Category Archives: From a book lover

2B or not 2B?

Today, while surfing through Fcaebook, I came across this post on one of my groups and I couldn’t help share it here.



A Poem.

-Emily Dickinson


A thought went up my mind to-day

That I have had before,

But did not finish, – some way back

I could not fix the year,


Nor where it went, nor why it came

The second time to me,

Nor definitely what it was,

Have I the art to say.


But somewhere in my soul, I know

I’ve met the thing before;

It just reminded me- ‘t was all-

And came my way no more.

Book Suggestions, please!!

I don’t understand what happens, and how this happens, but as soon as the holiday season kicks in, I start losing myself to negativity and uncertainty. I start losing all the hope and faith inside of me, and give in to the terrible anxiety and fear. These times are really trying, and however much I try it is extremely difficult to come out of it easily.

As always my consolation comes from books, being the recluse that I am. But somehow, whatever I am getting hold of recently seems to be depressing, either there is someone who dies, or something that keeps the protagonist in constant misery, there is only pain and suffering in what I am reading too.

So, basically I need book suggestions that do not include any kind of heartache. Please, I am really clinging onto you guys now, I need to revive my faith and get back on the right track.

I want to start my new year with something that brings smile to my face, and not with something that leaves me dejected and wondering.

Anything, please…. (You must know I am desperate, if only to read something good.)



A Man With The Mask

Happy, ecstatic, joyous, exuberant, there is just no one word to define the feeling when someone special is going to take you out on a date.

And to make the occasion extra special I go to extreme terms and dress up just for him. With a little bit of lipstick, a red dress, and a pair of high heels I am ready right on time. Of course I’ll be ready on time, if I’d be preparing for hours. Restless, I check the windows for any sign of his car, the phone for any texts. And just a few minutes later a horn blows off, and I am pretty sure it’s him.

Hiding behind the curtains, I take a glimpse, confirming that it’s him. Then, composing myself I go to the door to welcome him. Out of habit, I look through the peep hole.

It is not him. There is no one.

The doorbell rings again, constantly.

It is definitely not him.

I look through it again. And I fall back a couple of steps, trying to hold onto something, to be stable. I have never seen such a creature in my life. There is a lean, bony man outside, looking right at me, right at that tiny hole, making his face larger. He is smiling at it, smiling cunningly. He has a dark complexion, with weird teeth, and ears too big for any human face. He is wearing a black mask. He is laughing; I can hear it through the sound proof door. And just when I gulp down the saliva from my mouth, he starts banging on the door, laughing, and screaming, ‘I am going to get you.”

I double lock the door, rush to the windows and lock them too. I run to my room, locking the balcony, bolting every possible door and window, increasing the claustrophobia within. The air grows thick; I am sweaty, unable to breathe, shivering with fear and rage. Doubt and apprehension fill my mind.

Where is he?

Who is this creature?

What is going on?

What am I supposed to do?

I rush to grab my phone, and somehow the battery is drained, wasn’t it charged about 80%, right before he was to come?

The landline is dead.

And then the power goes off.

The next thing I know is I am in my bed, hardly breathing, craving for some air, my mouth is dry, and the mascara from my eyes has spread beyond my pink cheeks. I lay quite, befriending silence, trying to listen to any sound.  I have one arm under the pillow, shivering, holding a small gun, when I hear footsteps.

It couldn’t be.

I locked everything.

The shadow neared.

And my terror augmented.

Any thought of the date, a someone special, was nowhere in my mind now.

And then that lean, dark and bony creature entered my room.

His laugh sent shivers down me, and all my mind could think of was “Why me?”

The mask was not my illusion; it was a confirmation, the only common link among all the recent rape cases in the town, of all the women who were raped and murdered. He was the same man, the man with the mask!

He was a serial killer.

In my house?

Our eyes met, and he bent to grab my legs.

I kicked and waved with all my might, tears stinging my eyes. I got up, grabbed the blanket and covered my body, and with the other hand, I held the gun, pointing right at him.

Only it was not a gun. Instead it was a bed side lamp.

Only, there was no serial killer in my room, there was no one.

Only, I had been dreaming, dreaming the plot of the book that I am currently reading.

All sweaty, and craving for some air, I put down the lamp silently, and yet hesitated to open the windows. My mouth went dry at the mere thought of the dream. Sure, it was just a dream but I had seen it too closely.

I gulped down a glass of water, splashing some onto my face and went back to bed not daring to go outside, not wanting to even take a peek outside, till the sun came up.


PS: Currently reading,  ‘A Thin Dark Line’ by Tami Hoag.


Diwali Preparation

As much as I love the festivities, I hate the preparations now, right after my hectic travelling and the burden of my work and studies. And yet, I could not have been avoiding it for long, so Diwali right around the corner, I had to get going with it latest by today. And the only part about the unwanted cleaning that I liked today was getting to go through my book collection and soft toys. As I do not have a proper place to keep my books, I have it stacked at my study table and every other place, but I love them all the same.

So here are some of my lovelies-








PS: I have always loved Noddy 😉


My Sister’s Keeper

Warning: I might end up discussing the story of the book too.

I was reading, so that I could kill my time, I was reading so that I could have a Sunday on a Monday, I was reading so that I could find out what actually happens to Anna, what about Kate? Will she live? Will she die? How is the family going to take it? How will Sara react when she finds out that her own daughter files a case against her and her husband, Brian? What is wrong with Jesse, their oldest son? What kind of chemistry do Campbell and Julia share, and what exactly is Judge, the dog for?

My sister’s keeper by Jodi Picoult has all the answers to it, and I was on the verge of finding them. Hardly did I know that by then I will be left shattered, once again. I really have lost count how many times a simple book has done that to me by now.

Devouring the last few pages of the book, digging my nails into the covers of the book, I realised that I was almost crying, at least on the verge of. I was battling hard to even breathe by now.

I mean, what, how, when, why???

It is then, that I realised that we have absolutely no control of our lives, we may think, we have, but no, we do not have even a grasp over it. I felt like a mere puppet playing the so called game, life.

We think we can control our lives, but all we have is a most shallow form of control, a simple interpretation of life, when in reality it is far more intense with lot many twists and turns which we can never in our rarest dreams anticipate.

Kate was the one suffering with some sort of cancer, Anna was the once conceived to donate her organs to her sister, then how come this end to a story?

The book is simply about Anna fighting for herself, but in the end what happens is really what I did not expect.

I kept the book aside, pages fluttering with the air, the ceiling fan really creaking down on me, and there I slept with the small lamp switched on, for the lightest hope to cling on to.



The Fictional Creation

They say be practical, but what if even that does not help you in life. One cannot expect someone to live with despair all life long, so instead is something impractical, something fictional helps you deal with the situations in a better way, then why not? Is some kind of fantasy makes you smile, some imaginary world hides you away from the harsh reality then why not?

Why not just then dissolve into a fictional creation, get simply lost into an imaginary world, talk to the fictional characters of the book and be happy instead of being the practical one, trying to deal with ‘life’ which mostly has been never dealt with, which ordinarily can under no circumstances be dealt with.