This is my blog. My own space to write. I’ve been long since jumping from one social media to another to vent my opinions, emotions. Now it’s time to go for the kill.
I just got killed last month. By a woman, I am ashamed to say. But my killer exists, raves and rants in her world, very happy that she killed me. She killed me and splattered her own self with my blood. She danced in the discharge that sucked my soul away. She was very happy.
But could she kill the reason why she killed me? I don’t think so. The reason still exists, living with her, sleeping with her. breathing down her neck. My ghost will always haunt her. That is her pay-back.
I know I am sounding rather dramatic and morbid in this one. But fact is that, this blog is about life and laughter. When life squishes you, you turn morbid, and when life squashes you completely, you turn it into laughter.
Nevertheless, my murderer left and suddenly the “likes” on my fan page went up; them writing to me beautiful notes praising my work. I don’t know if they’re related, but I am surprised at the way Karma takes an effect. Which is why I want to thank you guys for your timing.
I am not just a journalist. I remind myself when such a grim-reaper arrives at the horizon, that I am a legacy-setter. Citrus and FinalDraft are my legacies. The institutions which I have worked for (Hindustan Times, The Telegraph (ABP) and now South Asian News, Canada) gave me the courage and expertise to launch these two potential gems in the market which you all must be familiar with by now.
My three novels are my babies: Neil Must Die, Whiff of Tempest and Titir and Other Tales. Mon Amour… Sesher Kabita Revisited has become so big that strangers I have never heard of perform Mon Amour on stage and they don’t really know it’s my story! It’s like the creation has become greater than the creator!
I am proud! I am very proud that my novel Neil Must Die is being Torrented!! And you should see the kind of reviews written about it on Goodreads and debates on other sites.
Why am I speaking of myself so much? Yes. It’s because a part of me was killed that day by a sniper. And my existence was shaken. I am just trying to reinstate my existence.
And I must not miss out this time (I always wanted to keep this away from the limelight), that I have resumed my Kathak dancing, which I was an exponent even before I became a journalist or an author. I was dancing from the age of 2 till I got pregnant at 27, I gave a number of stage performances. got standing ovations and won a Gold medal.
Now there’s even an opportunity for me to branch into stage acting, which has always been my passion. I am exploring, albeit keeping that injury oozing with blood.
Why am I saying all this again? Just to keep a legacy behind me. Just to rebuild my confidence. Just to say that I, being a writer, a hard-core journalist, a reporter, a creative person, with a fantastic family behind me, living abroad with no dearth of happiness around me, with my parents and family in perfect health and happiness — I am maimed. I too get wounded. Wounded upon a wound that hasn’t healed over 30 years.
I never tried to prove anything to anyone, yet I am overwhelmed at the kind of support I get from fans and friends. Thank you so much. Your love fills my heart to the brim. though there is an injury in it which no one can heal.
All I am saying to myself is that however much strong I sound or look with my activities, there can be someone who can aim his/her knife and stab me at the right place. I am vulnerable to that attack. And I am writing this at 3 am (morning, dawn, whatever) which is why I don’t think I need to correct this at all.
I’ll keep creating and bringing to you reflections of your own self which may fill your heart. When it gets filled, spill out your words and let me know. I answer to every message. Write to me at here.