Wednesday, April 15, 2009

SMS Frenzy

From : Major Rathore
Date: 14.04.2009
Time: 05:30 am
The book is out. Buy. Spread the news

From: Capt. Shivendra Pratap Singh
Date: 14.04.2009
Time: 05:31 am
Yes Sir.

From: Capt. Shivendra Pratap Singh
Date: 14.04.2009
Time: 05:34 am
Major Rathore’s wife’s book is out. Instructions: Buy and spread d word

From: Capt. Raghavan Reddy
Date: 14.04.2009
Time: 05:36 am
Mrs. Major’s book is out. Buy. Ask ever1 to buy.

From: Cdt. Shivkumar Sharma
Date: 14.04.2009
Time: 05:47 am
Major’s wife’s book out. Buy one copy for me too.

From: Rohit
Date: 14.04.2009
Time: 5:55am
WTF?! Why r u msging at 6 in the morn! Hit the bed dude!

From: Cdt. Shivkumar Sharma
Date: 14.04.2009
Time: 05:58 am
Just spread d news yaar

From: Naina
Date: 14.04.2009
Time: 06:07 am
Up so early? Sure will check the book out. What’s it called?

From : Rohit
Time: 06:15 am
Abbey saale book ka nam toh bataa

From: Cdt. Shivkumar Sharma
Date: 15.04.2009
Time: 06:20 am
Wat’s da nam of da book sir

From: Capt. Raghavan Reddy
Date: 14.04.2009
Time: 06:23 am
Sun book ka naam pata hai kya?

From: Capt. Shivendra Pratap Singh
Date: 14.04.2009
Time: 06:25 am
Beg your pardon sir, didn’t catch the name of the book.

From: Major Rathore
Time: 06:30 am
You took an hour to realize you didn’t know the name of the book, captain?

Friday, April 10, 2009

Excerpts from Knots and No Crosses

Chapter 4 : Flowers and More


...As he stood at the florist, eyeing the array of bright flowers, his confusion multiplied. Out of habit, he headed towards the crimson roses. Almost all the women in his life, who had mostly been single, had invariably been flattered when he had presented them with a bouquet of red roses interspersed with a sprinkling of white nameless dots of flowers. They could not stop gushing over the thoughtfulness behind the gesture and always felt a little overwhelmed by this romantic streak in him.

The old lady who owned the store recognised him and stooped to arrange the bouquet he had favoured all along.

“Nein, Danke!” he stopped her with his no thanks.

“Nicht diesesmal!”

Not this time.

He remembered a long discussion he had with Max about a year ago, when he had just met Nati. They had been discussing why red roses were considered as a gesture of undying love or a tribute to romance. Both of them were convinced that it had to do with the colour red, which signified a burning desire or passion or the thrill of an adventure which brings along with it, a sense of danger. It had however nothing to do with the rose itself. They were convinced that there were flowers prettier than the rose, flocking the florists these days. But it had to be red roses, because Shakespeare or Napoleon Bonaparte had created historical romances using a red rose. So for the joy of a romance rich with history, girls still craved red roses, hoping their mere presence, would add a touch of mystical magic to their very urban romances.

After discussing at length and establishing the unshakeable position of red roses as the symbol of romance, it would be churlish to present them to his wife. He was positive, Nati being herself, would swoon over the flowers, but he did not want to offend Max, who would be doing a mental revision of the very same discussion, which had just crossed Akkie’s mind.

Roses were definitely out.

So if not roses, then what? The Red Dahlias looked very pretty sitting there inviting to be picked. While they were not as romantic as the roses, they were also not as expensive. He was visiting them with a very expensive bottle of wine. He really could not team them up with not-so-expensive Dahlias! Though Max would never notice the difference, Nati would sure point it out to him in a post-dinner cosy conversation.

She would snuggle up to him and say, “I don’t know, I don’t think Akkie really has good taste in flowers! Or maybe he was just trying to balance out his pockets!” And she would giggle as if it did not matter.

Akkie could still live with the knowledge that Nati thought he had no sense with flowers, but he could not live thinking that she had classified him as some stingy Indian.

Dahlias wouldn’t do.

He once again included Roses in his thoughts. Maybe Red Roses were out, but he could see a sprinkling of beautiful pink roses. He also noticed that two people had walked in after him, given him curious looks as he stood there eyeing the flowers, made their decisions, had their flowers wrapped and walked out. What did pink roses signify?


Of course, he could make up a million things right there on the spot. But how would he explain them to Nati or Max? And in the absence of his explanations, pink roses looked like a thoughtless act. Like something he picked in a rush to get to their place and hadn’t paused to give much thought to. And he didn’t want to offend the new bride with a thoughtless gift.

Pink roses were out.

He put his hands on his hips and exhaled loudly, causing some of the blossoms closer to him to stir in their long vases. He looked around seeking help, not knowing who would actually be able to help him with this dilemma.

“Need help?” she asked

He turned around to face a complete stranger. Her rosy complexion complemented her jet black eyes, highlighting her Indian origins. Her hair was slightly wind blown and hung in careless curls around her shoulders. She was smiling at him, an open smile which said she genuinely wanted to help.

He glanced quickly at his watch, he didn’t want to be late for dinner, Max was very keen on punctuality. But he didn’t want to miss out on a chance with a conversation with this seemingly beautiful Indian in the strange city of Munich.

“Getting late?” she enquired still with a smile, noting his gesture.

“I need to pick flowers for a two-week-old bride. A good friend’s wife actually,” he said welcoming both her conversation and her help.

“Ah! And red roses are too romantic, yellow a little confused, pink insignificant, dahlias and gerberas look inexpensive, carnations don’t quite make the mark…” she paused in her speech, cocked her head and looked at him, “How am I doing so far?”

He laughed. Not because he was expected to, but because she really made him laugh.

“I am not sure I know so many flowers,” he confessed, “But you are spot on, on the confusion bit of it.”

She walked him to a section of the store and began plucking some flowers from the vase and grouping them together.

“Pick orchids,” she suggested, “They are beautiful. They are a sign of respect. They say I admire you because you stand out from the rest, just like me. They say I know you are tough, just like me. They say you don’t deserve a mere rose or a lily or something fancy, you deserve something more, something which shows a strength of character. You deserve me.”

She stopped and handed him a very elegant bouquet of blue orchids, laced with a spattering of green and yellow tiny flowers. They did look beautiful. He was mesmerised. He looked from the flowers to her; she was looking at him with an expectant smile.

“They are perfect!” he exclaimed and walked to the counter to have them wrapped. She loitered near the counter, picking some perfectly white lilies and bright orange carnations.

“Do the orchids really signify all that?” He asked still enveloped by the magic of her words.

She laughed, “To me they do. Every flower speaks something to the woman you gift it to. So no matter which flower you pick, it all depends on the woman…”

She moved further away to gather some button roses to add to her collection. On an impulse he picked up a purple orchid from a vase nearby and paid for it. On his way out, he stopped by her side and tapped her shoulder.

Offering that single bulb of purple orchid to her, he said, “This one’s for you!”

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Breaking the Silence

It's not me to be silent, especially for this length of time. Unless and until I have completely and wholeheartedly agreed to say goodbye to blogsville for good. But I could never do that! I could never say goodbye to blogging. I could never say farewell to writing!

So what then, has kept me away from the one thing that I love doing the most?Why, the thing I love doing the most, of course! Sounds a little mad I know. But these past months I have been writing. Actually I have been editing what I had already written in the earlier months. And editing, requires devoted attention.

Why was I editing, you ask?

Because, I am getting my first ever book published!

Yes! You heard me right! Besides being an avid blogger, I am now going to be a published author too!! Isnt that sweet?

And if you have liked what you have been reading here, you must read the book, which hits the stands end of next week!

Does this mean I wont write here anymore?

Of course not!

It means now that I have enough of time on my hands all over again, I am going to be back to writing like always before!

What's the book called? - Knots and No Crosses

Why? - Read the book and you'll know

What's the book about?

The wave of ‘feminism’ has swept over the world and empowered women to shout out from rooftops. They are forever harnessing attention by drawing the mind towards a range of problems starting with PMS, labour pains and now the marital market. The marital market is unfair on the women of today!

Every single time I have read a book about a thirty something single woman warring with the pressures of an Indian prejudiced marital mind set, I have wanted to scream, “STOP!” The marital expectations of an Indian society do not limit themselves to the gender. A thirty four year old male.could also be labeled a ‘thirty something single man’ vexed with his family for goading him into marrying.

So I decided to write about it. I decided to write about, how when it comes to relationships and weddings, life really isn’t all that simple for anybody, male or female. I decided to start with writing about a wedding.

Sneak Peek

"The woman he had no intentions of loving, but who he did love, hopelessly. The woman he had no intentions of dating, but had ended up committing himself to. The woman who had always been four years older than him, but realized it only when she was about to hit London for a PG course.
The woman who had gotten into the car without looking back once, as he stood there on the empty streets outside the institute nursing a broken heart.
Patty, the woman who was today married to some investment banker and a mother of a four year old, who had somehow heard of his wedding and had decided to message him.
She sure deserved an invite."

Akkie’s relationships have followed a trial and error pattern. He finally meets the one woman who completes him. They both plan their ‘dream wedding’, only, the wedding turns out to be anything but a dream! As Akkie, tries to placate his agitated bride three days before their wedding, his past catches up with him, spelling disaster after disaster. The crunching blow, comes when the son of his first ever girlfriend calls Akkie ‘Papa’ in front of a room filled to capacity with the Bride’s family. The wedding gets called off. But Akkie knows, there is no one else for him, but her…

Hope you enjoy reading the book, much more than I enjoyed writing it!