Princess X was wedded to Prince Y at an event of significant revelry at the faraway Land of Orange Mist. Like all weddings, it was essentially a joyous one. Kings and queens from far and wide, arrived to meet, eat and tweet with the loving couple, whose romance was one that could make another tale, for another day. But essentially, it was pretty Romeo and Juliet, except for the catharsis at the tragic end.
Yes, this is the story where Prince Romeo marries Princess Juliet, with the Capulets and the Montagues at least in partial attendance, and with minimal damage in terms of body count, (drunken brawls and other accidental deaths not included). All in all, a very happy affair. Until of course, they start living together, Romeo and Juliet that is, ruling their land, as king and queen.
Although the land of Orange Mist was essentially a happy one, it was of poor means, with many a farmer starving or leaping to death depending on his terms with the money lenders of the land. The rains were cruel, and the neighbours stingy, as stingy with their waters as the moneylenders with their patience. Continue reading
We are ecstatic to announce that our second book, a collection of humorous short stories has just been published! It is titled, ‘The Case of the Punctual Phantom and other Silly Stories’. The stories are about the craziness and comedy that we face in contemporary Indian life.
A young man attends a job interview for the umpteenth time, a writer eavesdrops on a conversation at a pizzeria. A social butterfly tries hard to keep her clique under control, a disgruntled mother gives her honest opinion of motherhood. A bunch of boys in a hostel scare an unwanted roommate away, a busy working woman runs for president in her apartment complex out of need. A young employee makes a risky move in office politics, a young girl who is being blackmailed uncovers the identity of her blackmailer. A successful businesswoman is forced to marry a dog by her street smart mother-in-law and a fake psychic tries to exorcise a real ghost.
This collection is about ordinary people dealing with the tantrums that life throws at them and being able to nod their heads and smile along the way. We are sure you will relate to the characters in this collection and will definitely chuckle along with them.
You can get a kindle e-book here: http://amzn.to/1VogCjU
Indian readers can grab a paperback version here: http://bit.ly/1TQHJ5v
We will soon be launching an international paperback version!
Do check out the book and let us know what you think. We look forward to your feedback.
The sky was on the verge of turning crimson. It was time for Surya to start his day. Madam had never owned an alarm clock and at it was up to him to wake her up. Surya had diligently fulfilled this responsibility for the last seven years. Rain or shine, and through sickness and in health, even on the days when his majestic midnight blue tail drooped from the symptoms of a pesky ailment, Surya never once missed waking Madam up.
With resounding “cock-a-doodle-doo” that echoed through the trees on the mountain, Surya nudged madam out of her slumber.
The soft, tangerine plumes that covered his stately neck glistened in the early morning light as Surya ducked out of his coop. He strutted across the front yard at a languid pace and hopped onto the front porch. Surya examined his reflection in the glass shutter of the main door. He first checked in legs and then his mouth. Continue reading
I was hungry. We were all hungry. I was no different from the others.We were all the same. At least we all looked the same now. It was all around us, flakey yellow skin. It fell off our naked arms and our open faces each time we moved. It left a fine outline on the floor of the ship when someone uncrossed their legs to leave. It left behind a mark. Our peeling skin looked like snowflakes. It has a featherlike quality to it and weighed next to nothing. It resembled yellow snowflakes, whose whiteness had been eroded by the dog piss that now stained it. There wasn’t much food to go around for all those who traveled on the vessel. So we literally started to shed ourselves in order to live.The more we cast off what we didn’t need-first our fat, then our muscle and finally our skin, the less we needed to get through the day. Perhaps this is why we survived, or maybe this was the beginning of the end. No one really knew, and everyone was too afraid to ask. Continue reading
Sheetal was the tiniest girl in her class, and she knew this all too well. At thirteen, while her fellow classmates at Saint Augustine High School were sneaking to the local tailor shop after school in order to get their extra school uniforms fitted, mostly to accentuate their newly acquired over the past summer, Sheetal continued to attend class day in and day out in the same set of duds she has worn since class four. When the school year started in early June, she didn’t once imagine seventh grade would turn out to be so hard.Roma, Seema, even Parveen, who was the second shortest girl in her class had arrived at the threshold of what the adults called “womanhood” before Sheetal could so much as stumble anywhere close to it. At four feet eight inches in height and forty three kilograms in weight, most of which was bone mass, Continue reading
I began tucking him into his bed and he tells me, “Daddy, check for monsters beneath my bed!” He was a brave kid, never scared of anything but maybe he too was picking up on the atmosphere of the house. His wide watery eyes stared at me as if to confirm my suspicions. My legs began to shiver and I had to take a dry gulp. I almost ran out of his room, but you never let you child know you are too afraid to look beneath his bed! Continue reading
It took a while, but we made it happen and it’s just a start. More will follow.
Our first book, THE GHOST WALK and tales of terror … (a horror anthology) is out, and ready for grabs. Buy it here
About The Ghost of Walk and tales of terror:
“The Ghost Walk & tales of terror” is a collection of short horror stories that capture the fears and horrors borne out of the contemporary Indian mind. From the ghost walk of first year grad students to a hallucinating artist creating a masterpiece. From a quarreling couple driving to a disaster to children playing with faceless dolls. Continue reading