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December 2016 Issue

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue About Writer’s Ezine: The Origin: Writer's Ezine was started as a monthly literary online magazine (E-zine) with the intention of providing platform to emerging as well as established writers from around the world. From June 2016 Writer's Ezine would be published Quarterly. The idea of creating a platform for writers occurred to Arti Honrao towards the end of 2013. As a writer, she had been a part of many online forums, magazines etc. and she wanted to play a role in making a difference in the literary world. She thought of various names for the domain and finally settled on Writer’s Ezine. She purchased the domain and then discussed this with Namrata; her online friend, who then,

after a thought agreed that it was a good initiative. Right from day one responsibilites were sorted out; Namrata was meant to handle the promotions and editing/compilation of the submissions, handle review and interview section while Arti worked on the site, banners and badges, publishing the posts on site – the designing, forms etc., creating issuu emagazine and pdf versions of the issue.

The Progress: Having published more than 100 contributors in the first five issues; WE released its first special edition issue in September that featured contributors already published on Writer's Ezine. The journey continued and WE released it's second special

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December 2016 Issue edition (Anniversary Issue) in April 2015. As the journey progressed WE introduced new features including Book Giveaways and it was during one of such book giveaways that Namrata was recruited by a Publishing House to be their Editor, which had a negative impact on her role in Writer's Ezine and finally the decision had to be made. Namrata was no longer a part of Writer's Ezine and Arti Honrao single-handedly released November and December 2015 issues.

The End: Arti Honrao announced that December 2015 issue would be the last issue of Writer's Ezine. The story behind the decision can be read on this page: Why was the

magazine closed to begin with. Statistics as on 2nd December 2015: 21 Issues, 69,265 page views, 536 posts, 275+ contributors, 1,595 Facebook followers, 173 Twitter Followers and 82 Newsletter subscribers.

The Rebirth:

“Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.” ― Neil Gaiman April 2016 was supposed to be the second anniversary of Writer's Ezine but, unfortunately there was no celebration. This and a few other factors led Arti Honrao to reconsider her decision of closing down Writer's Ezine and finally towards the end of the Anniversary month;

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December 2016 Issue she announced the reopening of the magazine. The magazine will now be published quarterly. WE appreciates submissions in all forms of poetry prose poems, haiku, tanka, acrostic, etc., fiction - including 55-fiction & flash fiction, non-fiction, photography and (newly introduced) art in any form. Anything that is creative is accepted at Writer's Ezine. e.g. paintings, quilling, sketches etc. (You can send photos of the same with the description of the art) To get published in our magazine you can send in your work in any of the above mentioned categories (only English) as per our submission guidelines mentioned HERE.

Cover Photo Copyright – Arti Honrao This e-magazine is a compilation of Poems, Short Stories, Short – Story Series, Non – Fiction, Photographs published on Writer’s Ezine. Image source Google Images, unless mentioned otherwise. (Photography submissions © of mentioned author. The copyright of the work published in this magazine remains with the author of the individual work. Please contact the authors and Writer’s Ezine if you need to use the content. You are free to share the content as long as you retain and respect the copyright. Visit Writer’s Ezine (www.writersezine.co m) for details Find us on Facebook www.facebook.com/wri tersezine

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Twitter https://twitter.com/W riters_ezine Send us an email admin@writersezine.c om WE on Issuu: http://issuu.com/wri tersezine WE on Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1LV3o5a WE E-magazine site: http://mag.writersezi ne.com

About Administrator: Administrator, Editor, Promotions & Marketing Manager, Web-designer, Strategist & Relationship Advisor. : Arti Honrao: www.artihonrao.in Do share your feedback with us. WE would love to hear what you have to say testimonials@writers ezine.com

WE on What’sApp

What's App on the number provided in the image with your details (name etc.) and your query. WE admin would reply as soon as possible. Writer's Ezine broadcasts alerts frequently about important notices and newsletter with direct links. All you have to do is add WE to friend list if you wish to get the alerts and inform us about the same. You can trust WE, your number would not be shared with anyone and WE would not send you spam. Now get special benefits by being subscriber of broadcast alerts. To begin with – Get a glimpse of the prompt of the month photo before others.

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December 2016 Issue App of Writer’s Ezine

It is highly recommended that the mobile users download and install this app, which comes loaded with features including the tab for downloading pdf versions of all the issues of Writer’s Ezine and links to important pages on Writer’s Ezine. In short, if you have this app in your phone it means you have the entire Writer’s Ezine on your palm!

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue

Some We Win Some We Lose. 'To be a champion, I think you have to see the big picture. It's not about winning and losing; it's about every day hard work and about thriving on a challenge. It's about embracing the pain that you'll experience at the end of a race and not being afraid. I think people think too hard and get afraid of a certain challenge.' - Summer

Sanders.

I am yet to come across someone who has won it all. We all have plans for our lives, we want to live according to those plans; we have goals and most of them we do accomplish but somewhere along the

way there is something that is left behind. Something, that we had to give up on – unwillingly. And, that something keeps bothering us every step of the way; creating further hurdles in our life path. These are the unfulfilled dreams, unachieved goals that find a way to stay with us like a phantom limb. Some people move on, some cannot. In the

end, everything depends on the individual and the

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December 2016 Issue way he/she perceives life. As long as we do not accept that these have the capacity to affect our lives only to the extent we allow them to, we won't be able to break the shackles of the past and move on. Take the first step to free

yourself from the past. Accept what has happened without playing the victim; only then it would be possible to move on to the next step of learning from the event.

When we once decide to move on; to forget what happened in the past, forget what we have lost and either stay unaffected or learn something from it – nothing can stop us build a better future. Things we lost once, things we cannot get back are better left behind in the past. There’s a quote by Doménico Cieri Estrada – “Bring the past only if you are going to build from it.” If there is something that you can pick up from the past and help build your future, bring it along with you or else just walk away from the broken pieces. Some pieces are best left where they fall.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue written by Asfiya Rahman and published by Half Baked Beans. Details of the same can be read here.

Recently, Writer's Ezine decided to introduce a new contest - Cook 'N' Win, details of which can be found here. The participation so far is disappointing; but there's still time. I am not sure how successful this contest is going to be but I can hope, right? 'We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.' - Martin Luther

This month WE has a sponsor for Exceptional Story prize. Richa Saxena. Details can be read in this post. In addition to sponsoring the prize she will also give away free copies (limited) of Soul Charmer - her ebook of poems. Details of the same would soon be made available on Writer's Ezine Blog.

King, Jr.

Talking of contests there is one more active contest on Writer's Ezine (apart from the always 'on' contests of exceptional poem/story/photograp h and prompt) Writer's Ezine hosts the Giveaway of 'Wild Card' Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue where she talks about 'Writing Promptly' this time. Prompt of the Month for March 2017 Issue is an image depicting hope and survival in adverse conditions. WE looks forward to some interesting submissions. Details can be read here.

In this issue, our inhouse book reviewer Ketki Yennemadi reviews 'We Will Meet Again' and interviews the author 'Tarang Sinha'; Simran Kaur, our other book reviewer reviews 'Penumbra' written by Bhaskar Chattopadhyay and interviews him as well. As always, Aneesha Myles Shewani writes on literature related interesting topic in the Literati segment,

Author's Quill of December 2016 Issue features Purba Chakraborty who writes about her journey as a writer in her article 'The Abstruse Magic I Experience!' In Cook 'N' Tell, our columnist shares mouth-watering egg recipe. Read and follow her easy instructions (and tips) to make it yourself. While you do that, do click some pictures and share it with WE, I would love to see them. Also, do check the Cook 'N' Win

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue contest participate!

and

I would like to congratulate all the contributors of this issue of Writer's Ezine. I really enjoyed compiling the issue. Due to the limitations of number of posts in one issue I had to keep some pending for subsequent issue; it was a difficult choice to make. To those who have not been published in this issue - you still have chance to be in the next. I hope the readers enjoy reading the issue as much as I loved compiling it.

when you know that it was a one hundred percent effort that you gave - win or lose.' - Gordie Howe.

I would love to read your feedback on the issue. Please write to me at feedback@writersezin e.com 'You find that you have peace of mind and can enjoy yourself, get more sleep, and rest Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Do check out Writer’s Ezine Print Magazines

Please visit our badges page http://www.writersez ine.com/p/link-towe.html and pick your favourite from the various badges to display on your site/blog and spread the word about Writer's Ezine

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Segments on Writer’s Ezine

Prompt of the Month

Author’s Quill

Books are magical and the ones who create them are magicians. Author's Quill is a segment that will bring all those magicians to recreate some of the magic through their quills, as they know it the best! As we all love to hear what they have to say, WE brings to you some of your favourite authors in this segment. Month on month WE will invite amazing authors to wield the magic of their quill and take you to their magic land which only they can create. Read what they have to share with you!

WE believes that at times creativity looks for a muse. So here we attempt to give you a muse month on month that will tickle your creative buds and let your imagination take a flight. The rules remain the same. The prompt remains open till the last date of submission for the next month’s issue. i.e. till 20th of the month to be considered to the next month’s.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Literati

A bi-monthly column which will bring to you interesting tits-bits about literature starting from authors to their books, everything that you ever wanted to know about it is here now. Join our columnist Aneesha Myles Shewani as she takes you along on a journey where the smell of books is in the air!

Cook-N-Tell

Till now Writer's Ezine managed to gather various flavours of romance, suspense, mystery, longing, pain, life, death, thriller... every chapter a new story and every poem a new song. And that is when we realised WE missed out on a very interesting flavour - one that adds a zing to it. So here we are, presenting Cook-N-Tell a bimonthly column which will have some amazing, mouthwatering, easy-to-make dishes!

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue

IN THIS ISSUE

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue She’s My Love at First Sight

It was on one Tuesday morning when I first saw her. My heart pounded like never before. From that moment I knew she was mine to eternity. I guaranteed myself I will love her like nobody ever will and simply do everything without exception, to keep her happy. I closed my eyes and thanked God for giving me, my precious little daughter. Ever since I was expecting a baby, I only wished for a

healthy child but my baby was more than what I would ever have wished for. My little girl, cute and chubby, turned into a purpose behind my smile each day since I first saw her. I learnt to be stronger kinder and wiser around her. As months passed I only wished for the time to pause so that I could just be in that moment with her. I knew starting here I needed to set her up to acknowledge all the best and the most noticeably awful things the world had to offer. My husband and I chose to give our best to the one we have and subsequently she was above everything else in our lives. Over the next few years we brought her up like any responsible parent would. Sending her

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December 2016 Issue away to school was agonizing simply because she had to be far from me the entire day yet the fact that I had to educate her kept my spirits high. By the time she turned 7 my health gave up on me, which is why I could not help her revise the topics she learnt in school. I was prone to severe wheezing because of which I lost my voice most of the time. My little girl learnt to do everything all by herself. She was a brave girl, I remember at the age of 6 she was off to Mumbai to live with her Uncle and Grandma during her summer vacations. It was hard for me to let her go yet I was amazed on the grounds that she was alright to live far from her mom and dad. • As years passed, my girl was now a teenager. I had also grown as a mother. Little did I know that

there would be a time when I could disconnect with her emotionally? Was it me or did she not love me anymore? Yes, she obviously did! I could see that. But something was just not right! There was something that she was hiding. I hoped she wasn’t doing anything she wasn’t supposed to. I was curious and anxious and I longed for that adoration she had for me as a child. She was just an above average performer and with the hope of making her extraordinary we sent her to hostel for her 9th and 10th grade. It broke us but as parents we had to portray the opposite. We knew it broke her as well and she continued to express the same in her letters and emails she sent us. She performed quite well in her board exams and she was finally home. At +2 she changed considerably

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue more as a person. I knew she was concealing things from us. As a mother I comprehended what the world would look like for her and all I petitioned God for her not to fall in a trap of a Love. Yes! I was a typical Indian mother in 2008. She completed her engineering degree in the next 4 years. I was proud of her. However in these 4 years we had a great deal of differences. She behaved like she knew more than I did. I was goaded by her mentality. Little did she know that we were of her age at some point of our life? There was one other thing that we generally quarreled over, her male friends. Not that there was issue but rather I had an instinct that she was dating one of them and her life is ruined thereafter. But she

eventually opened up about them and made sure she imparted their friendship with me. I was happy she kept me informed. In her early 20s I sensed her desire to travel abroad for her masters. Though we didn’t like the idea, we upheld her to seek after her dreams. Unfortunately for her, her Visa didn’t approve of her dreams. We were glad, simply because our only daughter would continue to be with us. Soon after this she ventured out to the city to seek after an occupation. Throughout the following couple of years she appeared to do entirely well and I was happy because I found a friend in my little girl. She shared practically all that she did. However I did feel there was something more to what was happening in her life.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue That was not till the day she revealed her desire to wed a love of her life. I didn't favor of this yet anyway her dad was enthused about supporting her since he felt she was an experienced grown-up and she realized what a good fit was for her and moreover he wanted her to be happy. My instinct didn't help me bolster her yet anyway I chose not to contend on this matter. A year later she came to me with a broken heart and wept hysterically. She had lost her love and imagined that everything was over for her. I dreaded this all my life. I never wished to see my baby girl hurt. I was drawn back to those days when I held her in my arms and hushed her into a beautiful sleep. I sensed like I finally found my long lost daughter. I

promised her that I would ensure everything works out fine for her and that I would be there for her generally, regardless. I was good to go to set her up to make due in a world without me. Today she is my closest companion and we talk like senseless adolescent young ladies. I am in another phase of life with her and I want the time to pause. Yet, I do accept there will soon be a day when I see her off, just to begin another venture. -A Loving Mom.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time‌


December 2016 Issue About Alka Purushotham: Alka Purushotham is a normal human being with normal job, which makes her life uninteresting. But there was always a side of her that wanted to do creative stuff, hence Alka Purushotham has started writing. She hopes her writing interests the readers. Email: alka23.1990@gmail.co m

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time‌


December 2016 Issue Silent Swing

The silent swing dangles from an oak limb, casting shadows on the carpet of leaves. The dappled afternoon sunlight of approaching autumn brings with it memories of your childhood…

summoning the vast possibilities of life. The nest, giving security without suppression and sustenance without strangulation, remains a haven. The silent swing sways in the breeze.

golden hair sweeping the ground, toes pointed to the sky, small hands gripping rope as I pushed you higher and higher. The momentum of time has flung you far from the nest and you’ve stepped out into the world with arms wide open, Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue About Laurie Schell: Laurie Schell is a writer living in California. She loves hiking, gardening, reading and travel. She writes poetry, essays concerning women and relationships, and stories for children.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue The Rhythm Hourglass

of

an

She stood at her window, holding between her palms simmering mug of coffee. Bending forward, she tried catching a glimpse of the children playing in the park that outlook from her room. In a flash, she traversed through the precious days that she’s left behind her in the dungeon of memoirs... Her tiny little fingers clutching on tightly to his strong arms that was like her shield against the odds. She felt protected, she felt secure, as she curled

herself around them in the warmth of his love. Holding his hands, she took her first step towards the inevitable journey of life. Millions of innocent dreams shone like the brightest of stars in her dreamy eyes. And amidst those glistening pearls in that very moment, somebody made a silent promise to themselves. The promise to preserve the beauty of those dreams. To safeguard them from getting tainted with this one big crowded world. She was like any other child, playing in her own tunes of happiness. Carefree, without any inhibitions, infusing every bit in the moment. He would be around her, keeping a vigilant watch on his darling and the moment he slipped out of her sight, her eyes frantically searched for him. He was like

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue the wind beneath her wings each time she sat on the swing. He would push the swing gently, taking utmost care of his beloved child from getting hurt. The instant her swing took flight in the air, she felt like he could conquer the entire world. She was nervous yet certain, anxious yet cheerful, curious yet ecstatic! For she knew he would hold her back. He would not let her fall down, he would not let her castle of fantasies shatter. He was her daddy, her hero!

Like the fallen leaves in autumn that sweeps along the gush of wind

or the colorful flowers that effortlessly blooms in the season of spring. Days spiralled into months and months into years. It wasn’t the change in season alone though. The once sweet little girl evolved to be a graceful lady. They say, ‘every summer like the roses, childhood returns.’ But the child in her never left, it was very much present, however, it took the form of maturity. How could she let go of the precious memories she’d created with the man of her life? She treasured them like they were her priceless

possessions. There’s a funny side to memories. When you are living in them you

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue never realize you are creating one. And once you realize, it’s already created! They then become the food for your soul, reason for your existence and meaning to your repressed aspirations!

She often takes the route to that park and sits there for hours. Her blank gaze fixed at the motionless swings which are still there, bearing witness to innumerable naive desires. It was here that she dreamt of touching the rainbow, reaching for the stars or even painting the color of the sky in her own shades. Whatever a

young, gullible mind could fantasize on and the source it sprang from- was her daddy. He taught her to believe in the power of dreams, who had faith in her illusions even if they were petite or meant baseless to others. She was basking in the stream of reminiscences that drowned her completely. It made her wonder about her transition, about the two different personalities she’d developed over the years. The one which is visible to everyone- firm and assertive. Someone who will stand for righteousness no matter what. While the other one which is deeply embedded in the chambers of her soul, that of a fragile, delicate girl. Who still wishes to envelope herself in

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue the affection of her hero, like a shawl does in winter! She believed in the fact of making the most out of challenges. Her indomitable spirit was invincible and almost contagious to the people around her. It was her courage that leads her to cut across the darkness and emerge a strong person that she is today. But what kept her going? What transformed her composure, what was the driving force behind her poise? Isn’t it surreal to comprehend these changes, lest there’s some underlying reasons for them? Well, in her quest to give meaning to his unfulfilled promise. She became one of them! The promise of her daddy, to protect her and her dreams against the unfavorable winds.

Instead of making his absence her weakness, she chose to make it her strength. Even though his lack pricked in her being every moment. Rather, she decided to embrace his aura in every step she took and the every move she made. She was certain that his guiding hands on her shoulder will remain with her forever, even though his physical presence wasn’t there. If she could be his angel at some point of time, why can’t he be her angel now? He wasn’t a hero known by the world. But a hero he was to his little girl! About Amreen Ahmed: Amreen is an MBA in Tourism Studies from Christ University, currently based out of Bangalore. She is associated with the Coffee Day Hotels and Resorts as a Senior Executive- Sales and Reservations.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Virtuality to Reality

Kanika and Isha entered the dimly lit lounge at about half past ten. Kanika saw him first. He was tall with rakish good looks. “He’s cute!” she thought. She winked at Isha, made her way to the bar and stood next to him. He smiled at her, “Hi, I’m Sumit. And you must be Kanika.” She was taken aback. “How do you know my name?” “Dance with me,” he said as he led her to the dance floor. Kanika looked around and saw Isha talking to the guy with the mop of curly hair. The music beats quickened. Kanika was forced to concentrate so she could keep up with his pace. Sumit was an accomplished dancer, not faltering even once. She

realized she was enjoying herself. Though she was still wondering how he knew her name. His arm around her waist, he led her to the far end of the lounge. “Kanika, wait here. I’ll be back in a Minute.” She sat on the sofa, not quite sure what to expect. She couldn’t see Isha. And Sumit acted like they knew each other. She

was certain she’d never set eyes on him before. “Here,” he handed her the margarita. Kanika’s favorite beverage. She sipped

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December 2016 Issue it slowly, collecting her thoughts. “Sumit, how do you know so much about me?” He said softly. “Look at me. What do you see? Wait, let me spell it out for you. ‘About 25′. ‘Brown Hair’, ‘Tall’, ‘Great dancer.’ ‘Knows me well.’ Don’t you remember?” Kanika was bewildered. “Remember what?” He said quietly. “That you created me. I am the product of your imagination. From the contest you won last year.” It came back to her now. She enjoyed sketching. And when one of the online gaming portals she often visited announced a ‘Create A Character’ contest, she sent her entry. She remembered being happy with the prize money of $500 she received. The rules said the drawing should be accompanied

by a detailed description of the character’s personality and the contestant’s interests. The portal wanted to make the character seem “lifelike.” She’d sent a long wishlist for the sheer fun of it. She said to him mockingly. “So, what you’re saying is that you are ‘Sumit’ from the gaming site?” He nodded. “Affirmative.” “Really?” she asked disbelievingly. “Log in. Now. Look for me.” She did. The touchscreen on her cellphone blinked ‘Hello Kanika’ She typed. ‘Where is Sumit’ Her cellphone blinked ‘He is at the Lounge. With you.’ She typed again. ‘Where is Sumit’ ‘Sumit’s not here. He is with you.’

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December 2016 Issue She gaped at Sumit, who groaned, “Don’t ask for me more than once. I think it causes my head to ache. Must be something to do with pixels and gravity. And for God’s sake, please log out.” She sat back on the sofa, completely flummoxed. Handing her a glass of water, he said gently, “Kanika, I have no idea how this happened. But I am here. For now. I know I have to go back into the gaming software soon.” He had a sad smile on his face. “Is this some kind of a joke? Or are you an online stalker freak?” she asked angrily. “No, I am not a freak. Please Kanika. Don’t analyze this. I have no answers. You are safe with me. Probably safer with me than any other man from the ‘real’ world. I am not a rapist, stalker or

murderer. I don’t shoot school children. Remember you created the ‘perfect’ me. With all the goodness from your heart. There wasn’t a single mean personality trait you put on that list Kanika.” He added. “Talk to me. Let’s have fun while it lasts. You have nothing to lose, do you?” She sighed. “Okay. Makes sense.” They talked for a while. She was surprised how much he knew about her. He was a great listener. He could empathize. When the timezone was in his favor, he’d read every line on the file they had tagged ‘Winning Entry.’ Surprisingly, she instinctively knew she could trust him. They danced one more time. Not speaking. Simply being.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue “What if I want to see you again?” she whispered to him. “I don’t think it works that way. I somehow showed up today in a real world setting. It is as weird to me as it is to you. I almost pixelated into nothingness when you walked in. Proof that you are real and I am not,” he said looking at her helplessly. Her cellphone rang. It was almost 2:00 in the morning. It was her Mom. She suddenly remembered she had to take her for a health checkup that morning. “Sumit, I have to leave now. Come with me. You are already in the real world.” She said urgently. “No Kanika, I can’t leave with you. From what I understand of my situation, I have the Cinderella curse. Look at my hands,” he said. She could see them turn hazier every few seconds.

They kissed one last time. She walked out the door, trying hard not to cry. Isha came running behind her, “Kanika, wait for me! Where were you? I’ve been looking all over! Hey wait up!” “Did you see him?” Kanika asked Isha. “Who? That drop dead gorgeous guy who monopolized all of your attention? Did you get his number?” she teased. “Yes. Him. Sumit. I mean no, I didn’t.” Kanika said nothing more. The story sounded ridiculous to her own ears. Upon reaching home, she lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. Had she been hallucinating? No. Isha had seen him too. And he was exactly like how she had sketched him. And in the description she’d sent them. At about 3:00 in the afternoon, she logged

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December 2016 Issue in from her desktop at the office. She typed. ‘Where is Sumit’ Her monitor blinked. Hello Kanika. This is Sumit. Welcome My Darling. To the cruel kindness of our love Caught in the static flow of time. A bitter sweet existence The only choice in this virtual reality’

About Ajay Vyas: Ajay Vyas is poet who is also an engineer and a management student. Basically belonging to Gwalior The heart of India, he is an amateur writer waiting for his first novel to be published.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue The Abstruse Magic I Experience!

around me. Hearing the conversations of my characters when I am sitting alone, sipping my tea make me feel that I don’t have to deal with loneliness ever which is a blissful feeling.

Writing is definitely the best thing that has happened to me. The ability to create stories makes my life interesting and keeps me intrigued by the things happening

A new story often forms in my mind when I am in that place between sleep and consciousness. As I wake up in the middle of the night, I try to recollect that faint dream where a new story has taken birth. I grab my notebook from the bedside table and jot down whatever

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue I can remember. Sometimes, I also type it in my cell phone if I cannot find a notebook nearby. When I wake up in the morning, the dream has faded away. I read what I have scribbled in my notebook and think of writing the story someday. Then I carry on with my regular life, focusing on the projects and assignments I was doing. After a few weeks, I can hear the main character of the new story speaking to me. She won’t let me live in peace until I write her story. I try to ignore her voice for as long as I can until she possesses me completely. Then after a few months, I find that I cannot keep the character out of my head or I will lose my sanity. Even if it’s a short story of 2000 words, I have to write it down. I have

experienced this phase many times in my four years of writing career. And this experience is magical. It makes me excited, nervous and gives me goose bumps. Finally, I open my writing journal and sketch the plot of the story that has been growing in me for months. If I decide to write a novel, then I write down the chapter outline in my journal. I believe in both plotting and going with the flow. Without a well sketched plot, I fear that I will get lost while writing. At the same time, I also break rules when one of the characters refuses to follow my plot. I remember I once left a story midway as I got busy with some chores and then another story caught my interest. The protagonist of that particular story was quite similar to me.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Later, after one and a half year, when I came back to that story, I observed something that was bizarre. The problem in which I had left my protagonist abandoned in the novel was quite similar to the problem that I had been facing in my life for some time. Although there is no logical explanation to it, the realization gave me cold feet. Hence, I decided to complete writing the story because incomplete stories don’t look good both on paper and in real life.

characters are always there to talk to you. Writing poetry helps me to understand and express even the most convoluted human emotions. When I am writing a novel, I often associate one of my poems with each character to understand their voice. Poetry helps me to make sense of what my characters are feeling. And the emotions that my characters experience are plausibly my emotions that I had experienced at some stage of my life.

Writing fiction is a magical experience. You get to spend months and years with a set of characters. You smile with them. You cry with them. You rejoice in their triumph. You suffer when they battle their demons. There is no time to be alone. Your Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue About Purba Chakraborty Purba Chakraborty is a novelist, poet, web content developer, lifestyle blogger and social influencer from Kolkata. She has authored two novels “Walking in the streets of love and destiny” (2012), “The Hidden Letters” (2014) and a poetry book “The Heart Listens to No One” (2016). Her short stories and poems have been published in 8 anthologies and various magazines. When she is not writing, she is either reading or singing. She blogs regularly at www.purbachakraborty.com.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Soul Searching

Will I find you shining still among the sharp pinpoint stars gleaming gold and silver? Or shall I search the ocean and find your spirit buried down there amongst the sand and pebbles? Perhaps I should comb the beach raking through its silver grains and broken shells. Only your restless soul could have washed up briefly there. You never liked beaches with

their sandwiches of sandy bites and the boredom of sun seeking. No you wouldn’t stay there. I wouldn’t find you there. You were always the deep one, so maybe I should look deeper, deep into the blue black night beyond the white milkiness into the sweet soft starlight. There would be a place for your soul to hide and I could join you

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue and rest a while, a long while with you again.

About Lynn White: Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. Her poem 'A Rose For Gaza' was shortlisted for the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition 2014 and has since been published and reprinted in several journals and anthologies. Poems have also recently been included in several anthologies including Harbinger Asylum's 'A Moment To Live By', Stacey Savage's 'We Are Poetry an Anthology of Love poems', ITWOW, 'She Did It Anyway', Community Arts Ink's 'Reclaiming Our Voices' and a number of on line and print journals.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue The Downpour

I woke up with the feeling that my left hand was damp. For about a few seconds, I assumed that it was an after-effect of the dream I had where I was rowing a boat in the middle of an ocean, all alone. Unlike my usual nightmares where I drowned or somebody tried to kill me, the dream I had was pretty normal and not very scary. But when I stepped on to the floor, trying to get to the bathroom, I realized that things were about to become real nasty. My room was flooded with water and I could hear the rain pouring outside which added to my panic! I opened the only window in my room to a devastating sight. The whole town was submerged in water.

Trees were uprooted and things, homes, animals and even people were floating around on the roads that were barely

visible in the deluge! I tried to calm myself and find a way to escape as quickly as possible. I learnt that trying to call somebody for help was useless because for one thing, I had successfully lost my phone somewhere in the water that was quickly rising and

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue also, there was no point in asking somebody to come and take me away because as I could see from my window, there was no way that anybody could save me from the first floor of a building that was being consumed in the torrential downpour where it would even be difficult for helicopters to fly in and evacuate people. I grabbed a lighter, a torch, a few eatables and some clothes and made my way upstairs, hoping to find the other residents taking shelter there. But I was disappointed to find only one person there. And it was extremely depressing to see that the only guy I detested in the building stood in front of me. “Where are the others?” I asked him, squeezing into the space under the water

tank where he was sitting. “What do you think?” he asked, obviously displeased at having me for company in his precious haven. “Don’t tell me they are dead!” I said, shivering due to the cold as well as the realization that I was stuck in a flood with really low chances of escape. “Well, they are not here and assuming from what seemed like remnants of the owner Uncle’s scooter on that electric pole, I fear the worst has happened with the people on the ground floor.” he said. “Do you have a phone? Have you tried contacting someone?” I asked, hopeful. “My battery ran out at night and there was no power since yesterday so it didn’t charge even though I plugged it in.” he said, muttering something

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue under his breath, probably cursing himself. It continued raining heavily and there was no spot left that was dry. I could see the water rising above the poster on the wall of the theatre that was visible from where I sat, which served as a sign for measurement. I didn’t understand what the people who made movies where a girl and a guy who get stranded on an island realizing true love and ending up together in an oh-soromantic fairytale even thought! Being in a situation where you didn’t know if you were going to be discovered by the rescue team or if you were even going to make out of it alive since the kind of death you wanted was supposed to be more pleasant and far off into the future, especially with a creepy guy you barely knew sitting beside

you through it, was not even slightly pleasant in reality. “Well, now you’ve grown awfully quiet.” he said. “But when you come back home in the middle of the night and put on loud music and bang the thin walls with no respect for the people living next door to you, you have no problem being chirpy when they complain!” “Hey listen, I get that this whole ambience is taking a toll on you and making you grumpier than usual but since you are insightful and sympathetic of others’ feelings, why don’t you worry about something else that’s not me?” I replied, giving him a dirty look. “I can’t! I don’t know how long I’m going to be stuck with you and I’m willing to put up with your chattiness as long as it gets this

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue flood off of my mind!” he yelled. “Can you stop shouting? The thunder and lightning is enough torture for me already!” I said. “Here, eat this apple and shut up!” He reluctantly took the fruit from me and bit into it. I glanced over at his wristwatch and noticed that it was time for breakfast. So, I ate an apple too and counted out the remaining food I had left. There was enough to keep me alive for a few days but since I had to donate some to the guy, I knew that I would run out of my supplies fast. “Do you have water?” he asked me. “Stand over there, look up and open your mouth.” I suggested. He looked at me like I was crazy until I did exactly what I had asked him to do in

order to quench thirst. “I’m not fond of drinking acid rain water.” he said. “Well, die then.” I said. “Death is funny to you?” he asked. “Even with all these bodies floating around us?” “I’m sorry.” I said, regretting it. “Some sentences like ‘Drop dead’ are my signature phrases.” “Are you some kind of a writer?” he asked. “Oh god, no!” I answered, laughing. “I think only lunatics can write stuff praising rains that wreck havoc like this.” “You don’t like rains? Like when you’re not stuck in a hailstorm?” he asked, amused. “You don’t think rains are beautiful when you are watching it from the comfort of your home with a cup of coffee in your hand? Or getting drenched in it, splashing

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue around in puddles like when you were a kid?” “I’ve always hated rains and getting wet and muddy! And it looks like they hate me too.” I said. “So, what are you? A poet?” “Not since you’ve disturbed my peace with your insanely loud music!” he answered. This was why I hated him. One minute, he was a normal person who I could tolerate but the next minute, he turned into the Grinch who stole Christmas! He was mean, bitter and irritating, a perfect combination to wait out a storm with. I was tired with all the worrying and felt myself falling asleep. But the sound of thunder combined with the itchiness that being covered in floodwater brought, kept me awake. My fellow refugee, on the other hand, dozed off

easily. I stood up and looked around to find people crying and struggling to stay afloat on different items. Little kids were making paperboats and playing with them from where they were seeking refuge. There was no sign of the clouds clearing anytime soon and I wondered how my parents would take the news of the flood or of my expected death. They would be shattered but there was no way to reach out to them and let them know that I was okay, atleast for now. I saw that the people on the terrace of the building next to ours had a radio. I asked them if there was some information about how long the storm would last or if there were going to be any evacuation measures and they replied saying that all they knew was that lives were lost and predictions about

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue change in the weather varied over different stations. “You are a guy! Jump over a few terraces and find out stuff!” I said, walking back. He didn’t respond. “I didn’t say anything that could have offended you!” I spoke loudly this time. “React!” He shivered a little bit and I was scared. I felt his pulse and it seemed weak. He seemed to have a rise in temperature. The guy was ill and the rains would only worsen it unless he was medicated immediately. “I’m going to go downstairs and get my medicine bag.” I said. “It is flooded.” he said, slowly. “I can’t let you die here!” I said. “I’m going to go. Just relax and put on my blanket.” He caught my arm, trying to stop me.

“I’m a doctor. Trust me.” I said before running down to reach my room. The door was open and all my things were floating around. The water had reached my waist level and was rising at an alarming rate. I hurried to the cabinet and by the time I escaped that floor with my bag, I was soaked downwards from my neck. After giving him a vaccine shot and making him gulp down a few pills, I stood in the rain to get rid of the flood water from my body. I slept due to the exhaustion of swimming and woke up to find myself wrapped in a blanket with water pouring from the tank above, blocking the entrance to our tiny enclosure. “Thanks for taking care of me. I feel a lot better now.” he said, smiling at me.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue “Next time you blame someone for ruining your sleep with their chaotic music, try to find out if they are some kind of a doctor trying to relax after a hectic day of saving people.” I said. “My mother was a nurse.” he said. “I’m sorry.” “That explains why you are a neat-freak.” I said. “I’m sorry too. I should be more hygienic and not shove my waste pile towards your door. Or annoy you when you’re sleeping. Wow, I understand why you hate me!” “Only child?” he asked, laughing. “Yes.” I answered. “I’m trying to adjust to living alone and being a responsible adult.” “I’ve been raised by a strict single mother. And when she died, I became this person who is angry all the time.” he said.

“You should surround yourself with happy people. Laughter is the best medicine.” I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. We spent another day in a wet state, hoping for a miracle while getting rid of the misconceptions we had about each other. Humanity still existed and it was clear in the times of disaster. The people with the radio kept us informed about the developments from the government’s side to help us cope and supplies came in from all over. When the rains subsided and the flood receded, normalcy began to restore itself. I talked to my parents via some generous stranger’s phone and assured them that I was truly unharmed. I had lost a lot of my possessions but all that mattered was that I was alive and could

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue tell people the tale of how I survived a flood. And after the airport began functioning, I decided to go back home. Before I left, I went over to my new friend’s house, which was in a lesser state of mess than mine was and handed over a few CDs to him.

only way to save a person’s life. Sometimes, all a person had to do was instill positivity and passion into someone who had none left. In short, all anyone had to do was be human. And that was quite easy!

“These weren’t ruined. My taste in music is amazing and to know that, you’ll have to listen to these songs alone. I won’t be here to disturb you for a few days so, after you are done with all the volunteering work to help the flood victims, write a few poems!” I said. He responded with a smile and a few years down the lane, when I read the poetry collection of a previously lonely guy who survived a flood that changed his life, I knew that being a doctor was not the Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue About Swetha Sadanand: Swetha Sadanand is a third year engineering student residing in Bangalore and is a Malayalee by birth. Her love towards romantic fiction pushed her in the direction of writing when she was just fifteen. She is a member of her college webzine team and mainly writes novels, poems and shortstories. She also has a blog which she updates every fortnight. Her dream as a writer is to reach the level of the king of romances, Nicholas Sparks. She is a hardcore Taylor Swift fan and loves Christopher Nolan movies that mess with her mind. Email id: swethasadanand95@gm ail.com

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue I Don’t Know How I Feel

I don’t know how I feel. I feel good when I watch TV but when I come back to my problem, I don’t know how I feel. They tell me to relax but they don’t tell me how. They tell me to search my heart but they don’t tell me how. They tell me to do something about this

But how? I don’t know what I feel. I know I am scared. I know I don’t want to be. I know I am lost, I know I don’t want to be. I know that my heart will guide me, But how? When I don’t know how I feel. There are options opening. Each day has a new development.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Am not sure if this is good, It adds to my stress. I will have to make a decision soon… Why don’t I know how I Feel???

About Sunayna Pal: Born in Mumbai, Sunayna Pal moved to USA after marriage. She broke the chains of education and Corporate World to embark on her heart's pursuits. Started artwithsunayna.word press.com to teach and sell art for NGOs and became a certified handwriting analyst (sos4graphology.com) to help people understand themselves. In midst of all this and being a new mother, who loves gardening and photography, she also likes to write from her daily life experiences.. She has been published in

magazines and newspapers and many of her poems and stories are published in anthologies in India, US and UK. In her little spare time, she also maintains a blog at mannkiwindow.wordpr ess.com and can be contacted at sunayna.pal@gmail.co m She is currently working on a anthology of 51 stories of people who are of South Asian origin and have an experience to share of USA.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Blood Tears Broken Soul

of

a

Barbaric, psychotic, demented, Why did you kill me? I was your tiny angel, O Mother, Nurtured for four months, Strangulated, the next moment! Wrapped covertly in towel- soaked blood, That blood was yours! How could you lift your hands to smother me? Stabbed me 17 times! 17 times! you struck me; painting me black and blue and RED. Your hands did not shiver with this brutality,

What was my fault? Born a girl, just like you are, your mothermy grandmother was, What did I ever do wrong? Had god asked if I wished to be girl? Thinking of this massacre, my answer would be ‘No’. Cold blooded murder! blind, consumed with your desire for son, I would have given you what a son can’t: love, respect, care, friendship for life. You scarred my sister, Your blood stained hands,

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue gave me life, only to take away my ‘right to live’ In a country, where women are worshipped You did this to me! humanity is ashamed today! Beyond forgiveness is your act. When a daughter kills a daughter, What to expect from a man? What thoughts you had, when you sharpened your axe? Tell me… : butcher her mercilessly, conceal her body from the world, bury her... O brute, my tiny hands, toes didn’t cringe your soul? When you ravaged me with sharp knife, What a disgrace to human race! Animals are still better, For they kill for hunger, You stabbed me for mere gender!

About poem: Priyanka Chauhan writes a poem in memory of the four-month-old girl who was stabbed to death by her own mother in Jaipur. Questioning the regressive thinking, the poem dwells on female infanticide as the main theme.

About Priyanka Chauhan: Priyanka Chauhan is an English Literature graduate and later received MA in English from Delhi University. She completed her Post Graduate Diploma in Print Journalism from the Indian Institute of Mass Communication, Delhi. Having worked with PTI as a journalist, her articles have featured in The Times of India, PTI, The Hindu, Woman's Era magazine. She is an

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue ardent reader and a writer at heart. Her greatest achievement is being a full time mother to her little son. Reading, writing, blogging, travelling, gardening interests her. She can be reached at chauhan.priyanka01@ gmail.com or https://chauhanpriya nka.wordpress.com/bl og/

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time‌


December 2016 Issue Book Review – I

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue :Intro: Book Details: Title: We Will Meet Again Author: Tarang Sinha Genre: Fiction ISBN: 9789384382179 Type: Paperback Publisher: Gargi Publishers Language: English Pages: 189 Year of Publication: 2016 Price: 178 Buy Paperback: Amazon

The Blurb: Paridhi Mathur, dusky, beautiful, and single, is doing everything to keep her academic records high and her love life nil, but lady luck keeps frowning at her.

Despite regular warnings from her ever-suspicious heart, she inexplicably gets attracted towards him. But she would not let him trespass her soul. Why? Is she scared of mendacious face of love her past has inflicted on her? Can Paridhi really trust Abhigyan? Will a blissful breeze of love ever kiss her heart? A heart-warming saga of dreams and desires, We Will Meet Again promises to make you smile and cry at the same time. Hold on to your hearts before embarking on this roller coaster ride of emotions!

When she meets Abhigyan Ambastha, rich - devastatingly handsome, intense and sometimes curt, her resolve wavers. Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue About The Author:

Tarang Sinha is a freelance writer and editor. She is an avid reader and active Blogger. Her works have been published in magazines like Good Housekeeping India, Child India, Woman’s Era and Alive, and a bestselling anthology “Uff Ye Emotions 2”. A science graduate, she holds a Diploma in Creative Writing in English from IGNOU. 'We Will Meet Again...' is her first novel.

:Book Review: The Cover: The cover of the book is eyepleasing and perfectly captures the mood of the book. The girl in the picture staring into the horizon with dreams and aspirations immaculately describes Paridhi's character. Narration: The story has been narrated by the protagonist herself. This helps the reader see how Paridhi sees life and feel what she feels. It is the no-pretence, straightforward style of story-telling that makes this book delightful. Language: The language is simple and easy to understand. Less verbosity, more brevity. Reading the book is relaxing and at no point will seem like an intellectual exercise in itself.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue The Characters: Few and real characters is what makes this book a breezy read. No overtly dramatic parents, no vamps, no plotting villains. Paridhi, the protagonist, is a mass media student living in Delhi. Abhigyan is the perfect man that every girl dreams ofa young, goodlooking, wealthy young man. There are many other interesting characters such as her roommate, her best friend, and her family that seems astonishingly familiar. The Review: Love stories are always in vogue. It's always a good idea to curl up on a sofa with the quintessential romance novel on a lazy Sunday afternoon. We will meet again is one such story. I will not

exaggerate by saying that this is a unique love story with the most unexpected twists and turns. It is at heart, a sweet and simple story of a college girl, young and beautiful, who meets a charming young man and then begins their interesting journey onward. The story celebrates love, friendship and family making it an absolute joy to read. I particularly liked reading about the relationship that Paridhi shares with her best friend and with her sister. It is interesting to read how her ideas about Abhigyan and their effective relationship evolves. The plot is fairly simple and straightforward- the same old Bollywood formula that you have perhaps seen in movies. What makes this book stand out, to

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December 2016 Issue the authors credit, is the lively and real conversations that happen between the characters. They are conversations from our daily lives that we have with friends, parents etc. This helps the reader connect with the book. What I liked: The book is full of clichés. However, this very trait of the story seems quite endearing as you read on. The simple plot, uncomplicated characters and easy language make the story believable. You can relate to the characters and their lives. Paridhi, independent, strong and confident, in may ways epitomizes the modern Indian girl. The description of the hostel, the assignments, the lectures is bound to take the reader down the memory lane.

What could have been better: The story remains largely predictable. Poor editing has taken a heavy toll on the overall reading experience. The usage of Hindi is not supported with English translation. This might impact the readers who have little or no knowledge of Hindi. The story has been narrated by Paridhi which leaves little scope for the readers to understand how Abhigyan feels. The book left me wondering what Abhigyan's side of story would be like. Overall, it is a light read, the one that will cheer you up. If you want to take a break from all the intense reading, this is the book to grab. 'We will meet again' is a great debut and I wish the

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue author success!

all

the

Rating: Blurb: 4/5 Narration: 4/5 Writing style: 4/5 Editing: 3/5 Excerpt: 4/5 Overall rating: 4/5 Review by Ketki Yennemadi

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Author Interview – I

Creative Writing in English from IGNOU. 'We Will Meet Again...' is her first novel.

Today we have Ms. Tarang Sinha the author of “We Will Meet Again"

Tarang Sinha is a freelance writer and editor. She is an avid reader and active Blogger. Her works have been published in magazines like Good Housekeeping India, Child India, Woman’s Era and Alive, and a bestselling anthology “Uff Ye Emotions 2”. A science graduate, she holds a Diploma in

The blurb of his book reads: Paridhi Mathur, dusky, beautiful, and single, is doing everything to keep her academic records high and her love life nil, but lady luck keeps frowning at her. When she meets Abhigyan Ambastha, rich - devastatingly handsome, intense and sometimes curt, her resolve wavers. Despite regular warnings from her ever-suspicious heart, she inexplicably gets attracted towards him. But she would not let him trespass her soul. Why? Is she scared of mendacious face of love her past has inflicted on her? Can

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Paridhi really trust Abhigyan? Will a blissful breeze of love ever kiss her heart? A heart-warming saga of dreams and desires, We Will Meet Again promises to make you smile and cry at the same time. Hold on to your hearts before embarking on this roller coaster ride of emotions!

Welcome Ezine:

to

Writer's

1. The book 'We will meet again' is a story about finding love.

What led you up to this book?

A short story that I wrote (in Hindi) when I was just starting out. But, I thought the idea was too broad for a short story, so I left that story unfinished, but the idea didn’t leave me. It kept whirling in my mind until I decided to give it a new shape. 2. Paridhi Mathur, beautiful and young, in many ways epitomises the modern Indian girl. What inspired such a character?

Being beautiful is just a literary coincidence. ‘Being modern’ is a state of mind, and your thoughts and attitude define it. So, I would say my own beliefs and strength helped me to craft Paridhi’s character. 3. If you were to choose a favourite character from the book, apart from the

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue protagonist Paridhi, who would that be?

Abhigyan hands down. I really enjoyed writing him. The way I made him react. He seems perfect but he is not. His life seems perfect, but deep down, it’s not. I missed him when I submitted the final edits of my manuscript. 4. Given a chance, what is that one thing that you would like to change about the book?

Ah! Can I skip this question? Writing is a learning experience, and making mistakes is inevitable when you are learning. There’s always room for improvement. So, thinking about changes disturbs me. I tell myself constantly that I must stop thinking about my first book, and move on. I don’t know about other writers, but for me it’s difficult.

5. Is Paridhi in some way a reflection of Tarang?

Paridhi’s world and life is entirely different from me. But, Paridhi is my creation and as I have said before, she bears some of my thoughts and beliefs. The way she reacts, sometimes. So, those who know me closely may find my reflection in Paridhi. 6. If you were to sum up the story and its message in a single line, what would that be?

It’s not always about falling in love; sometimes, it’s about growing beautifully in a relationship. 7. Tell us about your favourite book. Is it a love story?

Naming just one is difficult but if I must then it has to be ‘The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Divakaruni’. It’s not love story, but carries various

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue

shades of emotions. It’s a fictional version of Mahabharata from the point of view of Draupadi. I have always believed that Mahabharata is a very advanced story and is quite ahead of its time. Female perspective really worked for me! 8. The story oscillates between the good and the bad sides of love. What is your take on love?

Love should inspire you and enrich your emotions and your personality. Love is about caring and respecting/trusting each other. I don’t believe in designer dialogues. Your behaviour – the way you react, shows it all. Love should be unconditional. If it’s not unconditional, it’s not love. 9. Was 'We will meet again' the first choice for the title of the

book? Or was it a choice out of many? What helped you decide?

No. But, it was not a choice of many either. I was very clear about the title of my book. It is the outcome of a dialogue (one of my favourites) of my book. 10. Do you have any interesting writing habits or pet peeves?

Font. When typing. I can’t write if I don’t like the font. When writing (on paper), then it’s the flow of the pen (basically my handwriting). It irks me if the pen doesn’t flow well. Thank you very much for your time.

Interview Yennemadi

by

Ketki

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Best Friends

The sun was was looking down upon us with a ferocity as we sat on the swings in the playground. We were two seven year olds stuffing our faces with Cheetos which left a trail of neon orange crumbs on our fingers and school uniforms. But that did not concern us in the least. We continued shoveling down the crunchy orange snack till we found what we were looking for. "Ugh! It's another Jigglypuff" I said. Exasperated. I should have bought the grape soda, I thought as I finally started to notice the scorching heat. I had blown the last of my meagre allowance on a Jigglypuff. I silently cursed my rotten luck.

"What did you get?" I asked him, trying to catch a glimpse of the Tazo in his Cheetos pack. "Here." He said holding out his hand, a Mewto Tazo in the palm of his hand. "Wow". I said trying to put on a brave face. I did not want to sulk. "You can keep it." "What?" "Keep it." "Why?" "Because it makes you happy." "Thanks." I said pocketing the Tazo. It was that simple. Two seven year olds sitting on a swing on a hot summer day, swapping Pokemon Tazos. And just like

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue that we friends.

were

best

I do not know how many packets of Cheetos we ate that year or how many Tazos we swapped, but I remember thinking that I would always be best friends with this boy. He was the boy who tied the brightest colored band around my wrist on friendship day He was the boy who stood up for me when I was bullied for being the shortest girl in class. He was the boy who taught me how to play cricket. He was the boy who comforted me when I missed an A grade. He was the boy who helped me carry Nancy Drew books from the

library when my backpack was overflowing with books. He was the boy who laughed till his eyes watered as he watched

me gobble down a popsicle and get a brain freeze. He was the boy who told me silly ghost stories about the allegedly haunted east wing of our school.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue And then just like that, one day he was not my best friend any more. He was just a boy I went to school with. Swing sets are forgotten. Being friends with a nerd is termed social suicide. Caring is for losers. And before you can bat an eye you realize you've broken things beyond repair. We had grown up. All the Tazos, friendship bands and popsicles will not mend the damage adult hood wreaks.

who helped me realize that there is no such thing as best friends.

About Anusha VR: Anusha VR is a Chartered Accountant with a penchant for traveling and reading books. Her short stories have appeared in various anthologies such as III Goan Anthology, In a Flash, Death and Decoration, It’s an Urban Style of Love and Kindness of Strangers.

I had forgotten about this boy. Buried the memory of him down with all the other unpleasantness adulthood brings in its tow. But as I clean out my closet and spot a beaten up plastic box chock full of Tazos I think about this boy Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Observation

Observation is a unique act of looking at God’s creation. Our surrounding is stuffed with a variety of things. Sometimes few things present in our surrounding amaze us. We get awestruck about the fact of their presence, creation, look etc. No matter how simple or ordinary those things may seem, they are the power houses of uniqueness in the sense that nothing can replace another thing. From observation comes motivation. For example, this piece of article has been influenced by certain observations made by me. Morning hour motivation comes to me through observing the components of nature. The nature has got vivid imageries and when you start to

spend time with nature, you’ll certainly get mesmerized by the way things have been put in their places. It feels great in the act of chasing those white doves, with the stealth footsteps, which seem to have descended down from heaven to quench their parched throat from a limited reservoir leaked from the water tank over the terrace. Now I realize why those birds have been tagged as the symbol of peace and serenity. It’s even their slight glimpse that brings peace. They are the vehicles of the air; flying high to touch the limitless sky. Then a flock of birds in the sky draws my attention. On close observation, that flock seems to have led by a bird-might be more experienced in comparison to the other in the group.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue The sunset view is breathtaking. The fierce hot burning yellow colored cosmic body, Sun turns orange, pink then gets absorbed amidst the vast stretch of clouds. The clouds, fundamentally, the agglomeration of numerous tiny water droplets, bear the shades of a color pallet at different instances. On closely observing, I find a resemblance of those yellow and peach colored clouds with

those of the cream over an ice cream cone. The sky radiates the colors of a painter’s brush or I’m watching a creation of the greatest painter, the almighty, I just

can’t differentiate. The commotion on the other side of the boundary of the hostel drags me close to the boundary of the terrace. When my foot takes me there to have a glance, I find a bunch of toddlers playing with clay- in the lap of nature. Neither the darkness of the surrounding nor the responsibilities of the life scare them off. They are like free birds flying carelessly with the passage of time. The cold blowing breeze makes me light and I let myself get blown with watching the activities of those notorious kids. It makes me realized how quickly my childhood days have passed. The floating of cotton with the breeze in the atmosphere creates the scene picturesque.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue It seems as if there is a unique combination of summer and winter as the spread of cotton in ground resembles snow. The darkness of the sky is now accompanied by a silver colored celestial body shining prominently with other numerous tiny stars. On observing the moon closely, I find many unidentified scars over it which reminds me of a tale that my grandma used to narrate in my childhood days. The gist is- Once a hare visited moon and it got lost there. That’s why the shape of that lost hare is still visible. There was no congruency of that tale with the reality but we as children were fascinated by it. As the night grows thick, the flickering radiance from the other side of the river resembles

little candles spreading the light amidst the ever growing darkness. A thick layer of grey colored fume ejected out from the chimneys of the industries diffuse in the tar colored background in the backdrop of many colored lights of the structures turning on and off synchronously. Now, the tall structure of the transmission tower stands still in front of my eyes. I recognize it to be of suspension type with few discs hanging down. I wonder how it is different from the famous Eiffeil tower. I mean, that ordinary tower can be analogous to the famous Eiffeil tower. The road, in the other side of the view, seems to be invisible but the tiny moving vehicles. Their positions can be traced by the light emanating from them which looks like a

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue video game being played in front of me and yes I’m the spectator. My vision can chase few moving lights performing rectilinear motion and then disappearing. Sometimes, it seems as if a competition is going on when a vehicle overtakes another. Everything seems magical and the air takes me to a completely different realm of imagination. Everything around us has got so much to give. It seems as if the inanimate things want to convey us a message of eternity and peace. What is required is to lend an ear to their unspoken or a keen observation.

About Swati Sarangi: Swati Sarangi is currently pursuing Masters Degree in

Electrical Engineering. She has always been so inclined to reading and writing since childhood days. She has contributed her works to school and college magazines, different websites like learning and creativity.com, bonobology. She actively participates in various literary competitions and has won many prizes at school ,college and national level. She writes in her blogswww.creativeconstellation.blogsp ot.com and www.wordstoworldblo g.wordpress.com .She has contributed her works to the ezines like Agnishatdal and Agnijaat. Two of her poems got place in Addiqtd Book of poetry by LJLF,Shades of life and The Stage.Contact her through swatisarangi@gmail.c om

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue It’s All in the Eyes

Description: Colour sketch / artwork of Human's best and loyal friend.

About Riya Jain: 16 year-old artist.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue I Sit and I Wonder

I sit and I watch I watch the world bloom As my life seems stuck In this strange white room Leaving behind the hurdles of yesterday As I en route for tomorrow It becomes tougher, as they say Inept to abate the present sorrow I see two eyes peeking from the zenith And I step back, hiding before they adjudge My fate, I know is a hapless truth Back to the chamber I slowly trudge

I sit and I listen I listen to the world’s cheerful chant I know my world shall glisten A sapling always grows into a plant The sun goes down, the night falls over The moonlit sky beams over its luster There shall be a torrent or will it be a shower? The clouds make it dark as they slowly muster I hear soft whispers My name being spoken I listen in the murmurs

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue As my heart stays broken I sit and I stare I stare at the mirror Chaotic is the glare As the mist grows clear Beholding the pleasant sight I touch my smiling façade I notice the jaw muscle with a fright The blood marks aren’t set to fade When I see my replication My heart skips a beat Shaking my head in frustration To my world, I retreat I sit and I cry I cry my heart out My head spins, my hair dead & dry Choked amidst anger and doubt

Inspecting through my blurred vision Whose fingers touch me as I silently weep? I see a route that opens up the prison Sated with the sight, I finally sleep…!

About Radhika Mundra: Radhika Mundra is the founder of Expressing Life, a multi-niche blog and an intense storyteller. In her early twenties, she is a commerce graduate and a Chartered Accountancy finalist by profession and a writer by passion. You can find her at www.expressinglife.i n or mail her at radhikamundra99@gma il.com

I see two hands Reaching for my face Putting behind the loose strands Wiping out the droplet lace Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Book Review – II

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue :Intro: Book Details: Title: Penumbra Author: Bhaskar Chattopadhyay Genre: Fiction ISBN: 9788175993815 Type: Paperback Publisher: Fingerprint Language: English Pages: 206 Year of Publication: 2016 Price: 162-Amazon | 187-Flipkart Buy Paperback: Flipkart | Amazon

The Blurb: In the middle of one of the worst storms to hit the city, a mysterious letter arrives for Prakash Ray, an out-of-luck journalist, inviting him to a quaint, suburban bungalow, to celebrate the 60th birthday of an uncle he has never heard of . ..

As Prakash reaches the venue, he is introduced to a motley group of people, all gathered there for the old man’s big day: his son, his reticent brother, a dignified middleaged lady who once owned the bungalow, a listless lawyer who manages his legal affairs, a mildmannered young man who works as his secretary, his beautiful, young biographer, and his mysterious friend, who has never lost a game of chess to him. As the storm lashes on through the night, one of the people in the bungalow is murdered! In a game of cat and mouse that follows, Prakash soon finds out that under the surface of apparent warmth and friendliness, nothing is as it seems and that the bungalow holds one shocking secret after another! In a bid to save his

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue own life, Prakash hunts for the truth, which lies in a mysterious penumbra of shadows and lights, covered in a sheath of deceit and guile, only to realize that the worst is yet to come!

About The Author:

'Make sure you have three clear hours when you pick this book up, because you won't stop reading till you've finished it.' ~ Arunava Sinha 'With Penumbra, Bhaskar Chattopadhyay has brought back the cerebral sleuth to the annals of crime fiction. A fantastic whodunit.' ~ Anees Salim

Bhaskar Chattopadhyay is a writer and translator. Bhaskar's novels include 'Penumbra' (Fingerprint 2016) and 'Patang' (Hachette 2016). His translations include '14: Stories That Inspired Satyajit Ray' (Harper 2014), 'Shiva' (Penguin 2016), 'The House By The Lake' (Scholastic 2014), '12 Stories by Hasan Azizul Huq' (Bengal

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Light Books 2015) and 'No Child's Play' (Harper 2013). Bhaskar lives and works in Bangalore, India. :Book Review: The Review: ''Mysteries abound where most we seek for answers'' -Ray Bradbury The more we look for answers, the more ways we find, the more we therefore experience. Isn't it? It's when we get into depth of something only to realize more layers to scrounge and dig in. Penumbra by Bhaskar Chattopadhyay is a fantastic novel which revolves around not one but two murder mysteries in the same house. The protagonist of the story Prakash Ray, a journalist by profession is invited by his distant uncle, Rajendra Mukherjee for a celebration of

his 60th birthday. Mr. Mukherjee is a famous painter of his time and owns a grand house in a secluded area. The only connecting dot in between Prakash and Mr. Mukherjee is Suhasini. She had died while giving birth to Prakash. After thinking for hours he decides to join the birthday party, though a bit hesitant. When he reaches to the venue, he finds all new faces. That's when all the characters of the book comes into the light.The birthday celebration halts when dead body of Mrs. Mukherjee is discovered. The entire house delves into fear and suspicion. And just then another murder takes place. This time its Mr. Rajendra Mukherjee's. Everyone in the house gets terrified with the possibility of more murders. What if the

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue murderer is still in the house? Janardan Maity, a sensible man with his natural detective skills observe minute details and comes up with surprising yet reasonable statements every now and then. The suspicion lies over each and every individual present there but a significant evidence remains missing. The mystery gets entangled when Prakash Ray and Janardan Maity hear different stories and try connecting them -- Narendra (Son of Mr. Mukherjee) who led to the accident of Nandita Choudhari's daughter, Preeti's relationship with Mr. Mukherjee, Nandita Choudhari's false statement about her husband's death, overheard conversation between Preeti and Mrs. Mukherjee which ended with ''this

serves you right'' and the love triangle of Arun, Preeti and Animesh Sen. All these get weaved together to leave nothing conspicuous. But, this is all? or are there more mysteries yet to be discovered? What could be the motive of the murderer - revenge, greed, jealousy or something else? What if the murderer was an outsider and escaped immediately after his purpose was accomplished? To unveil the mystery curtains you need to read the book and it's sure to give you goosebumps. I would like to appreciate author for his brilliant efforts in maintaining the essence of mystery and suspense till the last page of the book. What I liked? I liked the book title - Penumbra, which

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time‌


December 2016 Issue means partially shaded outer region of the shadow. It's catchy and goes perfectly with the story-line of the book. The book cover looks classic with white background and blood stained palm, gives the perfect feel inside outside. The plot of the story has been constructed masterfully. All the characters in the story are welldeveloped and sounds way too real. I admire the character of Janardan Maity, a man with extra-ordinary wit and mannerism. The narration is intrigued enough to keep readers glued till the last page.

Why should one read this book? For all those who are looking for a nail biting mystery and a suspenseful read, this book opens a door for you to anticipate the next possibility only to give another twist.

Rating: Blurb: 4/5 Description: 3.5/5 Writing Style: 4/5 Editing: 4.5/5 Excerpt: 4/5 Book Cover: 4/5 Overall Rating: 4/5 Review by Simran Kaur

What I disliked? I thoroughly enjoyed reading this masterpiece. However, I felt that police investigation part could have been better.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Author Interview – II

Today we have Mr. Bhaskar Chattopadhyay the author of “Penumbra"

Bhaskar Chattopadhyay is a writer and translator. Bhaskar's novels include 'Penumbra' (Fingerprint 2016) and 'Patang' (Hachette 2016). His translations include '14: Stories That Inspired Satyajit Ray' (Harper 2014), 'Shiva' (Penguin 2016), 'The House By The Lake' (Scholastic 2014), '12 Stories by Hasan Azizul Huq' (Bengal Light Books 2015) and 'No Child's Play' (Harper 2013). Bhaskar lives and works in Bangalore, India.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue The blurb of his book reads: In the middle of one of the worst storms to hit the city, a mysterious letter arrives for Prakash Ray, an out-of-luck journalist, inviting him to a quaint, suburban bungalow, to celebrate the 60th birthday of an uncle he has never heard of . . . As Prakash reaches the venue, he is introduced to a motley group of people, all gathered there for the old man’s big day: his son, his reticent brother, a dignified middleaged lady who once owned the bungalow, a listless lawyer who manages his legal affairs, a mildmannered young man who works as his secretary, his beautiful, young biographer, and his mysterious friend, who has never lost a game of chess to him.

As the storm lashes on through the night, one of the people in the bungalow is murdered! In a game of cat and mouse that follows, Prakash soon finds out that under the surface of apparent warmth and friendliness, nothing is as it seems and that the bungalow holds one shocking secret after another! In a bid to save his own life, Prakash hunts for the truth, which lies in a mysterious penumbra of shadows and lights, covered in a sheath of deceit and guile, only to realize that the worst is yet to come! 'Make sure you have three clear hours when you pick this book up, because you won't stop reading till you've finished it.' ~ Arunava Sinha 'With Penumbra, Bhaskar Chattopadhyay has brought back the cerebral sleuth to the

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue annals of crime fiction. A fantastic whodunit.' ~ Anees Salim

Welcome Ezine:

to

Writer's

1. Firstly, congratulations on the grand success of your book ‘’Penumbra’’. Tell us a little about yourself and about your journey to becoming a writer.

Thank you, Simran. I was born in a small town called Cooch Behar in the northernmost part of West Bengal. But my father was posted in a town called Dibrugarh, in Assam. So I grew up in Assam, finished my schooling there, came to Kolkata for my undergrad and graduation, then went on to do my MBA and joined Eveready Industries for a Sales & Marketing job in 2004. I worked in Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue

various organizations and in various roles for more than 10 years and then I gave it up to pursue writing as a career. I have been writing ever since I was a child, but I thought of taking it up seriously only around 3-4 years ago. As a child, I used to write stories, essays, anecdotes, funny descriptions of people, I even used to write short notes on my own interpretation of the movies I used to watch – some of these notes date back to the time when I was ten or eleven years old. I remember I had watched the Hindi movie ‘Haathi Mera Saathi’ as a child, and I had written a sixpage long essay on how the film could have been made better! Needless to say, it was a very amateurish exercise, but when I think back now, it seems to me that my love for writing must have originated from

those little diaries of mine. I wrote sparingly in school and college magazines as well, and a few of us even had grand plans to start our own magazine. But then, as I went on to do my MBA, writing took a backseat, until 201213, when I had some free time in my hand, and I translated a book by veteran writer Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay, purely as a hobby, and with absolutely no intention of getting it published. But one thing led to another and HarperCollins made an offer on that book. It was then that I realized that I could take up writing a little more seriously. 2. Penumbra has a strong plot with intriguing narration. How long did it take you to write it? Will you stick to the same genre?

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December 2016 Issue

I don’t remember exactly how long, but it surely wasn’t more than 3 weeks. What I do remember though was that I wrote like a madman! I locked myself up in my den and wrote for tentwelve hours at a stretch. By the time I had finished, I had to call my physio in because my back was completely messed up. I also remember the entire process had affected me quite a bit – psychologically speaking – I used to remain very disturbed and irritated, and it took me almost a week to come out of that ‘mood’. As a writer, I’d like to explore various genres, although I must say that thrillers and mysteries interest me the most. I’m also very keen on writing comedy, but I’ve realized it’s one of the most difficult genres to be working in. It is easy to scare

people, but it’s very difficult to make them laugh. 3. The characters in the book appear quite natural. Are they inspired from real life or is it just a figment of your imagination?

A bit of both, you see? When I build a character, I use my imagination to create the framework and the basic structure, but alongside, I also give him or her traits that I may have come across in the past, in people I have met, just to make them more real. Let me give you an example. Let’s say I decide to write an irritated character. Very well, so here’s my character – a middle aged man, worn out, exhausted, extremely grumpy – fine. But I’ve met several such men in the past, and I’ve observed them keenly, I know what they do, how they talk, what they look like. So, I

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue

take some of those traits and give my character an extra coat of paint, and they come alive. I personally think a writer must be a very keen observer. 4. What is that one message that you would like a reader to carry back from your book?

I’d probably say that the human mind is a fascinating thing, a beautiful entity – one worth a lot more artistic exploration. We often hear people say – ‘Hey, what’s going on inside that head of yours?’ – and if you think about it, it’s a question that we ought to ask more often, or at least wonder at more frequently. The complexity of the human mind is a subject that I’m very interested in. Feelings and emotions like guilt, love, fear, angst, – these are things that capture my

imagination. Through my books, I always like to tell my readers that what you see in front of your eyes is not always what’s really happening. If we were to slow down a little bit and think – truly think – about what’s going on around us, in our interactions with other people, we would probably end up learning a great deal about human behavior. And that would bring empathy. It’s a recurring theme in all my books. 5. What are the different languages that you translate in? (As a translator)

I know three languages – my mother tongue Bengali, Hindi and English. So far, I have translated from Bengali and Hindi to English. I’ve done the other way around in the past, but I’m more comfortable translating into English.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue 6. To be a good writer, one should be a good reader. We know you enjoy reading books. What are the best books you have ever read? Name any five.

My favourite authors are Jim Corbett, Jules Verne, Agatha Christie, O. Henry and Satyajit Ray. ‘The Carpathian Castle’, ‘Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea’, ‘Journey to the Centre of the Earth’ – these books grab my interest even today. ‘The ABC Murders’ is my all-time favourite mystery novel – I’ve never read anything like that in my life, at least in that genre. I like Jim Corbett for his writing style and his philosophy – ‘The Man-Eating Leopard of Rudraprayag’ is a book that I go back to even today, just for its descriptions. I also love the short stories of Satyajit Ray and O. Henry. Ray’s story ‘Bishphool’ (The Venom Flower) and O.

Henry’s story ‘Compliments of the Season’ are my favourites. I’ve also learnt a lot from Tagore’s writings, one of the most important lessons being – how to say a simple thing in a simple manner, without having to take its inherent beauty away. 7. Would like to know what are you working on next?

My next novel is titled ‘Here Falls the Shadow’ – it’s a mystery novel, and is a sequel to Penumbra. It hits the stores in February next year. I also finished novelizing Satyajit Ray’s award winning feature-film ‘Nayak’. Right now, I’m working on multiple projects at the same time – a translation of Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s beautiful Bengali novel ‘Aranyak’ (Of the Forest), a high-octane urban thriller named

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December 2016 Issue

‘Impasse’, and also a couple of filmscripts – a period drama and a psychological thriller. 8. What are inspirations?

your

People. People and ideas. Also the human mind. I love watching people – I like watching how they behave, how they talk, how they interact with each other, and I’ve often seen that some of the most extraordinary stories emerge from these simple observations. I’m also inspired by children and their ways and manners. There’s more to learn from a child in an hour than one can possibly hope to learn from days spent in a library. Because unknown to themselves, children do an excellent job of holding a mirror up to you.

9. As a child, what did you aspire to become as grown up?

I’ve always wanted to become a writer and a filmmaker. I’ve always been fascinated by the world of books and films. I’m not very good at anything else. 10. Share with us the other skills you have.

I don’t have any other skills worth mentioning. I love food – I don’t know if that counts! 11. What advice would you give to all those aspiring authors who consider you as an ideal?

I can assure you, without any doubt, that there are no such people, nor should there ever be. As a writer, I have never idolized anyone. In fact, I’ve never been in awe of anyone ever in my life. Why should anyone else be in awe of me? That would be restricting yourselves way too

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December 2016 Issue

much. I’d say set up a goal for yourself, but let that goal not be dictated by the achievements or personality of another person – no matter who he or she is. If you are an aspiring writer, there’s only ONE thing you should be doing – you should be writing. Forget about everything else – nothing else matters. Just write.

walls or build bombs. Thank you for reading books, and for using the wisdom you gain from them in being nice to others. Thank you very much for your time.

It’s been my pleasure. Thanks for your time Simran.

Interview by Simran Kaur

12. Message for the book lovers in this world!

Thank you! For loving something so beautiful! Thank you for sharing and spreading joy and love in this world. Thank you for putting your time and more importantly your faith in the finer aspects of life, when you could have otherwise used both your time and your faith to promote hatred, divide people, draw lines, erect Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Writing Promptly

“Everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” - Sylvia Path Flashback time! Go back to your school days – way back – Grade 1, 2, 3 – Recall the essay writing classes and competitions. The first step of these activities was the

“topic.” Cut back to the present day. As a writer, you must be aware of the concept of writing prompts. Simply stated, writing prompts are topics on which you focus to create various forms of literary output – blogs, stories, nanotales, poems, essays, novellas – the list is endless. Writing prompts occur in many forms – a single word, a phrase, a situation, a foreign word, an image, an opening sentence, a first and/or last word or phrase, three terms that must be used somewhere in the passage, words that should be used for inspiration but not actually used in the

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue piece of writing, a popular song, a word whose antonym or synonym should be used, or a character/situation sketch. Prompts may be genre-specific, example, horror, fantasy, romance, science-fiction, and so on.

For an entire year, leading daily, Times of India, ran a storywriting competition in which passages were provided by 11 prominent Indian authors. Participants were given specific directions on how to

tackle the prompts and the authors judged the stories based on the defined rules. The competition was wellreceived and season 1 of the Write India Campaign is over but you can register and watch out for Season 2. This is just one example; if you search

the Internet for writing prompts, your computer will be flooded with sites and blogs containing thousands of prompts, inspiring you to write everything and anything from zombie romances to pirate tales. There are many books that offer 365

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time‌


December 2016 Issue days of writing prompts, just like 365 days of devotional passages. In the United States, November is the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The prior month of October was flooded with discussions, ideas, plans, and prompts to help kick-start a whole moth of writing flurry. I started using poetry prompts in April 2016, when I indulged in Twitter poetry or poems in less than140 characters. I fell in love with the medium, the word limitation, the poems, and the prompt hosts on Twitter. In this fabulously alive community, the hosts are breathing life into the world of prompts and poetry. The hosts give beautiful words, art and thoughts to work with each day and then painstakingly tweet

the poems to promote and encourage commendable work. As William Shakespeare famously said, “Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain.” When I started using prompts and related hashtags through my Twitter handle @tweetoeuvre, my Twitter following grew by leaps and bound. These followers were likeminded lovers of verse and words. It was a great outreach approach and it brought feedback and reinforcement. Without these prompts and the strong community indulging in these, my words were lost without an audience. This closeknit community of micro-poets is ensuring there is never a lonely or boring moment and an amazing collection of poems are created in the process.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Following and using prompts helps to build readership and feedback community. You can read and respond to other writers, and get innumerable viewpoints a single prompt can generate. It can give you a benchmark since other people will also be tackling the same prompt in their own styles. As numerous human minds and personalities create, varied perspectives and notions emerge. This gives you an impetus to give each prompt your best shot. It is not just writing for yourself; it is an exercise that will be rewarded with feedback and applause. Words are magical; writers are magicians; reading prompt-based writing is a great way to see the myriad connotations and expressions a word can have for people.

Writer’s block is a reality. While this malady is often caused by a dearth of ideas and concepts, the absence of writing discipline also adds to the slump. Prompts provide stimulus to work on new concepts and promote a daily or frequent writing habit, which is an antidote to the malaise of the writer’s block and procrastination. When your little muse is playing hide-andseek, go and search for a writing prompt! As is true with any form of exercise, regularly writing for prompts helps to build your skill through practice, boosts your writing stamina, and enhances your penmanship and your portfolio. Goals make striving for something, easier. Writing prompts give you goals. “The

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue discipline of writing something down is the first step towards making it happen.” Lee Iacocca Prompts provide varying levels of challenge. Sometimes a prompt can enable a smooth flow of words but many a times it can make you reach out for the dictionary. Interesting words can encourage background research and reading related and available material. Prompts, as mental joggers, enhance vocabulary, knowledge, and keep your interest alive; all of which are essential ingredients to banish writer’s fatigue. “How do you know what you know until you have written it? Writing is knowing.” – E.L. Doctorow Some prompt hosts offer opportunities to be published. I participated in the #poetsforpeace

hashtag prompt and my work was featured in The Peace Poem, 2016. This is a collaborative collection of poems from around the world published in the Praxis Magazine online. This monumental collaboration is also archived in the Stanford University Archive of the 100,000 Poets for Change collection. Enthusiastic poets have an opportunity to participate in this annual exercise next year. Recently, Galaxy of Writers (@galaxyofwriters) published a collaborative short story collection where entries were solicited on the theme of hope. The book Around the Corner gave voice to a few new writers. They are also running an interesting experiment in Spoken Poetry under the

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue hashtag SereneEuphonines. If you are working on a novel or any literary piece with the intent of being published, you can use your responses to prompts to create short stories and incorporate excerpts into your work. Prompts are ideagenerators to embellish a work-inprogress. Did you know,

Margaret Mitchell wrote Gone With The Wind in random chapters and then put them down together into a bestseller. As Neil Gaiman says, “Write the ideas down. If they are going to be stories, try and tell the stories you will like to read. Do it a lot and you will be a

writer. The only way to do it is to do it.” If writing for prompts doesn’t allure you, there are some other strategies to promote your writing habit and fill up your idea kitty:

Journaling: This is usually a personal exercise and the output is private. The writer jots down random thoughts, may be dreams, and personal experiences. Journaling essentially demands self-discipline and is as addictive and useful as writing for prompts. It can promote a writing schedule and pattern. Small chunks of material add up to a presentable piece. Journaling is

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue promoted as a way to deal with issues and troubling thoughts. But it is a popular creative tool providing outlet and insight to many beginners. It slowly builds confidence through development of writing mechanics. - Timed Sessions and Chasing a Word Count: NaNoWriMo or writing a 50,000 words novel in 30 days is the best example of a targeted approach towards completing your writing project. Challenging yourself and working within a community of writers, with a set target of time and words, can be the impetus you need to make to the finishing line. However, many creative writers find the prospects daunting and many editors find the manuscript quality discouraging. This methodology can be helpful to get your

ideas on paper and solicit feedback. Well begun, is half done! - Blogging: This is another addictive tool with its promise of an online fan following and faithful critics. Blogging can easily become a rewarding habit. It changes the writer’s outlook by rewiring the mind to be always on a lookout for topics and the best ways to present ideas and information to readers. Writing Bursts: Another interesting concept where you employ short, timed bursts of writing, example, writing about anything within a 10-minute time frame, or whenever you have time. Robert Graham advocated this method and used it in his writing classes: “Every class I teach begins with a 10minute writing

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December 2016 Issue exercise, which I call writing burst. I give a stimulus and ask the class to start writing, keep writing for 10 minutes and not to worry for one second about the quality of the work appearing on the paper.” This exercise combines the benefits of personal writing, promptwriting, and creating for consumption by a writers’ community. Becoming a PromptMaster: Writing is as much about training the mind as about mechanical skills. You can create prompts for daily writing by using a quote, phrase, word, situation, or image that excites and inspires you. Your prompts could just be thunderbolt of an idea; carry a writing

device so that you do not let brilliant strokes slip through your fingers. If you are getting published, you can start a prompt-based writing or thoughtcollection Twitter handle to publicize

your work. Prompts can help you leverage social media for selfpromotion. Jean Jacques Rousseau made a valid point on the need for writing regularly, “However great a man’s natural talent may be, the act of writing cannot be

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue learned all at once.” This article has given you many ways to start writing promptly. If you use prompts or are going to use them to fuel your creative pursuits, I would like an answer to a question that often comes to my mind. If prompts are the source and means of your ideas, who has the creative ownership on your work created using prompts? Ideas are intellectual property; do you still have a right over pieces created using writing prompts and ideas shared by others? Definitely, a question to ponder upon!

publications in an IT company. Mother to a primary school-going child, she also indulges in the craft of crochet. A voracious reader she has an everexpanding book list and an envious relationship ith her Kindle. She blogs at www.felinemusings.co m and dabbles in 140character fiction at @tweetoeuvre. Aneesha can be contacted at aneesha.myles@gmail. com.

About Aneesha Myles Shewani: Aneesha Myles Shewani is a full-time professional, managing technical Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Dear Zindagi

Dear Zindagi, Even addressing you makes me smile. Generally, smile signifies happiness but the curve on my lips right now is full of mixed feelings. It is full of my happy memories but also a few embarrassing moments. It is full of thoughts that never leave me. It is full of people who either left me or are still with me. It is full of cold breeze that kissed me on that lonely day. It is full of tears that escaped as he hugged me. It is full of emotions that need another lifetime to explain. You know, what’s the most interesting part of you? It is that someday you make me feel that I know everything about you

and the next day you cover me with clouds, doubts and uncertainties. You’re a true mystery and of course my true, mistress. Remember, on that day in park when my college was about to finish, I was with my junior and my lovely friend, Divya. We were staring at the long, never ending blues of life when I started crying followed by Divya. We knew no one was there in the park except the two of us but we felt there’re so many to forget. I was in a contemplation with my present and future. I was afraid of what would future be like. I was afraid of losing friends, my best friends. I was afraid of how I would be molded. And after that thoughtful day, I decided to join Infosys, the safest step. Today, I am working here, in fact I am

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue writing this letter in my office. I don’t regret coming here but I also don’t want to stay here. Infosys is famous for its Mysore training and truly it is worth a part of your life’s experiences. I had been in hostel since my college days but distance between Delhi and my hometown in Haryana was like driving to another end of Delhi. It felt like home. When I first landed in Mysore, the first thought that came to my mind was “India is two-faced”. I couldn’t understand local folks’ language and to be very honest, their face expressions too. But you’re like “Let’s move on”. And I did so. I followed you with a smile. I used to look at the girl in my beautiful room’s mirror and wonder “Why are her eyes so sad?” That girl appeared lost to me. Her eyes reflected

loneliness. I pitied her and started hating that place. I eagerly waited for my training to get over. I tried to travel a lot during that time. It was an escape as well as a kind of rejuvenation for me. I had friends but no one. I wandered in a group but alone in a room. It was like a long night with a stranger. And then I learnt that you don’t need anyone to enjoy with. And then, you took me to Pune. A place full of new people and Marathi’s sev. It was so better than Mysore. I tickled you with happiness when I saw Hindi on hoardings and everywhere else. I had to find a place for myself and then set it up. It was so troublesome, Life. But thinking of it right now, I feel that you gave me once in a lifetime adventure. I feel wonderful how I

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue managed everything without my parents’ help. I used to hold you tightly because of pampering my mom gave me. I used to take you for granted because of assurance my dad gave me. But you, like a good teacher, took me out of my pampered zone to a place where I had only you. I want to bow down at your feet for doing so. Because now I feel “Independent”. I feel self-sufficient which I always wanted to be but never told you. You know me better than I do. Actually, I know nothing about myself. It’s just you holding my finger and taking me everywhere before you leave me.

Sometimes, you lead me in someone’s arms to make me realize if I can be a part of their life. And sometimes, just to let me understand myself more. Recently, I was so drunk crying over you while another life restored my faith in you. In the morning, I woke up to a realization that being alone is an illusion. You’re always around the corner with one face

or another. Now, I see people in the morning running in their cars, bikes, scooters or on feet without you. I try to look into their eyes

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue but crinkle on their foreheads repel me back. I hardly find anyone who has a big smile while wishing the new sun. It’s all full of formal “Good Morning”. I feel safe here but it also feels confined and sometimes, it is so suffocating. I feel my creativity dying. Most of my colleagues are unhappy and they always speak about leaving the company but I know they’re afraid of becoming a part of the outside world again. They complain but don’t act. While I look at them, you whisper in my ear “Don’t be like them, you’re my love not a machine”. But Life, I feel nervous. I doubt myself. I want to be like you, loving and rude as per the call of time. I want to learn to say “No” like you. I want to learn to move on like you. I want to learn to be detached from wrong things just like you

leave people. I want to learn to stay like you stayed by my side no matter how hard I was with you. And I know, you will teach me. Because that’s what you do. You’re a teacher, aren’t you? I have just one never ending complaint from you and that is I can’t hug you enough. P.S. I love you and I am not going to ask you to stay forever because, you have taught me “Forever is a lie”.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue About Viditi Bhargava: An IT professional who loves to read and sometimes, write. She is a tea addict and loves to travel. In her free time, She likes to explore photography stuff across the web. You can read her thoughts at http://www.poeticlac es.com

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Soul Charmer – Richa Saxena

Soul Charmer: Synopsis: This book is a trivial, yet long dreamt attempt to portray love in its entirety. Love, as simple, or as profound as it can be, embraces every human

relationship. Through this book, the poetess dives into the vast ocean of love and brings out the poetic pearls. All through the book, various hues of love are reflected. Love, in its most innocent form, when it is

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue between a daughter and a father. Or then, in the most sensuous form, when it is between a man and a woman. Perhaps, in its most gruesome form, when it is clasped by the chains of patriarchy. And, the most powerful of all, the kind of love where one discovers their true self- the love for one’s own being. The book explains that love does not always happen between lovers. Love also serves to inspire someone. To fill the void with hopes. To cry for someone. And when the purpose is accomplished, to move on. To move on to a new journey. To create more memories. To always remember, that someone somewhere always keeps you in his prayers. It can be your lover, your parents, your

soulmate, or a complete stranger. We meet many strangers in our journey. Some influence us; some comes as a lesson. Some become a reason. ......to help you complete the journey. To make you dream big. To make you love yourself. And this book is an ode to all kinds of love. This is what, “The Soul Charmer” is all about. Blurb: Remember the first time you uttered those three important words expressing your love or the first time when you said 'goodbye' to your loved one. The first time, you got a jolt in your heart or the first time you held a life in your arms. Richa Saxena has tried to put forth a compilation of thirty-five surreal poems that would

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue recreate that magic and unleash your deepest thoughts. Seasons must have passed by, but that feeling still remains in the heart. Her poems would revive those very thoughts, the ones said and the ones that remained unsaid .

Excerpt from the ebook: Unfulfilled Dreams If dreams were to turn into a reality, You'd be mine, Lighting up my grim life And bringing the sunshine; Taking you in my embrace, Would have melted Like the candle that turns into waxFor the love of flame. If dreams were to turn into a reality; 'I' would have merged with 'you', Creating an 'us',

Trudging through the mazes, To find solace And how passionate would this unison be, Like the onset of springJust after the autumn, Withered and dreary, Only if... dreams were to turn into a reality..... To the girl in love Let him be a perfume, That allures your soul; With its whiff, And, to bring in – The much desired fragrance, To feel his essence. And if, yetHe decides to fade off one day, The mild aroma of his being, That stuck onto your soul... Shall keep alive; His presence, His effervescence. Soulmates A star gleamed up there, And a star glistenedRight underneath,

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue In his arms, In his titanic embrace; Lost was she in the trance, And her body writhed; She moved and he gasped, Fast paced; And then she lay still, A moan followed by a faint giggle; She shone crystal like, Like the mighty starUp in the sky; The pinks of her turned rosy, And the browns of skin, Turned cosy; And, lay there she… In his galaxy, Dazzling like a diamond, Like a star.

About Richa Saxena:

“Before I say final Goodbye; let me touch your soul”. A soul charmer, indeed. A dreamer. A tale knitter. Plays with words like fire. There is a fire in her heart that keeps her going. Meet her once and you would become a fan of Sir Isaac Newton. “Every action has an equal and opposite reaction”. To know more, bounce your ideas on her and you’d

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue know. A qualified Company secretary. A law graduate. Content writer. Content curator. Copy editor. A writer. A baker by passion. A hacker who hacks into people’s mind and digs out their real self. Not a rule book follower. A typical Sagittarian. Impulsive. A homebird . A rebel. A woman of substance. A doting mother. A caring wife. A proud daughter.

bleeding her thoughts on the blank canvas, loves to be with her family, travel, and explore. A voracious reader. Danielle Steel fan. Tea addict. She is a book that you cannot leave unread. That’s Richa Saxena.

Different roles, different shades. And she plays them all with Elan! Words come to her naturally and she bares her heart out to the world. Writing is an escapade for her. She lives in her words. A childhood love with words that turned into a serious relationship with time. When

she

is

not

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Egg Gravy

Who would say ‘No’ to an egg recipe?

Even the vegetarians added this cuisine to veggie list. I am no exception to deny the fact that I love Egg Recipes and Egg Gravy

tops my list. It is simply delicious. Come let’s prepare this mouthwatering cuisine. Prep time: 10 Minutes | Cook time: 30 Minutes | Total time: 40 Minutes Serve: 2 (Servings) | Recipe Category: Egg Recipe | Recipe Cuisine: South Indian Cuisine

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue

Ingredients: Eggs: 3 Oil: 3 tbsp. Mustard Seeds: 1/4 tbsp. Cumin Seeds: 1/4 tbsp. Onion: 1 (Big Size) Tomato: 2 (Medium Size) Ginger Garlic Paste: 1/2 tbsp. Salt: To taste Turmeric Powder: a pinch Jeera Powder: 1/4 tbsp. Coriander Powder: 1/2 tbsp. Chili Powder: as per the spicy meter.

Coriander leaves: few (to garnish)

a

Instructions: 1. Heat up the pressure cooker, add eggs after washing cleanly and add three cups of water. Pressure-cook it for two whistles (10 minutes). 2. Once the pressure is released, remove the shells and rinse the eggs in cold water. Once it completely

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue cool, cut it into equal sizes. 3. Heat the pan first, and then add oil. Add mustard seeds, as soon as it sputters, add cumin seeds and stir for a minute. 4. Add onions and fry until it becomes translucent. 5. Add Salt and Turmeric Powder and stir it once. Then add Ginger Garlic paste and fry until the raw smell goes off. 6. Add Tomatoes and cook it until it turns mushy. 7. Add Red Chilli Powder, Coriander Powder and Jeera Powder. Mix it until it combines properly. 8. Add two cups of water and cook it until the oil floats on the top. 9. Add the eggs (Cut into equal sizes in step no. 2) and stir carefully to avoid any damage to the yellow part.

10. Switch off the stove and garnish with coriander leaves. 11. Transfer the gravy to a bowl. We are all set to eat the tastiest Egg Gravy. Kids just love it!

Tips: #1: This goes well with Rice and Chapathi. #2: Adding Jeera Powder and cumin seeds helps in digestion. #3: Prefer to add salt right after adding tomatoes or before adding tomatoes. It helps to sauté faster. #4: I am using pressure cooker to boil the eggs faster. You can also use a pan or the egg boilers available in the market.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue

About Vinayaka Vidhya: Vidhya is a funloving girl from India, married to Sarav, living in Bengaluru. She is a food blogger at Vinayaka's Kitchen by passion and a writer by choice. She loves cooking cuisines from around the world, writing short stories, reading romantic novels, and decorating home magically. She can be contacted at contact@vinayakaskit chen.com.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue How Blue Sapphire

is

My

All of us live with our past. All of us allow it to shape our future. But some of us know how to shrug the past. I think that is who I am… At an exorbitant speed of around 120kmph our brand new WagonR was running smoother than butter on the newly built expressway. Minni, at the backseat was constantly poking her elder sister and they were laughing their hearts out. Even Tim seemed so excited to be with them after so long. He wagged his tail nonstop crazily! I stole a glance at the front mirror at my husband. He winked. I couldn’t help but laugh with them! I had been waiting for this very moment for

the past six monthsfor my kids to come home for vacationsand a ‘full family’ long drive! It was a gala family moment; when out of the blue, within five seconds, our laughter and smiles turned into screams and shrieks! No joke. Our car ROLLED OVER complete 360 degrees… THRICE. My family had a major car accident…TODAY Five secondsto transform our ‘galaday-out’ to our ‘doomsday’… Just FIVE seconds… Tinni, my elder daughter succumbed to her head injuries on the spot…I saw the shreds of windshield which bore right into her skull… and the gory blood oozed out of them. Minni- has been in ICU for the whole day. My husband- rendered cripple for the rest of

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue his life, lost his right hand. Tim- survived major injuriesglass shredded his skin, giving deep wounds. Me- Safe and sound, not even a scratch! An unlucky escape! Just returned from the cremation ground, after attending the LAST RITES of my DAUGHTER. Have been feeling numb the whole day. My husband will have

to quit his job. Our financial resources will

undoubtedly deplete fast and I have to come out of this black hole faster- I know it well. I promise myself to live once again. Not that I have forgotten Tinni; but because I have to live for the sake of my younger daughter. I have my husband; I had pledged to dedicate my life. I can see his lifeless face. Apart from losing his daughter, he is also feeling worthless losing his limb. Tim is gloomy, not for himself… he too is suffering with us. The family is shattered and I noticed this now when I came out of my own gloom. I won’t let this happen to them. After all, it’s truly said- it’s onto a

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue woman- make the home or break it! Minni will recover fast, I am confident. Even the doctors agree. I won’t spoil her life. I am planning to make certain changes to help us overcome our grief. Firstly, we shall change our locationNew town, new home. Then, with the amount of saving we currently have; we can start a small grocery shop of our own. I will be taking full control of it, with my husband’s help. One lost hand can’t end a man’s life! Next, I will focus all my energy to nurture my daughter. I will keep her engaged with all sort of recreational classesdance, music, sports and meditation. I will spend all my free time talking to her- about how she spends the day at school, what new

she learns and what good deeds she does. I will make her learn that every good deed she does will help her sister’s soul rest in peace. I am a tough woman. I keep myself away from negativity, no matter how harsh the days are. It can be very dangerous- a small negative thought entering the brain is capable of multiplying rapidly millions of times and no sooner you will realize you have actually procrastinated all goodness away from your life. Nonetheless, am not a saint. I am a human being, a mother above all. And no matter how much I try to keep myself busy, I will still cry when I will see the two sisters smiling in the huge family photograph on the drawing room wall. I will still weep my heart out when I

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue will see my lovely dress gifted by her on my anniversary. My tears will refuse to stop when I will abruptly get to see her pretty birthday frock in her cupboard. Even years ahead, I will remember her when I cook her favorite ‘Dahi bhindi’ … I am no saint. I am a mother, who had a happy small family this morning. Out of the blue, my world has turned upside down. Life always gives us lessons. The oars in the boat are always available. Either you take charge of the boat else the currents will take you where the waters flow. I salute myself in front of the mirror for my courage. I feel proud, not every woman can show this courage. And then, the next moment I am already crying bitterly, because… I

am no saint, I am a mother…

About Nupoor Raj: Nupoor is a writer turned author with her 1st novel "it won't be the same". She has been involved in a lot of story and poem writing contests and had been an active participant in school magazines. She is also a national level Table tennis and state badminton player, exhibiting her versatility.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Love, Lust & Love

She woke up, startled. She was not sure whether it was a dream or she had really heard some noise. She checked the time in her phone. It was 3:30 am. It must have been a dream, she convinced herself and settled back in bed. She heard it again, louder this time. Someone was throwing stones at her window. She jumped out of bed and rushed towards the window and she saw her boyfriend standing on the street and looking up towards her window. He waved at her when he saw her. He straightened his jacket and then rubbed his hands together to generate heat.

She rushed to the living room and rang him in. She put on a

robe and opened the main door. The moment she did she saw him step out of the elevator. She let him inside the house. He took off his jacket, thankful to be inside her warm house. “What took you so long to come to the window? It’s freezing outside!” he said as he sat on the couch. “Yes, it is freezing outside and that’s why everyone is in their house, keeping themselves warm.” She said. “What are you doing here anyways? I told you I do not want to talk to you, I need time.” She added after remembering their fight of couple of days ago, he had been trying to get in touch with her since then – calling her incessantly. Finally, she had blocked his number and now here he was – in her house. He knew very well that she would not leave

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue him stranded on the street, not in this weather. “Look, I am sorry. I should have not lost my temper and acted out. Give me a chance to explain.” He pleaded. “Stop it. Stop harassing me like this. You cannot come to my house at 3:30 and start explaining yourself. Just leave.” She said. “It’s freezing cold…” he said gesturing towards the windows in the living room. “And it’s started raining now plus I do not have a car.” He said and stood up. She stepped back. “What do you mean you do not have a car?” She asked. “Meaning – I did not drive here. I walked.” He clarified.

“You walked all the way over here?” She asked surprised. “I was in a nearby bar.” He confessed. She rolled her eyes. “Take my car but just leave.” She said but her voice was lost in the loud thundering. Both of them looked towards the window. It had started to rain heavily. She knew it was not safe to drive and he knew she knew. “Fine. Sleep on the couch. Leave when it stops raining. Do not bother to wake me up.” She said and started to walk towards the bedroom to bring him an extra blanket and pillow. That’s when she remembered there was a man in her bed! --They were best friends in college. She and

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue her. They connected immediately when they met for the first time. Everyone said they were soul sisters. Her friend was often misunderstood because of her i-carea-damn attitude. “Girls are jealous because they cannot be like me and guys are jealous because they cannot get into my pants.” She told her. It was she who had introduced her to the man who was now sleeping in her bed. They soon became a group. Partied together, went out camping together, studied together and watched movies together. “Don’t fall in love with him” her friend told her often. “No, I won’t. I do not want to ruin what we have!” she always replied to her friend.

“Cool! Let’s go, he is waiting for us.” Her friend said putting her arm around her. The fact was – each time she told herself that she was not supposed to fall in love with him; she found herself getting attracted to him. Every morning she left her house reminding herself that he was their common friend. The attraction she felt towards him was wrong and she had to put an end to it. However, each day when she saw him she forgot her resolve. As he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, her heart skipped a beat. He shared her sandwich as they waited together for their friend in the college canteen. Sometimes, when her friend had an extra

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue class, he and she would go for a ride on his bike. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sat closer to him as he rode fast. Sometimes she worried that he would hear her heart beating fast inside her chest as she sat with her breasts pressed against his back. She loved being close to him. They’d return before the extra classes got over and then the three of them would study together in the library. Maybe her face gave away her secret or maybe her friend said it casually like she always said “Do not fall in love with him.” “No. Absolutely not” she told her friend, feeling her heartbeat in her throat. “It was too late” she knew.

She had to tell him how she felt before it became too much to bear. She had already started losing her sleep over him. She thought about him all the time, she dreamt about him, she fantasized about him. The next bite she took after he had taken a bite of her sandwich she visualized him kissing her on the mouth, she actually smelled his breath and tasted his saliva as she ate the sandwich. She wrote about it in her diary and it sounded gross even to her as she read what she had written. She had to tell him. She had to. She had made up her mind to tell him; she called him one evening and decided to meet. “Café coffee day” sharp 5 pm.” She told him. He said he would be there. She

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue had spent hours getting ready for the ‘date’. She reached the café before him. She was tempted to call him when she realized he was late but she stopped herself. “Don’t be so desperate.” She told herself. Half an hour had passed when she finally saw him entering the café. He was not alone. She was with him, holding hands. Their friend. Her soul sister.

behind those words … “Do not fall in love with him because he is mine.” She put on a calm face even though she was scattered from within. She had seen it happen to other girls, she had seen it in movies. She thought she could handle being friend-zoned until it happened to her.

“Do not fall in love with him” the words echoed in her mind. How was she supposed to tell him that she loved him in front of her? Why had he brought her with him? Then, it dawned upon her. All of it. “Do not fall in love with him.” There was a hidden warning Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue They joined her at the table. A knowing smile on her soul sister's face. She knew. She knew why she was here and she had chosen

They were still holding hands. “Tell her.” Her friend said and she looked at him. He smiled. “We are getting married.” He

this moment to come out in open. They had ruined her moment. How long had this been going on? She wondered. Perhaps long before she came into the picture. It was her friend who had introduced her to him. She should have known.

said, straight to the point and then she kissed him on the lips, right there in the café, in front of her and others. People turned to look towards them. She felt embarrassed. They did not bother that people were watching them. He put his hands

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December 2016 Issue around her waist and she ran her fingers through his hair. Sitting there in front of them like a fool, she could visualise their tongues doing the dance and then the vision blurred. She excused herself and ran out of the café. They followed a moment later, not because they wanted to join her; they walked out because the café coffee day staff had asked them to leave. They called out her name as she continued walking without looking back. She never looked back. That was the last time she saw them. She avoided them in college. She did not attend their calls. The college had almost ended. Just a few months more and then they would be out of her sight, she told herself.

They gave up trying. They let her be. She had promised herself that she would not give up on their friendship if he did not accept her proposal; but this, this was different. She did not want to tag along as they exchanged saliva. She feared she would bang their heads against each other’s as they came closer to kiss. This was way different than just being friend-zoned. They had done this to her on purpose. She heard rumours later that her friend was pregnant. Then, she heard her friend had undergone abortion. People came to her with news, as if they were doing her a favour by giving her the updates of their lives. They asked what had happened between the three of them. Was it a threesome gone wrong? Someone had

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December 2016 Issue asked her sniggered.

and

It was too much to bear but she underwent all the torture because she had to finish college. Once she did, she moved on with her life. Until… “Hey! What’s wrong?” He asked placing his hand on her shoulder and she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Shit. Don’t do that.” She yelled. “Okay, calm down.” He said raising both his hands. “Let me get the blanket and the pillow, I will sleep on the couch and not bother you until you are ready to talk.” He said and started to walk towards the bedroom. “Wait.” She yelled. “Don’t go inside. Stay here. I will get the

blanket and the pillow.” Saying so she went inside and hoped he would not follow. She took out the blanket and the pillow and walked back to the living room. Thankfully he had not moved from where he was standing. She handed him the stuff and waited as he placed the pillow on the couch and opened the blanket. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. She watched him as he took off his pants. He stood there in his boxers and looked at her. Maybe, he was hoping she would go into his arms. She stood there watching him as he finally settled on the couch and covered his semi-nude body with the blanket. Tell him, a voice inside her head said to her. Tell him before it is too late.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue “Hey! What are you doing in the living room?” she heard a voice from behind her and she froze. Shit, she whispered. She turned around to look at him, the man in her bed had stepped out of the bed, walked out of the bedroom and was standing in the living room. “Who is this man?” she heard a voice from behind her. This time it was her semi-nude boyfriend who had stepped out of the blanket. She turned around to face him. “I will explain.” She said. “Is this why you did not want to talk to me?” her boyfriend asked and then the three of them were blinded by lightning and the thundering shook them all. Then, there was only the sound of rain.

She sat on a chair and held her head in her hands. “No, this is not why I did not want to talk to you.” She finally said. “He’s just a friend.” She clarified. “Why is this friend of yours walking out of your bedroom at this time of the night?” her boyfriend asked her. “Put on a shirt asshole and button your jeans” he said to the man. “Hey, mind your language.” The man retaliated and then turned towards her. “I thought you loved me.” He said. She looked up at him with a questioning look. Why was he making it worse for her? “It was a long time ago.” She said and turned to look towards her boyfriend who had put on his pants and was buttoning his shirt.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue “Let me explain” she said to him with tears in her eyes. “He’s the one from your college?” her boyfriend asked. “Yes.” She replied. “Okay.” He said. She looked at him. She wanted to kiss him right there, in front of the man from her past. She wanted to do what he had done to her once. He had chosen to push her away and now he wanted to come back into her life and ruin what she had. She would not let him do it. She would not. “Put on your shirt.” She said to him. “And go home when it stops raining.” She added. --It continued to rain for a long time. The three of them sat in

the living room fully dressed. She was glad she had told her boyfriend about the man from the past. She knew she would have to explain the man’s presence in her bedroom but she also knew that her boyfriend trusted her. He had been angry before when he did not know who the man was but his demeanour had changed once she had told him who the man was. That was the best part about transparency in a relationship. The subject of their argument had still to be addressed; she was not simply going to forgive him because of the guilt she felt for allowing another man in her bedroom. She knew nothing had happened between the two of them and now her boyfriend believed it as well.

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December 2016 Issue

“Can I stay a little longer?” her boyfriend asked. “Yeah, of course.” She replied and once again there was silence. The way she had dismissed him had silenced the other man. He now knew there was no way she was going to let him in her life. --He had seen her at the supermarket. It had been years but she still looked the same. Beautiful, as always. He wanted to get to know her again. She had been on his mind since his wife, one out of the trio, had told him what was actually happened at the café that day. She had chosen to tell him in a letter she had written

for him as she left him for another man. --“You would be happy with someone like her. You do not deserve to be with a free spirit like me.” She had written. The woman he had loved. The woman he had married. The woman he had a child with once. They both had felt that it was too early in the relationship and had decided to abort. Then, they had a longdistance relationship for a while as they studied in different universities and then finally had gotten married. Their marriage had been a roller-coaster ride. The sex was always good, but the understanding, the caring and respect was lost. The time to have sex was always her decision. He’d return

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue home tired from work and she’d start with the foreplay. He’d tell her he was tired but she’d anyways undress him and get on top. Whenever he wanted to have sex, she’d tell him that she was not interested and lock herself in the bedroom, leaving him stranded in the living room. On their last day, she had cooked dinner for him. They had sex, the best sex of his life; and then ate dinner in bed. He’d fallen asleep resting his head on her chest and had woken up hugging a pillow instead. She was not in bed. He had put on his clothes and searched for her. She was not at home. When he’d come back to the bedroom he had found the note under the pillow he had been hugging. He had never doubted that there was another man. He

should have known but he was a fool; a fool who was blindly in love with his wife. After reading the note he had thought about his friend, the other one whom he had left behind long back! He had tried to find her whereabouts. When he saw her at the supermarket he felt as if the universe was giving them a second chance. He walked up to her and surprised her. The way she looked at him, he knew immediately that his wife had been right. This woman loved him. How had he missed this during college days? He wondered. He was going to change that. After the chance meeting at supermarket he found ways to cross her path. He exchanged numbers with her, found out where she lived.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Found out that she had a boyfriend now. He found out that she had a fight with her boyfriend. He decided to capitalise on the situation. He found his way to her house. Before going to her house, he made two stops. One at a bar and the second one at medical store where he bought a condom. He was drunk when he rang the doorbell to her apartment. He had gotten lucky to be able to enter the building when another resident rang herself in saving him the trouble of having to wait until she rang him in. That way, his presence outside her apartment door was going to be a surprise for her. He could not stop staring at her as she opened the door to him. She looked beautiful. She was

wearing shorts and a tank top. “What are you doing here?” she asked as he tried to step in. She did not stop him from entering. That was a good sign. She asked him to wait in the living room as she went to the bedroom and returned wearing a t-shirt and track pants. He had used this time to take off his shirt. And, when she returned he started weeping. She rushed towards him and sat next to him on the couch. He hugged her and she wrapped her arms around him after a while. The touch of her breasts against his bare chest felt good; he wanted to take off her t-shirt and feel her bare skin over his. He had to wait for that, he reminded himself.

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue He let go of her and wiped his tears. He told her the story. The one he had rehearsed several times at the bar. The story that was partly true. He presented it in a way that indicated his life was ruined the moment his wife had walked out on him. Yes, he was hurt – his ego was hurt but apart from that he felt nothing. He knew their relationship was on the verge of an end. He appreciated that she fucked him one last time before leaving. The goodbye sex was fantastic. Yes, he was jealous that she left him for another man but he did not regret not having her in his life. He had a second chance here; to be with the woman who loved him, the woman who, it seemed, would be good in bed as well. He was aching to make love to her. Wild love that would make her beg for more. She would be the one under

him and not on top the way his wife preferred. He would be in control of the act. He would thrust into her and make her moan and he would come into her and not let her come until he was ready. He was going to enjoy her body to the fullest. He did not realize he had been staring at her breasts as he fantasized about her until she got up from the couch all of a sudden. “It’s late, you should leave” she said. No, that was not how it was supposed to happen. She was supposed to console him, he was supposed to kiss her and she was supposed to kiss him back and then they were supposed to make love. He got up to go, he walked a few steps and then collapsed on the floor. She rushed to

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue pick him up. He saw her rushing to the kitchen to get a glass of water. She splashed water on his face and he pretended to regain consciousness. Then, with her help he managed to reach her bedroom and get into her bed. He was getting closer … But, he fell asleep. Damn alcohol. When he woke up she was not in bed. He could hear voices in the living room. Her stupid boyfriend was in her apartment. He climbed out of bed, unbuttoned his jeans and then walked out of the bedroom.

--They sat in the living room without saying a word. She was sitting on a chair; her boyfriend was back on the couch and the man from her past was

sitting on another chair. Finally, she got up from the chair and walked towards her boyfriend. She sat on the couch and held his hand. He tightened the grip. Neither of them looked at the second man in the room. They waited for the rain to stop and when it finally did she broke the silence. “You should leave.” She told the man. He got up without a word and walked towards the door. He turned around to see her before leaving but immediately regretted doing so. This was not what he wanted to remember for the rest of his life. She was kissing her boyfriend. His hand was under her tshirt and she had wrapped her arms around his neck. Whatever misunderstanding

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue they had; the one he had decided to capitalise on was temporarily forgotten.

About Arti Honrao: Author of fiction books titled 'My Life story' and 'Is This Love & Autumn - The Last Leaf' and novel 'Resemblance - The Journey of a Doppelganger' Arti enjoys writing short stories on Relationships. She has attempted writing different form poems but most enjoy writing Prose poems where she gets to express without the limitations of words or rhyming. Most of her writings depict human feelings and emotions, which she tries to bring onto the page and into the minds of the reader. She believes that essence of writing lies in not only entertaining the reader, but speaking to them through words. She can be reached at contact@artihonrao.n et

Writer’s Ezine – Writing one word at a time…


December 2016 Issue Prompt of the Month for March 2017

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December 2016 Issue

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December 2016 issue  

The Origin: Writer's Ezine was started as a monthly literary online magazine (E-zine) with the intention of providing platform to emerging...

December 2016 issue  

The Origin: Writer's Ezine was started as a monthly literary online magazine (E-zine) with the intention of providing platform to emerging...

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