My Story as a Writer
Three of my major works are now available from and distributed by Amazon.
For all of my books available from Amazon, please follow this link here.
I have devoted years to create these works, travelled far-flung corners, experienced the extremes, and delved into the lives of countless people. It was never easy. I generally do not write about eroticism, if you look for that in a story, and I try to be as honest as I can to my characters. I cannot say more about these books here in this post as they have their own posts now.
Currently, I am working on two more books although I have more than that in line. Out of these current two, the first one is a novel and the second one is a non-fiction.
I cannot answer about these unfinished works at present as I am going through rather difficult times. It also depends on how my works get received.
What is my personal story then? Strangely, it all fits in the ghazal by Lata Mangeshkar .
"Dhuwa banake fiza mein uda diya mujhko
Me jal raha tha kisi ne bujha diya mujhko ....."
Here is my translation of the initial lines (please note that this translation is unofficial):
"Turned into smoke I was blown to the air; the moods of the sky:
I was aflame; someone put me out (and made me die)..."
This short translation is part of my novel Ripheart Mountains. The novel is a fiction but it is based on real stories of real people.
And then, as she sings, one question makes me tormented. "If I am still standing today for loaves of bread, the question is: what have books given me?"
I cannot find an answer to that question, probably because whenever I listen to her sing I feel she is singing my personal story. And thinking about smoke, I remember I had composed a poetic piece titled "Bitterness" years ago.
And BITTERNESS is all that is there in one of my blogs titled "The Bitterness Pill". You can add more in the comments if you feel like adding anything that I have missed out. All of it came out in a blog after a short conversation shared with cups of tea with a friend of mine and it became a concept for a book project. Yes, I have some of the chapters already finished but there is still more than 60% of the work remaining to be done before it gets finalised as a book.
Even today, as I write and edit and re-write these lines, I find no change in my story to speak of. It has remained, as always, just like my profile picture that is at least 6 years younger than I am now. I don't have a new one, and I cannot change the old.
My personal story has remained stagnant. And yet it is as fresh as the water of a lake amidst the remote mountains of the Himalayas.
Three of my major works are now available from and distributed by Amazon.
For all of my books available from Amazon, please follow this link here.
I have devoted years to create these works, travelled far-flung corners, experienced the extremes, and delved into the lives of countless people. It was never easy. I generally do not write about eroticism, if you look for that in a story, and I try to be as honest as I can to my characters. I cannot say more about these books here in this post as they have their own posts now.
Currently, I am working on two more books although I have more than that in line. Out of these current two, the first one is a novel and the second one is a non-fiction.
I cannot answer about these unfinished works at present as I am going through rather difficult times. It also depends on how my works get received.
What is my personal story then? Strangely, it all fits in the ghazal by Lata Mangeshkar .
"Dhuwa banake fiza mein uda diya mujhko
Me jal raha tha kisi ne bujha diya mujhko ....."
Here is my translation of the initial lines (please note that this translation is unofficial):
"Turned into smoke I was blown to the air; the moods of the sky:
I was aflame; someone put me out (and made me die)..."
This short translation is part of my novel Ripheart Mountains. The novel is a fiction but it is based on real stories of real people.
And then, as she sings, one question makes me tormented. "If I am still standing today for loaves of bread, the question is: what have books given me?"
I cannot find an answer to that question, probably because whenever I listen to her sing I feel she is singing my personal story. And thinking about smoke, I remember I had composed a poetic piece titled "Bitterness" years ago.
And BITTERNESS is all that is there in one of my blogs titled "The Bitterness Pill". You can add more in the comments if you feel like adding anything that I have missed out. All of it came out in a blog after a short conversation shared with cups of tea with a friend of mine and it became a concept for a book project. Yes, I have some of the chapters already finished but there is still more than 60% of the work remaining to be done before it gets finalised as a book.
Even today, as I write and edit and re-write these lines, I find no change in my story to speak of. It has remained, as always, just like my profile picture that is at least 6 years younger than I am now. I don't have a new one, and I cannot change the old.
My personal story has remained stagnant. And yet it is as fresh as the water of a lake amidst the remote mountains of the Himalayas.
My
personal journey has not been a sweet one, and the bitterness still
lingers. My path has been that of a lost wanderer. There is beauty, and
yet it is painfully bitter.
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