Yeh Dil Mange Votes:)

Gee !! I feel like a politician contesting the assembly election. Since I feel like one, here is my election speech:

My Dear fellow bloggers. Greetings in the name of the plethora of gods present in our country and elsewhere. Without their blessings we would not have have been able to write and have our own blogs.
Compared to my experienced brothers and sisters on the indiblog site, I am just a novice. I have entered this blog portal constituency with a vision. A vision where every aam aadmi  gets an opportunity to read my story  which is  filled with love, forgiveness, second chances and humour.
We are living in the world of chicklit, terror and hit lists. So why not grab a chance at reading a wholesome love story that is sure to tug at your heart strings.

Think about this, what would you prefer to do when you read a story? Yawn or  smile and say. " wow that story made my day. I feel so refreshed and full of positive vibes."
Well if you chose the second option, then please go to the following link http://www.indiblogger.in/getpublished/idea/254 and cast your precious votes.

I am not promising you a kilo of potatoes or free one year subscription for Dish TV or any  another cable of your choice. All I am promising is that after you cast your votes and help me publish my story, you will feel great and be blessed with an opportunity to read more of my stories in print.

So friends come join hands with me and let us walk on the path towards  freedom of reading good old love stories again.


Jai Hind and may the Gods continue to bless your blogging skills.

Once Upon a Time

 ( image taken from dstracywrites.blogspot.com)

There are so many story's that i have read from my childhood and the one thing that i looked forward to any story was the starting, especially the one which started with  - " Once upon a time,...." .

These four words  open up a multitude of thoughts and ideas, not only for the reader, but also for the author.. It makes one eager to continue reading and finding the essence of the story. It gives impetus to the writer to weave stories in different genres to suit his or her mood.

Personally these four words were the reason behind why i started writing. Given these words i realised that i could dish out different beginnings with the same four words.

For example: " Once upon a time in the land of Lemuria lived an alien called Zorba.", so my story now becomes science fiction.

" Once upon a time in Africa, long before civilisation started, roamed human kind who resembled apes.", might be the first line of a history text book.

" Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Magadha, two warrior princes were born on the same day at the same time.", this would mean that my story is a historical one, a period romance maybe.

"Once upon a time in a faraway land filled with goblins and fairies, lived a princess, " would  be an apt  opening for a fairy tale.

The power these four words hold is awesome and has not diminished all these years. I read an article the other day which stated that no body knows how or when these four words originated. Chaucer's Cantebury tales were some of the earliest examples. Many folklores and fables also usually begin with these words which instantly piqued the interest of the reader or the listener.

And the perfect match for these starting four words are the ending 6 words, " and they lived happily ever after."

So go ahead take a pen and paper and write a story which begins with , Once upon a time..... and see the words and ideas flow onto the paper.

I plan to start my story for the Harper Collins short story contest, with the epic four words, " Once upon a time......"

But in the meanwhile have a look at my synopsis at http://www.indiblogger.in/getpublished/idea/254/ and if you like my story line, don't hesitate to hit the promote button.:)

Adios have a good day and keep penning your thoughts.

"When Love and Hate Collide- my entry to the GetPublished contest’’

The synopsis:

They say opposites attract. And that’s exactly what happened to them. Joseph Conrad and Madhumita Reddy had a chance encounter in a local bar, when sparks began to fly literally and figuratively. He was from England and she was from Andhra Pradesh.  He was everything that she detested in a man. He was chauvinistic, swore like a truck driver, was sloppy and believed that he was always right. And her independence frightened him. He could not resist her dimpled smile and compassionate liquid brown eyes. He liked his women smoking hot, and she managed to score a miserable 3 on the hotness scale.  She was short, slightly plump and a perfectionist. She abhorred untidiness and everything that was flashy.   And Joseph was exactly that. A flashy Casanova.

As one meeting led to other chance encounters they could not free themselves from the forces of attraction. They realised that inspite of their individual detestable traits, they still had some common ground on which they could tread upon without getting at each others throats. They loved the same kind of music, were passionate about books, action movies, animals and loved to experiment with different cuisines.

And so they chucked their indifferences and decided to dip their toes into an ocean called LOVE. And what a roller coaster ride it was for them. Like a whirlpool they were sucked into a rigmarole of passion, curses, fights and making up sessions. But through this all, their love for each other never diminished until the day she discovered a dark secret about him. And that’s when love collided with hate.  

How do Joseph and Madhumita, cope with this ultimate upheaval?  Read on to discover who won the final contest….Love or Hate……

Where the story strikes a chord:

This story is about the following dilemmas that most of us face at some point in our lives:  what is more important:  love or hate? Should people be judged by their mistakes or by their willingness to correct their mistakes?

A sneak peek:

“Josh, why can’t you put things in their proper places? Is it so hard for you to differentiate between a pair of socks and underwear?

“Of course I know the difference Maddy.  One is for the butt and the other for the feet.  But baby, you look absolutely ravishing when you are angry”, he replied smilingly and threw a sock at me.

He looked so boyish and full on impishness that my anger dissolved in a jiffy and I threw back the sock at him.

And thus the clothes from the drawer flew like missiles and as I threw the last piece, it hit bull’s eye.  I rubbed my hands in glee and said, “Now sort them and put it back neatly my love.”

“Awww…’”, he started, but I wagged a finger, flashed my dimples and went out of the room.

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

Speed Breakers of Gurgaon

This article of mine was published in " The Hindu", a few months back. Hats off to all those people who survive in the concrete jungle called Gurgaon. In this millennium city there are highrises, plush and posh malls, numerous eateries, IT firms , business houses etc etc.all juxtaposing and gelling with a multitude who have scant regard for the rules. Every-time I travel on Grugaon's roads I have my heart in my mouth, not because I am not confident of my husband's expertise with the wheel, but the lack of the same with the other drivers around him. Cheers:)

Nandi, Gomatha and little Kafka, were walking in the middle of a busy road near Hamilton Court, Phase-IV, Gurgaon, when suddenly they saw cars and bikes screeching to a halt near them. Some avoided them and managed to meander past like race track drivers taking sharp bends. The trio swished their tails and mooed angrily in reply to this near death experience. They looked around to see if their other mates were safe, and heaved a sigh of relief when they found them shaken but unharmed. Little Kafka, started crying and said between hiccups, “I am so scared to cross this road everyday. Why can’t our owner take us in another direction where there is no traffic?”

Gomatha gathered Kafka close to her side, and replied,’ don’t worry Kafka, we will slowly cross the road”. As they were crossing, suddenly Nandi shouted, ‘Look out! There is a car coming to your left!’  Breaks squealed and the driver shouted rudely, ‘Bloody cows, why don’t you go and live in the fields instead of killing us on the roads”.

‘But, but…sputtered Gomatha, ‘It was your mistake! You came on the wrong side of the road, don’t you know that this is a one way?’

“Pah, who cares about one way in Gurgaon? I will drive on any road that I want to. Any way there is no police patrolling here. And let me tell you something else, when the traffic police do come out, it ends up in a traffic jam, he he he”, chortled the rude driver and drove away blaring his horn.

By now Kafka, already jolted by screeching horns and squealing tires was petrified and refused to move another inch. No amount of cajoling from Nandi and Gomatha had any impact on her. She sat down in the middle of the road and said, “I am going on a strike mom and dad, I cannot take this anymore, no body cares for us, our owner leaves us on the busy roads to find our way home, and there is no use complaining to the police”. The rest of the cows also followed suit and sat down on the busy thoroughfare which resulted in a massive traffic jam.

 Soon a delegation of government officials came to negotiate with the congregation of bovine infidels (so christened by the angry public). Kafka and her tribe had a bevy of complaints and refused to heed the officials till their demands were met. The officials had no other alternative, they feared the PETA. Kafka boldly donned the role of the leader and rattled of a list of cow woes. 

• “We are not respected, even though we are considered ‘holy’ by many people. Our owner makes us take this same perilous route every day causing harm to motorists and ourselves.
• We want the government to build a cow zone which will enable us to walk without fear.
• We want dedicated traffic police force who don’t stand by the side of the road with cell phones glued to their ears.
• We want to live in cleaner and more hygienic surroundings. Recently we had a family dinner in Mac Donald's, in Sector 29. A stink assailed us when we came out. We turned around and saw open drains with pigs wallowing in it. Yuck! And you call us dirty cows!”

Kafka breathed a long sigh, once she finished and said “we will not budge till you assure us that our demands will be fulfilled.”  After a heated discussion the officials decided to fulfill the demands of the bovines. The congregation then methodically and slowly moved in a line and cleared the road. Nandi and Gomatha proudly patted Kafka and said, “You have indeed brought a revolution. Only time will tell how successful we have been with our flash hartal. We know how crafty these officials are, so let’s be prepared to lead another andolan.”  Kafka laughed delightedly and marched along with her parents mooing this song:

“We are the speed breakers of Gurgaon,

Drive rashly and you will be gone,

We will come back on the roads to keep a check,

Double cross us and we will create a bottleneck”.