Wanted to share with you the first ever review of my book of short stories “The Girl with the Paisley Dupatta and other stories”. The review was done by Maha Qazi of the YouTube channel Maha’s Musings.
She’s done a pretty good summary of the book in general and has also mentioned very relevant specifics from within some of the stories.
Take a look!
(P.S. I would describe myself as a “corporate RUT absconder. A bit of a Nutty enigma in the intro there! 😅)
I pick it up, I feel its form I hold it in my hands, the warmth Transfers slowly and I sense The tingle of the words within
I gaze at the lines upon its face I turn it over, my eyes trace The tale it whispers all its own Its beauty hidden, as yet unknown The seeds of intrigue have been sown It invites me in, in subtle tones We follow, I and my intuition On lightning wings, we race in! Another stridently demands that I Feel its spine from end to end And then I oftentimes comply As it tells its story by and by
I leave my existence behind For a while I’m in another life I go on voyages fraught with love With pain, with humor with suspense I journey on through these realms Sometimes laughing sometimes tense And then I will glance again At the portal to the world I’m in Pausing my trip-in words The story wraps itself up, and I’m Whisked back into the world Where I’m dutifully marking time
I feel its form one last time I leave it with a wistful smile That Teller of a myriad tales Waits until I visit it again
* Title inspiration from the novel by Thomas Hardy of the same name
I’m alone … but I’m not really alone In all the ways that don’t matter That shouldn’t matter, I’m never alone In all the ways that I need someone In all the ways of being human I’m alone. There is no one.
It wasn’t always like this, this lonesomeness It came on slowly as time went by As I transitioned, nay devolved Dislodged from the blessed marital fold From a wife to a wretched divorcee From a daughter to a social deportee
I couldn’t be the woman he’d conceptualised His wife to be. Already fantasizing He was in heaven itself, spoilt for choice By the virgins lined up in waiting For him to pick one or four to be his own I got picked first, then I got disowned.
I’ve been alone these twenty five years Fading ever more into the background As time trudges on with heavy treads My aura fades, my voice has no sound I tried to talk louder at first to be heard But the booming voices of the world Were louder still, my voice was drowned
Now I sit alone marking time For when the cosmos sees fit to smile In a new welcome; in a final decline I see people but they see me not They saw me only when I came out Of the box, against the tide of tradition Then there was outrage, there was derision
I don’t go out anymore nor do I Try to be bigger than the box fitted for me I sit in it quietly, patiently Lonely oh so lonely … but not really In all the ways that shouldn’t matter Im not alone. They all watch me In all the ways that would make my heart sing I’m alone, waiting for the final curtain.