My Hypothetical Book Signing Event

I’m still buzzing with nervousness and excitement as the teenager inches forward, but she doesnt need to know that. My smile is easy and practiced. Im almost comfortable in it. She clutches a book, my book, to her chest like the last treasure of her life. We shake hands and the pen almost slips out from between my fingers.

“Such a big fan,” she whisper-squeals. I chuckle.

Continue reading “My Hypothetical Book Signing Event”

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Blur

Where do you draw the line?

Via Daily Prompt: Blur

The first time they hurt her, she thought it was a mistake. They weren’t used to having her around. They deserved another chance, even though she had never been treated this way before.

The second time, her mother told her it didn’t matter, even though her instincts told her otherwise.

The third time, she didnt want the baby to have to grow up without a father.

By the fourth time, she no longer knew where their right ended and abuse started.

9 Things I Learned Growing Up

All of us have some situations where we see or learn something new after growing up and go “my life is a lie”. We’ve all been there. Some of us take it in stride and adapt to the new knowledge. Some take it as a personal offense. I’m mostly the former, but I’m digressing.

Continue reading “9 Things I Learned Growing Up”

The Morals of Rumpelstiltskin

The tale of Rumpelstiltskin isn’t a new one. Whether it’s the original version or some other local version, every household tells it. Every grandma knows it. Every child has heard it.

Till date, I have heard/read at least four versions. I’ve read of a few others as well.

It is fascinating tale of greed and betrayal. Some writers today have taken up the challenge of retellings, and while I haven’t read them yet, I’m sure they can’t be too shabby. Continue reading “The Morals of Rumpelstiltskin”

Have a Little Faith (Review)

Maybe all you get are opportunities to do good, and all that bad you do ain’t much bad at all, but because God put you in a position to always do good, when you do bad, its like you let God down.

A break between my exams saw Mitch Albom’s Have a Little Faith on my desk. It is hardbound, with a jacket that gives the impression of being a beloved old prayerbook, or something akin to an old diary of someone you just met.

Now that I’ve read it I can’t think of any cover more befitting of the story told within its pages.

The chronicles of the Reb and the Pastor are brought along side by side, and portrayed almost simultaneously. They run in tandem, each their own little world, and though worlds apart, each connected to the other through something inexplicably human, something that beats at the very core of our conscience.

The feeling of embarrassment at having to deal with a childhood mentor on a personal level is one I share with Mitch, although I was hardly recognized enough to be asked for a eulogy. (Not that we do eulogies in our faith; remembering the dead mostly consists of praying for them, preferably at their graves.) The confusion and nervousness were palpable from the first page. And just like being around Al grew on Mitch, the book grew on me too. It felt somewhat like I think it would if I could get to know my grandfather now. He was no preacher, but he was wise beyond anything I could hope to achieve. Reading about the Reb Albert felt like living an opportunity I never got.

Henry’s story had many more ups and downs. If the portion about Al was akin to catching up with childhood friends, the portion about Henry would be making new ones at college. Much more nerve wracking and full of uncertain potholes. The former feeds fuel to the age old fire of bonding and faith, and lends light to the ignition of the later, which seems to spread out into uncharted waters.

There were a couple of things that struck a cord in my heart.

Maybe all you get are chances to do good, and what bad you ain’t much bad at all. But because God put you in a position where you can always do good, when you do bad, its like you let God down.

~Cass

This. In a world where there’s nothing to stop anyone from doing evil, it is faith put in these simple words that holds the lens that could change someone’s paradigm.

Why keep serving God? …Where can you go from God? He’s everywhere.

…You can’t work your way into heaven. Anytime you try to justify yourself with works you disqualify yourself with works. What I’m doing here, everyday, is only my way of saying ‘Lord, regardless of what eternity holds for me, let me give something back to you. I know it don’t even no scorecard, but let me make something of my life before I go.

‘And then, Lord, I’m at your mercy.’

~Henry

All the sufferings and mistakes in his life taught Henry a powerful and all encompassing lesson. These words are the gist of that lesson. Us puny little humans could never even hope for our actions to measure up and make us deserving of prizes. God’s prizes come from His love and His mercy, and if He decides that I don’t deserve His mercy there’s nothing I can do. But I can make other people’s lives better, even if its just a tiny thing, because my actions can measure up to that.

The messages carries forth in this book may sometimes seem trivial and easily derived from common sense, while at others far fetched. Nevertheless, they are important codes to love by, and it is definitely for you if emotional stimulation is what you need in the realm of faith. The human soul relies on emotional instincts when it comes to the question of these things. The unlikely routes as are portrayed, shows us many facets, shared by almost all major religions, that would otherwise not shine.​

Wired-in Sunshine

If she could feel exasperated by herself she would have sighed. She sipped her coffee and continued to scroll instead.

Written for this prompt at r/WritingPrompts.

The comment is here on the sub.


Naomi scrolled through yesterday’s accumulation. They were darker today than usual. Almost all of them were depression, uselessness, fear, nervousness, frustration. The spot below the hairline on the back of her neck tingled. She reached behind and rubbed as close to the spot as possible, taking care not to touch the cable that connected to the source of her emotions. It felt like a large lump of hair being shifted around if it touched anything while she was plugged in.

Warmth seeped through her fingers from the mug of coffee. Opening a new window, she began a list of the lightest emotions that had come in. The first on the list was a tiny amount of frustration. The donor was a regular. He got frustrated really easily but could let go of it just as easily. He’d made five separate donations yesterday alone. She’d spotted a burning shade of red anger and wondered if she wanted to experience that again. A singular experience had left her entire flower bed in ruins.

If she could feel exasperated by herself she would have sighed, at least, according to what she knew about the feeling. She sipped her coffee and continued to scroll instead. Continue reading “Wired-in Sunshine”

Between the Lines (Part 2)

part two of the story I wrote for my friend’s birthday.

Prestigious Writers' Club

This is the second part of the story I wrote for farhinhusain’s birthday.

Part 1


Vivid portrayals wrapped themselves around his mind, engulfed his senses, drowned out the rest of the world around him. They calmed the crushing need to be recognized, to be understood.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he laughed at the irony. He was using the action as a means to escape from the consequences of the action.

There was a shove to his side, and he almost fell over from his chair, not so much from the strength of the shove as from shock and momentary panic. His arm throbbed. Ishti and Dip stood over him, glaring, and their expressions demanding attention. The rest of his surroundings slowly came back into focus. A cacophony of white noise, the faint aroma of many different types of food mingled together.

His mind was still repeating the…

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