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EMPEROR OF ABHOR: A man who hates things around him, and is so blind to his hatred that he wants to destroy everything, including himself.
2:10: Amit Sehgal falls in love with Tanya Gill, and for him, it was love at first sight. But did Tanya Gill hold the same feelings for him? Or was there something about Tanya that he failed to see?
INTERSECTION: The encounter between dream and nightmare.
BLACKWOOD FOREST: A dark secret is revealed.
ILLUMINATION: Krsna Gyawali visits his home and comes back with a secret recipe.
THE HOST: Raj and Kabir, two friends, stop for a night in a local guesthouse ''Kumar's Bungalow'' but to their horror, the night seems to never end.
TWENTY-ONE AND CLUELESS: Vijay Jai Mehta is a 21-year-old boy who has no dreams about his life or ambition till he has choose between life and death.
THE HARBINGER: A child is born in Northern Europe and will bring destruction to the Jewish race.
THE CONVOCATION: Sambu hated the Pradhan Bogi Lal from his village, Nurpur, and he wanted to kill him. He asked his uncle, Badri Prasad, to help him.
The crescent moon was useless tonight; it was pitch dark all around, and the rain was pouring down heavily, hitting the hard ground vigorously.
″Agggghhhhhooo!″ The agony cry crossed the skyline
and the falling rain attempted to suppress it, but failed miserably as the cry
came once again and this time loud enough to wake up the dead. However, it did
shake up Bali Singh, Zamindar Gaya Singh's personal bodyguard.
Bali
Singh was on his guard post just outside his master's bedroom when the
agonised cry made him stand up with a start, and he rushed towards the open
balcony and out into the courtyard.
It
was dark, very dark, outside the courtyard, and the tall trees planted around it
made it darker. The lamppost inside the courtyard blinked from time to time as
it fought to survive against the heavy rainfall.
Bali
Singh shook his head and was about to turn back when the cry ranted across the
sky again.
″Agggghhhhhooo″
It
was a terrible cry as if someone was in a terrible state of pain.
Bali
Singh squeezed his eyes and tried to see if someone was out in the courtyard, but except for the darkness, he couldn't see anything. He rubbed his chin roughly
while thinking about what to do. Then he thought, 'Should I wake the master or should I raise an alarm?' but nixed both ideas, thinking that if these cries turned out to be nothing serious. He woke up the master over a false alarm;
he was sure going to get his skin whipped apart by the master for disturbing
his sleep over nothing, and just the thought of the thick leather whip made him
shudder.
″Agggghhhhhooo″ the agony cry came again.
Bali
Singh couldn't take it anymore; he wrapped his thick blanket around his
shoulders, picked up his stave and his lantern and was out in the courtyard
within minutes. For a few minutes, he swung his burning lantern around the
courtyard.
It
was dark, very dark, outside the courtyard, and the tall trees planted around it
made it darker. The lamppost inside the courtyard blinked from time to time as
it fought to survive against the heavy rainfall.
Bali
Singh shook his head and was about to turn back when the cry ranted across the
sky again.
″Agggghhhhhooo″
It
was a terrible cry as if someone was in a terrible state of pain.
Anupama
peered out at me through fatigue-filled eyes, and there was no recognition in
her brown eyes.
I
froze, looking at her appearance.
Anupama’s natural brown colour, waist-length hair, dishevelled and unwashed, and the green evening gown she wore had stains on them. Her feet were bare, and there were dark circles under her brown eyes, as if she had not slept for
weeks.
“Anu,
it is I Vikram Shah your cousin brother Vicky.” I ventured to look at her.
There
was a flicker in Anupama’s eyes, and she blinked them several times and then
said in a hoarse voice. “Vicky, is it really you, oh thank god, you got my
letter.”
“Yeah,
I received it yesterday, what’s wrong?” I asked.
Anupama
sighed, and a relief flickered across her face. Then she chattered, “Please come in, mama will be so glad to see you.” She caught my hand and tugged me into the house.
I
stepped inside. (Later, when I recollect that moment wryly, I think that one step I took in the house was my fatal one) The house was a mess, and there
was no question about it; things in the drawing room were strewn,
everywhere things lay here and there, and no one bothered to pick or set them
right!
If
I remember correctly from my last visit, the bungalow had nine rooms, the
drawing room led to the three rooms, of which one was a large kitchen, and its
door opened into the backyard and upstairs were the remaining rooms with a
staircase that led up to an open terrace.
“Come
upstairs, Mama is in bed, she is not keeping well lately,” Anupama said, hurrying up the stairs.
I
paced to catch up with her. “Anu, something serious?” I asked anxiously, referring to my aunt.
“Yes,
everything, everything,” she replied
“What’s wrong with Aunt?” I questioned her reply, puzzled.
😱
Something was not right with the people living in MEHTA VILLA. To read the complete story, click on the book link below the book cover.
Malghut was a beautiful village; it had a good, clean, deep beach, the sand golden
in colour. The village lanes were clean and planted on their sides with coconut
trees, which not only gave their thirst-quenching nectar but also shaded the
village from the sun. There was ripening rice in the fields, and the sweet scent
of flowers wafted everywhere. The villagers were a sturdy and hard-working lot;
they also kept their village as clean as possible.
Inspector
Vinayaka took in all this as the jeep travelled over the dusty trail to
Pradhan’s house. They reached the large pond of sweet water, which was refilled
every year with bountiful rainwater.
Two women
were drying some pickles near the pond edge as they chatted.
The jeep
traversed the pond and entered a small lane at the end of which stood Pradhan’s
house.
Constable
Uttar Jeri parked the jeep outside the gate.
Pradhan was
waiting for them in his house's beautiful garden.
Greetings
were exchanged, and sweet lemon juices were offered.
Inspector
Vinayaka took a sip of his ice-cold sweet lemon juice and then turned to
Pradhan and asked. “Well, I believe there is something you want to tell me.”
Pradhan
Shankar Deshmukh nodded his head “Yes, yes, finish your drink, and then we will
go to a place.”
“Where?
Inspector Vinayaka questioned, finishing his lemon juice and keeping the empty
glass on the table.
“To Goral
Maar’s house,” Pradhan replied.
They got
back into the jeep and drove to the other side of the village near the hill
where Goral Maar lived.
I hope this
is something serious, the way Deshmukh is wasting the Jeep’s diesel. Inspector
Vinayaka thought wryly.
They came to
a house set amongst some trees near the road that led the way out of the
village.
“Sahib, this
is Goral Maar’s house, I don’t know if you know him or not,” Pradhan said.
Inspector
Vinayaka shook his head negatively.
“Thought so,
Goral lives here all alone, he has a son who stays and works in Bombay and
he visits Goral once every two years.”
“Deshmukh
Sahib, what is the problem?” Inspector Vinayaka cut in. He was in no mood for
one of Pradhan’s famous long stories.
“Vinayaka
Sahib, Goral has disappeared; he’s not to be found anywhere in the village or
near the village,” Pradhan replied without any further ado.
🔨
Malghut, a small, beautiful village with a secret tale to be unfolded that will never be forgotten by those who will live to tell. To read the complete story, click on the link below the book cover.
He emerged from the small alley that was
parallel to the main road. He strolled, almost moving his legs. He was
exhausted and very hungry. An entire day had passed since he had eaten his last
nourishment, and now his throat felt dry and parched. He strolled on the
footpath, eyeing the shops selling all kinds of edible items, and he spat, his
eyes watering, staring at the food displayed at the shop's windows and out in
the open food stalls and food carts. He licked his lips and smacked his mouth
as he looked at the piled-up, luscious fruits and snacks. As he looked at
the other side of the road, he saw food kiosks lined up like
bogies, and the cooks were busy preparing hot, fast food and serving it to the waiting
customers. Then some restaurants and cafes were crowded with foodies, eating,
drinking and commanding. He was watching the people eating, drinking and
ordering, which made him feel a bit dizzy.
🔪
To read the full story, click on the book link below the cover. However, you have been warned to read the book with the lights on.💡
I
shone the torchlight on my wristwatch, 2:15: a.m., the watch declared.
Walking
downstairs, I walked into the kitchen and poured some sweet cold water from the
earthen jug into a glass, and I drank.
After
drinking two glasses of cold sweet water, I walked out of the kitchen and was
about to head upstairs to my room, when I heard voices that sounded like
whispering!
I
froze in my tracks! Thinking perhaps some robbers or a thief has entered the
house. I looked around the kitchen and found a long wooden pole. I picked it up,
holding it firmly in my hand, and walked very quietly in the direction of the
whispering voices.
Shielding
the beam of my torch, I turn to a corner. The voices were coming from a room. I tiptoed and pressed my ear to the door, and was shocked to recognise
the voice of Davey and his father.
An
argument was going on between the two of them!
“But
father, it is okay,'' Davey whispered.
“You
are mad; you should have asked me, before bringing him here.” Dinah Pindar
whispered fiercely.
“It
is okay, he won’t know a thing,” Davey said.
In
disbelief, I realised that they were discussing me!
“Davey,
you are a fool, don’t you realise the season will be on us, and soon things
will not be as easy as you think, not with strangers around us? Dinah Pindar
whispered impatiently.
There
was a moment of silence!
I
waited anxiously to hear what Davey would say, and then Davey spoke up.
“If
things do not go as I have planned, I will see to it personally,” Davey said
mysteriously.
I
waited patiently to hear more, but I couldn't hear anything else, and then I heard footsteps; they were coming out of the room.
Quickly, I hide in the shadows!
The
door opened, and they came out. Without a glance around, they walked away.
I
stayed in the shadows, my mind in turmoil! I felt overwhelmed and drained, and
there and then, I decided to leave for Bombay
in the morning.
Something
was wrong here; something was definitely wrong.
👥
There is something wrong with the Sidashan Village. To READ the complete story, click on the link below the book cover.
Idistinctly remember
that summer two years ago when Rajesh and I made plans to visit our uncle,
who owns a house in the countryside. It was going to be a surprise visit, and we
had decided to travel by train. Rajesh was my cousin's brother and the elder
son of my mother’s elder sister; thus, he was a year older than me.
Shankar
Sepal, our uncle, had retreated to the country house after the death of our aunt,
who had retired as a “Senior Editor” of our town’s local newspaper. It had been
five years since he had left for the country, and our visit, in a way, was to be
the first one for him.
That
summer two years back had been very hot and humid, and on one such hot
summer afternoon, the two of us packed our rucksacks and departed to visit our
uncle. In our minds, we were delighted to escape the city's heat for the
cool hills and to the huge house where our uncle lived.
However,
today, when I reminisce about that summer day two years ago, I find a few questions in my mind that remain unanswered.
To Read More, Click On The Link Below The Book Cover.
