A Mixed Bag of a Year

This year’s been a bit of a mixed bag. For the most part, I sat around waiting for things to happen and ended up feeling really dejected when they didn’t. So I turned to writing as a way to make myself feel better. Writing works as therapy for people like me. 

 

Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation ~ Graham Greene

The year started off with one of my novels, Mr Eashwar’s Daughter (a modern-day retelling of Jane Austen’s Persuasion) getting a mention in two articles on South Asian writers and their fondness for Jane Austen (Juggernaut & Globe and Mail, Canada). In fact, when the Canada-based journalist reached out to me for a quote, my joy knew no bounds. It isn’t easy to get noticed in India leave alone globally – if you don’t have a massive publicity budget or a team to help. It’s incredibly gratifying to have your writing reach foreign shares and I am really thrilled that it happened.

I published a short story that was initially commissioned by Juggernaut Books but somehow slipped under the radar due to the pandemic. The story, Chasing the Clouds, is about a young man who takes up a job in a remote village in the hills and ends up having a life-changing experience. You can read it here if you want.

 

Earlier this month, the third instalment of my Dragon Aunty series –
Mangar Mayhem was published. In this caper, Dolly Luthra and her sidekick Mini go to a spa in the Aravallis for some rest and rejuvenation and promptly get caught up in a murder investigation. It’s getting good reviews and the perfect short read for the holiday season.

That's it for this year. See you in 2024. Stay healthy, happy and read my books if you can!

  

Why the Grinch Stole Valentine's Day!

Woman in a pink, frothy gown was on her way to meet her beau for lunch yesterday. I stopped, stared and gasped for breath as she walked into the lift, cloud of perfume around her. As soon as the lift doors closed, she pressed all the buttons on the panel and then, as the lift proceeded to stop on each floor, she popped out her coiffured head to determine whether the floor in question was the right one or not. 

At which point my teeth had started its familiar grinding action and I could hear my ears pop. High blood pressure alert! I decided to ask where she was headed so that we could all get there fast and, preferably alive.

So I asked but all I got in response was a cold stare. After a few seconds of staring, she rolled her eyes in disdain. “I'm going nowhere,” she hissed.

“Nowhere?” My eyeballs had all but popped out of their sockets.

"Yes," she repeated looking at me as though I was a Jurassic Age dinosaur that had survived extinction and landed up in the lift with her. "Yes, I told you, I'm going nowhere."

"Arrey Aunty, we are going to Nowhere Pub. Do you know where that is?" I heard another voice in the lift. Shrill and insistent. I looked and saw another girl, a tiny creature, hidden by the folds of pink chiffon. I hadn’t noticed her before.

I might have told her. But Aunty? I sniffed disapprovingly and said I didn’t know where Nowhere was.

They exchanged a snide look between them and when the lift stopped on the next floor, they let themselves out with a whoop of joy. Nowhere had been sighted.

I could hear the clickety clack of their heels as the lift door shut and I fumed in silence.

Now I know what the Grinch felt like. 

I’m going to steal Valentine’s Day and that’s final.