August 29, 2015

Love In Small Letters - A Note

Strangers come into our life with 
An option of certainty. 
Love wouldn’t be enough, 
No matter how much we exhausted from it.  
Their small gestures, tiny talks and 
Kindness saved our life for a while. 
Although we know 
We can’t reserve them forever, 
Still their silhouette outlast in us 
Till eternity. 
Little things matter. 


- Ankita Chauhan 

Meet Again As Strangers - A Short Story

Photo Credit : Google

I love to touch her skin and feel the spine. 
We often meet as strangers. 
But there is secret pact between me and 
my books. 
After savouring every bit, 
I hide them inside one of my bookshelves, 
And People think it’s some kind of disorder, 
schizo…? 
Everybody deserves pure madness in love, 
even books too. 

- Ankita Chauhan 

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Raksha Bandhan - A Short Story

One Frame Stories

Two and a half equation of love were walking on the road, as their father promised to little devils, a visit to Aranmula temple on the auspicious day of Raksha Bandhan. But there was a condition.

Though he nodded yet surprised to know that he has to take care of his elder sisters from now. He has to protect them. He was listening sincerely to his father’s every word. His eyes were twinkling and a little space was settled between his tiny fingers. He gripped on to his sisters’ hands. Today he was the center, who captivated everything together. 


August 27, 2015

Naughty - A Note

Wickedness is nothing just an ebb and flow of hormones. 
Don’t judge 
Because some reactions going inside my body at least. 
I give you more reasons to be cynical 
As skin colour, body stats and my weight. 
Go, expand your literacy level. 
But keep your eyes-off from that zone 
Where I still stay as naughty. 

- Ankita Chauhan 



P.s - Wrote it Under #55wordstory Program. 
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August 25, 2015

Malice : A Note

People humiliate us, try to destroy us by blurting harsh words. 
We are not stupid, Of course! 
But seriously I don't know How people kept that much malice inside.

Though I’m not saint or some preacher but feeling of revenge drags me down into the chamber, surrounded with black walls,
As if I am chopping off my soul.
So I ignore them, only method that works for me. 

- Ankita chauhan 


August 23, 2015

Float - A Short Story

And that day
I was freed from the thread of affection, 
I began to float in the nothingness, 
just like a gentle bird’s quill. 
All the —maybe, maybe not— suspended. 
The fear of separation ripped apart. 
An impulse of love folded, 
comforting gaze lost its essence.
The day when he sternly uttered 
'I need space.' 

- Ankita Chauhan 


#55wordstory is an initiative taken by Vivekisms  

Taboo - A Short Story


Time had left its marks on the corner of his vision. He was an experienced man, trying to sustain his heartbeats while giving some morning strokes on paddles. That day silent road filled with noise of gazes. Her back and butts just swaying as rhythm, her element reiterating forgotten symphony, she was herself.
Although nudity was a big taboo, more than belief— veiled beauty is sexier, but that numbness was inexplicable when it couldn’t generate blazes into him. His senses lost essence?

And his disturbing face enveloped into unwarned smile— a kid approaching to ice-cream vendor for unique flavor. 


- Ankita Chauhan


Thank You OFS for featuring my story under Top 4 ! 
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You Never Call - A Short Story

Pic Credit : Google 


I caught myself
constantly calling you
in the past nights, and
you never called back. 

I wanted to envelop
into warmth of your voice. 
Is there some alternate
of your loved one’s mouthpiece? 

This darkness engulfed me
in night, like a hell.  
Does network properly
work after death?
A long phone call is
awaited.

- Ankita Chauhan 


WINGS - A Short Story


Somewhat frost morning but a rejuvenating one he felt, his numb fingers would pick up a bundle of newspapers and stationed them on his rusty bicycle, his twinkling eyes had already captured a dream, which was usually blooming on the first page, brave pilots with majestic planes, when world was facing the calamities of second world war, an imagination trying to survive in his heart. There was lack of facilities but choice had made.

And after a decade our universe blessed with exquisite Missile Man! Here a Salute to his parents who let him flown without any —forced perception.

- Ankita Chauhan


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August 20, 2015

Book Review : Rise of Kali - (Ajaya II) by Anand Neelakantan


Title: Rise of Kali - Duryodhana’s Mahabharat (Ajaya Book II)
Author: Anand Neelakantan
Publisher: Leadstart
Genre: Historical Fiction, Hinduism, Religious studies
Pages: 530
Rating: 3.5/5

Intro:
I first introduced with Mahabharata when I was in fourth standard, my parents bought a pocket book which enveloped all the mythological characters, I was dazzled to read the tales of Dhoti-worn superheroes, Chakra-in-fingers, Arjuna’s Concentration was heroic world for me.
And after almost 2 decades I got the opportunity to read Anand Neelakantan’s Creation ‘Ajaya –epic of kaurava clan, Roll of Dice (Book I). And I was stunned to know that stories reside in narrator’s eyes, every perspective matters. It was not just a retelling of Mahabharata but more than that it was a genuine effort to throw the light on the other part where grass was not green but worth watching.
I must say when everyone writes for earn money here, it’s a bold step taken by Mr. Anand Neelakantan to live the experience of writing a epic from a different point of view. Applauses!

Structure:
And after a huge success of Ajaya I, here we blessed with the second part ‘Rise of Kali - Duryodhana’s Mahabharat (Ajaya Book II) by Anand Neelakantan’.
‘Rise of Kali’ begins with quivering scene of ‘Cheer-Haran’ where Draupadi is commanded to be dragged to Sabha on the day when her ‘Dharma-Rakshak’ husbands had lost her in a dice-game play.
“Draupadi forgot to breathe when she heard heavy footsteps hurrying up the stairs.  They were coming for her, her heart thudding in her chest as fear crept insidiously up her body from her toes.” 

Crisp Narration:
As story unfolds with a gripping chapter, you almost forget when to stop. Author’s narration was crisp and upright. I loved the way Author captured scene and makes it alive. The characters converse to each other with clarity, you don’t have indulged in said-asked theory, conversation flows at ease, and that’s great achievement for a quality writer.



Core:
 At some point Mr. Anand raised questions at hypocrisy of society. He simplified the fact ‘we all are human. We are allowed to make mistakes.’ A radical part is — Author created a great corner for Shakuni’s course of story and It will make you wreak when you read Karna’s part how did he got mistreated, here author strikes hard utterance at caste system. The disagreement between Krishna and Samba was catchy. Without being biased, author gave a fair chance and brilliant voice to the myriads of characters.

How could you imagine Mahabharata- The Epic Tale ruled by just victors, it is tale of Kaurava’s clan too as much as Pandava’s.  Author considered each and every character as king/ prince, even Krishna. God? Let it be. If you usually read book with open mind then you would love it to the core. Must hide the back up of Mahabharata from the mind, for a while and give it a chance.


Reader’s Moment:
It is just impossible task to consolidate whole Mahabharata into a single post so here I’m sharing with you, the remarkable parts I loved the most, the impressive lines stirred my soul. 

Ashwathama touched his father’s feet “Bless me father, I m going to Gandhara“  he said in his mind. Surely his father say something to him bless him and wish him success? Would he have behaved this way if he was Arjuna?”

“The world went on, not caring a damn about, who died and who lived, who was shamed and who was honoured?”

“Balarama did not want to stand there and listen to his brother (Krishna) and his commander argued over the rights and wrongs of the war. All war was wrong. For a child who had lost his father, what did it matter whether they had won or lost?”


“Shakuni began to laugh “Spare your breathe Aswathama. The dice has just started to roll. The game is not over. Not yet, not so quickly, no so easily.”

“The Gandharans lived in a moment, without bothering about the afterlife or the eternal soul.  For them there was no Moksha, Sanyas or Brahmacharya. There were no seekers or philosophers in their midst, life was now.”

“Karna, the path you have chosen is the wrong one “ Parashurama whispered
‘He was the only one who supported me when the whole world was making fun of Suta who dared to dream of being a warrior.’ Karna wanted to say but words were trapped in her throat.”

‘You can earn respects in two ways by force or by deeds. The choice is yours. Either way, you will be remembered.’



‘Was a handful of earth worth fighting a war over? Was the throne worth it? All that grand talk about Dharma, all the speculation about soul, karma, hell, heaven and rebirth— it all sounded hollow.’

‘Nevertheless, Shakuni folded his hands in seeming gratitude as Suyodhana came up to him” forgive your uncle Suyodhana. I have always had your welfare in mind. I want you to sit on the throne of Hastinapura. I won the kingdom for you in the dice game and you repay me by sending your armies to ravish my land. Is that fair?’

“Divisions are natural. The duties prescribed for Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas and Shudras are all different.
Krishna, there lies a problem. Who decides what one’s duty?
The scriptures are authority to determine what one should do.
The scriptures are for man not the other way around. Krishna you speak of arbitrary division, unnatural ones.”

"Brother, a man’s concern should be about his karma, not the fruits of his action.
Where can you find such a person, Krishna? How will I recognize someone with such a steady mind how does such an unusual person sit, speak, and move? Balarama asked.
Just as tortoise withdraws its limbs and becomes strong. A man also gains strength when he withdraws from desire and steadies his mind in contemplation.
Krishna if you have reached that much desired state, why does it matter to you whether Yudhishtra wins the war or Duryodhana?  Why not keep you mind steady in contemplation instead?”

     Conversation between Balarama and Krishna.


CASTE CASTE CASTE‘   Karna kicked a stone into the water. His toe hurt but it was nothing compared to what he felt inside.
He had everything— caste, lineage, and fame he even had the woman Karna had once loved deeply. Draupadi , why do I still yearn for you ? He thought in agony. Could a Suta even lift his eyes to such a woman? 
Do not tell me that caste is based only on character and not on birth. I am tired of that excuse. All the high-castes parrot it but I can no longer accept their smug smiles and platitudes, as though their high status was the result of their exalted character and not a mere accident of birth. To them it is just a philosophy but to us at the bottom, it is life.”

Was Draupadi perhaps the greatest victim in the Mahabharata? Draupadi, like many other women and children, was also a victim of the war. All the women of Mahabharata are victims, trampled by a masculine world. Gandhari who lost all her sons, Kunti who lost all her grandsons and a son, Draupadi who lost all her sons, the Nishada woman who lost her life and all her sons, Hidumbi who lost her son, Uthara who lost her husband, Bhanumathi who lost both her husband and son- the list is endless. There is no justification in singling out Draupadi. 



Overall, It is an Insightful Read, Highly Recommended. Go for it!

Cover Page by Kunal Kundu would provoke you to get your copy at once.
And Great Thanks to Platinum Press and Leadstart Publishing for the quality of book, large fonts make it easy to read.   

About the Author:
A dexterous writer and a cartoonist, Anand Neelkanthan started his career in writing with Asura: Tale of The Vanquished. His books have had big hits in the market and he has been named as one of the most popular writers in India. Ajaya: Book 1: Roll of The Dice (Epic of The Kaurava Clan) has not been an exception. Being brought up in a place full of temples and classical artists, Neelkanthan was interested in epics and myths from his childhood. Instead of blindly following the myths, he has created a new genre, of remaking and retelling, questioning and arguing. That is why he has become favourite to modern readers.
Follow Mr. Anand On Twitter –  @anand_neel
Follow Mr. Anand On Facebook – Anand.Neelakantan
Mr. Anand can be reached at: mail@asura.co.in
Affiliate Link (Buy Online) – Rise-Kali-Duryodhanas-Mahabharat

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August 19, 2015

Book Excerpt : India On My Platter by Saransh Goila



Title:  India on My Platter
Author: Saransh Goila
Publisher: Om Books International
Genre: Cuisine
Pages: 336

About the Book:
Backpacking through the country, young chef Saransh Goila sets off on a culinary trail through India, where in he discovers the various nuances of local cuisine. From rural villages to barren deserts to freezing mountains, he unfolds the flavour of his destination by meeting local villagers or erstwhile royalty, picking up a tip or two to use in his kitchen. Wherever he goes, he makes sure to visit the famous eateries of that place. Through him, the reader can vividly smell the spices and taste the dishes that are described. The recipes given also present ways on using locally found ingredients. From having steaming Murthal ke paranthes to savouring tasty street food in home town Delhi, from cooking on a boat in Varanasi to cooking dishes using a bamboo hollow in Assam, Goila does it all and presents his adventures in a lucid, flowing narrative peppered with humorous anecdotes.

August 18, 2015

अगस्त गुलज़ार है और ज़िदंगी भी



‘हवाओं पे लिख दो.. हवाओं के नाम’

लफ्ज़ों में, तारीखों में या किसी सिर्फ एक अहसास में इस शख्स को नहीं बांधा जा सकता, जिसने अपने ठिकाने खुद बसाये हों वक्त से परे अगर मिल सको कहीं 

जन्म दिवस है गुल्ज़ार साब का आज, 18 अगस्त 1934, समय भी अपने में नाज़ करता होगा ना, झेलम जो गुलज़ार जी के हर गीत हर नज़्म की रूह में बसती है, वही पास के दीना गाँव में जन्में गुलज़ार जी ने पूरी दुनिया को अपना बना लिया, उनकी नज़्में अंतरिक्ष के सभी फासलें तय कर प्लूटो तक को छू आयीं। माखन सिंह कालरा जी व सुजान कौर जी को शत शत नमन!

‘कल रात से तेरी खूशबू आँखों में ठहरी हुई है’

‘वक्त को आते, न जाते, न गुजरते देखा,
न उतरते हुए देखा कभी इलहाम की सूरत,
जमा होते हुए एक जगह, मगर देखा है’

गुल्ज़ार जी को गूगल सर्च करने पर इंडियन पोएट, लिरीसिस्ट, और डायरेक्टर की संज्ञा से नवाजा जाता है, हांलाकि कई भाषाओ (हिन्दी, उर्दू, पंजाबी, मारवाड़ी, बृज़, खड़ी बोली) में अपने अहसास पिरोने वाले गुलज़ार साब कहते हैं उन्हे आज भी अतुल्नीय खुशी अपनी कविताओं, अपनी नज़्मों को किसी पत्रिका में प्रकाशित होने पर होती है। आकाश की उंचाईयों को काबू में करने के बाद, जहन में इतनी सादगी को जगह देना, नहीं कर पाता हर कोई, शायद इसलिए ही “गुलज़ार ज़िदंगी हैं, ज़िदंगी गुलज़ार हैं। 


वो उम्र कम कर रहा था मेरी, मैं साल अपने बढ़ा रहा था

बहुत बार सोचा यह सिंदूरी रोगन, जहाँ पे खड़ा हूँ, वहीं पे बिछा दूँ
यह सूरज के ज़र्रे ज़मी पे मिले तो इक और आसमां
इस ज़मी पे बिछा दूँ

हर शख्स आज गुलज़ार् साब की नज़्मों का मुरीद है, उनके लिखे नगमें जीवित कर देते है हमारी जंग लगी संवेदनाओं को, किसी को पढ़कर खुद को पा लेना जादू सा लगता है, किसी की लिखी उदासियाँ भी जब दिल को सूकून पहुचाँ दे, तो ये ज़िन्दगी आसां लगने लगती है।

"प्यार कोई बोल नहीं, प्यार आवाज़ नहीं एक खामोशी है सुनती है कहा करती है’


तेरे उतारे हुए दिन पहन के अब भी ,
मैं तेरी महक में कई रोज़ काट देता हूँ ,
ना वो पुराने हुए हैं, ना उनका रंग उतरा


दर्द हल्का है, सांस भारी है जिए जाने की रस्म जारी है
आपके बाद हर घडी हमने आपके साथ ही गुजारी है!

सुबह को जन्म देती हर रात, और रात के साथ अठखेलियां करता चांद भी बेकरार रहता होगा, हम पर आज कुछ लिख दें शायद, गहराई तक छूकर सांसे भर दे, गुलज़ार एक बार फिर ज़िन्दा कर दें.. हमें।



‘मासूम सी नींद में जब कोई सपना चले ,
हम को बुला लेना तुम पलकों के परदे तले’


मैं रहता इस तरफ़ हूँ यार की दीवार के लेकिन
मेरा साया अभी  दीवार के उस पार गिरता है
बड़ी कच्ची सरहद एक अपने जिस्मों -जां की है  
(त्रिवेणी)

बारिशें जब भी धरती के लम्स को छूती होंगी तो मौसम की आंखे, गुलज़ार साब की डेस्क पर रखी इठलाती डायरी से उलझ जाती होंगीं, शायद कुछ नया लिखा हो हमारे रिश्ते के बारे में.. रिशता जो बादलों से हैं, सब्ज जमीं पर दूर तक फैले मुस्कुराते फूलों से है, कोई और कहां महसूस कर पाता है इतना, ये ऐनक का हुनर है या ऐनक से झाँकती उन दो मासूम सी आंखों की शरारत, कुछ तो छुपा रहे गुल्ज़ार की नज़रों से, प्राईवेसी जैसा कुछ।

"एक अकेली छतरी में जब.. आधे आधे भीग रहे थे"

"एक सौ सोलह चाँद की रातें, एक तुम्हारे कांधे का तिल


यादों की बौछारों से जब पलकें भीगने लगती हैं
कितनी सौंधी लगती है तब माज़ी की रुसवाई भी


"पत्तों के गर चहरे होते, कुछ तेरे कुछ मेरे होते
मौसम चलते पाँव के नीचे, हवा के ऊपर डेरे होते!!"


‘कभी नीले आसमां पर चलो घूमने चले हम, कोई अब्र मिल गया तो ज़मीं पे बरस ले हम’


लब हिले तो मोगरे के फूल खिलते हैं कहीं
आप की आँखों में क्या साहिल भी मिलते हैं कहीं
आप की खामोशियाँ भी आप की आवाज हैं


‘तेरे ख़याल से ग़ाफ़िल नहीं हूँ तेरी क़सम, तेरे ख़यालों में कुछ भूल-भूल जाता हूँ’



अब जब धूप में पिघलती राहों को ही रेशमी कह दे कोई, तो इतंजार धूमिल पड़ने लगता है ना, दर्द खुशी देता है, मंज़िलें ना भी दिखे पर करीब लगती हैं।

इन रेशमी राहों में इक राह तो वो होगी
तुम तक जो पहुचती है इस मोड़ से जाती है

एक बार तो यूँ होगा थोड़ा सा सूकूं होगा ना दिल में कसक होगी ना दिल में जूनूं होगा””


जो गुजर गई, कल की बात थी"


जितने भी तय करते गए, बढ़ते गए ये फ़ासले,
मीलों से दिन छोड़ आए सालों सी रात ले के चले”


कोई वादा नहीं किया लेकिन, क्यों तेरा इंतज़ार रहता है
बेवजह जब करार मिल जाए, दिल बड़ा बेकरार रहता है


कमाल है ना, जो प्रश्न हमारे अश्क अपने मुकद्दर से कर बैठते हैं, उस हर एक परेशानी का जवाब रखता है इक शख्स अपने गीतों की पोटली मे।

ये फ़ासले तेरी गलियों के हमसे तय ना हुए ,
हज़ार बार रुके हम हज़ार बार चले
(जगजीत जी की आवाज में)


‘जहाँ से तुम मोड़ मुड़ गये थे, ये मोड़ अब भी वही पड़े हैं’
‘ये मोड़ क्यूँ आते हैं.. रास्ते सीधे क्यूँ नहीं होते?’


‘कहने वालों का कुछ नहीं जाता, सहने वाले कमाल करते हैं,
कौन ढूंढे जवाब दर्दों के, लोग तो बस सवाल करते हैं’


ऐसे बिखरे हैं दिन रात जैसे
मोतियों वाला हार टूट गया
तुमने मुझे पिरो के रखा था 

गुलज़ार जी के बारे में जितना भी लिखो कम ही होगा ना.. जो सब कुछ कह चुका हो, उसको एक छोटे से लेख में बाँधना नामुमकिन है, एक बेमानी सा खेल। 

तुमसे मिली जो जिन्दगी, हमने अभी बोई नहीं, तेरे सिवा कोई न था... तेरे सिवा कोई नहीं’


आ नींद का सौदा करें, इक ख्वाब दें इक ख्वाब लें


लकीरें हाथ में थीं तो मुक़द्दर थीं, इन्हें हम बन्द रखते थे,
ज़मीनों पर बिछीं तो फिर समंदर, मुलक, घर-आंगन सभी को काटती गुज़रीं!"


बस दिली तमन्ना है, हथेली पर बिछी लकीरों में कुछ उल्ट फेर कर सकूं, जोड़-घटाव सा कुछ, गुलज़ार साब का हर इक अल्फाज़, लिखने का कायदा, एक नई उम्र पा जाए। गुलज़ार दिवस की हार्दिक शुभकामनाएँ..!  

''कितनी आवाजें हैं, ये लोग हैं, बातें हैं मगर
ज़हन के पीछे किसी और ही सतह पे कहीं
जैसे चुपचाप बरसता है तसव्वुर तेरा''



और अंत में एक मीठा सा सच—  मुख़्तसर सी बात है तुम से प्यार है..!” 


- Ankita Chauhan  (Last Year , Same Day)




August 16, 2015

METHOD : A Short Story

Photo Credit : Google 
‘What is the exact method to be an author?’

‘Procedure? 
You should read and read like nothing else exists.’

‘I did read thousand of books but, 
words perished when I try to put them down on paper.’

‘Then you would have excluded the meeting with a stranger, 
who wanted to be listened. That was You.’ 



55 word Story 

Hidden - A Poem

Photo Credit : Google 
Just a crumpled paper, 
Inked with few words, 
She put it 
Close to her rib-cage 
And struggled with 
Entanglements, ‘

'These Y-generation kids 
would never able to decipher 
Handwritten letters’. 

She glared at wet paper again 
Whispering name, 
Sense of belonging, 
Warmth of memories and 
Hidden promises—  
touched 
her misty eyes. 

‘Email? 
Mere cold love. 


- Ankita Chauhan

Cocktail - A Poem



A dimly-lit room 
And she slipped into her cozy bed 
With her only companion, 
A book.

A glowing lamp besides her bed, 
Sheltering the verses of her 
Favorite poetry 
Word by word

And prominent strings of 
Sarod were melting in her ears.
She too might be enjoying 
Cocktail, 
of her kind, 
Like everyone else. 


- Ankita Chauhan 

Book Review : After the Crash By Michel Bussi


Title: After the Crash
Author: Michel Bussi
Genre: Thriller, Crime Fiction
Publisher: Hachette India
Source: Flipkart Review Program
Pages: 386
Rating: 5/5

‘There had been the Airbus crash . . . and then the trial, and the verdict.’

Have you ever read French fiction or have you got the chance to attend French language classes? You would feel more familiar with characters, their names sounds like music and then comes a story, full of assumptions, suspicions and coincidences, brings you in a thrilling mode where you would just want to explore more, What’s Next?

People keep living in the same houses where their loved ones died, don’t they? They sleep in the same beds, eat off the same plates, drink from the same glasses . . . Those objects are not responsible for the deaths.’

After the Crash, the extraordinary work of Michel Bussi, is about a baby girl, Lylie who survived after a plane crash, becomes a headline in newspaper as Miracle Baby, Orphan? Not at all, In fact there are two families; both have their own justifications to get her custody. Somehow matter settled in a court with misty proofs, in 80’s DNA testing was not in trends.

August 09, 2015

HER - A Short Story


Photo Credit - Google
In the silence, 
She was surrounded with nothing 
but shattered pieces of her silenced voice. 
She felt suffocated amidst 
a millions of 
verbal presents bestowed upon her last night. 
Her dream 
vanished into cold tears. 
“Abort her” her man’s words 
still babbling in her ears 
and made her suspicious 
“does she really own her body.”


 55 words stories is an initiative taken by @Vivekisms .