Showing posts with label Fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fantasy. Show all posts
September 14, 2012

Magic Realism And Three Women - A Review

Fractured LegendFractured Legends -  Kranthi Askani
Publishers - APK Publisher
Genre - Speculative fiction - Contemporary fantasy - magic realism - women's fiction
Novel - Paperback - 200  Pages
Price: Rs 192
Available at Flipkart.com/Indiaplaza.com  (India)

Blurb:
We are like the moths that follow invisible spiral loops to go round and round a flickering flame before jumping into the center leaving in their wake, a glowing red sore in the eye of the flame,” says the narrator, a temple slave. Priyambada makes up her mind to leave the temple where she melt into flesh at night and froze into statue by the morning. She renounces her immortal chalices, the temple facades, for a mortal life, for a life in flesh... But the tangles of life in flesh – marriage and bearing children – thrust her into a world of tribulations that cast her off into the past, sealed past, frozen past...
Nandhini, a professional assassin, is plagued by an assignment to retrieve a mysterious manuscript that is smeared with a rope of blood across its pages. She finds herself in the midst of a complex game of deceit and rivalry between two factions... Pravalli is drafting a very long letter to her mother. She is grieving, glowering, repenting, atoning....
Fractured Legend is the story of these three women who are sailing away from their turbulent pasts, the denouement puzzlingly curling them all together into one tight ribbon of hope...

This narrative follows the lives of three women - Priyambada who as a temple slave is immortal, but forgoes it for a human life and goes through the cycle of marriage & childbirth. Though she can't make a clear break from her past; she is happy in her new life. Nandhini is a trained assassin eliminating people for a price. She is entrapped by a close relative to kill someone related to her job, and for the first time in her life wonders at the futility of it all. Pravalli, on the other hand, is estranged from her mother Priyamvada over the secrets of the past, and is writing a letter of forgiveness and trying to come in terms with her mother's behaviour. The story progresses through the eyes, actions and reactions of the three female protagonists.

I liked the use of magic realism to get the tale across. That the book is based on a female perspective focusing on the trials and tribulations of Indian women (some of these aspects have universal connotation) makes it interesting enough to plow through the slow first 1/3 of the book.

The author had tried to portray the heroines (each of them is one in their own right) in a humane, understanding and empathic manner. He has attempted to infuse a vintage feel to the grey of contemporary realities. The concept is intriguing enough, and comes as breath of fresh air among all the college romances and chick-lits floating on the Indian book scene. It shows a side of India, applicable to many regions of the world, where women are struggling to assert themselves, while being bound to often well meaning but grossly misused traditions and customs.


 If you can leave aside all rational expectations of the world we inhabit, the book has the ability to move you with the sadness, pain and loneliness of the three women. The secondary characters, especially the husband - Priyamvada’s and son - Nandhini’s stand out, though their presence in the book is limited. The women move back and forth through their memories, dream a lot and often traverse between the real and surreal world. The author has left us with an open ended story, maybe a sequel is in line. 

 On the flip side, the author uses a dry narrative style of storytelling throughout the novel. The lack of dialogues makes it a very distracting read. For someone used to books, even long winded classic ones, with flowing conversations, this can be a difficult book to attempt and read through. The sentence structure  is awkward, and the overuse of adjectives and adverbs could have been avoided.

I am not sure I could recommend this book to a reader in its current version despite descriptive and detailed analysis of the lives of contemporary women and use of magic realism. A major review of the language usage and a rewrite would do wonders for this book. 

I would give this book a 3/5 rating basically for the debut effort, for attempting a book without the prejudices of the male point of view and for choosing a difficult women's related story.

Personal Disclaimer: This book was recieved for the purpose of review, hence the post in entirety is my basic impression after reading the book. It is not based on intervention by the author, publishing house or the blog review forum.
May 05, 2012

Restless

Story Outline


"Some things never change around here." Simi poked around trying to fish out the harried souls.
The souls in question seeking solace from the stern elders, often alone or in groups of two and three by the lake.
'Sharing secrets inside the mansion walls was both embarrassing and dangerous' opined the teenagers.
This bunch was not smarter than the ones in the preceding years but used a different system of disguises. Hard to know if the portly, middle aged man she detected was indeed Shammi Uncle.
'Offending a senior member of the household meant hanging off a cliff like... Ria...
what the hell was that?'
***

Shammi replied “The Green Dew.”
Simi looked at him, a fear and question in her eyes as the others looked to the edge.
Ria or her lack thereof forgotten.
“Gather your clan children here,  protect them all.”  Time to seek his estranged warrior brothers, their very existence at stake.
***

He paced across the floor, impatiently awaiting the messenger’s return.
‘The fool of an imp must have left the mansion four hours ago, can’t these useless fools do one thing right?’
He dismissed his personal aide with a flick of the hand, causing the poor creature to crash onto the cold stone floor outside the room.
The crystal revealed nothing as yet.
‘The ancients had set strong wards…but not for long.’
The curse was almost ready. The final words of the mantra left, to be uttered on the blue moon night, two days hence.
Hidden by him in the old walls 150 years ago, it slumbered waiting the unleashing of its dark potency.
“Only the mad old bat knows where…”
He chuckled loudly, scaring the Bagoons in the cages.
She had played her part well, all these years, and would soon be rewarded for her loyalty.
They would be ‘The Lord of the lands and his consort.’ with all the high born crushed under his heels.
The Council had exiled him over his dark aides as they called them. In reality, he knew that they were scared and envious of his newly acquired powers. The spineless cowards had been unwilling to break the ancient oath and grab at everlasting glory, proclaiming truth and light as the greatest gifts.
‘He would show them the meaning of greatness, true power.’
 A scrap at the open roof grabbed his attention, the vulture glided down, encircling the clustered room.
Casting a quick, non verbal spell; transformed the scavenger into the hideous shape of his slave.
Trembling hands handed him the silk scroll wrapped up in protective Kusha grass.
‘Remove the grass blanket!’ he thundered, pulling away his hand as though it had been singed.
If things went well, the hated Charis’, Shaks’ and Warriers’, in particular, would be graced by an ancient visitor on the next moonless night. The Green Dew would bring with it, this time, the Elder Borns’ decimation. 
***
My muse is keen on a romantic twist, she refuses to cooperate otherwise so this stays as first chapter for now. ;(


Tentative Chapter 1 -  Going Back


 1

The day faded into the dark cloudy sky. So much like her dreams and hopes that were pushed into the farthest recesses of her mind. Often, she sat on the parapet in that corridor and gazed at the crowd around her. Some faces looked back at her with the familiarity of shared time, some recognising her as one they often passed by on their way to and back from. There were few that barely acknowledged her person except to taunt and tease. But even they were forced to retreat and seek other avenues of amusement...for today, she was oblivious. Her thoughts were thousands of miles away where her heart lay still, broken and shattered on that carpeted floor of a place that had once been a second home. Maybe Fazia swept away those invisible pieces in a single, mindless motion under the carpet. Pity broken hearts did not bleed, even magical ones...else someone would have noticed the faint red stains; red, not blue like some still liked to believe.
 The envelope in her hand, a beautiful one at that, artistic like the sender and yet it held the destructive powers of an atomic bomb. Courage that she had been gathering for the last two hours, to open and read the contents of the card eluded her. Words that could well turn out to be the final nail on the coffin of her dreams. She had been prepared for this moment from the evening she had fled that room. These three years had been difficult and yet strangely, fulfilling for her.

 2

 The rejection still ringing in her ears. She took perverse pleasure in that mocking tone, for that was the only way she could hear his voice.
The real memories too painful to look back into. Zeenat’s betrayal had rankled as she saw her in his embrace. But time had helped her see the truth…she was the one at fault, clutching at straws and being in love with someone whose heart had already been claimed. If only she had known, the countless times she had bored Zeenie with her tale of unrequited longing, she had been confiding her deepest secrets to the one he loved and who returned his affection. Humiliation and guilt had prevented her from saying her goodbyes; she had taken the cowardly way out of a letter. In a snap of a few minutes she had lost two of her beloved friends and many of her family. Another memory flickered of a day when her heart still beat, wildly at that.
“The Shakhs often marry close cousins, don’t they?’ she had asked casually, once.
He had just smiled as Zarine answered, “I am living proof.”
 She had been secretly thrilled at the thought that they were third generation cousins.
Little did her foolish day dreams permit her to see beyond the illusions, every glance, every smile which fell her way had been for the other one. The One, who had been their companion from childhood. 
Often nowadays she laughed aloud at her mistakes, which in turn evoked more glances from the students who passed by. One too many made; the worst had been confessing her feelings to him. The laughter which dissolved into hot tears as she glanced at the shiny paper in her hand.


 3

Aren't you going to open it? It is getting crushed under the weight of your hands.”
She turned around, to see a smiling Ced seated next to her, his long legs dangling awkwardly.
One of her best friends, he wasn’t the kind to laugh at her pain. The special bond they shared enabled him to be attuned to her emotional and mental state of mind. Puzzled at his behaviour, she remained silent. But the tears had stopped, his very presence giving her strength.
Ced waited, patience one of his many virtues. When it looked unlikely that she would utter a word or open the envelope whose true contents he was aware of, he pulled it away gently from her tight grasp.
 She let go, as she always did with people she trusted and cared for.
 He undid the strings, admiring the artistry of his cousins to reveal a golden coloured note attached to the envelope.
 He spelled the letter to speak loud enough for only the two of them to hear…
Exultations to one and all, our esteemed family, friends and allies.
The event had arrived that which every proud, honoured father looks to, the marriage of our beloved granddaughter…
“Stop, please, no more…” she cried as she jumped down from the wall preparing to flee.
“Running away never solved anything, Ria” unspelling it.
“Would you be so cruel to make me listen?” a pleading in her voice.
He smiled kindly “Trust me on this.”
Ria stood with her back to him, waiting for the familiar, gruff tone.


4


The letter spoke... barely hearing the words till the last name. She turned back in shock, snatching the letter from his hand. No matter how many times she read or heard it, the name was a constant. The card fell to the floor from shaky hands...her thoughts forming and unforming at a dizzying pace. It could be true, her dark thoughts...
'He couldn't be..., could he?'
She heard Ced's calm voice in her head. 'There must be another explanation.'
'He will never break his promise unless...'
'I tried reaching T.C but it is too noisy here.'
She looked at him, words were unnecessary between them.
'I have arranged for us to leave in three days...but you still have your exams to clear.'
Swinging her legs, 'Later, these classes are not of much use in our world, are they?'
'Then why waste three years?'
'As if, you don't know the answer to that?'
'You could have enrolled with me. You had the grades.'
 'Just the grades, not the aptitude...can't atleast you see? I needed to get away from them all. Those pitying faces, they knew, they always did.'
 Ced shook his head sadly, pulling away from their connection, 'You are so wrong. They still wonder why you had to leave, if the letters to Ceci are anything to go by.'


5



Three of her classmated passed her by. One waved  as the other two stared at her cousin.

She waved back robotically, surprised at the extra grins directed at her. With the exception of Sarah, the girl who waved, they had never spoke more than a few words to her in all these years. They considered her odd, often laughing at her Indian accent.

She made no move to introduce him, as she watched with equal contempt.

Turning to him, “So what where you saying? Those things in common?” raising an eyebrow.

“For once, are as stubborn as you.”

She had to laugh at that.



Epilogue


Ali and Simi trudged up the slope... the others would have gathered on the top by now.
Ali looked at the plains in grim silence.
 Simi walked quietly beside, the ideal travel and sparring partner to her twin, though she was hard pressed as to why he didn't fly the carpet.
Reading his thoughts, “ This journey is as much for her as Shammi Uncle, isn’t it?”
He looked at her for a moment and responded, “ I promised to protect her and failed.”
“You saved her life…the healer says that her soul is lost in the void, not left her body yet.”
Ali smiled,a first in many months.
There were many sad eyed, happy faces that stared back at them.
“How is Ria?” asked T.C as a small group approached them.
“ The same since you  last visited.”
“Come children, change into your robes, the memorial chants begin shortly.”













May 04, 2012

Journey's end


Lightning flashed in the distance. They sans one huddled closer drawing comfort from each other. The swirling black clouds were visible indicating that their journey was at its end. Yet, darkness would arrive before them. The winding road seemingly friendly an hour ago was at its treacherous best. The trees lining both sides were gnarled in places, hideous stumps at others, the roots spreading out onto the pathway like greedy fingers. The leafless branches rustled and bent towards them. This is an illusion. The shaman’s dying warning echoed. Icy hands trailed through their limbs. Fear, the warriors accepted, welcomed, but this unseen entity chilled their hearts, dulled their instincts, made them cower like the villagers they were bound to protect.
Ashan, the self appointed leader, twirled his blood stained scimitar. Basher balked at the other’s impatience, then nudged the unsure group forward. He waited for the one tagging behind. She moved with firm, alert steps belying her tender age. She had impressed Bashir by offering to be the bait. The council had happily agreed.
 He had sworn then to protect her with his life.  
A flash of light revealed the looming grey castle. Thunder made its presence felt. Then. Utter silence. They stopped a few feet away from the gates. Ashan turned to Bashir. “Take the girl and walk ahead. We follow close behind.”
Why single me out? “Come. It’s time.” in the kindest tone he could manage.
One of the gates unbolted, wide enough for a person to pass through.
 He stopped her as she moved forward. “I go first.”
The iron door closed behind them. Bashir rushed back trying in vain to wrench it open.
His reward was bloodied fingers.
Yasmin watched him, the slow hunger now a raging need. The warrior’s blood smelled sweet. A feast tonight.

Wc 300 Exact.

The Wee people

You glided in, in your emerald studded golden glass slippers. The swishing of the grass gown's train; a deliberate attempt at distraction.
 "Too much green." grumbled one the members seated on the semi circular table. Untrained eyes often mistook its multi coloured embellishment for a rainbow. He secretly wished he wasn't dating.
"Energetic, not our trait." the wee woman in a nasal snarl.
The wizened, hated head chuckled happily, gathering ominous stares from the others. He ignored them as was wont to, thrilled at the prospect of a female assistant. He had tired of the bushy eyebrows and matching beards that tortured his daily vision.
"Oh my! Exquisite shoes!"  the secretary with her hand on her heart.
You leaned closer and mouthed in her ear, "Like them?  My boyfriend's gift for St.George's day." .
"English!! Ya codding me? Wind your neck in, Colleen." the older woman cautioned.
You laughed happily, throwing back your blonde hair, and showing off your perfect square gold teeth.
You moved to where the impatient trio waited, pulled out a chair, and passed your green leather across the table.
Pale hands went through the embellished cards neatly stacked in chronological order. Accompanied by sighs and eyebrows lifted in disbelief, it was passed on to the older man .
He winked at you; you winked back with a conspiratorial smile.
"Impressive accomplishments, a talented family indeed." he added with a smug look. "King Midas?" barely with holding a snuffle.
"That would have been my great-great-great grandfather. Tricking him to touch his favourite daughter was so devious." 
The snarl turned into a smirk.
"Explain Julius Caesar." the soon to be single man.
"That would have been the sister, talented duo. As Cleopatra's bosom friend, she taught her all the womanly viles."
"Who is Silas Marner?" 
"Oh...that would be my morai...can I tell a secret?"
Wizened eyes sparkled, "She never told us."
You looked at your uncle with a warningly, "She was in love with him, Espie foiled her plans."
"Dubai shopping festival? 
"That would be Patrick, he loves his gold even the black one."
"What do you bring on board?"
"The Federal Reserve vaults. Three bars for every three plus three we give them."
A few minutes of hushed conversation,
"Let's inform the President of our newest portfolio manag..."
The secretary interrupted with an "It’s Lucifer on line..."
"Tell him, the 'Leprechaun Gold Inc' are greed investors not soul collectors."

wc 400

foiled

She giggled...Neeta struggled to keep a straight face lest they draw attention to themselves.
Zack frowned, his irritation increasing with every passing minute. He could barely wait for the demo session to end.
Cathy, awaiting her turn, tried to catch their attention, her efforts only drawing puzzled looks from the twins seated behind them.
"Is something wrong with your eyes?" one asked 
When she didn’t respond “Trying to seduce my little brother, are we?"
'Little?' sizing up the boy who needed an entire bench to stretch his never ending limbs.
"That must be understatement of the century" with a quiet chuckle.
"Shut up jokers!" the other one hissed,
"I'll turn you both into bats if I get pulled up this time."
They glared at him, about to resort when she giggled again.
Zack got up in a huff only to freeze in place. Her warm hands pulling him back never failed to elicit the familiar response. Small, almost black eyes reprimanded him for breaking their contact abruptly.
Master had ignored them for a time, but was now forced to acknowledge the distraction from the eastern end of the chamber. He was aware of every thought, hushed whispers or otherwise. Faced with no other viable option,quashing the rumours that questioned his authority was a priority. The first step towards the goal demanded that they be punished.
Pity, the girls were his best friend's nieces. Reluctantly, he called the three of them over.
Zack wasn't sure he could keep himself from casting the 'bent back' hex on the girls, seeing their calm, detached expressions. He didn't want to, not her anyway. He was pleasantly surprised when Master handed them the after session chores.
Planting seeds, magical ones at that was boring but not hard.
The sulking part of him did not share in his relief. This is not we had planned. The reminder was dampener on his spirits. He had volunteered to be the telepathic medium for the girls with an ulterior motive...a desperate need to find a clue, a confirmation of her interest in him. And here they were, digging up the soil with dancing hands, where he could have been plotting his next move with the guys. He didn't find his love for the 'flying ducks' night suit funny, she obviously did.

383 cwc need 121 words more

My hidden view


The rod barely missed my shoulder. We stood still like the dead rocks scattered on the grounds below. I sense much hatred and anger, through the constricting alcove, suffocating me. I long for the fresh, pure air of our homeland.
Fiaz’, wonder what they have in store for him?
 ‘A true warrior never denies his adversaries a chance at peace,’ he often said. Despite the respect and admiration we bestow, I don’t quite agree with him.
Some are not meant to be forgiven, those that have betrayed him to this dungeon. Our minds may be powerful, but our bodies no match for these vampire guards.
Eliza tugs at my arms, signaling our need to leave. My leaden feet refuse to cross the distance that takes us away from my brother and friends held hostage in the stinking chamber. The spiked chair to the right makes the devious intentions obvious. ‘Stand together but live to fight another day.’ If only, he hadn’t made us swear the blood oath before the journey commenced, I would be sharing the iron chains that bound them or dead by his feet.
The screams were unnerving, voices from the inner cell assaulting us. Inhuman moans, the incessant muttering of the slowly drained. One look at her and I knew, we would have to sneak out soon. For a novice mage, she was holding up well, but it wouldn’t be long before she lost control. The spell weakens, even as I touch her shoulder, careful not to betray my fears as our eyes meet.
The Ghals’s magic is simpler and limited. They can’t sense the invisibility shield. It protects and keeps our presence secret as we seek the point of entry. We had hardly walked a few paces when an agonised scream pierced through our tense thoughts.
My blood runs cold, her eyes water. Now, it’s me who pulls her along. We need reinforcements, and fast, lest our men end up as the next meal.


Wc 328

The Dance - New beginnings


"Dya*, hurry. They are coming." I panted through the half open door. My ribs ached with every short breath taken.  
Had never run so fast, doing 5 miles without a pause. The silence from within caused strange sensations in my stomach. The hinges creaked in annoyance as I pushed the obstruction away. The room was in disarray, everything upturned. From the centre of the hall I could see that none of the adjoining areas had been spared. There were wet, muddy shoe and foot prints overlapping as though jostling for valuable space. Three clear sets led me to the bottom of the stairs, to the bedrooms above. I crept up slowly unsure of what lay in wait, the pocket knife transferred from the back pocket to my trembling hands.  
I wouldn't wish the scene before my eyes on Stefanek, the village bully. The four bodies lay in crumbled and heaped postures, unsuccessful in fending off the killers, now gone. I vomited my morning meal on the dirtied carpet under my feet. A low moan from the nearest figure brought to life my fledging courage. Wiping away the hot, furious tears I stumbled forward, she was breathing still. The book was safely hidden for now. I covered the shredded remains of her dress with a blanket, lifted her as tenderly as I could in my arms and fled through the back door.

***
I have been standing for more than an hour on the hillock watching with tired eyes and limbs, the devastation below. Half glad Aishe* wasn't with me, conjured a mental image of the agonised screams of the dying. Her kind heart would have never permitted this. The other half of me was willing to give up the world to see her awake and smiling. The swirling, blackish grey waters mirrored the stain on my soul. Large carcasses of their livestock and pieces of wood, the remnants of their mighty houses and boats floated idly along. Pity, a couple of young trees had to give way.
The flood waters would take at least a week to recede, competently destroying whatever stood in their way including the fresh harvest.
This had been the most exhilarating dance I have ever attempted. The river, my companion and slave mimicked my movements as she spread over the accursed village. I played the Kristora* sparing the villages that didn't harm us. The memories gushed back, uninvited. My father's pleas of innocence falling on deaf, hateful ears. His last words before they staked him. "Make them pay."
They stole our land, our home, murdered my mother, and violated the older sister beyond human endurance. She sleeps the sleep of the living dead. 
A tiny hand tugs at my shirt sleeve, whining, “Let's go. It’s cold here."
I pull him into the warmth of my arms reluctantly, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins screaming 'Enemy'. We control the elements, a gift passed from mother to her daughters and first born son. Grandma refused to let him die, so he lives to see the death of his unknown fathers with his eyes. My father had been the youngest of six, as powerless as the ones who accused him of black magic.
I stood silent for a few minutes more before trudging back to the trees, the tall pines already casting their needles on the floor.
Harman* loves the rustling sounds around. He turns back and forth in jerky movements causing my shoulders to ache some more. The clan believes that the winter winds are less harsh since his birth. We live deep in the forest. The ignorant folks in the valley below think it is enchanted and evil and refuse to enter. Sometimes, blind faith can be a blessing. We planted the stories.
The ancient book says that our ancestors came from the East, from the land of seven rivers. One day, we will journey back, beyond the narrow confines of our adopted homeland. Harman and me.
We live in tents now, easier to assemble and dismantle in times of danger. Grandma is waiting by ours with a scowling face. She knows, always does. 
"Where have you been wandering about at this hour?"
"Nowhere. Just attending to some unfinished business." as he jumps out of my hold and scampers off to the dinner fires.

Wc 718


*Dya - Mother, Kristora - the judges.
* The words used are Romani - the language of the Romas, the gypsies of Europe whose ancestors are said to have migrated  from northern and central India around 1000 years ago.
Linguistic and genetic studies prove with reasonable accuracy that they belong to existing Indian tribes of travelling musicians.
* I wanted to give the dancing aspect a magical touch.

Destiny foretold


Amir fidgeted.
The dwelling talks disturbed him, increasing with Sagina’s worried looks.
He was loath to leave their only home, the world outside baffled his simple mind.
‘Did he have a choice? He had sworn to the tree spirits to protect his sisters with his life.’
‘Go check on her. Keep your tongue coiled.”
Sagina frowned; silent words betrayed her open mouth. She was a Bora woman, never speaking their minds.
He was ashamed of the leaders, all save his father.
She had been a barter of risk for the expensive, useful gifts her father sent every full moon. Two such moons had passed. The gifts didn’t arrive nor word from the river clan. They debated sending her back or selling her off to another tribe.
 He unsheathed his new scimitar, slicing it through invisible enemies. They hadn’t made much headway with her lessons. Mastering the letters had seemed fair exchange for self defense techniques, sadly turning out as one way assimilation.
The sounds of running feet had him colliding with his sister and servant as he lifted the flap.
“Can’t find her anywhere…she’s gone.’
“Get a grip, search thoroughly.”
“No one's seen her at the breakfast langar, master.”
“Must be with the children.”
“Hasn’t visited them in the last three days.”
“Ready my horse. I leave immediately.”
“Where to?”
“The forest, she wanders into.”
“Pack our bags before we return, a long journey awaits us.”
“And mine, brother?”
“No, your place is here.”
The lonely figure trudged its way into the forest. The footfalls unwittingly leaving a trail behind. She had been abandoned twice. The memories of her biological family a blip, that of her foster home painfully fresh.
An orphan's life would have been better.’
The overhead words rebounded among the strange looking trees.
‘Was it true? It’s obvious; I am no tribeswoman but a clan member…’
Her curiosity had her following impressionable Sagina last night. Suspecting a lover’s tryst, she had chosen to gather proof Amir would need before he believed her. The soft, jingling steps ahead, falling on the gravel in front of the green columns of men’s tents intrigued and scared her.
 The poisonous sentences lent weight to her recurrent doubts. Her world turned on itself.
Born to the clan whose magic resided in the names of the children, the one written in the runes cast, made her dangerous. Her father and the seer had tried in vain to protect her secret. A betraying uncle, three raids on the outpost had the council scurrying to get rid of the abomination.
She was sent off to live as a six year old with the Boras, the warrior tribe that lived on the fringes of the old forest. They treated her better than their women. She had a tutor.
‘Must have been the gifts.’
The Boras never ventured into the forest, beyond defined limits. The tree spirits they worshipped lived deep inside. The feared Maitri, the mages of the wild made it their abode.
She began to catch the change in landscape; scarred, broken trees like her spirit filled her vision. Seductive voices whispered and pulled her to the clearing. Before her was a stone dwelling with three chairs in stone carved with human bones, a red stool near one.
“Turn back child.” a voice warned.
“Fear not, little one. Join us, embrace your destiny.” crooned one of the earlier ones.
She stood still, while the voices battled until one was silenced forever.
Amir galloping fast, reached, only to watch in horror as ghostly, gnarled hands nudged her forward.
“Stop, come with me.”
“Leave now; the Boras will live to see another day.”
“Not without her.”
 He rushed forward, to be thrown back by the magical barriers.
“Kali, listen to me. They are dangerous, they are the Maitri.”
She turned around, awakening from a dream. Stared at the grey figures, then at him. Sad eyes appealed to him.
“Go, brother, before they hurt you.”
“Before I truly become – Kali the destroyer.”
 He inched forward, unheeding, hacking at the invisible walls. Only to find; an empty square and earth scorched to the darkest black.
‘He wouldn’t rest. Would search the ends of the world till he found her.’
The clan would be the first stop. Despite his contempt, he needed them.
April 14, 2012

Waiting for Some Inter Dimensional Romance - A Book Review


The Waiting Booth - Brinda Berry
Publishers Etopia Press  
Genre - Speculative Fiction - Fantasy/Paranormal/  Young Adult - Romance
Ebook - 186 pages, Price $ 5.99
Available at Amazon Kindle Store


Blurb:


Mia has one goal for her senior year at Whispering Woods High--find her missing older brother. But when her science project reveals a portal into another dimension, she learns that travelers are moving in and out of her woods in the most alarming way and government agents Regulus and Arizona are policing their immigration. Mia’s drawn to the mysterious, aloof Regulus, but it’s no time for a crush. She needs to find out what they know about her brother, while the agents fight to save the world from viral contamination. But when Regulus reveals that he knows Mia’s secrets, she begins to wonder if there’s more going on than she thought...and if she was wrong to trust him...


This is a debut novel by the author Brinda Berry in the young adult – fantasy category. The protoganist Mia has a neurological condition, synaesthesia where the mixing of the senses enables her to see colors within sounds, smells, and words. 
The story begin in a calm, everyday manner with high schooler Mia’s interaction with a busy but protective father, musings over her missing elder brother Pete and her science project in the woods adjoining their rather secluded home. Austin and Em are Mia's best friends, though Austin would like to trade the friend tag for something more, something Mia can’t see him as.
It is the chance photographing of seemingly shady characters Regulus and Arizona that hurtles her into a far secretive, deceptive and at times dangerous world beyond the ordinary. She is literally pushed into the other dimension in her part of the woods with Regulus and Arizona turning out to be “enforcers” with an inter-dimensional monitoring agency IIA.
Their apparent knowledge of her brother and their story makes them trustworthy but a series of incidents and interactions with her project mentor threatens to change everything to a point where she doesn't know whom to trust.
The primary characters, Mia and Regulus are strong and vulnerable in their own way. Their romance is slow given their initial and subsequent meetings and picks up in a subtle manner as the story unfolds .
The secondary ones like Arizona and Austin whom we may see more of in the later books,  shine through with humour and risk taking loyalty respectively.
The concept of portals which I expected to reveal an alien world but unveils a totally different one was a great move by the author. The act of betrayal at the end is again unexpected though the way the scenes are incorporated left me with an unsettled feeling as a reader. Maybe, the next book will expand on it and make it clearer.
There are sweet romantic moments towards the end which fall in the sweet category of romance rating - Sweet -> Hot -> Spicy.
I give this a 4.2 rating. 
Overall I enjoyed the book and would recommend it to lovers of YA fantasy that is not based on magic.


I received a copy for review through the group Knights of the Round Table on Goodreads. 


Personal Disclaimer: Though this book was a free copy received for the purpose of review, the post in entirety is my basic impression after reading the book. It is not based on intervention by the author, publishing house or the book forum.
March 27, 2012

The Dance - New Beginnings


 This piece is for the blogfest at Unicornbell.

"Dya*, hurry. They are coming." I panted through the half open door. My ribs ached with every short breath taken.
Had never run so fast, doing 5 miles without a pause. The silence from within caused strange sensations in my stomach. The hinges creaked in annoyance as I pushed the obstruction away. The room was in disarray, everything upturned. From the centre of the hall I could see that none of the adjoining areas had been spared. There were wet, muddy shoe and foot prints overlapping as though jostling for valuable space.Three clear sets led me to the bottom of the stairs, to the bedrooms above. I crept up slowly unsure of what lay in wait, the Swiss knife transferred from the back pocket to my trembling hands.
I wouldn't wish the scene before my eyes on even Stefanek, the village bully. I vomited my morning meal on the dirtied carpet under my feet. A low moan from the nearest figure brought to life my fleeting courage. Wiping away the hot, furious tears I stumbled forward. She was still breathing. The book was safely hidden for now. I covered the shredded remains of her dress with a blanket, lifted her in my arms as tenderly as I could and fled through the back door.
***
I have been standing for more than an hour in the abandoned house on the hillock, watching with tired eyes and limbs the devastation below. Half glad Aishe* wasn't with me, conjured a mental image of the agonised screams of the dying. Her kind heart would have never permitted this. The other half willing to give up the world to see her awake and smiling. The swirling, blackish grey waters mirrored the stain on my soul. Large carcasses of their livestock and pieces of wood, the remnants of their mighty houses and boats floated idly along. Pity, a couple of young trees had to give way. The flood waters would take a week or more to recede, competently destroying whatever stood in their way including the fresh harvest.
This has been the most exhilarating dance I have ever attempted. The river, my companion and slave mimicked my movements as she spread over the accursed village. I played the Kristora* sparing the villages that didn't harm us. The memories gushed back, uninvited. My father's pleas of innocence falling on deaf, hateful ears. His last words before they staked him, "Make them pay."
They stole our land, our home, murdered my mother, violated the elder sister beyond human endurance. She sleeps the sleep of the living dead. 
A tiny hand tugs at my shirt sleeve, whining,  "Let's go. It's cold here."
I pull him into the warmth of my arms reluctantly, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins screaming 'Enemy'. Our clan control the elements, a gift passed from the mother to her first born. Grandma refused to let him die, so he lives to see the death of his unknown fathers with his eyes. My father had been the youngest of six, as powerless as the the ones who accused him of black magic.
I stood silently for a few minutes more before trudging back to the trees, the tall pines already casting their needles on the floor.
Harman* loves the rustling sounds around us. He turns back and forth in jerky movements causing my shoulders to ache some more.The clan believes that the winter winds are less harsh since his birth. We live deep in the forest. The ignorant folks in the valley below think it is enchanted and evil and refuse to enter. Sometimes, blind faith can be a blessing. We planted the stories for our survival.
The ancient book says that our ancestors came from the East, from the land of seven rivers. One day, we will journey back, beyond the narrow confines of our adopted homeland. Harman and me.
We live in tents now, easier to assemble and dismantle in times of danger. Grandma is waiting by ours with a scowling face. She knows, always does. 
"Where have you been wandering about at this hour?"
"Nowhere. Just attending to some unfinished business." as he jumps out of my hold and scampers off to the dinner fires.

Wc 703











*Dya - Mother, Kristora - the judges.
* The words used are Romani - the language of the Romas, the gypsies of Europe whose ancestors are said to have migrated  from northern and central India around 1000 years ago.
Linguistic and genetic studies prove with reasonable accuracy that they belong to existing Indian tribes of travelling musicians.
* I wanted to give the dancing aspect a magical touch.
January 22, 2012

Thrill Or Trick - Epilogue


I apologise to all my centusians and commenters for not responding last week.
 Not been well for a while, taking the blood test for the incessant cold and cough.
I should be able to get to regular blogging soon, don't miss me too much. ;D


For Saturday Centus at Jenny Matlock's blog...any genre, P.G as far as possible, not to exceed 150 words. Based on the literary device of a cliffhanger...this is the epilogue of the story that concludes the last two weeks' posts of cliffhanger and  resolution respectively.. Check the others afterwords there.


Ali and Simi trudged up the slope... the others would have gathered on the top by now.
Ali looked at the plains in grim silence.
 Simi walked quietly beside, the ideal travel and sparring partner to her twin, though she was hard pressed as to why he didn't fly the carpet.
Reading his thoughts, “ This journey is as much for her as Shammi Uncle, isn’t it?”
He looked at her for a moment and responded, “ I promised to protect her and failed.”
“You saved her life…the healer says that her soul is lost in the void, not left her body yet.”
Ali smiled,a first in many months.
There were many sad eyed, happy faces that stared back at them.
“How is Ria?” asked T.C as a small group approached them.
“ The same since you  last visited.”
“Come children, change into your robes, the memorial chants begin shortly.”

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