Sunday 13 December 2015

my fictitious story #1

My fictious story-

So, there I was, sitting on my chair, thinking about random things in my mind...suddenly I thought about something unusual. We, as writers, try our best to create something which is never seen by the world. We want to write a story untouched, unheard or unseen by anyone...we try to create a story never told before, but ultimately, we end up writing something which has already happened in this world. 
Our planet has over 7.2 billion people, means 7.2 billion stories, and since a writer can write a story in many ways, we can assume that there may be trillions of stories out there. There is a really high chance that the one masterpeice that you think that you are writing, may already had happened. I know I am sounding like a pessimist here but let's face it writers- It is Probablity, right on your face.
We don't create protagonists...we find them. Some of us spend years to find the perfect protagonist who can present their story. Some just get lucky to find their 'masterpeice' right beside them...I belong to the latter category.
My masterpeice, my protagonist was right there, all the time, studying in my college. She was exactly the one I was looking for- Her heart-warming smile, which can transform anyone's worse day into a better one, her cute face which reminds me that innocence and purity is still out there, and of course her maturity and intelligence (a hard combo to find, isn't it?). It all started on November 2014, when I first met her. It was one of my friend's birthday and there I saw her- a shy, cute girl...kind of introvert. I got a feeling that she could be the the main lead for the story which I was trying to tell- the story of my life, but it took me nearly one more year to change the 'could' into 'will'... I am telling you all this because I hope that after reading this you guys won't make your protagonists wait. I wrote my own because she made it a special one and this blog post is dedicated to her only...
"Dear Naina, thanks for being the main lead of my story. It feels great to have you by my side. I hope when we grow older, we would add more chapters to this story, with same characters. Love you a lot."
-Your Siddarth


Saturday 17 October 2015

Book Review- S.O.A.R by Abir Mukherjee


Title: S.O.A.R- Success over Adversity Reigns
Author- Abir Mukherjee
Book type- paperback
Rating: ****/*****(4/5)

About the Author- Abir Mukherjee was born and brought up in Bardhaman, a small town of West Bengal. He is currently based in U.S.A having completed more than 8 years as an IT professional. He has completed his B.E in computer science and engineering in 2005 and started working in different software MNC’s. “S.O.A.R” is his second novel. Blackbuck publication has published his first novel, ‘As Life Has No Undo’.
About The book- I got this book from Author Paradise. Thank you, Tushti Bhatia. I was sleeping at my room when this book arrived. I had heard from social networking that the book is good and so on, but I never bothered to read it. It was a lazy afternoon and I thought—“let’s have a look at it”. I started to read it, and trust me, I couldn’t put down the book till its end…and it’s not just about the fact that the storyline and the plot is unique, and the narration was also good, but due to the similarities it struck with my life and my other 3 friends at my college. We 4 people are also aspiring for having a startup in our future, so did the characters in the book. But the coincidence does not finish here, the main twist is—the idea of the startup that was narrated in the book, that is, an interactive website for schools—schoolyard, was just as similar to our idea of starting up (except, we are going to do it for colleges). Therefore the storyline of the whole novel was actually related to our lives. I got this book almost a month before, I usually don’t take much time to read a book, and I read it in just 3 days, but I wanted my friends to have a read of this great book. So technically, you can consider it as a review of four people. And Abir sir, if you are reading this, then you would be happy to know that you’ve earned four new fans that also happen to be future entrepreneurs.

Pros of the book:
·        The plot and the storyline was something out of the box. You don’t see a novel focusing around startups coming out every day. The story was not about how successful an idea could be, but it was about what sacrifices you have to do when you stand by that idea. (If it includes the love of your life too).
      ·        The language was simple and crisp, easy to understand and the words seem to fit the situation completely.
      ·        Characters of Uday, Adhyayan were beautifully portrayed and every conversation of them fits the scene.


Cons of the book:
Ø Cover of the book could be much better as a lot of people purchase a book on the basis of their cover.
Ø Sneha’s character could be drawn to some more detail.
Ø Some spelling mistakes and typos are there but as an author myself, I can understand that happening here and there, but it really needs to be checked.

Overall this book is a must read for everyone who wants to do what they believe in, pick up this book, and you will not be disappointed.


Monday 12 October 2015

12th October 2015

So finally here is the last part of the BFF series, this time it is a happy ending :D Do like my page www.facebook.com/authorvishal​ and if you like this, Probably you will like my book First Love Matters, so Does the Second​ even more, check it out on amazon.in BEST FRIENDS FOREVER?? (FINAL PART) Death is like a joke—it feels like itself only when it comes in front of you as a surprise. There is no amusement in it when you know that how and when you are going to die. “Blood cancer, last stage, can do nothing about it now.” Ankit answered the unanswered silence which had captured Alia for a long time. She didn’t speak a single word since after Ankit told her about his disease. He was speaking about his death so casually that it felt like he was playing some kind of prank on her. But Ankit was in no position to play games with someone. “This is why I wanted to go away from you and from this city Alia, you remind me of the happiness and good things I had done in my life and it makes me feel like God is doing something wrong by putting me on this condition. I don’t want to die like a handicap in front of you and my family Alia. I want a lonely death.” Ankit added. Still, there was no reply from her. Alia’s silence was irritating him. He wanted her to speak—he wanted Alia to cry, to make him stop from going away…but she was standing there, almost lifeless. “Please say something Alia.” He said to her, almost in agitation. “Marry me.” Ankit heard a whisper which sounded like these two words. “What?” “I said MARRY ME.” Alia replied in a loud voice, loud enough to make Ankit silent for a moment. “Are you out of your mind? Do you think that it is some kind of a joke going on around here, Alia? I AM NOT JOKING, if it is still not clear to you.” Ankit screamed in loudest of his voice. He was trying hard to give an explanation about why he is going away from her and there she was, joking around about marriage. “Going far away from me and your family won’t make you live, Ankit. It will make things worse. I love you, Ankit…my love is not conditional. It doesn’t come with a clause that I am supposed to leave you when you are going to die. Everybody dies, but not everyone dies alone…in fact, you cannot die alone. Even the loneliest of person needs somebody to perform the funeral.” Alia replied. “So you want to perform my funeral.” Ankit snapped at her, he was surrounded by so much of his own pessimism that he wasn’t realizing that going away from Alia would just make him grow fond of his death sooner, nothing else. “I want to be with you till your funeral.” Alia said to Ankit and held his hand. For the first time in weeks, Alia warm and compassionate touch made him feel like he was still alive. “But you are not thinking practically Alia, after I am gone, you will be a widow…and this is not our age to marry. We are not outside our teenage properly, I will get jailed.” Ankit replied to Alia, to which she couldn’t stop smiling. “Practicality is not everything Ankit. If life goes on the basis of practicality, you would be the boyfriend of my cousin sister, I would be hundreds of kilometers away from this city and we would not be doing this discussion right now, and who needs a license for a marriage, idiot? I wasn’t talking about the ‘actual marriage’. Just Promise me that you would be with me till your last breath and we are done here.” Alia replied and hugged him. Ankit went silent for some moments. “What is there to think for Ankit? I am not even asking for an actual marriage.” Alia asked him while she was still in his arms. It was now Ankit whose silence was building up the tension of the room. “Say something Ankit.” “Will you live your rest of the life with me, till the last breath?” Alia asked. “Till the last breath.” Ankit replied, both smiled and they kissed…

Tuesday 8 September 2015

Link For First Love Matters...So Does The Second



So guys, the pre-order process of First Love Matters, So does the Second has been started on amazon. I will be posting a contest on my official page for the book. Just click here to go to the page, like it for more updates and you could win a personalized gift. To pre-order the copy of first love matters...so does the second, click here

Book Review- We Are Corporates by Sudarshan Nagrajan


Title: We are Corporates
Publishers: Blackbuck publishers
Book type: Paperback
Rating: 3/5

About The book- I got this book from Author Paradise. Thank you, Tushti Bhatia, for this book. It is said that the corporate sector is one of the sectors which can either make you or break you. It’s all about handling the pressure. If you want to earn money and follow a single monotonous routine for your entire life just to make money, then corporate sector is best for you, but that was not the life Ajay dreamt of, he wanted to do something different, so he quit his job and starts preparing for IBPS examination.
Meghna, a teenager who likes to live life on her own terms, is fired from the job because his boss couldn’t tolerate her irregularity and indiscipline. She didn’t want to work either. She just wanted to have fun with her friends and enjoy but she had already passed that phase of her life. Her parents constantly pressurize her to either go for another job or to marry. Finally she settles for marriage.
Suraj, a hardworking guy, who is the only source of income for his family, gets fired from his company due to ‘recession’. Due to troubled financial condition of his family, Suraj’s father starts working after the age of 60. He later decides to run his own business despite many problems and obstructions.
The positive point of the book was, that the plot was nice, realistic and the story was well narrated, but at the same time the lack of editing and proofreading makes the reader disappointed. I too, initially used to think that if you have a good story to tell, the grammar won’t matter. But I was wrong. Had it not been the sloppy editing and proofreading, I would have given it 4 out of 5 stars. But I am giving it 3 out of 5, hoping that the author would take care of the things mentioned in his next project. 

Sunday 6 September 2015

6th September 2015

So, here is the story which was featured in the FWBA magazine 'Unbound'. Hope you like it, and please like www.facebook.com/authorvishal
Sorry in advance for length :)

IF THERE WAS A GOD

 ©Vishal Sah-all rights reserved


IF THERE WAS A GOD…
When I was a child, I used to have a favorite hiding spot in my home. My mother would ask me to hide under the bed of our living room.
“Close your eyes and count till hundred, Then come out and find mommy Okay?” that’s what she used to tell me. I sometimes used to count only till fifty or seventy and start finding my mother. Sometimes I found her sitting in the corner of the kitchen, crying silently; and sometimes I saw her on her bedroom, trying to hide the bruises on her skin. My mother always used to tell me that God had punished her because I didn’t count to hundred completely.
“Please God, don’t punish my mommy. I promise I will count to hundred.” I would pray to the Almighty and would count till hundred. But still, I would find my mother crying in pain, trying to hide her blemishes on her skin from me. I was confused—why was God punishing mother even after I counted completely everytime? Was I counting it wrong? For years, I blamed myself for the miserable condition of my mother. But one day, I saw something—I saw him, shouting at my mother and slapping her again and again, She begged him to leave her alone, but he never listened. He was my father.
……………………………………………………………………………
“It’s been more than 25 years, mom. Why don’t you leave him?” I asked my mother one day when she was busy preparing gajar ka halwa for me. A perk of being home after a long time—is that you get to eat whatever you want, and that too home made.
“Why do you ask me the same question everytime?” she asked in return, without showing any signs of aggravation on her face. She was now used to it—the beating and the curses that she got to hear every single day since she had refused to ask her father for more money as an ‘investment’. Nanaji had already given my mom everything they had including the house that he had kept on mortgage just to help his son-in-law for the new business he wanted to invest in. But neither had his business succeeded, nor had he fulfilled the promise he gave to Nanaji that he would get the house released in a year. Eventually Nanaji couldn’t pay the debt and he had to move out and shift in a rented house.
“Because everytime I come home, I find you in a worse condition. He is a monster, mom. I can’t leave you with him anymore. You have suffered enough. Come to Mumbai.” I held her hand and told her. I could still see the cuts and marks on her wrists.
“It is nothing, they are just temporary.” She said when she saw me looking at her hands.
“But the pain is permanent. I don’t want you to live in this pain when you could live a better life in Mumbai mom.” I pleaded. My mother sent me to an engineering college as soon as I passed out from my school. She clearly didn’t want me to rot in that hell along with her, so she had sent me to Mumbai—far, far away from the shadow of my father, far away from her and far away from Delhi. We were a lower-middle class family so most of my college fees I paid were from scholarship money. Since I had no choice other than to study hard for years, I ended up bagging a pretty good job in a reputed MNC in Mumbai. I had my own flat, my own car and a servant. Being nerdy has its own benefits.
“We live in a society dear and I think you are old enough to realize that what the people will say if I do something like that.” My mother looked at me and gave me a smile, a mirthless smile to be precise. She was an ‘ideal woman’ for our mediocre society. She was supposed to leave her studies, kill her dreams, marry some stranger her parents thought could become her soul mate, and live a married life, no matter what. She was fulfilling these criteria pretty well by now.
“People are supposed to say bad things about you when you do something which they think are ‘out of the norm’. But you don’t have to worry about people. They will shift to some another topic as soon as they find one.” I said and tried to convince my mother once again.
“You know that isn’t going to happen. God is watching all of us. Sinners will be answerable to God one day.” She replied. I saw her eyes, they were moist now. She talks about God, sins and other things but she too knew that if there was a God, then probably she wouldn’t have to suffer like this.
“Do you really think that there is a God, mother?” I asked. “I don’t think there is, because if there was one, then you don’t have to get beaten everyday by your husband, You don’t have to live your life like a living corpse, You don’t have to live with my father, that monster…I wish he would be dead by now.” My voice was now raised. She knew I was right, but the ‘society’ didn’t let her accept that.
“Your father might come home anytime. I think you should go to your room.” She changed the topic immediately and got busy once again with her kitchen chores.
“He’s not my father. He is just a man whom I unfortunately share my DNA with.” I replied. She looked at me but said nothing. I left.
……………………………………………………………………………
I was still in my room when I heard the sound of the door bolt open. He was home. I was told by my mother not to interact with him unless it was very important as we both always ended up fighting. Our ideologies never meet. He always believed that women should be the ones sacrificing for the man of the family—let it be her ambitions, her dreams, her life, even her surname. But I always thought differently. I always supported the freedom of women to which he always used to say that “If women were meant to do other things, God wouldn’t have created men.” This was the level of ridiculousness my father had in his mind towards opposite sex. That was the reason my mother sent me to Mumbai just as soon as I passed out from school.
“Radhika…RADHIKA, where the hell are you?” I heard my father shouting for my mother.
“I am here.” mother replied to him.
“Did you ask your father for the money?”
“No, and I won’t because he already helped us as much as he could.” My mother’s voice was heavy now.
“What do you mean you won’t ask? You have to…I am ordering you.” My father told my mother. With his tone being louder with every word, I sensed that he came home drunk—just like most of the times when I lived here.
“My father has helped you in every way possible.” My mother said in disbelief. “He now lives in a rented house and you still want money from him? Don’t you have any humanity left inside, Sushant?” she said in disbelief.
“Now you will teach me, han?” I heard my father saying these words which were followed by two sounds of slaps. I could hear my mother beginning to sob. I couldn’t take it anymore so I rushed out of my room and stood in front of my father.
“How dare you to talk to my mother like that?” I shouted at him in full rage. I saw my mother who was still signaling me not to engage with my father and leave the room.
“This is none of your business.” he said and approached once again towards my mother.
“She is my mother and I won’t let anyone abuse her like this.” I replied and grabbed his hand firmly.
“Leave me you scoundrel, I am your father.” He tried freeing himself from my grip but you can’t expect a 50 year old drunkard to get rid himself from a healthy 20 year old boy’s grip.
“You lost that privilege a long time ago.” I replied, still not letting go of his hand.
“Leave him son, please.” My mom said who was standing at some distance, trying to absorb all the things which were happening at that time.
“But mom…”
“LEAVE HIM.” she yelled and started crying. I couldn’t see her crying so I left his hand but as soon as I did that, he grabbed my hair and landed several slaps right on my face.
“DO NOT ever try to come between me and my wife, you rascal.” he said and walked towards mother. She was still crying, but he dragged her to his room and closed the door. I could hear the sounds of beating and my mother pleading with him to leave her, and with every passing moment the sounds became more prominent. I was blank and didn’t know what to do. I stood there numb, trying to absorb all the things happening at that time. I stood there, dumbfounded. I felt weak, I felt defeated. But most of all I felt disappointed—disappointed by the fact that I happen to be the son of such a man who treats her own family like slaves, disappointed by the fact that my mother still wanted to save her marriage irrespective of how much cruelty she has to bear. After some moments, the abusing stopped, and what left was the sound of my mother crying. There was no God, for sure.
……………………………………………………………………………
“Can’t you stay back for a few more days?” mother asked me even as she helped me pack my bags. I looked at her. Her face was still swollen, her eyes moist, and her hands had become purple due to the swelling and bruising. I could see regret in her eyes—for choosing such a life, and helplessness that she could do nothing about it but she was wrong. All she had to do was to stand up against the injustice and step out from the cubicle of ‘what will people?’
“I can, but I won’t. I don’t want to rot in this hell for one more second.” I told her coldly. Probably she sensed the disappointment in my voice and that’s why she didn’t say anything after that.
“It’s not completely your fault either. It’s the society, the culture, that I want to blame. It has always restricted women from taking a stand, from fighting for their self-respect, and always encouraged us men to rule over the women and become dominant. So it’s okay for you to be with him and be a victim of this domestic violence for the rest of your life.” I told her, hoping to ignite something in her, something which could encourage her to stand against the wrong, but all I got was silence— disappointing, unhappy silence.
There were still 4 hours left for my flight, so I decided to take a quick nap in my room. When I woke up, I heard some voices from the other room. They were fighting once again. My father was calling her names and was abusing him that she was a useless creature and other things, to which my mother only responded with her sobbing and crying. I got up and walked towards their room.
“Atleast have some fear of God, he is watching all of us. For God’s sake, leave me alone, please.” my mother said to him when I entered in their room. I saw my father with a belt in his hand and my mother was lying on the floor, trying to defend herself from the leather.
“What the hell are you doing here? I told you not to interfere in our personal matter.” He asked me. I said nothing.
“YOU, you asked him to come right? tu ruk jaa.” He said to my mother and once again started to beat her with the belt.
“Please leave me.” My mother begged in front of him but he didn’t stop. I stood there for some more time, with rage and disappointment growing inside of me with every passing second. I wanted to grab his neck, push him towards the wall and bang his head against the wall, again and again, I wanted to beat him to death by the same belt which he held, I wanted him to pay for his cruelty and brutality that he was showering from years, I wanted him to feel the same pain that my mother felt for the last 2 decades…but I didn’t want to do all this myself, I wanted my mother to do it for herself. She kept looking at me, hoping that I would help her but I didn’t.
“You don’t have to bear this.” I said and left the room. As I was walking away, the crying of my mother kept increasing more and more and the cursing from my father kept going on till something happened. I heard a loud ‘thud’ sound from the room, and a long silence followed that sound. I knew something terrible hd happened so I quickly rushed towards their room and found my mother standing with a metal vase in her hands and my father was lying on the floor, almost unconscious. She had hit him—that’s right, she hit him with a vase.
“I don’t have to bear this.” My mother said and looked at me. Father was still lying on the floor, crying in pain and holding his bleeding forehead. I looked at mother who was still standing there, repeating ‘I don’t have to bear this’ everytime she looked at him.
“He is unconscious, We should call an ambulance.” I said to her and was dialing the number but she stopped me and said.
“Let him suffer a little, he won’t die. People like him don’t die that early.” She said and kept the vase on its own place. It was the first time in my life that I saw my mother fighting against him. That was the day I realized that everything happens for a purpose. I looked at her and smiled, she was still looking at my father and kept saying those six words—‘I don’t have to bear this.’
“You don’t have to bear this.” I said and hugged her. I felt relief.
……………………………………………………………………………

Friday 28 August 2015

Book Review- First Job and Ten Mistakes by Uttam Kumar



Title: 1st Job and 10 Mistakes
Author- Uttam Kumar
Book type- paperback
Rating: 3.5/5

About the Author- Uttam Kumar has a Masters degree in Mathematics. He has had a liking for writing since his childhood but “First Job and Ten Mistakes” is his first published work. His upcoming books include “The moment of Truth” and “Recruitment Hijacked”.
About The book- First of all, I would like to apologize for posting a late review due to some reasons. I got this book From Author Paradise. Thank you Tushti Bhatia for this book. To start with the book, it is a type of self help books for the people who have just started their first job. It is true that when we have our first paycheck in our hands, first thing we do is to spend the money blindly, without caring for the savings. It also focuses on the use of credit cards—how to use them, and how not to use them. This book is a must read for all the people who just joined their first job and who are about to join their jobs. I won’t comment on the flaws and goods on the writing since it is a book only 45 pages thick. It just basically helps you out with your career planning and how to spend the money. I will give this book 4/5 stars.