille
section. Great place for the bookworms!
Photo: Amith Nag

The National Library of India is situated in the scenic 30 acre Belvedere Estate in
Kolkata. It is country’s largest library with over 2.2 million books. It is India’s only
Category 6 library.
Another view of the State Central Library, Bangalore. This building was built in
the memory of Divan Sir Seshadri Iyer.”
Photo: Suvajit Sengupta
Photo: Suman Munshi

Situated in Mumbai, The David Sassoon Library and Reading room is one of the
oldest in the country. Members of all walks of lives visit this library because of it’s
convenient location in Fort area, a prominent business district of Mumbai..
Photo: Sandeep Sulakhe

The Asiatic Society Library of Mumbai has over hundred thousand books, out of
which 15,000 are classified as rare and valuable. It also is home of priceless arti-
facts and over 3,000 ancient manuscripts in Persian, Sanskrit and Prakrit, some of
which are on palm leaves. It also has numismatic collection of 11,829 coins.
Photo: Sandeep Sulakhe

Photo: Aparna Guha
Photo: Aparna Guha

founder of S.S.Microsystem India pvt. ltd and
astromindsclub.com with 4 e-magazine’s chief editor with
42.9 viwers hits from 246 countries.and 175k members
ranked in Top 35 Journalist of Popular Canadian News
Portal.”
Amith Nag is a hobby photographer, practising photog-
raphy for the past 4 years. He likes to shoot various topics
like stage shows architecture, street, macros and land-
scapes. He is a software engineer by profession and is based
in Bangalore.
is the co-founder of the Toronto based boutique travel
company, Original Trails. She customizes trips for travellers
following the philosophy of “Ethical Travel” and gives back
to local causes.
Suvajit Sengupta is a Bangalore based software professional
with no formal background in the subject of photography.
The seeds which were sown as hobby, nurtured with self
study, experiments, discussion with like minded people,
has now grown to a big tree of passion.
Sandeep Sulakhe is a software professional based in Mum-
bai, got hooked to photography in 2010.

Take us through some peak points
in your sporting career.
The period of 17 years when i was at
the peak of my career on the sports
field. Every medal that i won was spe-
cial and when i failed to make a mark
it was bitter but only taught me to get
stronger and work harder. the most
memorable ones were ...
a. when I won the national gold in long
jump barely 10 months after my daugh-
ter was born.
b. when I broke the national record in
long jump.
c. when the Arjuna Award was coveted
on me.
Which books or authors have left a
mark on you?
Mostly read inspirational books espe-
cially the ones connected to sports Born
to run, Champion in all of us,once a
runner are few of my best . with regard
to fictional have read all the series of
Jeffery Archer, John Gray , Frederick
Forsyth.
Have you considered writing an
autobiography?
Yes for the last couple of years the idea
has been running in my mind.
If movie has to be made on you,
which of the current actresses will
you choose?
since the movie on me will be sports
oriented, in case i will not be able to
play n my part, then i would choose
Deepika Padukone.
Why do you think the book on
sportsmen doesn’t sell much in
India?
Very few books have been written on
sportsmen other than the cricket
players which i personally feel is more
glamour and less struggle. if someone
could write about our Olympians /
olympic medallists and their struggles
sacrifices to reach the top they would all
be good inspirational books and would
sell well.
Do you have any suggestions for
aspiring athletes?
Nothing comes easy in life . If one has
to reach the top sacrifice . dedication ,
hard work , positive attitude and de-
termination is a must. most of all one
must be passionate about the sport to
achieve the desired results. There is so
much of talent in our youngsters if they
could be encouraged and supported by
the govt and well wishers it would be
a load of the parents who spend a lot
on their kids tp support them to climb
the ladder of success. Right now the
support comes only when a sports per-
son has reached a certain level . In my
opinion the outllook to sports has to be
revamped completely in our country.
the Athlete should be viewed as a spe-
cial person and treated like a hero.

Who prompted you to write your
book?
I was a full time journalist, I quit when
my son was born. It was my mother
who always felt that I had a book in me
and kept insisting that I write one. I also
have two very dear friends, Parul Shar-
ma, a best selling author herself, and
Priyanka Chaturvedi, a close friend,
who has a book review blog, who en-
couraged me to at least give it a shot. I
wrote three sample chapters and sent
it across to an editor at Westland, who
liked it and that is how the book came
about.
What is Reluctant Detective all
about?
I was a full time journalist, I quit when
my son was born. It was my mother
who always felt that I had a book in me
and kept insisting that I write one. I also
have two very dear friends, Parul Shar-
ma, a best selling author herself, and
Priyanka Chaturvedi, a close friend,
who has a book review blog, who en-
couraged me to at least give it a shot. I
wrote three sample chapters and sent
it across to an editor at Westland, who
liked it and that is how the book came
about.
How did you get a call and what
was your approach?
It was pretty simple. I just sent out
three sample chapters and a synopsis
of how the story would flow to Deep-
ti Talwar, the editor of Westland. She
liked it and told me to send in the rest
of the chapters. I was pretty lucky in
that sense.
You have massive following on
Twitter. Did it help in the market-
ing of the book?
I don’t know if it did, Twitter can be
a double edged sword. But it surely
helped in that it created a fair amount
of visibility.
Is there any innovative tactic you
followed when marketing your
book?
There was no tactic as such that I fol-
lowed. I have very loving and enthusi-
astic friends who spoke about my book
in their blogs. Additionally, I was also
open to reading the book wherever
people invited me. I have read in jewel-
lery stores, play centres for kids, salons,
book stores, etc. Folks were very kind to
invite me to read the book and that’s all
that I did.
Was there an instance where you
had a book reading and one or two
people showed up?
Actually I have never been in a situation
where just one or two people showed
up.
Which is the book that someone
else had written and you think you
could write better?
I would never be so presumptuous.
There are many books that I have en-
joyed and wouldn’t change a word
about them. But there is one book

I wish I had written, a book that has
always been my favourite. It was Jane
Eyre written by Charlotte Bronte. I
think it is the first feminist manifes-
to that help shape my thinking. It is a
wonderful example of a woman for that
era, where women were bound by so-
cietal norms and dictates, who though
orphaned, grows to be an independent
free thinking woman. Of course, I don’t
think I could have written it better
though.
Do you also follow Ayn Rand?
I think I read her Fountainhead at a
wrong time in my life, it didn’t real-
ly touch me as much as it has done so
many.
How has life changed
after publishing your
book?
I don’t think life has
changed at all, I’m still a
suburban housewife, a
school gate mom. The only
thing that has changed is
that I consciously take time
out to write.
Your book has lot of
traces of your life in the
book?
I think the first book is
where you get bits and piec-
es of yourself in. You need
to get it out of your system
before you can move on to
other writing. Many ask me
whether the protagonist in
the book is based on me. I
would say she is an amalga-
mation of bits and pieces of me and of
friends around me, a composite rather
than drawn from one person.
Was there any criticism that has
helped you as a writer?
I am always open to criticism. I like it
when people offer constructive criti-
cism. Yes, I have received feedback that
my sentences are too long, I tend to
ramble, there is too much of internal
monologue, too little plot. But you live
you learn.
Was there anything you learned in
the hard way while writing or pub-
lishing?

“Kiran Manral started out as a copywriter, moved into journalism and then
quit full time work to play mommy. She is one of the most popular
bloggers in India. She is also considered a ‘social media star’ on twitter by
the TOI and IBN Live named her as among the 30 interesting Indian women
to follow on twitter and among the top 10 Indian moms to follow on twitter
for 2013.Post 26/11, she founded India Helps, a volunteer network to help di-
saster victims post 26/11 and is part of core founding team behind Child Sex-
ual Abuse Awareness Month (www.csaawarenessmonth.com) and Violence
Against Women Awareness Month (www.vawawareness.wordpress.com).
I am always open to criticism. I like it
when people offer constructive criti-
cism. Yes, I have received feedback that
my sentences are too long, I tend to
ramble, there is too much of internal
monologue, too little plot. But you live
you learn.
What is your message to aspiring
authors?
Write everyday and read everyday.
Write from your heart and not for any
audience. Write what you feel and what
you think. If you write from the heart it
will connect to the people easily. If you
have faith in your book, then you have
many options like you can self-publish
your book or e-publish your book. Just
write and leave it to destiny.
So what are you doing these days?
I am working on my second book at the
moment. I am also doing a lot of issue
based writing. There just seems to be
too few hours in the day for all I need
to do, I guess I need to start prioritizing
my time better.

How did you got
interested in writing?
I’ve always been an avid
reader. I started with writing
countless letters to faraway friends in
school that were almost life-stories.
Most of them, I never ended up send-
ing. Then came the journal phase, then
a blog, then a column with a newspa-
per, and finally a book and now a sec-
ond with a third in the making. It’s been
a gradual progression.
Take us through the journey of
your first book, Live from London,
from getting the idea to getting a
call from publisher.
It was completely accidental. I just fol-
lowed a story that flowed, wrote a little
bit when my newborn slept and much
to my own surprise, actually finished it
five months later. As for the publishing
process, let me begin by acknowledging
that everything you’ve heard about the
process is true. It’s not without its share
of tribulations. One does have to go
knocking on publisher’s doors, put their
best foot forward and take everything
that follows in their stride. Luckily, I re-
ceived a contract in the mail from Rupa
& Co. within a few weeks of submitting
my manuscript. And the rest, as they
say, is history.
Tell us about your work as Direc-
tor, Business Intelligence and Ana-
lytics.
I work for an entertainment firm that
owns a couple of sports teams and pro-
motes concerts. Having worked there
for eight years, I’ve learnt a fair bit
about the business of live music and
sports. The work itself is heavily techni-
cal; managing a data warehouse of tick-
et buyers and finding patterns within
the data with advanced analytics. It’s a
immensely exciting indus
try to work in.
What about writing appeals to
you?
It’s how I unwind. Once I discovered
writing, I found it to be immensely sat-
isfying and very liberating. It provides
that delicate balance to the chaotic and
stressful urban life that we inadvertent-
ly sign up for.
When do you write?
I write when my neighborhood sleeps.
Only the chirping crickets are invited to
the party.
How often do you write?
I try to write a little bit every day but
most days I’m just staring at the screen,
typing a little bit and deleting a whole
lot.
Which are your favourite contem-
porary Indian authors?
Kiran Desai, Anne Cherian, Kunal
Basu, Upamanyu Chatterji, Karan Bajaj,
Amitav Ghosh, Anita Jain, and several
others.
Is there any book that you thought
you would have written better?
Books, I believe, just like any other art
form, are a manifestation of the writ-
er’s imagination, ideas, knowledge and
experiences. To say that someone

could do someone’s work better would
be utterly presumptuous, not to men-
tion unfair.
But there are several books I’d want to
rewrite either because I loved the plot
or the characters. For instance, I’d love
to rewrite the entire Sophie Kinsella se-
ries with an Indian protagonist. And all
of Chuck Palahniuk novels just to see if
I can come up with a fraction of his wit
and wackiness.
Which is the best and the harshest
feedback you’ve received from a
reader? Did either change the way
you approach writing?
I’ve received an entire spectrum of re-
actions on my first book. The good, the
bad and the ugly. One of the kindest
ones would have to be from a girl who
wrote in saying that she admired the
quality that I capture moments with
candid humour that often belies the
tribulations and pain beneath and that
she’d tried to incorporate that personal-
ly in her life. I thought that was so pre-
cious.
As for the harshest, a young boy wrote
to me after reading my first book, call-
ing it to a 200-rupee suicide option.
And I thought to myself, I can’t have my
readers dying on me. Jokes aside, that’s
when I’d realized that there lies a huge
responsibility on the author to deliver
something meaningful. Reading is an
extremely involved process. And when
the reader is so vested in your book,
you as an author must carry that ac-
countability of ensuring that the reader
gains something out of it.
Since my first book, I’ve spent a lot of
time learning the nuances of story-tell-
ing and personally, I think I’ve come a
long way as far as the craft is concerned.
Tell us something about your latest
book - Powerplay.
Powerplay is a corporate thriller set
against the backdrop of cricket. It’s a
heady cocktail of raw ambition, un-
wavering ideals, vengeful betrayal, con-
suming love, and notorious scandals.
Although corporate drama at the heart
of it, the book is also a breezy read in
parts and has plenty of entertaining
moments. There’s a wide cast of char-
acters and their stories laced with hu-
mour (even though I say so myself) all
throughout the book.
How long did it take you to write
Powerplay?
About two years. It wasn’t the easiest

book to write for me. I wrote the first
draft in a year, then rewrote it entirely.
Not to mention the countless edit cy-
cles. It’s been a real labor of love.
Is it about IPL?
It’s about a fictional cricket team set in
Ahmedabad. It’s more the acquisition
story of that team complete with love,
drama and scandals, rather than about
the actual game.
What was your reaction when the
IPL scandals emerged?
Just like everyone else, it took me by
surprise. It’s a bit naïve to think any
sport is completely clean but one does
not expect the filth to run so deep.
There are always going to be a few bad
apples but it’s especially sad and de-
terring to follow the game when it starts
at the top of the food chain.
What is your favourite sport?
I watch basketball quite a bit. I’m a huge
Lakers fan. And of course, cricket.
Any plans or timelines when are
you ready to crossover and write
full-time?
I’m not sure if I necessarily want to go
down that path. I wouldn’t have been
able to write Powerplay had I not been
working because I simply wouldn’t have
been exposed to certain situations. But
then again, I don’t even know what
I’m doing this Saturday, let alone a few
months down the line.
Do people mistake you for some
celebrity?
Not at all. It’s a good day if the postman
recognizes me.
Some words of wisdom for aspir-
ing authors?
Read a lot, write a little bit every day
and find a mentor or a ‘writing buddy’.
Bouncing off ideas with like-minded
individuals makes the process not only
bearable but also enriching and fun.
And if it doesn’t come naturally, don’t
force it.
Parinda Joshi is the author of Live from London (Rupa & Co., 2011) and
Powerplay (Fingerprint, 2013). More about the author at www.parindajoshi.
com.

Iam forty-one and strictly speak-
ing, not a ‘Young Adult’, being young
at heart at best. On the other hand, I
have written a book for young adults
and surreptitiously read YA books on a
regular basis - so here is my take on the
whole Young Adult (YA) thing.
To zero in on this target segment, let me
first go into what YA literature is not.
A separate category by itself, YA litera-
ture is not children’s literature. It is also
not literature targeted at people in their
twenties or thereabouts. So ‘Five Point
Someone’ for example, is not really a YA
book.
The world of YA Literature begins at
about 11 and ends at 18. It is indeed
a teenage world, but its issues need
not be. For once you turn eleven, how
quickly you embrace maturity and
adulthood is entirely up to you. More
than half (55%, according to Bowker
Market Research, who dig out infor-
mation for the publishing industry) of
Young Adult readers are technically
adult, that is 18 years or older, with the
largest segment of readers from the
30 to 44 years age group. So that stern
looking gentleman picking up a copy of
‘Inkspell’ isn’t buying it for his daughter,
but for himself. He is perhaps, not so
stern after all.
Young Adult literature talks to those of
us who are in a certain state of mind -
where we are beginning to fathom the
difference between our earlier respons-
es to the world’s stimuli and how those
responses are changing, now that the
world seems more complex. There is
personal judgement and an ability

to understand complexities that skewers
the earlier, simpler perspective and this
growth is an integral part of a Young
Adult story. The evolution of the central
character, his or her coming of age, and
the reader’s identification with it is one
of the main features of a YA novel.
What works across age groups for YA
books is that coming of age is universal
in its appeal - as all of us are constant-
ly growing. Sometimes we also like a
touch of pace, escapism and toilet hu-
mour along with it - even if we are over
40.
Therefore, ‘coming of age’ as a theme
is sometimes also packaged with other
popular YA genres such as adventure,
mystery, horror, fantasy, romance, slice
of life - because this is an age or a per-
sonality type (thinking of myself and
other adult readers of YA books) that
enjoys pace in its storytelling, if the
books are anything to go by.
Young Adult books are now braving
more serious territory: Siddhartha Sar-
ma’s ‘Grasshopper’s Run’ was a
success a few years ago. Ranjit
Lal has written about female
infanticide in his book
‘Faces in the Water.’ Now
Swati Sengupta’s ‘Guns on
my Red Earth’ is being eagerly
awaited from Red Turtle. It talks about
a young boy recruited by the armed
camps in Maoist West Bengal. Not that
serious YA books didn’t exist before this
- Catcher in
the Rye comes to mind. J.D. Salinger
hadn’t intended it for teenagers at all,
but it caught the fancy of the age

group and became perhaps the first
iconic YA novel. Given the fact that In-
dia has a burgeoning young population,
and that many adults read YA books,
publishing houses have woken up to the
growth potential of this segment and
are setting up YA imprints this year if
they haven’t done so already. Here are
the names to look out for: Duckbill,
an independent publisher, in a JV with
Westland; Inked, Penguin’s YA imprint;
Nova, from Scholastic; Young Zubaan
from Kali for Women;Red Turtle
from Rupa; and Bloomsbury
Spark for e-books. Each of these
publishers’ websites throw up an
interesting array of stories from
fantasy, to bittersweet tales of
teenage angst, teenagers braving
riots, translations of iconic teen
stories and zombie horror. What
is new is that the voices are
unapologetically grey and the
treatment is not pedantic or
preachy. These books talk about
their protagonist, not talk down
to them. The lives the children
live are not idyllic. Their
issues are today’s issues,
their lives the lives of
today’s world where the
virtual and the real are
increasingly mixed up.
In short, this is not
Enid Blyton. Some stories
that I look forward to reading soon
(I’m not reading any right now,
since I’m working on my second
book) - Jobless Clueless Reckless by
Revathi Suresh, The Facebook

Phantom by Suzanne Sangi, No Child’s
Play by Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay and
Karma by Cathy Ostlere. I read Ter-
ror on the Titanic by Samit Basu some
months ago and enjoyed it thoroughly
as well. I am sure there are other fantas-
tic ones that I haven’t touched upon. Do
look up the websites of the publishers
mentioned here and check out.
Some problems remain to be ironed
out. There were no literary festivals
catering to this age group until this
year. 2013 will see a YA segment in both
Bangalore and Pune Literary Festivals.
Perhaps more festival organisers will
feel encouraged by this to showcase YA
authors?
There is also the question of how to
reach out to the age group. Facebook
is off limits for many of them, so pub-
lishers are setting up virtual book clubs
where teenagers can interact with them.
Inked has an extremely interesting one,
Duckbill has just set up Duckbill Gang-
stas as well.
Stories catering to young adults have
been there always. Being a Bengali, I
remember every great literary writer
donning a YA hat and belting out ad-
ventures and mysteries for children:
Satyajit Ray, Sunil Gangopadhyay and
Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay - to name
but a few. This was partly because the
books sold well, had a steady readership
and allowed these very literary writers
a happy break from the heavy stuff (I
made up the last reason, but I suspect
it’s true). It looks like the world is wak-
ing up to this potential as well. James
Patterson and J.K. Rowling both got fa-
mous as YA writers first. As the market
in India grows, I expect many ‘literary’
authors will give in to their younger
selves.
JashSen is the author of The Wordkeepers, the first book of The Wordkeepers
Trilogy, and is currently working on its sequel, Skyserpents.Jash graduated
from Delhi University and IIM Calcutta and has worked and lived in India, US
and the UK, but most of all, in her own imagination. She also lives (alarming-
ly) more and more on Facebook, Twitter and ibnlive.in.com, where she writes
a blog.She is terribly fond of bourbon biscuits, bookstores and libraries and a
good whodunit on a lonely, rainy evening.

Lunches were always eventful at the
Pandey residence. That afternoon was
no different. Some debates, some ob-
servations, some jokes and some plans
as always. ‘Listen son, I have found out
the details. Its a superb deal – a steal
perhaps.’ ‘What is it Papa?’ ‘Its Happle
– The Happy Apple’ ‘Now what is that?’
‘It’s the local Apple juice – it sells like
hot cakes. I am going to start a business
selling those. Maybe I’ll reduce some
of your burden.’ ‘Thanks Pa, but there
isn’t such a need, why don’t you relax at
home, I will figure something out soon.’
‘Listen to me, its not a big investment,
hassle free trading, buy from the dealer
and sell it in the apartment complex,
and perhaps the park in the neighbor-
hood.’ Mom snapped ‘uff how long will
you be absurd? Why don’t you go inside
and write or read newspaper- some-
thing you do best’. ‘Don’t be negative,
don’t criticize me all the time’ Papa said
raising his voice. Mom went inside the
bedroom dismissing the comment.
‘So, as I was saying, I went and re-
searched the brand, and at Rs.10 a pack,
its not costly, and works wonders in the
summer’ Papa continued undeterred.
‘Listen Pa, just because I am going
through a tough phase at work, does’nt
mean we don’t have food to eat, its ok
– I will manage. Besides, I need you to
be healthy and fit – that will be a big-
ger support.’ ‘You are not understand-
ing my son. Its not such a complicated
thing. You see, I did a pilot project with
sandwiches earlier, remember, and that
was a learning experience. It taught me
that people feel thirsty, or more thirsty
than hungry. Ah – such a simple thing.
We can get started with 10 cartons.’
‘Yes but how would you do inventory
control, supply, deliver and what if it
does’nt work? What will you do with all
those Happy Apple cartons? ‘Oh they
will sell I tell you – people get thirsty
don’t they? But be careful not to share
this with anybody, I mean why attract
competition when we can rule the mar-
ket?’ Exasperated, Sameer Pandey, got
up and went to his room, leaving his
father alone in the dinning hall. ‘I don’t
get it, I think he’s shy, or maybe its his
ego, I’ll have to try and explain it to him
again, after all I am his father, if I don’t
help him, who will? I will have to show
it to him.’ That sunny afternoon Nirmal
Pandey, went out for a walk. Wore his
favorite red cap, took his walking stick,
and trotted out quietly while the house
was sleeping. He had decided to sur-
prise his son. He walked in the hot sun,
till he reached the local grocery shop.
Careful not to give away his business
secret, he asked ‘Errm how many Hap-
py Apple cartons do you have? ‘How
many do you want? ’the shopkeeper

retorted. Restricting his frown he asked
‘if I ask for 100 will you give me 100?’
The shopkeeper looked at him without
an expression. Mr.Pandey thought ‘this
guy is wily, he is trying to get my busi-
ness plan’ his forehead frowned. After
a brief moment of silence, he finally
spoke ‘Uh mm, actually we are hav-
ing a party at home, so let me call and
check’. The shopkeeper did not respond
again. Nirmal Pandey turned his back,
pretended to dial his mobile phone.
‘Hello, Hello who’s this, Sameer? Listen
son, how many people will come home
tonight?’ What? B-but what about the
rest? Hmm ok ok, now keep the phone’.
He turned around and said ‘give me 20
for now, looks like some guests dropped
out’. ‘How much will it cost?’ ‘Rs.15 but
I will give it to you at Rs10’ the shop-
keeper lowered his voice.
‘Oh really? ’he said, clearly taken aback.
‘But Mr.Pandey, since 20 cartons will
get too heavy for you, why don’t you
take these 2 in your hand, and I will
send the rest to your residence, the
shopkeeper said. ‘Ah that swine is try-
ing to cheat me, eh, but I am not falling
for that, I think he’s realized that he’s
making a mistake selling this to me at
Rs.10’ Nirmal Pandey smirked quietly.
‘Errm No, I will push it in the trolley,
he announced. The shopkeeper did as
he was told. Nirmal Pandey took those
cartons in the trolley from the shop and
headed towards the park. Nirmal pand-
ey walked along the roadside muttering
to himself along the way ‘This is good,
I got a good deal. Now I will show to
Sameer that all of these will sell in no
time –then he will realize my worth’.
Nirmal Pandey reached the park and
spotted a strategic location – the park
bench. He dragged the trolley and
parked it behind the bench and sat
down with an air of accomplishment.
He looked around, strained his neck
to find a pair of eyes he could connect
with. He only saw the security guard
and park in charge looking at him. He
chose to ignore them.
Nirmal Pandey was getting a bit wor-
ried. It was almost 5PM and there was
no sight of any customer. Some kids
played cricket in the distance and some
toddlers babbled with their nanies.
Just then a bunch of young boys walked
into the park with a football in hand.
They looked tired. Nirmal Pandey was
overjoyed – he knew he had found his
customer. He turned back to take a
glance at his business and adjusted his
shirt and cap quickly. ‘Boys come here,
he shouted. ‘What is it uncle?’ one of
them said. ‘How was the game?’
‘Oh it was great-we ran a lot and now
we are tired’‘and thirsty?’ Nirmal Pand-
ey interrupted.‘Yes yes, we are- do you
have something to drink?’ Nirmal Pan-
dey couldn’t believe his luck , ecstatic he
said ‘I have just the right thing for you
–but it is going to cost you money’ ‘Oh
uncle, we only have Rs.20 on each of us,
our playing allowance – will that help?’
Nirmal Pandey calculated mentally –
‘Rs.10 for each pack, add profit of Rs.5
and sell it for Rs.15 bucks. Bingo!’

He looked up and said ‘ah don’t worry
just pay Rs.15 and I will give each of
you Happy Apple juices’. Soon the car-
tons was empty and Nirmal Pandey had
earned enough money to go back and
talk to Sameer. He cleaned up the park
bench of wrappers and litter. Dragged
the trolley out of the park and walked
home upbeat with a spring in his stride.
It was 7PM when he reached home and
called out ‘Sameer come here my boy,
let me show you something’. Sameer
was standing in the corridor ‘Yes Papa
what is it?’ Nirmal Pandey took out a
bunch of notes from his pocket and
gave it to his son ‘here take this – and
guess where I got this from? My busi-
ness idea of selling Happy Apple juices
worked! Come sit here, let me tell you
all about it’ Sameer interrupted ‘Oh
Papa, please sit down first, relax and
I will listen. But first its time for your
medicine.’ Mrs.Pandey came out of the
kitchen and gave the medicine. Mr.Pan-
dey promptly obeyed and sat back on
the rocking chair. ‘Give me your cap
and stick, I will keep it safely, you might
need it tomorrow’ said Mrs. Pandey.
The rocking chair relaxed him and
slowly he closed his eyes.Seeing him
sleep Sameer said ‘Ma please be here,
and take care of him, I’ll be back soon’
Mrs. Pandey nodded with a hint of
sadness. ‘Thank you so much all of you
– here’s your money Ramu kaka, please
keep your happy Apple stocks handy
– and don’t overact’ ‘Oh you should’ve
seen me, I did just fine’ he said.
‘Bahadur and Pinto you guys need to
keep a closer watch – those boys were
playing cricket, the ball could hit him
no?’‘Arrey Saheb, we are there, has any-
thing happened? No ? Then don’t wor-
ry.’Sameer pursed his lips and said ‘Any-
ways here’s your money and be alert’
‘Thank you Sameer sir’ they said in
unison and left. ‘And Joobi – you better
look more convincing’ ‘Arrey Sameer
Bhaiya,I told you Tennis team would be
better, one does get thirsty after playing
those cross courts ? ‘Nothing can beat
football – that’s it. Here’s your money,
and next time pick up my phone a bit
early ok?’ ‘Yes Bhaiya’ Sameer smiled
with a lump in his throat. It was 5 years
since Nirmal Pandey had Alzheimer’s,
and he didn’t have the heart to break
the news to him.
“When somebody asked me what else do you do other
than work? I drew a blank. Its then I decided to venture
into a journey,doing something I’d never done before,at
least seriously. As I walked into the world of writing,I
realised the queque is quite long to be called an author
or a writer! So I try to observe and pen a few lines
whenever time and work allow a balance, because unlike
reality,writing fiction has to make sense!”

It has been over a year since I have
known him. I remember the day when
he walked into my life. The transition
had been so faint and smooth that
I hardly noticed it until too late. He
looked at me and smiled. There was
vicious look on his face. He knew I had
feared him like everyone and he en-
joyed it. Savoured every atom of it. He
knew he owned me and I couldn’t fight
him back.
Everyday I tried hopelessly to get away
from his grip. Cut ties and break-free,
but every-time he clamped on tight-
er and stronger. He had always been
possessive about his lovers and it just
clawed me. Each day that passed , he
took away a part of me away from me. I
had started fading and he was growing
stronger and his intentions more mali-
cious than ever.
I knew I couldn’t turn around. I had
been left with no choice but to be with
him till the end.. I cried each day and
night in anguish and despair, but he
just did not care. Rather he just smiled
calmly and whispered in a soft tender
voice that he loved me more than ever
and I made him grow stronger. He
could not imagine his life without me
and I couldn’t imagine mine with him .
One year three months and four days ,
today I have decided to make a decision
and end this painful relationship. I have
grown feeble and weak and though I
know that he will win this battle , I can
not bare the pain any longer. My body
cannot fight the tumor in me . My can-
cer may have control over my body and
life but I shall not let it continue . It
shall all end. I shall end it all .....
today!
“In her words - ‘I am a dreamer- the face of reality.
A thinker, My own philosophy.
A storyteller, A voice, an individual.
I’d like to be called player of words, illusionist, a story
spinner. Creating a world of imagination more real
than the reality.’

It was in the month of January. The
darkness cloaked the night in the ab-
sence of the moon. The winter fog
hovered freely, making it difficult for
even a person with perfect vision to
pierce through. The icy wind had al-
ready drawn the people towards the
comfort of their apartments and homes.
Nikita was busy turning the pages of
a book that she struggled very hard to
read. She felt very tired. Yawning, she
reached out to turn off the lamp. She lay
on her impeccably oval shaped bed to
catch some sleep. After an hour, when
she was in the deepest of her sleep, a
very soft push was made to the door
and a furtive figure entered the room.
Tiptoeing carefully, making sure not
to make any noise, the figure dragged
a pillow kept on the other side of the
bed. Nikita’s sleep was broken from the
disturbance by the intrusion. As she
turned to have a look, the figure placed
the pillow on her mouth, strangulating
her. Nikita’s almond eyes grew wide as
if they had seen a ghost. Gasping for
breath, she kicked her legs as high as
she could in the air. Help me, Help me!
She screamed in silence. Gasping for
breath, sweating heavily, she pleaded
for mercy. The vision was getting hazy
every single second due to lack of
oxygen. She could feel the numbness in
her upper limbs that began to spread.
She watched in dazed fascination as the
figure pressed the pillow hard against
her face, blocking every open passage
of air completely. Soon, the darkness of
the night took over her eyes, she no lon-
ger felt anything. The figure assembled
everything back in place in haste. It
fumbled a rope in the large black leath-
er bag as it prepared its escape from the
window at the backside.
The next morning came as a shock for
the Arora’s. The only daughter had been
brutally murdered in the darkness that
took over the moonless night. SSP
hamsher Singh, a person with medium
height, but ridiculously muscled had in-
tentionally taken over the case himself.
He was popularly known as the Sher-
lock Holmes of the east by his fellow
officers. He was a man with an attitude
of that of a sleuth, applying his skills
in everything that raised any form of
suspicion. He had solved several mur-
der mysteries, complicated or simple
efficiently and discreetly. With an eye of
that of an eagle, he was able to see what
others felt of no worth. “There is some-
one involved who is very close to the
family.” He mumbled as he picked the
pillow with which she was strangulated.
He neatly placed the pillow in a large
plastic bag. After all it was the murder
weapon, the only piece of evidence that
could help him to take on the culprit.
The extreme left corner of the room was
occupied by Malini, Nikita’s mother.
She was devastated. She could see the

reel of images that were vivid and alive.
She was in the kitchen, gossiping with
her, telling her that how important
she was to her and her late father. She
stood there, numbed with grief. In the
meanwhile, Shamsher had cleared up
the room with all the possible evidence
he could gather to catch hold the as-
sassin. The thing that made an itch in
his mind was a medicine named Al-
prax, a tranquilizer that was kept hid-
eously in a drawer of Malini’s room.
Why would she be taking Alprax? She
seemed normal. Shamsher also picked
a prescription in the name of Malini
Arora of doctor Yogesh, a clinical psy-
chologist and placed it secretly in the
bag along with a Silver Bracelet that he
found near the window of Nikita’s room
which seemed to belong to the assassin.
He moved towards a paralyzed Malini.
Though it was not the right time for
this, but he decided to let it be. With a
slight hesitation, he asked “Mrs. Arora
does someone else besides the family
members have the access to the door?”
The answer was as expected, a negative!
He again continued “Look Mrs. Aro-
ra, I have a strong feeling that it is the
work of an insider, someone close to the
family or….” He paused. It came as a
surprise to Malini. It was like a premo-
nition had come through. Controlling
her incessant tears she said softly “Or?”
“Or, someone very close to your daugh-
ter.” The room went silent. All he could
see was a cold stare of a fifty something
woman who had been given a shock.
For Malini, this indeed was a shock!
hamsher sat in a wide office space of
doctor Yogesh. He had a large clinic,
which was no less than a mini hospital
in its own. Soon he was joined by the
doctor himself. He was a tall man, with
slight grey hair, twinkling black eyes
and with a round face. Though occu-
pied by lot of mental cases, he seemed
distant from being a maniac. As he wel-
comed Shamsher, he came to his senses
to discuss the case with him. “Doctor,
can you please tell me about one of your
patients? Mrs. Arora” Shamsher asked.
“I am so sorry SSP, but I have an agree-
ment of confidentiality signed before I
begin my treatment. I can’t help you!”
The cherubic man that sat opposite to
him said. “But I can tell you simple be-
havioral aspect of her which might help
you sort out some clues.” Yogesh was
legally bound by the signed agreement
but this being an exceptional case in
which he could provide any sort of help,
he was up for it. “Malini got into deep
depression after she lost her husband.
Nikita was a small kid then, maybe
three or four years. Irrespective of forc-
ing by her relatives, Malini stick to her
decision of not remarrying but to bring
up Nikita on her own. Sometimes, she
gets aggressive to an extent that she
loses the control of her own senses.
That’s all I can tell you!” He said with
raised eyebrows. Shamsher frowned.
“Thank you Doc! I guess I should head
to the mortuary for the autopsy report
now. Thank you for the information.”
He strode out of the room. Shamsher
walked over to the hospital in which

the autopsy was being carried out. It
was a weird old, worn out edifice which
had cubicles, designed to diagnose,
alleviate, cure or bury the sick. The path
to the mortuary was nothing less than
a horror movie. But he had no effect.
He had seen many of them. Shamsher
barged into the office where the su-
perintendent sat. A man with salt and
pepper beard, slightly grey hair and
a paunch, sat on the other side of the
table. He was occupied by lot of files
and folders that covered every inch of
the table. Shamsher had a discussion,
which lasted for a short time, about two
minutes and left the room. What he
had expected was true, Nikita was two
months PREGNANT!
Malini intended to have a discussion
with Shamsher, for which he waited
eagerly. Among all the pieces of evi-
dence, only one thing, a silver coated
bracelet was a question. Till now all he
had in his mind was only two people
as the suspect, one with a faint doubt
was Malini and the other because of
whom Nikita was pregnant. But who
is that man? Malini couldn’t do the
killing as it would be very difficult for
her to execute the murder herself. “Did
you get the culprit?” Malini frowned.
“Your daughter was pregnant and I
don’t understand why you are hiding
the truth!” Malini’s jaw dropped. “This
can’t be true!” She lay on the couch
dumbstruck. The SSP sat on the couch
positioned opposite to her. He began
fumbling with the things which he
picked from Nikita’s room. One of them
was her personal diary. He had been
taught by her mother not to read some-
one else’s diary. With slight hesitation,
he opened it, hoping to find a clue to
lead to an apt decision. To his surprise,
a photograph dropped down from it.
He carefully closed the diary and picked
up the half folded picture in his hand,
unfolding it with utmost precaution just
not to tear off the fragile piece of paper.
Nikita was standing with Yogesh, a rare
picture taken about a few years back.
It appeared to be in captured in close
vicinity of his clinic’s one of the private
chambers. He was not that much sur-
prised at the cherubic face of Yogesh
but by a meticulous look at his wrist.
Bracelet! Looking at the picture with
blood shot eyes, he knew that he had
made his decision.
In his words - “I had a passion for writing since my
childhood days but was very much waiting for the
right time and right platform. The day I started my
blog was the time and the correct platform which
helped me a lot to evolve my writing skills. I love read-
ing and writing suspense/thrillers alongwith some po-
etry that reflects my inner self and my surroundings.”

Idecided to go to Delhi. A crowded
city, political seat and with better op-
portunities. I wanted to hide myself in
the crowd. I was sure that soon I will
be a shade of the painting of the city. I
boarded the very next Volvo to Delhi.I
was scared. This impulsive decision for
the sake of my self-respect appeared to
be the right one.
“I am not any helpless woman. I am
well educated. I can be self-indepen-
dent. I can start a new life. He doesn’t
love me anymore. He ruined my life. He
will be happy without me as it’s clear,
he doesn’t want me anymore.. He in-
sulted me in front of all families. I am
a strong modern woman – beautiful
and intelligent. What does he think of
himself? If I don’t work, If I don’t earn
money, I have no value? He can easi-
ly underestimate and insult me? I am
a mature woman and taking a mature
decision. Why should I care, if nobody
does? They could have called me when
I walked out! Nakul could have stopped
me! Nobody bothered? The celebration
was more important to them than my
respect?
... I did everything for the family, for
Nakul. I loved him so much that left
my career, my family. I always stood
by his side as per my promise.. but...”I
was talking to myself. It was a combat
between my mind and heart. Both of
them said the same thing. I am right,
undoubtedly.
I didn’t know where had I reach while
battling to myself but I felt, I left Punjab
behind. I could see the roads and the
trees whispering goodbye.
Now it was time to engineer the next
steps. Honestly, I was scared. To the far-
thest reach of my memory. I was travel-
ling alone for the first time, that too, out
of city, forever. I had cash and kind with
me. Luggage and valuable means of my
survival, nervousness on peak and inse-
curity at its best made me sweat in the
air conditioned bus.
I was conscious- ultra conscious and
tried my best to look normal and con-
trol my facial expressions. I decided
not to cry now and look confident.
I knew I could do it. For a couple of
hour I fought with myself and shifted
all chambers of my brain into working
mode.
I shuffled my contact list to find help in
Delhi. I was praying God to help me at
my worst phase. I had faith in Him.

I kept my options open, like a smart
lady I googled guest houses and places
to stay.
My mind choked when I saw the one
day rent approx five to eight thousand.
I didn’t want to take help of any of my
kith and kin, as such, not because of
the self respect or the sense of troubling
them but to avoid any legal trouble. I
was sure of the police procedures soon-
er or later. And I didn’t want to insult
my family as well, so I walked with the
guest house option.
My bus stopped at Karnal but I had no
appetite because I was in a tizzy. Petri-
fied and solicitous, I was busy in safe-
guarding the means of survival I had.
I wanted to go to the lavatory to take
a leak but preferred to be glued to my
seat. After the journey of six to seven
hours I reached Inter State Bus Termi-
nus – Kashmere gate.
As I stepped outside of the bus I was
surrounded by all auto rickshaw and
taxi drivers. I felt like a new animal in
the menagerie. Everybody was persuad-
ing me to hire his vehicle and they were
shrieking like vultures. I chose a skin-
ny driver who called me ‘Sister’. I was
over concerned about the safety of my
body and belongings. Since childhood I
had grown up listening the stories and
rumours about the brutal capital city.
Hence, I was supposed to be worried
and over conscious. My best possible
attempt of faking the confidence failed
and the Autowala asked “First time Dilli
aaye ho kya Sister?” (Have you visited
for the first time to Delhi, sister?) Dis-
combobulated, I said controlling
my facial expression, “Nahi, Kaafi dino
baad aaye hain!” (No, Visited after a
long time).
Meanwhile on the route of some Tuti
Chowk and Laddu Ghati Bazaar to the
guest house, I inquired about some
other guest houses and rent rooms, best
of his knowledge. He suggested me with
some weird names and I let that be.I
checked my phone for the GPS and my
heart skipped beats to see many missed
calls and messages from family and Na-
kul. I was scared.
I had no answers. I didn’t pick or called
After reaching the guest house I chose,
I switched off my phone. Identifica-
tion process took a few minutes and
soon I was in a small room with some
toiletries and towel. I thought nothing
and took a deep breath, closed my eyes
and after a while when to get fresh. In
bathroom, while bathing I cried. I cried
loud and in tears. I cursed Nakul for
breaking my heart and dreams. Tear-
jerked, homesick, broken heart, tired,
alone and hungry, I was shattered. I felt
like calling Nakul and fight with him. It
was a tug of war between my mind and
heart. One part of me was asking me to
call Nakul and fight with him. I want-
ed him to feel sorry for what he did. I
wanted him to apologize and beg for
my love. I wanted to hurt him and feel
the same pain, I felt.
The other logical part of me supported
me with reasons and female intellect.
What shall I tell him?

Where am I and why? With whom?
Because I knew him and the way he
underestimated me, he was sure that I
can never take such a bold step without
anyone’s help. What if he thought that
I ran away with some other man? I had
no positive answers to those questions.
Envy, jealousy, revenge and negativity
are some of the basic instinct of women.
We cannot help it. We prefer negative
thoughts at first place due to the feel-
ing of insecurity. My first motive was
to make him realize what he had lost.
Whenever I used to think of my efforts
and dedication, my eyes went wet. I was
haunted by the flashes of the moments I
spent with him. But then I had a whole
life in front of my eyes. I made my mind
firm and called someone for assistance.
The guest house had no food service
but a Dhaba nearby. It was getting dark
and I was tired. I was left with no ener-
gy, just wanted to eat and sleep.
I could decide later, what now and
what’s next...
My life began there..
Next morning I woke up with a head-
ache and morning sickness, I never
used to have. I switched on my phone
and it was a bombardment of messag-
es. Within a couple of minutes Nakul’s
number flashed on screen, my heart
again skipped a beat. When I woke up,
I searched him in the bed, like every
morning. It took no time to realize that
I was not in my comfort zone. I was
there, surrounded by those pale walls
with tampered white wash.I didn’t pick
his call and disconnected. A Message
flashed immediately on my screen;
“Where the fuck are you?” and that
message was the last ‘note of love’ we
shared. I broke the SIM card. That mes-
sage made me feel sick and supported
my hatred, how I was humiliated in the
family reeled in my mind.
The next thing I did was to check how
much money I had and what my plans
to survive in the capital were. I had
approximately sixty thousand cash
with me and some jewellery. I emptied
my account before leaving Ludhiana. I
needed a house because paying seven
hundred per day was not possible for
me, a new phone number and prior to
all a job. I could take more money and
jewellery from home and the fixed de-
posit my father gifted me at the time of
marriage but it could take days to com-
plete the government formalities and I
might be accused for theft of cash and
kind.I left my room to hunt for an inter-
net cafe. Nearby I found one. In an hour
or so I jotted down numbers of some
property dealers nearby Pahadganj area,
some call centres and anywhere a grad-
uate person was required at maximum
salary. I realized that day, the biggest
blunder of my life – relinquishing my
studies. Disconnecting the family and
friends and closing all options. I regret-
ted it. I was intoxicated by love...
I didn’t eat anything that day, conse-
quently felt exhausted by the night. I
had no resume in hand and above all I
had no experience. I was a married lady,
mere graduate, once upon a time was
an amateur blogger, no acquaintances,
and above all in a completely exotic city
where people are sceptical

to every polite gesture. As noted down,
I searched for some rent rooms but they
were asking for advance payment of
three months which was again, impos-
sible for me. Whole day Wandering and
hunting for work and shelter, at night
I was completely enervated. Commut-
ing in Delhi is very expensive, unlike
Ludhiana, here at first they never go by
meter, and then they choose the passen-
ger of their desired destination. Public
transport is always crowded and God
knows why people are in so much hur-
ry. Thankfully there was an old man,
probably the father of the owner of the
guest house I was staying. After three
days of struggle I couldn’t arrange any-
thing for me and this guest house was
charging heavy. I was completely bro-
ken in first few days. Emotionally shat-
tered and physically exhausted. The old
man asked me for how many days I was
going to stay, probably his experienced
eyes read my troubles and I shared my
problem with him. I declared myself as
a widow, to survive in the society. I had
to, for certain obvious reasons. That old
man asked me to be the receptionist in
the same guest house till I find some
good job. He agreed to provide me food
and shelter.Well, what to say, officially I
was a receptionist but I used to do ev-
erything. Early morning I had to clean
all the rooms, mostly supervise the
boys while cleaning the rooms, then the
kitchen, sometime I used to make tea
for everyone when Munna was out for
some work.
For a couple of weeks I survived there.
The guest house had an old desktop at
the reception counter with no inter-
net connection. I sometimes, used to
fix the dial up connection to send my
resume to different companies, luckily
it worked and they never got to know
about it. I made a fake Facebook ac-
count to know the whereabouts of Na-
kul and to stalk him, but till I was at the
guest house, he didn’t accept the friend
request. Every night I used to cry and
miss my family and the pain of leaving
them was unbearable. I missed Nakul
the most. He was everything to me. I
lived for him. I had no idea about the
families. How are they coming up with
the situation? And the feeling, the con-
cern for Nakul was consistent.
Did he miss me? I miss him at every
action I do, while I eat-sleep-breath.
Did he feel sorry for losing me? Was
there a big mess at home? Police and
interrogation? Or they just didn’t both-
er? What if Nakul was happy that I
left? Had he started dating some other
woman? Did he miss the food I used to
cook for him? I loved him. Did he miss
my love? My presence? My body? Did
he miss his Tappi? All these questions
haunted me every night and my health
started sinking day by day. My Morning
sickness and mood swings increased.
Luckily one day I got a call from a pri-
vate limited firm. They wanted a stu-
dent counsellor cum office assistant, I
had no option and I joined the so called
company. They agreed to pay me twenty
thousand with travel and mobile allow-
ances , which was then sufficient for
me. From old Delhi to south Delhi it
was a journey of more than an hour,

metro and bus took the same time. In a
month I at least got successful to know
the travel route of Delhi. I was trying
hard to drag my life on the track. I was
apparently stoned. My only motive was
to survive in the ocean. At times, I used
to make anonymous calls to the land-
lines of both of my homes, just to listen
to their voices. I could feel the desper-
ateness in my mother’s voice every time
she picked up the phone, expecting to
be her daughter. I used to cry a lot after
this. I missed my father and his teach-
ings, I wished to listen to him then and
pursue my studies, My brother must
be dealing with social tantrums. These
things made me helpless and weak. I
decided to shift to some nearby place
in south Delhi, too much expensive
area and out of my reach. By the grace
of God, I made some good friends in
office and had a female boss, for them
I was an orphan widow. Mrs.Rituparna
was a kind lady of Mid-Fifties. she felt
herself connected to me because she
was also a widow. She had a son of my
age who owned the company. I found
one room set some nearby area that
sucked half of my salary. Everything
was going rapid, too fast. Within a
month I had a job to survive and a shel-
ter to sleep at night. But I was alone and
shallow.
Honestly, if I say, I hated my life and ev-
ery night I used to think of committing
suicide, but I was coward to face death.
Delhi is like a wolf, it is not a female
but a pervert male. How to explain
the feeling I used to get when the men
touched me in buses and metro, hiding
under the shield of “crowd’? They were
ready to gander through my half sleeves
if they can take a glimpse of my armpit
or my undergarments. I hated it, it was
a feeling of disgust, and I hated my own
body for being a woman. Occupied in
the struggle and ebbing health I didn’t
pay attention to my cycles. I skipped it
for a month. I ignored it considering
the stress but when it continued to the
second month and the nausea and gid-
diness alarmed me for a trouble. I was
mortified. I prayed for negative results
but as designed by the destiny... I was
pregnant.
... what happens next? read it in our
next issue...
“Born and nurtured in at a scholastic family in Delhi,
Himadri studied English Literature from Lady Shri
Ram College, University of Delhi. Under her penname
“Himmilicious” she has published several EBooks on
Contemporary Erotic Romance and currently working
on her debut erotic romance in print version”

Ihave been reading a lot of debut au-
thors lately. Some of them are good and
most of them are not so good. Not try-
ing to discourage anyone here but after
reading some of the books, I felt like,
writing a book has become a fashion
more than a passion these days. Still,
whenever I pick up a book by a debut
author, I keep my prejudices and expec-
tations aside and try and sail through
the book and The Homing Pigeons by
Sid Bahri lived up to my expectations in
every possible way.
I bumped into the author at Nehru
Place some 3-4 days back while he was
getting some work done related to the
book only. We chatted for some time
and I promised him that I am going
to be there at the launch of the book. I
went to the launch, liked the way it was
conducted along with a music launch
by Rishikesh, the band (I quite liked the
songs, listen to them here) but the only
turn off of the evening was the emcee,
sarcasm is something I don’t appreciate
and don’t entertain either.
Well, coming to the book, I think the
best thing about The Homing Pigeons
is the structure of the book and the
way the stories of Aditya and Radhika,
the protagonists of the book have been
narrated. The way the characters have
been built right from the beginning till
the end have been handled with utmost
care. I personally felt that the book is
quite predictable, the title of the book
also gives away what is going to happen
in the book, but the ending would defi-
nitely take you by surprise.
Aditya after losing his job due to reces-
sion of 2008 is clueless about what to do
and where to go. That’s when he meets
Divya at one of the bars of Chandigarh

and his life takes a U-turn and he starts
doing something that he had never
imagined in his wildest dreams. Radhi-
ka, with a not so stable childhood,
stands out and turns herself into a ca-
reer oriented woman, but succumbs to
her parent’s wishes and makes a mess of
her life.
The way lives of Aditya and Radhika
intersect in the book time and again is
what kept me hooked to the book. Al-
ternate chapters narrated by Aditya and
Radhika made this book gripping and
unputdownable. Though, there were
times, when I had to turn a couple of
pages back to understand what exact-
ly is happening because the narrative
keeps shuttling between past and pres-
ent. I personally liked the way Radhi-
ka’s part has been narrated in the book.
The emotions have been well expressed
through words and you empathise with
Radhika.
I must congratulate author Sid Bahri
here for putting up a book which is easy
to read and is riveting. His writing is
simple and relatable. Anyone and ev-
eryone can read the book and the best
part is the story will make you turn
pages, which is what I personally like
about a book. It should force you to
turn pages. Pick up The Homing Pi-
geons by Sid Bahri if you are travelling
or as your weekend read, it is worth giv-
ing a shot.
“Yatin Gupta had always loved reading but recently he
realised how much he is passionate about it. A marketing
person by profession, he reads 3-4 books in a week.“

It was the title of this book that fasci-
nated me to the nth degree; it happens
every time I grab a book on some royal
theme, and above all, as it was the story
of revenge, it had to be intriguing, and
it is, indeed, up to its last page. It is a
story of barbarism, depravity, and sa-
dism, inflicted by man on man, under
the pretext of religious faith.
First Impression: Read the very first
line and you know that the main pro-
tagonist, Princess Darshana Kamya
Kathodi, is already dead. Well, it disap-
pointed me a bit, as I wasn’t expecting
it and that too so soon. It was now clear
that her death would be avenged by
someone else, later in the story. Million
thoughts were hovering over my mind,
but you can’t judge a book by its first
page; after all, who knows what was go-
ing on in the writer’s mind while pen-
ning down the story.
Setting: The backdrop of the story is
the Yehoor hills that are surrounded by
dense jungles. These are inhabited by
Kathodi tribals and ruled by Princes
Darshana. The year is 1545 A.D., when
Portuguese armies have been sent by
King John III to convert the native peo-
ple into Christians.
Development of Theme: A whale of a
difference in the two religious faiths
and the conflict arising out of that is
the main theme, and it has been em-
ployed very skilfully. While conversion
to Christianity is the main motive of
the Portuguese army and the mission-
aries, the native people are dead against
it. This results in the two sides locking
horns. This lays down the setting for fu-
ture developments: brutality and sadis-
tic practices adopted by the army men,
death of the princess, and her return as
a spirit to take revenge.
Character Delineation: It is from their
style, mannerism, and reaction to dif-
ferent situations that we come to know
about the characters. Take, for instance,
Brigadier Antonio: it is clear from his
well- groomed attire and flashy pride in
his smile that he belongs to the urbane
and the polished class. His urgency to
earn promotion is clear from the way he
stoops to act beneath himself to achieve
his end. On the other hand, Joseph or
Govind Laxman Prabhu is a rustic man,
as is seen from his garb. He does not
think twice before giving up his reli-
gious belief to get monetary gains.
The Bishop though seemingly holy, is
not averse to the torture inflicted on
tribesmen to have the conversions

done. The 3-dimensional traits are ex-
hibited by the protagonist, and this
renders beauty to the story.
Style: The author has adopted a
third-person narrative style to carry the
story forward. No complex vocabulary
has been used and sentences are simple
and short. His use of Marathi lingo at a
few places is justified.
Plot: A gripping story that moves at a
good pace and keeps the readers glued
is why I would recommend this book.
It is divided into chapters, with many
of them further divided into parts. The
plot runs in almost a linear fashion, so
there is hardly any chance for the reader
to get confused. From the first forced
conversions of the natives of Yehoor
hills to the supernatural fight between
the Bishop and the Princess, the story
transgresses nowhere. The unpredict-
ability factor makes the story meatier
and does not let you put down the book
before you are through it. When the
spirit of the Princess makes a hell out
of the lives of Braganca and Joseph, the
reader is under the impression that it
would be a win-win situation for her.
Climax: The best thing about the book
is its climax that makes you damn curi-
ous. And towards the end, it floors you
out and out. You are perplexed won-
dering what’s going to happen now and
who is going to win.
Elements of Supernaturalism: The sto-
ry, somewhere in the middle of the
plot, takes a celestial turn, as is clear
by the mentioning of the supernatural
elements like cloud 1777333999, the
winged blood that intimidates enemies,
the divine soul of the princess and her
ability to change clothes and walk on
water. The transcendental happenings
continue till the end.
What the Author is Trying to Convey:
He tries to convey the hypocrisy and
fanaticism that lie behind one’s religious
faith. It is indeed hypocritical how
Bishop, a staunch evangelist, has many
layers in his character. On one hand,
he is against the merciless killings, yet
he allows it all to happen in order to fix
his place in heaven. It is ironical that he
hires a pagan priest to carry out the ex-
orcism, while he abhors all pagan prac-
tices. On similar lines, the Christian
army asks the natives to seek peace by
surrendering to Christ, but it does not
take them a second to turn bloodthirsty.
For them, it is totally justified to rape
women, mutilate organs, and kill at the
drop of the hat, if it is to be done in the
name of religion and God.
Anuradha reviews classics, romantic comedies, mys-
tery and thriller, in short books of all genres. She
latches on to books which has tinge of romance.

June2013

Recommended

Recommended

More Related Content

What's hot

What's hot (20)

Similar to June2013

Similar to June2013 (18)

Recently uploaded

Recently uploaded (20)

June2013