Rerouting

This blog has relocated to a domain on WordPress. Please visit the following link, where my new blog posts will be updated from today on wards -  http://malinymohan.net/

~ Maliny

An Excerpt And A List

                   Am I stuck with writer’s block? One may wonder, considering the dwindling number of blog posts I have been churning up during the past couple of months. But the truth is that, my mind has been shuttling between matters concerning something very important in my life- A milestone in itself. 

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Read the rest of the post on my new wordpress domain - An excerpt and a list

Book Release! - Love and Other Enchantments

I am excited beyond words as I write this post today. In my recent post I had mentioned about my dream ship - The short story anthology by five writers - Along with me, Tanima Kedar, Ishan Dafaria, Anuj Kumar and Akash Deep. The book was released online on the auspicious day of Vijayadasami.

Here are the ebay and ShopClues link :-

Ebay :-  Click here and show some love :)

ShopClues :- Here


I am including here the blurb of the book along with an excerpt of one of my stories - He loves me not. Just to remind, this anthology has three of my stories published.

The blurb of the book :- 

Drag, it can, from the splendours of dawn to the gloomy even-fall; sooner or later, but, it touches us all – LOVE.. indeed. "Love and Other Enchantments" is a collection of fifteen heart-rending love stories where in each will reveal a new facet of love and will arouse a new set of emotions and even newer perceptions of relationship, sacrifice, devotion, depression, hurt, lust and madness.
Loose yourself in a whirlwind of emotions, only to be rescued by that thing called love. The Fictitious Five is a group of five writers.
Maliny MohanIshan Dafaria Tanima KedarAnuj Kumar Akash Deep Gupta
all united by their unabating passion for writing. 
They believe in the power of words and aspire to keep weaving them to create delightful stories that touch the hearts of the readers.

Excerpt from my story 'He Loves Me Not'  :-

'.........The moon was shining the brightest, showering powdery white rays over the surroundings. A light refreshing breeze slid past her, on the cue to which she wrapped her coat tightly around her, consoled by nature's gesture.
An eerie silence reverberated in the deserted parking lot which made her quiver a bit.
All at once, as if to prove her worst fears right, a sense of vertigo blinded her which seemed to over haul her more and more with each passing second. Whether it was due to the overpowering drink or due to the hot rush of hormones seeping into the kinky recesses of her cacophonous brain, she couldn't conjure a reason at that harrowing moment. 
The very next second, she slumped to the floor as if in a bolt, a groan escaping her throat............'
                                                       *************
I would like to thank the readers of my blog, who have always encouraged me with their resounding presence and through the indelible imprints they left behind as comments. 
Do take a took at the links and buy the book if you find it interesting enough :)

Enid Blyton,Pets And A Clowder Of Cats

   
                                          My association with animals started a long time back; when I was 10 to be exact. The acquaintance took its inception in the delicate, dust scented pages of Enid Blyton’s ‘Secret Seven’. While the exhilarating adventures of the kid gang insinuated deeper into the avid reader in me, the loyal dog Scamper never failed to amuse me with his charm. The chord that connected me to dogs strengthened a year later or so when a friend introduced Timothy to me, the adorable dog who stole the limelight in the Famous Five series. Harking back, I remember nurturing a heartfelt desire to own a pet as enticing as Timothy, someone to play with, someone to be my partner in crime, someone to keep me company in the dark hours of solitude. 

Maybe God answered a child’s prayer faster than an adult’s, for before I could present the matter to my parents, and before they could reject it hands down, I was presented with a cute little puppy, lost, hungry and panting at my door steps. Being scared to touch it, lest it bit me, I remember putting on my brother’s cricket gloves to scoop the beautiful bundle in my arms to carry it inside to replenish him with food, milk and a cozy abode. I named him Timmy as any dog who could conquer the heart of the little me could be nothing else but Timmy to me. 

 However the inevitable descended on me before long, as he started throwing up tantrums not befitting a 10 year old child’s friend and my parents ,who were already not quite happy with the idea of sheltering a stray dog were left with no choice but to discard him somehow or the other. And that forgettable day, when the sky was inky and crowded with clouds, as if they offered a hand in the crime by shrouding the earth in darkness, my dearest Timmy was packed in a box( with air holes) to be discarded somewhere distant. 

Gloomy days were to follow. Reading a novel turned out to be hardest thing I could conjure myself to do as the shy face of my dog seemed to sprout in each and every page. 

But before long, I forgot all about Timmy. Time heals, truly said. 

Coming back to the present, I can’t help but shout out that I am cuddling a creamy white bundle of treasure while I am writing this account. Confused? Let us turn the reel back a few months to make matters clearer. 

A stray cat stated frequenting my house around six months back. Being drowning deep neck in studies as my exams were nearing she could instill little interest in me then. Nonetheless, to my awe, the house started witnessing an unprecedented event those days. Yes, my parents were her biggest admirers! 

They fed her. They talked to her. They patted her. They made it a point to never forget to buy fish for her while they shopped for kitchen supplies. They called her sweet names. Need I say more, she was the darling of the family! 

She is all grown up now!

Having performed my exams, with loads of time to spare, I started noticing the guest who would wander around in my house, sleep on the ice cold floor as if she owned it and pay me little heed, let alone acknowledge me. The emotions that were once locked away in the dusty crevices of my past resurface a second time, much to my surprise. 

She conquered me in the blip of a second and in no time she was my soft, fluffy, lazy friend. She responds to my voice, sighs when I pat her and rubs her neck against my legs when she misses me. Moreover, she is my pacifier who consoles me in times of worry, to cloak me in a warm blanket of comfort, placing a smile on my lips, however disturbed I am. One look at her and the world seems a better place to harbour. 

Pets would, perhaps, be the most wonderful companion anyone could get!


                                                                      ~~


P.S : I wrote this post two months back. It had been lingering on the draft section. But now I have a reason to put the post across. My cat gave birth to four kittens! Let me tell you, they are a treat to watch!Check out the photos :) 

My pirate- My Jack Sparrow

                                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                             

Love And Other Enchantments - The Dream Ship

In one of my previous posts, I had mentioned about a short story anthology, titled Love and other enchantments which has been sailing, albeit along crests and troughs, for a few months now. Two days back we received the design of our book's front cover.The publishers had asked us if we had any particular suggestion regarding the diagrammatic representation of our collection, and we had conveyed the theme that was brewing in our minds. The theme was solely love and its essence, although a bit skewed towards the poignant nature of it, more than the picture of mushiness that most people tend to associate love stories with. And this is owing to the fact that each story in the anthology is soulful, portraying the sheer intensity of the varied shades of love, rather than focussing merely on the exhilarating nature of it. 

Here, take a look at the design and you will know :- 

I would like to thank the publishers- Blue Rose Publishers for being thoughtful enough to listen to us and for having come up with a cover design, which exudes evocativeness as much as subtleness. And it should not be left unsaid the sturdiness of our group - The Fictitious Five, members of which being along with me, Akash Deep, Anuj Kumar, Ishan dafaria and Tanima Kedar, because of which, despite having had conflicting ideas at times, we could dissect each one's opinion to reach a fitting conclusion. 

Having let out a few nuggets about my new venture, I would also like to add that, our dream ship is now on its final lap, gearing for release, which should happen in a couple of weeks. 

Stay with me for more updates :)

                                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hues of Joy

A

Lather

Soft as dew,

Descended slow

In my heart, so deep

To glide past crevices -

Sublime, sheer effervescence.

A joy so rich, luscious and rare,

Leaves you panting, prodding for more

For joy is a dream!- such vibrant and true.

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S :- This poem has been written in a form of poetry called 'Ethere', where each line contains as much number of syllables as the number of the line.

Of Dreams And Life - Friday Musings

                                               Dreams form an inevitable part of a human's life. They inspire us, prompt us and ignite us with the much needed impetus to move forward surviving all odds to finally make the desire a reality. We don't always end up with what we dream, but at other times we do. We aren't offered opportunities in a platter most of the times, but at other times, we stumble upon opportunities while carousing our way through the life pathway. Life is such - weird, instinctive and purposeful - all rolled into one. 

So coming to the purpose of this post, a lot has been happening in my life lately. Being someone who loves reading blog posts with thoughts detailed in an alluring manner, my heart nudges me to do the same, as I outline the incidents one by one.

Pause

There comes a day, as the body's work cycle makes a complete circle, when you start having that irksome feeling of drive draining from your body. And by drive here I mean the command of your inner diligent self that inspires you to put forward your best effort in whatever you do.

To Life!

Moving across the cacophonous lives of people displayed on the medium, I take a minute to adsorb in the many vagaries of life. In the frantic hurry to grab limelights, nurturing an implicit intention to be noticed in the crowd, aren't we knowingly or unknowingly forgetting the truest joys of mankind? To be appreciated is anyone's secret desire and it comes without say that there is indeed no harm in it. But, have you ever wondered that, perhaps, there exists an invisible fine line between a desire and greed?

The October That Was !

Months fly by in a jiffy. Harking back, they seem to dissociate into powdery thin bits of the past, those moments that arrived into your life with magnanimous gestures. Few of them manage to remain equally important several days from the happening, but few others fail irrevocably. Maybe it's an idea worth upholding to jot down nitbits from the past,however trivial they may seem in the big picture, so that several years down the lane you would find yourself sweeping away the dust from the attic only to confront the long forgotten gems of your life, the things that made you who you are. 

Of Rain And Life

“I hate rain!”. I stated quite blatantly as the steady downpour dampened my voice. The person on the other end of the phone exclaimed in disbelief. Quite obviously so. For I myself is yet to see atleast one person in a group of five who doesn’t hold the mystifying physiology of earth, that is rain, close to his or her heart. He went onto dissect in fervor the many pros of rain and how it pacified him, refreshing his body and soul, while i blabbered on the many cons like how a rainy day created a havoc in my life, especially when it announced its entry early in the mornings while i am all dressed up neatly for a fresh beginning. 

Altruism

                    Ten years back, on this auspicious date, she got married to Borah. The wedding had been stupendous. Dressed up in her mother’s jewellery, she looked every bit a princess.  The love socked jets  thrown to her through Borah’s gaze  pierced all the way through her blossomed body to the very core – her fluttering heart, only to enthral him with the sight of a bright red hue that spread on her cheeks. His eyes, the colour of jet black kohl, caressed her intentionally and she saw herself cocooning into a shy petite mould inside them. That night, they made love on a floral mattress, the mesmerising odour of fresh flowers insinuating deep into her senses, reviving them.

                 Sita sat huddled in their kitchen, serving him his favourite dish, as the beautiful events of her past flashed across her mind. A hesitant smile dangled at the corners of her quivering lips as she snuggled closer onto her most precious asset, a saffron saree gifted by him in the nascent stage of their marital journey.

 " The food is bland " 

                Borah remarked unabashedly. Resentful and hurt, an excruciating pain swept through her as those words jostled her back to the present.

               Her mother’s dying words came rushing to her heart the very next moment, like it did in every other time of adversity. Love wins all battles.  She just had to keep loving him ignoring all odds, subservient and altruistic, she knew.

"I need to be more careful tomorrow". Sita told herself

Chapter 24 - The Past Revealed

 Read the previous chapter : The Games They Played

               The formidable building that lay sprawled infront of him, with inexplicable and hideous facts tucked away safely into each crevice, brought jitters to Aryan’s already muddled thought flux.

Blood Is Red, So Is A Blush

Team Name :  Maximus Dramaticus

Read the twelfth part of the story here :- Into The Clutch Of Fate

‘Life is a rollercoaster ride’. Wasn’t that the phrase people utter eloquently to define life in the most pragmatic of ways! Paresh recalled as he sat manoeuvring the steering wheel of his Porsche, staring deep  into the gloominess, cloaked in black, that lay seamlessly ahead. Getting a bail was the easiest thing a person of his stature could do! Did they miss that! 

The Warning

                       Team Name :  Maximus Dramaticus

Read the third part of the story The Enigmatic Exploration before proceeding please


                                                       ~~~~~~~
         
                              Meanwhile, the days were rolling slowly in yet another part of the country. Shekhar sat stooped forward in his study drenched in the caressing gaze of the setting sun.

The Silver lining

                                  There comes a day, as the body's work cycle makes a complete circle, when you feel the drive draining from your body. And by drive here i mean the demand of your inner diligent self to be the best in whatever you do and not that spark in you to be alive and smiling. Losing it is not worthless, nor should it sound tardy, for once in a while it would be the best sidetrack you take to reach your milestone the earliest, for it serves you just like a few second stop to recondition serves a racing car.

If a thought or an idea keeps ticking, nagging you at the back of your heart, consider it being deserving enough to be fulfilled. Whether true or not, this nugget has guided me for long since it dawned on me one fine day when the teen in me used to worship every paulo coelho book that came my way. The idol has since been replaced by quite many other authors, yet the nugget has managed to stay put.

So, as my biological clock started pushing and shoving me to take a break, i found my brain involuntarily polishing the nugget which got buried beneath an unnamed sulcus some time back. 

And thus saw the entry of these gems to the seemingly unenthusiastic world of another unrelated genre of books. An amalgamation of fiction and non fiction ( if medical books can be tagged so). 

Down with 'Another man's wife' i am already the happiest soul in the world. Sometimes, a book can fill that much dreaded vacuum in you like no other thing can - atleast in its own reassuring way. 

Sadly, i had to take to the new habit of reading a book few pages at a time owing to the many constraints.Harking back, that too had its perks. It helped me savour every page in its entirety as i was in no hurry to lap up the whole book in a few hours time, which used to be my habit otherwise, more due to ardor than impatience.

That said, let me wrap this account up. There is more to read and even more to learn. 

But before you go, is there something new you did this week ? Or maybe a new book you read ? Tell me about it:)

The Belief

Far away, tucked in the sleepy downhill of one of the tallest mountains, existed a village named Lakora, peppered with dusky women and even duskier men. They spoke a language which was yet to metamorphose into strings of words written with a hearty soul. The hill peaks gave birth to sun every morning, well before six, showering the brightest rays on Mother Earth’s cheeks. The unrelenting cries that accompanied the same as birds fluttered their wings to distant places in search of food, settled into pleasantries at the warmth of the baby’s touch. 

This small space was intriguing in varied aspects. It was a mystery, the many dungeons hidden away in this murky of a place and the many secrets that had accumulated in those over the years.

‘ They brought illness to the family. They did. Those big blue marks!’, Buja stated explicitly. 

Lova listened to her grandmother, wide eyed as strands of jet black hair flung lower down onto her waist. She involuntarily caressed her pregnant abdomen, stretching her wrought, swollen legs on the steel cold cemented floor. The waft of spices being crushed at the nearest mill brought tears to her eyes. She suppressed a sneeze with the inside of her hand  as the old lady continued in her hoarse voice, diseased with abuse over the years,

‘ They kicked you a lot,Lova.They kicked you a lot. It never happened with the good ones. Terrible creatures they are - with blue sinful marks! But see, God exists. Never was devil of that sort delivered in this village after the aftermath that happened in Boa’s family.

‘ What happened to Boa’s family?’

‘ Not one member of her family survived the outrageous fire that broke out in their haystack years back the day that young girl gave birth to the ugliest little baby with the largest blue mark i have ever seen on its back, the last of that kind ever sighted in this village. Poor Boa and her husband. How happy were they before that dark cursed day!’

A soft groan slid through Lova's flushed lips. The tiredness of pregnancy was starting to take a toll on her delicate body, with each kick of her baby’s feet against her womb, every five minutes, sending a strange shiver down her spine. 

A torrent of deep burning thoughts rushed through Lova’s mind at the instant her grandmother shut her mouth up, a handful of betel nut leaves now engaging her tongue. Her village never had such a baby ever since? What were the odds of that happening? No one of that sort existed atleast in the near vicinity of the mountains. How strange! 

Lova shifted her place onto the armchair which gave her more space to relax while the baby moved inside with fervor. Her grandmother’s sordid words lingered in her thoughts as her heart started pacing to and fro in an arrhythmic pattern - 'sinful baby!'. 

A tiny droplet settled on her forehead startling her from her reverie. Huge black clouds raced towards her, wrapping her house in the heaviest of the blankets.

The next morning  Lova’s house woke up writhing in the wails of its occupants. Lova rested crying in her grandmother's arms as her distraught mother wiped away with trembling hands, the fresh blood stains on her daughter’s thighs.

' Why Lova, Why?' 

Lova muttered in between helpless sobs,

‘ The devil. It kicked me a lot, Ma. It kicked me a lot’

The fiery shade on Buja's face gave way to an implicit smile which dangled at the corners of her mouth. A blood stained death to a blood stained inception! Buja wondered at the tenacity of the belief that stained rooted over the years. She awed at how it stayed preserved amidst neololiberalism and modernity - safe in the manipulative hands of the midwifes or further yet, in the amateur quivering hands of the young hapless mothers. 

In Lakora, wasn't belief all that mattered ? 

Buja caressed Lova's restless locks as fresh strokes of pride blossomed on her cheeks. Her grand daughter had just saved them from a havoc. 

                                       _______________________
    

So, do you love what you do ?

                       I never yearned to be a doctor. But my parents knew better. They wanted our family to have a doctor who could take care of the members without having to go through the direness and hazzles of apprehensively rushing to a hospital not knowing what the diagnosis would be. Not that a doctor could treat a person solely within the confines of the four walls of a home, but nonetheless, if I were a doctor I would judge the situation better and would pacify the members for good – such were the reasons that formed the crux  of the long yearned for dream.

God listened to parents. True. He is there for me. I know. But He listened to them more than He listened to me.  I wanted to be a journalist or an engineer or at the least someone who could spent atleast five days of a month sans the worries of work. But, no. He made me a doctor. And then he flung me past the biggest hurdle that is the post graduation exam to place me safely on the other side.

So, do I regret that God listened to my parents more than he did to my prayers?

Life is an illusion. The things that we desire for the most cease to be worthy once we get a grab on them. On the other hand, something repulsive at first glance turns out to be a life long treasure in the course of time. Life is such.

So after toiling for one whole decade of my life I find myself  in a place where I belong to more than anywhere else. White overcoats, green surgeon’s gowns, cape and mask and emergency procedures. Life has painted itself white – Peace.

Peace? No, never. Three migraines a week is more that I can handle. Sixty hours a week. Sometimes more. Being a resident is no cakewalk- someone had told. I remember dismissing it with a jeer.

Being there for others is no easy matter. But then, isn’t that part of your job? Yes, it is. But I am pretty sure the number of doctors who sweat out day and night,without bites of food at times, far outweigh the ones who serve people solely as an ordeal.

Harking back, I feel I made the best mistake by filling up the premedical entrance application. I really did. How can I explain to you why? I cannot. I live the answer to the question. Every single day.

So, are you someone who love what you do ? 

Wiping Away The Dust

One whole year. Unbelievably so ! A year passed by sans a single post on my blog. A year passed by with no creativity firing up my grey cells. A year passed by engulfed in the smoky mist of white coats. A year passed by trying to decipher the course of nerves, the worth of ganglia and the mechanisms that keep humans breathe with peace. A year since i embarked on my post graduation course in ENT surgery - A lot to say, a lot to share.

I wouldnt be here yet if not for two incidents that occured a period spanning the last two months. 

*  My school reunion that happened last week
*  For that wonderful, smoldering mail from The Tamarind Rice team ,letting this proud spirit know about their decision to showcase her article At The Bookshop at their literary meet ' Literary Lapses'

School reunions always arrive carrying a mixed bag of emotions . Nostalgia mounting beyond seams can be overwhelming at times and at other times they can leave you all brooding when reminded about the good things that withered away over the time. And this time, it came as a common query - ' Why dont you write these days, Maliny?' 

Oh, i missed writing ! I did. But these were months when the thought of sitting lost in a fluffy cushion typing away word after word, spewing posts felt like a luxury. 

And i am not yet sure how long away is my next post. Nevertheless, i badly need to satisfy my itch to write something this very moment and that too,with all my heart. Now that i have done it there are few words to describe exactly what i feel right now. Enlightened, maybe?

There are times when you need to sail with the wind. So that you derive as much power as you can to sail against it when your mind years for it the most. There are low times. There are duties to be performed. There are goals to be achieved. There is a time to toil. There is a time to let free. There is a time to celebrate.

Life runs a course. This moment,i realise that sometimes,it is fine to abide by the rules of fate. Sometimes it is alright to float and not to fly. But never let the spark die out. Let it burn within in the lightest of the shades. You never know. The very next minute might very well be the that perfect polishing moment you had waited for all along. 

Delicious Tamarind Rice

Life might seem like a precarious boat ride on an enraged sea amidst cold showers at times, but still, interlaced with snippets of calmness granted by a sunny day and the pacifying hopes of the sight of a sandy shore past the horizon, the ride can transform into an enticing one at the most unexpected of times. Such a sliver of joy knocked at my door last week, while my days had gone haywire for a few irrevocable matters. For a writer, to receive a mail with the subject emboldened in bright letters which screams out that ' YOU WERE PUBLISHED', in any sort of medium for that matter, would be an intoxicating feeling sans doubt. And one such rewarding moment completely made my day when i received a mail from the Tamarind Rice people notifying me that my story was published in their July issue. 

Being their subscriber,i could read the issue wholly and all the more easily by downloading the pdf and it wouldn't be ornamental if i state that i was thoroughly amazed by the quality of the contents, a few by bloggers i read and enjoy on a regular basis too. The readers can vote for their favourite write ups in the vote and win section of the website and better yet, can be winners too in the process if you are lucky. 

In the August issue, they are breaking free from their usual norms and are sticking to a particular theme, the details of which could be found Here. Go ahead and contribute if your nerve cells have already started firing away at the mention of the theme!

Tamarind Rice, in my opinion stands out from the rest of the online literary magazines owing to the fresh and absorbing contents and the vibrant ideas that they come forward with every new issue. 

They say, 'Never to judge a book by its cover'. And maybe extrapolating the idea a little bit, here we could say, 'Never to judge a magazine by its title'. But i would advise each of you to unhesitatingly go ahead and judge this online magazine by its befitting title, for every little bead of rice in this particular dish is as delicious as it could ever get.

You can reach the magazine here at Tamarind Rice. I had re posted my entry in this magazine 'At The Bookshop' as a fiction on my blog by another name- That Final Arc. If you like the story, vote for me here at Vote and Win.