To Write Or Not To Write

I am an occasional writer, or perhaps one aspiring to be. This realization dawns upon me as I sit down to write after a long time. I often feel an urge to pen down my thoughts but something or the other comes in the way of my bleak dedication. Be it lack of composite ideas, pre-occupation in some other work or mere shameless procrastination. However, I could fill pages if I had to write about my daily activities, my writing block or my apprehensions. But then I stop and ask myself- who would want to read all this? Who am I? A celebrity? A sports icon? An acclaimed actor? The truth is I am nothing; just a breathing piece of flesh in this vast universe ruled by numerous talented and twinkling stars. I am just a dull member of the galaxy clouded by the ever so magnificent moon. So I realize that if and when I wish to write I must consciously decide to distinguish the writing from the writer. It may pour itself into the pages like rain droplets hissing down the window pane but I must make sure that the window remains shut.


So what shall I write about? Love? Nah. It is cliché to the point that all of my poems end up glorifying the purpose, existence and importance of it regardless of the theme I had begun with. Also, I have never been in a relationship. I know nothing. (But isn’t it the job of a writer to imagine and create what is not there?)


So I tell myself to move beyond love and write a story about, umm, well, a war. A gruesome war narrative that would stir the soul of the reader by bringing to life the struggles of millions of those scarred from the clutches of the monster that destroys both the perpetrator and the preventer. But how could I even dare to think that I am capable of such an endeavor? I have no experience or research accomplishments whatsoever. How will I ever be able to understand the gravity without having sufficiently read, heard or searched?


Now I search for a lighter topic, something that would not be beyond my capabilities and something that could attract more readers. So I pick a recent controversy and plan to voice my opinion in order to give a new angle to the event. Finally, the nib of my pen touches the page of my new diary and I see that the ink has already dried up.

Book Review #1

Title:
The Bestseller She Wrote

Author:
Ravi Subramanian

Genre:
Romantic Intrigue

Publisher:
Westland Ltd

MRP:
275 INR

Bio:
Ravi Subramanian, a banker-turned-author, is a famous bestselling author of seven books. TBSW is his 8th book and entirely different from his earlier ones that were set in the banking world. In this book too, the male protagonist is s banker-turned-author (I know, right?).

Outline:
The story is set in modern day Mumbai where the protagonist Aditya Kapoor is settled as a bestselling author. Middle-aged Aditya lives there with his wife Maya and son Aryan. Maya is a caring wife who sacrificed her career as a banking professional and instead became an educationist.
Then enters Shreya Kaushik, a pretty, belligerent and straight forward management student. In a predictable turn of events, Aditya gets attracted to Shreya who is a good deal of years younger than him. Shreya, who wants to be a bestselling author like Aditya seeks this as an opportunity to make her foothold in the industry. I was confused throughout the novel whether Shreya actually had fallen in love with Aditya or it was mere fangirling gone wrong. However, Aditya is caught in a love triangle of sorts and heads on with the 'best of both worlds', until of course there's a twist in the tale and events get chaotic. How he deals with entangled relationships and whether he's able to come out of the web he weaved around for himself, read the book to find out.

Opinion:
When I had started reading the book I thought it would be another yound adult cliché and by most, if not all means, it turned out to be exactly that. The author at numerous occasions, by medium of dialogue between his characters, mocks the currently trending bestsellers by new Indian authors and how they simply sell trash. Ironically, he has managed to only marginally go beyond this category. In one dialogue his lead character is voicing her opinion on bestsellers - "push any book, however mediocre, through an aggressive sales campaign and you have a bestseller". This quote from the lead character should have been the tagline of this book! There are a few plot holes that I managed to notice because at some points the plot was getting boring. If you're a feminist, the book is rather likely to piss you off at a few instances. For the initial part of the novel, I was unable to create a vivid imagery of Shreya. In contrast, Aditya and Maya are nicely carved characters. There are other supporting characters like Sanjay, Aditya's friend, who are shaped well and play key roles in the plot. However, my favourite character has to be Maya. A strong-headed woman who is equally gentle when it comes to family and the society. Extremely courteous and sacrificing, she beautifully fills the gap Aditya leaves as an unreasonable and unable-to-create-fanbase protagonist. Despite the clichés, there are many positives that have made this book stand out in the shelf of this genre. One is definitely the writing style of Ravi Subramanian. He is among the many IIMalumunus-turned-author but a slight notch higher. Despite his professional background, he doesn't write like a boring banker. It shows that he hasn't simply become a writer, but has the skills. Steady vocabulary, quick paced narrative and relatable setting of the novel will more or less keep you glued.

I am reviewing The Bestseller She Wrote by Ravi Subramanian as a part of the biggest Book Review Program for Indian Bloggers. Participate now to get free books!

Someone Who Makes A Difference

I am an ultra filmy person. I have always believed that our life is just like a movie. While we are in the lead role, there are many supporting actors and others doing significant cameos. In most of the my favorite movies there is one such character who is more wise and charming than the protagonist, always guiding through the tough times. In our lives too, we often come across one such person. A person who may have a short spanning role in our lives, yet managing to leave a deep imprint.

Such characters become our role models, our mentors, our teachers. In my life also that person is a teacher, literally. My English teacher. Unfortunately, our lives collided for only one year, when she taught me in 11th grade. But I can count on that one year as a thorough learning experience that is significant to my life more than all the other years taken together.

Mrs. Bisht is an exceptional teacher, and a graceful human being. Even though she was our English teacher, she imparted us knowledge pertaining to Geography, Philosophy, History and life in general; all while rambling between the literature lessons.

She is a fluent and confident speaker. It was always a pleasure listening her speak. She has a knack of language, knows what to speak where and when, and in such an eloquent manner that she could win hearts with her words. And she actually did. Ours was the last batch she taught in school after which she retired from job. But what she has given us in the form of these words will continue to enlighten us throughout our lives.

She always told us to be aware of the world around us. When we were promoted to 11th class we were just a bunch of careless and ignorant girls. Mrs. Bisht worked to raise us into ladies who would be intelligent but would always remember from where they belong. She gave us strong roots, and she gave us wings to fly, into a world that would often be harsh but we shall never let it dull the glimmer in our eyes.

The fondest memory I have with her is of the stories she used to share in her English classes. Whether she told us about one incident where she cleverly outwitted a molester and escaped a potential threat; or how she always maintained dignity while talking to her mother-in-law (who eventually remembered only her name during her last days when she lost her memory); and how she and her brother never fought with each other, or their father, for any thing at all. All such stories from her experience would teach me so much about life, and how to live it with my head held high. She filled a major vacuum in my life, that of a role model. Whenever I think of someone I want to become, her flawless face appears in front of me, smiling like always.

She always talks with great regard about her family. I feel it is in the way that she was raised that makes her such a perfect human being. Her desire to inculcate the same values in her students is absolutely adorable. She would often scold and punish us when we were wrong, though she once confessed that she never really gets angry but pretends to be just to make us realize our mistakes! It even worked. Her slightest of scolding would pinch me deep down to the heart, because they were true and in the purest of intention. 

I can't help but wish she would have taught us for one more year, but then I guess it's all destined. Even in the short time she had with us, she made a big difference in my life. I am extremely grateful for all the moments I shared with her. Truly, some people are one in a million and #madeofgreat.

This post was for the #madeofgreat contest by Indiblogger. Check out: http://madeofgreat.tatamotors.com/

There is one contest for the readers, too! 

The best comment that answers the following question will win an Amazon Gift Voucher worth INR 750/$11.34:-

"What do you think of Tata Motors' association with Lionel Messi?"

The contest closes on 26th November 2015 at 11:59 p.m. So make sure to drop a comment below before the time ends!

The Horrors of Sleep Paralysis

Source: Google Images

An asleep person is half dead. Anything can happen to you while you’re sleeping. A spider can walk over your face and get inside your nose. Someone may break into your house and steal your Nutella. A natural calamity may sway you to Heaven along with your mattress. Or for that matter, the world may come to an end and you might wake up straight on the Judgment Day. Anything can happen.

Sleep is an integral part of the human existence on this planet. It is also the most fascinating phenomenon that a person can study.

Recently I started paying attention to my nightmares and often tried to remember them for as long as possible. One afternoon I was having my after-lunch nap that I had a nightmare. This is not the unusual part. The unusual part is that after I became aware of my lucid dream and it ended somehow, I lay in bed motionless for a few minutes. No matter how eloquent I try to be I cannot precisely describe that terrifying moment. I just lay still in my bed while my brain was struggling between sleep and consciousness. I was trying to sit up with all the strength and might I had in the midst of sleep exhaustion, but nothing happened. I came out of it somehow and regained control.

This irregularly happens with me. It’s just a matter of few numb seconds after which I wake up. But those few seconds are absurd, sometimes very horrifying.

I was so intrigued with this strange occurrence that I decided to Google it and read a bit about this phenomenon called sleep paralysis.

"The Nightmare, by Henry Fuseli (1781) is thought to be one of the classic depictions of sleep paralysis perceived as a demonic visitation." - Wikipedia 

I opened up myself to a vast ocean of knowledge pertaining to sleep disorders and what they really are. After knowing what sleep paralysis actually is, I realized that what I experienced is not even a fraction of something that could explain the gravity and complexity of the situation people suffering from it go through. People actually struggling from sleep paralysis disorder had shared their stories. Some of their experiences were similar to mine but with some I simply couldn’t relate. Before I head on to that comparison I would like to explain what all I know about sleep paralysis to give you a better insight.

Simply put, it is a moment either while falling asleep or waking up; where your body is still into the state of sleep but the mind has woken up. While reading up sleep paralysis I noticed repeated mention of the term ‘REM sleep’.

What is REM Sleep?

Rapid Eye Movement (REM) Sleep is when we do most active dreaming. Our eyes are actually moving back and forth during this stage, hence the name. 

Now, it would be more comprehensible to know that sleep paralysis occurs when our body can’t transition smoothly between going into deep REM sleep and coming out of it. The reason behind the failure of smooth transitioning is yet unidentified. It is, however, an absolute natural occurrence and can happen to any person, healthy or ill.

Source: Google Images

If we look at the logical need of sleep paralysis state for the body, one fairly obvious reason surfaces. When the body fails to transition smoothly between stages of REM sleep, the brain instructs our voluntary muscles to relax. This causes a state of paralysis called ‘atonia’ in science. 

This way the brain prevents us from acting out our dreams (as in the case of sleep walking).

Now I would like to share with you all the tid-bits of facts I collected about sleep paralysis.

Some of which matched with my personal experience:

· It is more likely to happen when we are sleep deprived and need more rest than we are currently having.
· Most people have experienced it at least once in life but are not aware of it or ignore it.

· It lasts for around 20 seconds to a few minutes.

· It is NOT a disease or a mental illness, until it is very frequent and exceeds the 20 sec- few mins average span. In that case, the reasons behind it might be other than the usual natural occurrence (for instance, a past mental illness or trauma)

Source: Google Images

However, I couldn’t relate to a few other facts. These are possibly true in case of unusual causes originating out of a mental illness or trauma:

· You feel as if you woke up dead.  Well, that is not what I felt, at least. You kind of know what’s       happening but can’t really do anything about it.

· Your eyes are sometimes open.
  Hell! That is scary.

· You feel a presence in your room and sometimes even hear voices.
  That seems bizarre and is more supernatural than scientific.

· You just can’t wake up. It is a natural process, not in your control. So you just lay there             waiting until it ends.
  But in my case, as I mentioned, I was able to wake up once I pushed myself up with all my might.       But chances are that I just feel that I got up because I tried hard but in reality it was simply the             natural end of atonia.



In a nutshell, sleep paralysis is just one of the sleep disorders like insomnia and sleep walking but not as common. These lines by one of my Twitter friends perfectly explain the feeling of being in sleep paralysis:

It's that time again –

that moment 

when wake and sleep 

become one 

and I don't know 

what world I belong to.

P.S- If any of you know more about sleep paralysis, have a story to share or simply want to correct any of my observations, comment below or you can message me directly via the contact widget on the right sidebar.

Why Do People Think It's OK To Lie?

Here, I don't intend to claim that I don't lie. But I definitely don't think it's OK to lie and often fail terribly at it. Sometimes I have to lie, just to make a situation better. In such scenarios we all feel it's OK to lie because a 'small' lie can turn things in our favour. Well, yes. But why is it so?

Because we're a world obsessed with serendipity. Even though we see no potential of it happening, we still keep wishing it happens. Any consolation in that regard calms us and soothes what's burning inside.

But I don't want to soothe my fire. It is what keeps me from giving up and going berserk.

That is why I like brutally honest people. They might seem rude and harsh but atleast they're not pretending to be someone else. They are people we can bank on, people who are actually making the world a better place to live in.

I would trade my seven lives in this world for a year in a world where all the people are honest. Where you can make friends without the fear of being stabbed and express your real emotions without the fear of being misinterpreted.

That would be my utopia. Because of course, ' There is no legacy as rich as honesty'.

27 Broken Footprints- A discussion with the author

Recently I got the chance to have a discussion with the debutant novelist Preeti Bhonsle regarding her novel 27 Broken Footprints. I would like to share the interesting conversation I had with her:


Me: Firstly talking about When A Star Dies. When I read the name of the chapter I thought it would be a metaphor about the downfall in the career of a celebrity. I was party wrong and partly right. What is most surprising is the fact that you've connected it to science, despite maintaining the literary device. Did the IITian inside you seep into that concept or was it the result of a past observation that led you to this fascinating piece of fiction?

Preeti: I had the story in my head about the girl as you have already read. It seemed so obvious – her fall and the way a star fades out. What I like about this piece is how a story can be told around a few factual sentences and also how these scientific inserts provide for the right kind of breaks for the starlet’s story to progress.
Now tell me did you like her name?




Me: I loved it! Did you name her so because it seemed apt to the story or is it inspired by a real life character?

Preeti: I would like to believe that I have invented the name. Google might disagree, should check on this. But I certainly did coin the name. I like how it sounds.
Based on a real person? Hmmn...let’s not share everything…

Me: One thing I find really interesting about your book is that even though there are different chapters with different characters yet it all looks interconnected. Want to elaborate on this?

Preeti: They are all interconnected. Ways of story telling are carried over from one section to another, sometimes in style sometimes in characters. For example The Tree House in the rain, the second story in the book, borrows the protagonist of the first story, The Other Woman. Borderline Human Tales is just a more detailed version of Little Stories. Also the issues I bring up in Women, men and heroes form an integral part of the story - Like me, you are and also a little of Inside Diary.
I had written an article about the fractal nature of the book, you should go through it.

Me: Your writing surprises me every single time. One thing which is identifiable to your writing style is that you connect science to random life coincidences, and it seems absolutely legit. Let me tell you that I am a very non-science person. In fact I hated science all through middle school, if I may say. That is because I was always inclined towards the philosophy of living than the science of life. And you're the first such person I've come across who blends both science and philosophy in such a beautiful manner. I admire you for that!
Coming to the chapter Forgotten Tales Of A Family Lost. Why do you call these tales 'forgotten'?

Preeti: The family in this story is struck by recurring tragedy across two generations. They have realized that the only way to truly cope up with difficult times is to forget them.
But the "forgotten tales" bit is slightly self-referential. Notice the starting lines, the narrator is trying to remember their story, her story, she is trying to remember what she has forgotten. Also the prose forgets certain details too - for e.g. after the twin is lost there are four people at the dining table, the very next line says there are five of them at the table.
Towards the end of the story, the forgetting bit gets very rapid. I think it is a bit scary how this story ends, I almost feel for the husband.
Did you like this one?

Me: Yes, I do. After having read three of your chapters I notice that you have a kind of soft corner for the supernatural. Your writings are wrapped in suspense and it gives immense food for thought. Is it your genre of writing by default or did you work on it for specifically this novel?

Preeti: This was just a phase. I had been experimenting with this kind of writing – magical, real, mystical, with characters – abstract, blurred, ideal, evil. Only these sections of the book - Little Stories and Borderline Human Tales are mystical, supernatural, abstract and magical. Rest of the seven are in no way like these.
I did not work on it specifically for this book. It was just a phase I was going through. For example my latest experiment was in trying to write a different kind thriller ( Who Killed Linda?) and it turned out to be fantastic.





27 Broken Footprints is available on Amazon and Infibeams. Despite of what it says on the Amazon site, the book will be delivered with 3-4 days.


To read more about the book and Preeti, you can visit www.27brokenfootprints.com

Reader's Post

Recently I encouraged all my readers to write poems to themselves, for self love. I got to read some really beautiful poems. I would like to share two of my most favorite ones.

Introduction

Why hello there young lady
Came around to recheck?
While you stand at the 'right' angle
Here is a gentle reminder-
It's about time you sung your song!

An introduction
Of a peculiar soul
Behold the irony-
With just two syllables
You scribble a whole saga!


Born amongst fiery flames
Under the northern star
As nine as a feline
As clean as a cleanser
And yield company like Caesar.

Your ebony coated pupils
Shy away from those ivory
They tremble with grace
Look down with "dew" respect
And up with a gazillion ambitions.

Your bruises have a healing power
Right now they may be numb
But they contain ingredients
Of a soothing lotion
Which creates dimples in melancholy.

The strands that fall out of place
Creep under your quilt
To tease you during wintry nights
Yet when you mercilessly splash water
They go on and kiss your blades.

You bump into humps
And enter a different dimension
You trip on a tile
And fall into nature's cradle
You make clumsiness feel trendy!

Your puffed up cheeks
And ever pigmented lips
Moisten the mist
Outshine the sunshine
And drill the craters further.

And when you hide your face
While chewing those treats
And when you button your cuffs
Like it's a huge obstacle
There's someone capturing your moments.

Honey, you are beautiful
A treasure, a dynamite
You wear a halo for a tiara
Just never fall for your shadow
For it is the black in a spectrum.

- By Vani Devraj

Loving Me....

Comfortable, neat, pressed, well dressed;
Yep, I take pride in always looking my best.
I'm fly, I'm breezy, I'm sharp, I'm mean
Whenever they see me they say I'm too clean 😎

Calm, collected, quiet, reserved,
I'll give you no less than the respect you deserve.
I'm shy at first but don't be deceived
If you ever befriend me I'll make you believe
That even if you're hurt and filled with sorrow
There's waiting for you a beautiful tomorrow

Lean, fit, ripped and toned
At 5'5, man I'm bad to the bone
But don't be alarmed, I'm gentle I swear
Yep, I'm cuddly just like your teddy bear

Smart, wise, mentally sound
My head's held high, my feet firm on the ground
Straight A student, yes at every school
Try me America, I'm no "nigger" nor fool

This poem is mine, but its not just for me
It shows you everything I think about daily
My virtues, my strengths, my guidelines in life
Things that help me in times of strife

Standing in front of my mirror, I will try something new
I will lift my eyes... Smile... and whisper "I love you"
I've said to so many, friends and family.
But I never said it, to the one that is... Me

"The Bipolar Being", my friend, I love you too
Because without this poem I would've never knew
How lost I was, trying to please everyone else
Trying to help them I neglected myself

So in my closing, a quote i leave with you
"If I asked you to name all of the things you loved, would you ever name you?"

- By Tadãshï Yasáhîro