I played hopscotch as a child. And, as a adult too I have retained the ability to leap from one situation to another.
In this blog, you will read primarily about books, stories and their creators
First steps
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Hi!
I always have a had a lot to say and write. This is just a different medium. Hope it works for me.
i am disappointed that theres not enough to read in this blog...u r a marvel at irony, did you know that? wasting urself in the company of fat suckers... ;)
'There was nothing wrong in it,' Dada Bhai said, his head bent towards the cold, unyielding floor. 'Sir?' asked Tapan, who had followed him out, just as he had ushered him in personally. 'A boy and girl loved each other. There was nothing wrong in what Sanaz did. Love. That is what is halal for me.' Valmiki would not be contained, she knew, whenever the news reached him. He would rage within. Waste away in the cavity of his chest. She needed to bundle up all her nerve and pack it inside her. Convey to him soundlessly that he was fortunate to be loved for two years. Two years! An eternity for someone who had not got two whole hours of it in her life. 'A whiff of rosewater is enough...' On Makar Sankranti when the kites soar high, Sanaz' wings are brutally clipped. She is found dead in her room and what follows is a trail of questions hiding violence in their midst; of corrosive human behaviour. The ugliness and degenerate behaviour of the many a char
Ghalib goes detecting When presented with 'What if?', the 'scenario' conjures up numerous possibilities making it an interesting proposition to delve in. What if Mirza Ghalib was a detective? Isn't this enough to hook a reader? We bet so. Thus it is with great interest that we began reading Murder at the Mushaira , and we were not disappointed. Raza Mir, the author, toyed with the possibility of envisioning Ghalib as a detective for nearly 15 years. What we get in Murder at the Mushaira is not a racy whodunit, but more than a peek into the life and times of Ghalib, the Mughal court, the nobility and the sepoys who tried to overthrow the East India Company. The novel is set against the backdrop of First War of Independence and it begins at a point when the 'night is too silent' and ends with a gunshot with the horse rider thrown away from his mount. Who is the horse rider and what is his mission? At that time, Shahjahanabad is a city brewing with tension, in
Every morning we wake up to doom and gloom -- the unseasonal rainfall, the floods, the drought, disappearing mangroves, urban forests being mowed down, the dip and the sudden rise in temperature and the illnesses that come with it. What is the world coming to? Can we put a stop to it? Perhaps; for the answer lies within us. In contrast, Iora’s world seems radiant – the trees are tall, the woods are deep, and so colourful with greens and blues, talking birds and animals. Why not? She lives in Twitterland, a hidden rainforest, with hardly any communication with the outside world. But you see the jungle is also doomed, as Iora discovers. The evil forces are dominant and her father’s life is in danger. She has to quickly track down the Five Angels and elusive Spirit of Jungle and get them to meet at Scar-faced lake, on a moonless night. For the first time in her 11 years, Iora steps out of Twitterland, but she is not alone. A dwarf Beetle and her friend-rival, Owlus keep her compan
Yeah.. it will work for sure!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeletei am disappointed that theres not enough to read in this blog...u r a marvel at irony, did you know that? wasting urself in the company of fat suckers... ;)
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