Showing posts from July, 2011

A Tale of A Nation

Saba stared around her, in a cool calculated manner. Even though clad in an un-chic salwar suit, she didn’t appear like the usual helpless woman, stranger to the city as was evident by the heavy luggage she carried. The bus stop was crowded & no one paid her any attention. Except 2 men. Each was standing at the farthest corner of the stand & was watching out for her. Saba gave them one look & nodded her head.
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Sinduhstan’s early morning newspapers reported another attack by terrorists in the commercial capital of the country. There were photos of victims splashed across the newspaper. Full-page photos of people with their guts all over the place. If there was a competition of the goriest picture ever published in media, the top prize would have been shared by Sinduhstan’s dailies. Kumar frowned, ”This won’t do.. these people had to be stopped.” And it was his duty to do that. He headed off to …

Stay Tuned For The 6PM Slot

I am a person who can’t put down a book until it’s finished. And Naomi Datta’s The 6PM Slot was a book that one can not put down anyway! No, it’s not a crime thriller or even a mushy romance involving teenage hormone high people. It’s a normal story involving adults. If I were to summarize it for you, you wouldn't be impressed, but I’m no Naomi Datta. She breathes life & adds humour to the story like one would add salt to a dish-perfect swad anusaar (excuse the lame simile).
We begin with the boss, the convent –educated, Power Point presentations obsessed Rahul & his boot-licking deputy Harish contemplating on how to lift their channel Youth TV’s TRP. At least Rahul is thinking hard, all Harish does is nod his head. Well, the boss comes up with the idea of bringing in a revolution-targeting the 6pm slot in their channel & giving it a whole new look. And all this has to be done quick. So enter Tania-the protagonist of the story. Stuck with a show dealing with celebrities…

When It Rained…

I glanced across the library hall. He was staring at me again. Why doesn’t he stop? Idiot. Some teacher would notice & we would get thrown out. But I couldn’t help smiling back at him. Abhi had the cutest smile & he looked the best when he was glancing at me surreptitiously, as if knowing well how it sent my heart racing.  We always played this game. Sit at the far ends of the hall, he on the boys’ side & me on the girls’, glancing at each other. He called it romancing with the eyes. No better term for it.
The clock struck 6. Both of us got up at the same moment, returned the books, grabbed our bags & left the library. Once outside, there was no need to stay apart. Soon his warm hand enveloped mine & we walked down the road to our favourite roadside stall. There was a light drizzle & a cool soft breeze blew my hair across my face. He took his time to pull it back. There were very few people on the road & even if they had stared I didn’t care. I loved these l…