Monday, November 30, 2020
Sunday, November 15, 2020
Shaurya Oberoi hates me the moment he sets his eye on me. I start hating him even before that.
He is the estranged husband of my client, Arya, and I am here to fight her case. I challenge him bluntly that he needs to accept the terms demanded by Arya or rot in jail.
Then one morning I wake up with broken arms and limbs in his hospital bed, and apart from being my client’s husband, he is also my doctor now. I hate how easily he reads what lies beneath my relentless anger… but then sometimes I love it. I hate how his charismatic presence makes me feel, and how his absence affects me. I am in danger of falling for a man whose marriage I am supposed to save.
But there is more to risk than my heart and my sanity. There’s my case. And I am forced to question, is it destiny or a well-planned conspiracy?
“Women don’t cheat, men do.” I looked at him, “You know what? All men are bastards.” My voice was edgier than intended and I am sure my face was fuming.
He stood still for a while as if I had thrown boiling water on him. Then he began shaking his head. “You are good to nurses and bitches to male attendants. Yesterday they were arguing about it. The nurses couldn’t stop praising you and the male attendants couldn’t stop cursing you. At that time, I couldn’t understand it, but now I do.”
“What?” What did it have to do with what we were talking about?
“It seems like your war is not against crime; your war is against men.”
His sentence punched me straight in the gut. But before I could respond he walked closer, bent down a little and stared at me with…disgust?
“What?” my brows merged, and my nose crinkled.
“It seems like you didn’t get to vent out your anger at the right place.”
“What do you mean?” I stiffened.
He bent a little more until his eye level matched mine, his voice measured, “What did he do to you to create so much hatred?”
A moment of blankness reigned before the full force of his words acted like acid on my soul. When his gaze shifted to my hand, I realised the bedsheet was crumpled in my tight fist, I immediately left it. My body had gone strangely stiff. I tried to relax, but it came out as a release of breath.
“So much hatred can only be the outcome of so much love,” his pitch toned down, “I know that. I have been there.” his voice softened.
I wanted to shout at him and wanted to tell him to shut up, but my words dried on my throat. My frustration shot to a new level and I just wanted to walk away, like every time I did when I had to avoid confrontation. I tried to pull out the IV tube, but he held my hand in time.
His grip was tight, and his tone restrained when he spoke, “It shouldn’t be removed like that. But once you are out of here, go and vent out your hatred in the right place, that will help you. I was also hurt by someone I loved, someone I trusted, though I didn’t get the privilege to keep it private. You are the best witness, not only a witness, but a partner in crime of the ones who hurt me. But do you know why I don’t loathe the whole female species? Because I have vented out my anger at the right place.”
“That got you to court?” I hissed, jerking away his hand.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t carry as much hatred in myself.” He straightened to his monstrous height.
“What about the world that hates you?”
He pushed his hands in his pocket and his voice was calm, but determined, “I damn care. I can look in the mirror and recognize the man in there.”
His statement unfurled something inside me. A small conversation I have every day with the woman on the other side of the mirror.
The woman I don’t recognize anymore. The woman whom I fail to connect with anymore.
Her readers define her writing as intense, though she dreams of writing a breezy read someday. She has searched more baby name websites to find names of her characters than she did to select the names of her kids. Sometimes she talks to her characters more than she talks to real people. But believe me she isn't crazy; she is just a writer.
Thursday, November 12, 2020
Through His Eyes: A Short Story
Genre: Contemporary Drama
Blurb: Meera Bhatt's upbringing had been outsourced ever since she was born. Through his Eyes is a narration of her journey from a toddler to an adult. She reflects on how her helper taught her to distinguish between right and wrong without speaking a single word.
'Through His Eyes' is a lovely, emotional short story.
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Friday, November 6, 2020
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Mythology, Folklore
The eternal dance of attraction, lust and love has been going on since time immemorial.
The divine apsara Menaka descends to Earth at Indra’s behest to distract the sage Vishwamitra from the penance that would bring him unimaginable powers. Menaka succeeds in bewitching Vishwamitra, but her actions are destined to have dire consequences for both.
Eons later, their story is set to repeat itself.
Poorva has always played by society’s rules and ideas of decorum. But what happens when her own loved ones betray her in the worst way imaginable? Does she still have to remain bound by their rules?
Rudra plays with power and people like they are pieces on a chessboard. He has no qualms about indulging his desires, be it money or women, but is determined not to be bound by either.
What happens when these two diametrically opposite souls are brought together by fate?
In the game of power, lust, greed and betrayal, some win and some lose. But are there any winners or losers in the game of love?
Like Menaka and Vishwamitra, are Poorva and Rudra too destined to see their story end in tragedy? Or will the divine power prevail?
Mumbling an apology, she sat up straight.
“It’s dinner time. You can sleep in the bedroom after dinner.”
“Yeah, it’s just behind our chairs,” he said stretching his legs.
“No, no. I’m fine here.”
“You are my guest, it’s for you.”
“No, no. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
The flight attendant brought their dinner putting an end to the debate. She was surprised when the attendant brought another tray that had champagne cooling in a silver container with all the paraphernalia.
“I thought you didn’t take alcohol,” she couldn’t help but comment.
“Sometimes I do. This is an occasion which calls for a toast, don’t you think?”
“When others are doing all the thinking for me, I have stopped applying my brains.”
He chuckled and shook his head, “You know, I sometimes get the feeling you are more angry about my taking control of the events than anything else.”
She spooned the chicken curry on her plate refusing to reply. The food was awesome, and she was hungry.
“Isn’t that so?” he asked goading her again.
“I’m angry about everything. Every damn thing and every damn person.”
“I think you are angry with yourself too.”
“Oh really! Care to elaborate?”
“There are two reasons. You have been a good girl all your life. You thought that was the best thing to do, but you got nothing out of that. And now forbidden things are appealing to you, which goes against your first philosophy, so you are angry all the more.” He opened the champagne with a pop and poured the sparkling liquid into two flute glasses. He had taken off his coat and rolled up his sleeves.
“Forbidden things are appealing to me!” The blood flow accelerated in her veins at the sight of his hands and broad wrist. He had beautiful long fingers like those of an artist.
“Yes, didn’t you enjoy rehearsing and performing for the show?” He handed her the glass and clinked his with hers. “Aren’t you enjoying this meal with me high up in the sky?”
“Hats off for turning the argument around and making it about me and absolving yourself for the entire mess.”
“It is not a mess and I’m just the instigator. In fact, I have done you a favor. I have taken you out of your boring life and given you a chance to enjoy the way you deserve.”
“Wow!” She chuckled, actually enjoying herself.
He went absolutely still, then leaned towards her and said softly, “You deserve the best, Poorva. You are a very nice person and should get everything you want from life.”
The air was thick with undercurrents as she looked into his sincere eyes. The brown specks in his black eyes glowed with goodwill and admiration. He came closer and glanced at her lips, then the spell broke and she turned her attention back to the flute in her not-so-steady hand.
“That was a nice thing to say,” she muttered.
“You are welcome.”
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Tuesday, November 3, 2020
Shantha is much sought after for her tarot card readings on love, but can’t seem to help her own love life with a string of broken relationships behind her. Now, sparks are flying between her and a sexy bartender but will this relationship fizzle out too?
Young professionals Nilima and her husband are so besotted with each other, they give the word ‘soulmate’ a complex. Theirs is a match made in heaven…till tragedy strikes.
The Magician is a heart-warming story of these three dynamic women as they discover the meaning of true love through loss and longing.
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