Publish with Us

Follow Penguin

Follow Penguinsters

Follow Penguin Swadesh

© 2020 Penguin India

Category: Excerpts

The New Power Map: How Technology is Redrawing Global Governance.​

Posted on by bhavika

Read an exclusive excerpt from GeoTechnoGraphy on how Technology s redrawing global governance.

Front Cover GeoTechnoGraphy
GeoTechnoGraphy || Samir Sarani, Anirban Sarma

 

So, I sort of thought I lost, and I was OK with that,’ said Donald Trump, describing the final days of the 2016 presidential election to a crowd in Wisconsin. A series of phoney exit poll results had been communicated to the Trump family, decimating all hope of a victory. But soon the real numbers started streaming  in. ‘And then it happened, folks, out of nowhere. Boy, that map was getting red as hell. That map – that map was bleeding red.’ What led to Trump’s improbable win? His victory was influenced by a host of factors. The recovery from the 2008 financial crisis had left many behind. The United States was growing economically, but wages had stagnated for the American working class, and jobs in traditional industries were dwindling. Trump’s promises to bring back manufacturing jobs and renegotiate trade deals resonated with vast swathes of voters in the Rust Belt states. He appealed to the anger of the white working class, and their fears of marginalization and of losing conventional privileges. Across rural and small-town America, voters long neglected by coastal elites and urban policymakers found themselves energized by the prospect of rural revitalization and the reversal of cultural change that Trump held out. Most of his arguments were anchored firmly in the day-to-day reality of people and the land they saw as theirs—immigration was framed as a threat to American jobs and security; gun rights were upheld as a means to personal protection; and the roll-back of environmental regulations was pitched as a route to business growth and wealth creation. What also grabbed the popular imagination was Trump’s blunt and unconventional rhetoric, the like of which hadn’t been heard before. He was every inch the political outsider and revelled in his image as a disruptor of the Washington establishment. His lack of political experience was seen as a plus by voters frustrated with polished career politicians and the status quo they represented.

 

 

These attributes fed into Trump’s masterful manipulation of the media, and his use of social media platforms. Trump was a media sensation, with irresistibly contentious statements
and controversial behaviour that led him to dominate the news cycle and keep him in the spotlight. Much of what he said was discredited as lies, empty spectacle, conspiracy theories, browbeating and gaslighting, but the nation was riveted. Trump dominated social media too, commanding the attention of a broad public which included the mainstream media’s digital platforms. Big-seed marketing was one of several strategies he deployed online—a phenomenon which involves seeding messages among many people, as opposed to the viral approach which depends on a few influencers to spread a message to many others. With over nineteen million Twitter followers, eighteen million Facebook fans, and close to five million Instagram followers right before Election Day, Trump had the perfect seedbed. Every message he released reached each of these followers, who then shared them with their networks, creating a cascade of unprecedented scale. The content itself was usually provocative and attention-grabbing. But by using social media to address his audience directly as individuals, tweeting his thoughts on just about everything spontaneously, in an exceptionally unfiltered and no-holds-barred manner, the authenticity and influence he achieved were extraordinary.

 

 

In the final analysis though, it was Trump’s understanding of the popular pulse on the ground that carried the day. He tapped into the bitterness, rage and dispiritedness of Americans who believed their concerns had been ignored by the political class. But had his campaign not linked people to place, would he have won?

 

 

  ***

 

Get your copy of GeoTechnoGraphy on Amazon or wherever books are sold.

 

Brick by Brick: An Unfiltered Blueprint for Aspiring Entrepreneurs to Dream, Act, and Succeed

Posted on by bhavika

Read an exclusive excerpt from Brick by Brick and discover the journey from middle-class hustle to entrepreneurial success.

 

Front Cover Brick By Brick
Brick By Brick || Manish Vij

 

 

Aaj bhi truck jana hai, sir? (Will the truck go today as well, sir?)’  I was asked by the Public Call Office (PCO) booth operator, a young enthusiastic chap, who was about my age. That he was  

happy to encounter a high-value customer was evident in his smile. This wasn’t the first time that he had tried to strike up a conversation with me. On other occasions, I would end up spending a few extra minutes responding to his many questions. Today, however, I barely had time to nod and get to the business at hand before rushing in to attend a Business Management class where the professor was a stickler for punctuality.  

 

I had started flexing my entrepreneurial muscle from a rather unusual workspace. A PCO booth—those yellow kiosks that had at one time ushered in a communication revolution in the country—was the seat of my early entrepreneurial journey. Come to think of it, today’s generation may not have even heard of their existence, let alone seen them stand on street corners, not when everyone carries a phone in their pocket, anyway. I had only recently been packed off to the city of Indore from Delhi, which had been my family’s home for decades. I was to pursue a course in business management at a time when business education was just making an appearance on the scene. These were times when every student worth his salt aspired for a seat at the prestigious Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) or a good medical college. An average student, I had also given  the entrance exam a shot (and failed at it) as a rite of passage.  

 

Fortunately for me, my parents were far-sighted enough to see that it was time for me to cut my losses and try my hand at something different. When it came to my father’s notice that his friend, Mr. Khandelia, who was working as the CEO of a large spinning mill, was sending his son, Ashish, a bright student, to Indore for a course in business management, he decided that I should follow suit. It was on the Malwa Express enroute to the International Institute of Professional Studies at the Devi Ahilya University in Indore that I first met Ashish who was to be my partner in crime for the next few years. We were to be picked up at Dewas station by Ashish’s uncle, Ashok Chacha. While I was a bit nervous, stepping out of home for the first time, I soon realized that my fears were unfounded. Ashok Chacha, a textile mill owner in Dewas, and his wife, Kanta Chachi, welcomed me with open arms and over a period of time, became my extended family. 

 

Yarn Trading 

‘Ek business opportunity hai; tere paas time hai karne ke liye (There is a business opportunity; do you have time to pursue it)?’ This question from my father, on our weekly long-distance call from Indore, had sparked an old hustling muscle in me. A textile engineer by profession, my father had spent his entire working life in the textile industry. He had harboured entrepreneurial ambitions at a time when entrepreneurship wasn’t as cool and shiny as it is today. His early attempts to put up a yarn spinning plant had caused him to lose a lot of money but hadn’t prevented him from continuing to hone an entrepreneurial mindset. Driven by his fervour, I had also spent a large part of my school vacations accompanying him as he visited various textile plants. My early interest in the industry had even led me to undertake summer training in a textile factory in Sangrur, Punjab, at a time when summer internships weren’t as regimented as they are now.  

My old interest in entrepreneurship was reignited. Within minutes of my father posing the question, I found myself ready to turn into an entrepreneur from the very PCO booth from which I had made a call to him. It turned out that my father was friends with someone who ran a spinning mill in Nepal, a man who was keen to export yarn to India. He also happened to know a few potential buyers in Ludhiana who were keen to buy their goods. All that was needed was someone who could reliably liaison between the two parties. A few statistics from my father and I had already made a quick calculation that I could stand to make as much as Rs 8000 for every truckload that made its way from Nepal to Ludhiana. 

 

  ***

 

Get your copy of Brick By Brick on Amazon or wherever books are sold.

 

The Disruption Playbook: How Startups are Breaking Rules and Rewriting Success

Posted on by bhavika

Read an exclusive excerpt on how startups are breaking rules and rewriting success!

Front Cover Mastering Disruption
Mastering Disruption || K.Ganesh

 

As per popular legend, in 1997, Reed Hastings, a software entrepreneur, was fined $40 at his local video store for returning the DVD of the movie Apollo 13 late. This unpleasant experience got him thinking: there has to be a better business model for video rentals. He started Netflix, a DVD-by-mail service with no late fees, which was later transformed into a subscription-based online streaming service. Today, Netflix is a global behemoth in the entertainment industry, all thanks to a business model that was born out of a sense of personal frustration. In India, a man named Arunachalam Muruganantham embarked on a mission to produce affordable sanitary pads for the women in his village. His business model was built around empowering rural women, not just by providing access to affordable sanitary products but also by offering them an opportunity to earn a living. His company, Jayaashree Industries, supplied semi-automatic machines to women-led self-help groups who produced and sold the pads, turning a societal challenge into an entrepreneurial opportunity. This model has been hailed as a breakthrough in socially conscious business innovation.

At the dawn of the twentieth century, the Ford Motor Company revolutionized the automobile industry not just through the invention of the assembly line but also through an innovative business model. Henry Ford’s vision of making a car for the great multitude required a drastic reduction in prices, which led to the development of a business model based on cost efficiencies and economies of scale. This story serves as a classic example of how business model innovation can drive growth and disrupt industries. All these examples show that business models are not static; they are dynamic and change with time. They are not set in stone; they need to evolve with changing market conditions and customer needs. Did you know that each year, more than half of the Fortune 500 companies have to innovate their business models to stay on the list? A business model that worked in the past might not be successful in the future, and companies that fail to innovate their business models risk being left behind.

 

Business Model

So, what is a business model? In simple terms, it is a conceptual structure that supports the viability of a business and explains how it operates and makes money, and how it intends to achieve its goals. More importantly, a business model encapsulates the value proposition for customers—that unique cocktail of products, services and experiences that make a business stand out from the crowd. Imagine walking into a bustling marketplace filled with vendors, each trying to outshine the others, vying for your attention and your hard-earned money. Their strategies for enticing you differ significantly—one offers a subscription for a basket of fresh produce every week, another entices you with a bundle of complementary products at a discounted rate, a third proposes a franchise model to help you set up your own thriving business, and yet another offers the convenience of on-demand service, where you get what you want, when you want it. All of these are business models in action, strategically designed to create, deliver and capture value.

An Examination of Traditional

Business Models

We begin our exploration of business models by examining the conventional, time-honoured structures that have enabled businesses to create and capture value throughout history. Each model has its own distinctive strengths, weaknesses and unique elements, which need to be grasped for achieving business success. It’s worth noting that these models are not mutually exclusive and can often be interwoven and amalgamated.

Manufacturer Business Model:

This model involves the creation of products from raw materials or component parts by a company. The products can be sold directly to consumers, or through an intermediary. Example: Tata Motors exemplifies this model, designing and manufacturing an array of vehicles sold via their dealer network. Ford Motor Company represents this model on a global scale, selling its extensive range of vehicles through worldwide distribution channels.

Strengths and weaknesses: The manufacturing model offers control over production, quality and pricing. Higher volumes can lead to economies of scale, reducing costs and increasing profitability. However, high initial costs, continuous maintenance expenses and potential supply chain complexities can be challenges. The ability to change the established infrastructure to match evolving market dynamics and consumer preferences can also be a hurdle.

Savarkar: The Man, The Myth, The Controversy

Posted on by bhavika

Here’s an excerpt that captures the essence of Savarkar’s bold critique!

Front Cover The New Icon
The New Icon || Arun Shourie

The Uber-Mother

The fact is that having regarded the cow to be our mother, Savarkar wrote, over time she came to be accorded a status even higher than that of a mother.4 The milk of both is drinkable. But in the case of the cow, its panchgavya is imbibed . . . At least, first ascertain which are the ailments for which gaumootra aur gaumaya have been verified to be efficacious. . . We have heard that cow urine has medicinal qualities. But, bhai, he asked, what doesn’t? One’s own urine also has some medicinal qualities as gaumootra has .  .  . As one’s own urine also has medicinal qualities, should we keep imbibing our panchgavya on every religious occasion and for pure sanskaars (inborn traits), faculties? Brandy also is a medicine for kafkshayaadi vikaar. Should we, therefore, imbibe it during shraavandi also? Poison too is a medicine for some ailments. Use it for persons who have those ailments. One does not take it in the form of dharmic sanskaars (religious values). Shoot down such thoonth aur moorkhataapoorand sanskaars—this alone will bring lustre to our dharma and sanskriti . . .

When a person announced that it was because she partook of panchgavya that the mother of Lokmanya Tilak gave birth to a son as great as him, Savarkar mocked him and asked, why were not the other things she ate—flour, rice, vegetables, fruit, etc.—the cause? If cow’s dung and urine are actually useful in curing some ailment, Savarkar pointed out, so is the urine of a horse, the milk of a she-donkey, the vishthtaa of a hen. If they cure certain ailments, then let those suffering from those ailments consume them, just as medicines are taken by individuals afflicted with the specific conditions those medicines treat. But do the droppings of the hen cure snakebite? If not, then would you eat them if bitten by a snake? If cow dung is fertiliser, then spread it in the field. Why put it into your stomach? Dead rats are excellent manure for roses. Does that mean that we should take them up to our noses and smell their odour? In any case, even if the panchgavya is useful as a medicine, how does drinking cow urine become a punya? Savarkar asked. By cleansing our soul? The truth, Savarkar said, is that the innocence which has led to making a goddess of an ordinary animal, the same innocent religiosity has led people to take its defecating outside their door as auspicious, to regard brushing its tail over our eyes as beneficial, to consider praying to it as religion, and, in the end, crossing the limits of madness, to consider its urine and dung as sacred and pavitra (pure), to believe that eating or drinking it cleanses our soul, destroys our sins, and constitutes punya in this as well as the next world—innocence has reached a peak. After all, where does the notion that the cow and everything emanating from it is sacred and purifying come from, where does it lead? The cow which, standing in the cowshed, chews on grass and chaaraa (fodder), the one which, even as she is eating, urinates and defecates, upon getting tired while masticating sits down in the same mix of urine and excreta, the one who with its tail tosses on itself the filth lying on the ground, the one who, the moment the rope breaks, runs and puts its mouth in garbage, Savarkar observes, touching the tail of that animal the Brahmin, decked in clean and spotless clothes and shielding his own purity, mixes that animal’s excreta and urine in a silver vessel and drinks it and believes that his life has become pure. Is it right to believe this? There is the further belief that the purity, which is tarnished by even the shadow of such a learned person as Dr Ambedkar, which is destroyed by sitting in the same line for food with a saint such as Tukaram, becomes even purer by touching the tail drenched in the urine and excreta of that cow which is eating all sorts of things in the cowshed, and its excreta and urine purifies everything . . . Can there be a better example of how the intelligence of a man is killed? In response to the accusation that he was denigrating our revered sanskriti, Savarkar retorted that if anything is defaming our great Hindu sanskriti, it is the naive tradition of eating cow dung and drinking cow urine. If our sanatani brothers do not want our tradition to be a subject of derision, then they should bring about an end to this book-based foolishness or pothinishtha moorkhataa. They should not prohibit our writings through which we have drawn the attention of our people towards that foolishness.

Finding Your Anchor Within: Escaping the Assumption Trap

Posted on by bhavika

Too often, our minds trap us in past experiences, shaping how we perceive the present. This excerpt from Anchor Withinexplores how finding inner stability can help break free from the assumption trap and see reality as it truly is.

Front Cover Anchor Within
Anchor Within || Leena Gupta

 

 

When we cannot tame our restless mind, it can spin us out of reality and into the assumption trap, where we may perceive our situations through the lenses of past experiences of hurt and prior conditioning and biases. When we go through an uncomfortable situation, our mind replays episodes where we had similar experiences

and feelings. When our mind senses danger or something unfamiliar, it aims to protect us by clinging to what seems known, safe and recognizable. Stuck and wrapped up in our stories from the past, we lose our ability to see things clearly and as they are. The danger is that this may distort reality by making us superimpose our past impressions on to the present moment. We may react impulsively based on past patterns instead of responding mindfully, jeopardizing our relationships

and sabotaging possible opportunities.

For example, it is fascinating to see how different personality types from my extended family and friends make assumptions based on their mental wiring and conditioning. In the family reunion I describe below, each person I mention gets stuck in the assumption trap based on their personality type and has their own perception of reality. We can see how their crafty mind, tries to seduce them to stay stuck and safe rather than face their reality. I have mentioned seven personality types in the family, but there are so many more that we encounter in our lives including, blamer, martyr, saviour, people-pleaser, narcissist, gas lighter and defender.

If there were ever a perfect family reunion, then this was it. Uncle Sammy was in his element as he bowed, removed an imaginary top hat and said, ‘We’ve been waiting so long for this reunion. Let’s get this party started!’ We were at my Aunt Ayesha’s home in Cresskill, a posh locality in New Jersey where each custom-built house features a manicured garden. In no time, we were all jiving to the retro Bollywood music of the 1970s and 1980s, while catching up on our lives in her regal living room. I noticed how she had decorated the whole house with fragrant, exotic floral arrangements and scented candles to soothe our senses. ‘OMG, Aunty Ayesha! What a lovely ambiance you have created! I can feel the love you’ve put into all the details to make this an event to remember,’ I said.

Her courteous, uniformed staff served us beautifully crafted, savoury hors d’oeuvres. My aunt had planned a delicious menu for us with all of our favourite dishes. We could not have imagined a more comfortable and happy setting to be in. Soon, everyone eased up and dropped the formalities with which they had arrived. After several rounds of appetizers, lots of banter and swaying to Bollywood tunes, we sauntered to the long, perfectly decorated twenty-seater dining table. The fun and jokes started, and at one point, my usually meticulous father spilled the yellow masala curry all over his side of the table, unable to contain himself with laughter.

Everyone seemed to be high on life, and everything seemed perfectly orchestrated that evening. However, around 2 a.m., the laughter started to wane as infectious yawns began creeping into the room. My nineteen-year-old cousin Aryan started snoring on the sofa, unknowingly signalling to us that the party was over. Happily picking up their paraphernalia, each guest got up to begin the process of saying goodbye.

It took a while. It was a curious process, with conversations shifting to the next goalpost: the main door. Oddly, the chatter continued, and everyone merely inched in the direction of the main door. Eventually, most of us made our way out, but as soon as Dad stepped out, we heard an abrupt and very loud bang of the door. It was the kind of sound that sends shivers up your spine and freezes your whole being. We were stunned.  Nobody moved. Everyone seemed to be playing the game statue! Startled and motionless, everyone stared at each other. I could see from their expressions that they all had a story starting to spin in their heads. It was not pretty.

***

 

Get your copy of Anchor Within by Leena Gupta on Amazon or anywhere books are sold.

Investing Myths That Could Cost You Big—What You Need to Know

Posted on by bhavika

Getting the basics right: The four thumb rules for your financial health.

Let us start at the very beginning . . . a very good place to start – as the song goes. Let us start with a broad, top-down look at your investments.

What do you think of when you think of the term ‘investments’?

Most people think of investments in the stock market, mutual funds, etc. But what about the Public Provident Fund (PPF) you bought for tax-saving? The bank fixed deposits? The plot of land you bought or inherited? The apartment you are waiting to get possession of? Each of these is an investment. All of them have to be considered to get an overall picture of your finances before you decide on what you want your financial future to look like.

Plus, as is known, during the course of your investing journey, you have no option but to live through bull markets and bear markets, at times ferocious ones. How do you ensure that your financial investments get a clean bill of health and not end up in the ICU?

What are the basic tenets to keep in mind while investing?

To my mind, they are four in number, and these make up the framework with which you need to view your investments. Of course, there are overlaps between the four.

Each of these concepts will be dealt with in more detail later in the book. The following descriptions of these only provide

you a starting framework.

 

Lesson 1: Asset allocation sahi hai

Asset allocation is not just the best thing, it’s the only thing.

If you are just going to be a single-asset (say, equity only) player, then you are not going to last very long in this game.

Sometime back, I got a question on social media asking me, ‘I am a young person in a good job – so should I have 100 per

cent investment in equities?’ And my answer was no, because there are all kinds of demands that may come on your finances: you may lose your job, you may have a family emergency, you may want to buy a house, you may want to study further after a few years, and so on.

Basically, you may have unexpected financial demands in the future, which you may not be factoring in just now.

Equity returns have low predictability, not just on a one- or two-year basis, but sometimes even over a longer time frame. For example, during the entire decade from 2010 to 2020, Indian equity markets compounded at just about 8.5 per cent when fixed deposit rates were also around 8 per cent. So you saw a lot of volatility, with practically no additional return for taking equity risk at all, for a whole decade.

Asset allocation basically means your investment pie chart is strategically diversified across various available asset classes.

Why does asset allocation work? Because different assets give disparate returns at various points in time.

To give a recent example: In 2019, government treasury instruments in India were up 9.5 per cent. Gold prices rose 24.6 per cent. In contrast, the Nifty500 delivered a mere 7.7 per cent return.

But did you ever hear any fund manager or your financial adviser tell you that you were better off investing, or at least diversifying, into government paper and gold, instead of focusing on equities, if you wanted the best returns? I suspect not.

The reason for this is simple: nobody in the business of fund management or financial advice makes much or any money by recommending investments in government securities or gold. The maximum fees are for recommending equity.

All behaviour, good or bad, is always driven by incentives, and sellers of equities incentivize their salespeople far more than sellers of any other asset class, even if they do not deliver returns.

That is part of the reason for this ‘100 per cent in equity if you are young’ recommendations you often see.

Don’t ever forget this!

 

Lesson 2: Take a portfolio approach to investing

Most investors believe that taking individual stock advice, or ‘tips’ from friends, brokers, talking heads on TV, – that is, almost anyone – and then implementing them on their own is the way to making big money.

Wrong. This is a one-way ticket to financial ruin. The correct way to do it is to take a portfolio approach to determine your asset and equity selection.

One part of this is, of course, asset allocation, which is discussed in more detail later in the book.

But even within your equity portfolio, be mindful of the weightage of each of your stocks and each sector. For every stock you buy, be absolutely clear how about the allocation for that stock and how much it changes the weightage of its industry in your portfolio, and how it alters the risk profile of your equity pie.

***

 

Get your copy of Money, Myths and Mantras by Devina Mehra on Amazon or anywhere books are sold.

Is It Necessary to Leave Your Job to Ace the CAT Exam?

Posted on by bhavika

Should I Quit My Job to Prepare for the CAT?

This is one of the questions that I am asked most often, if not the most asked question! The question is also most likely to come from aspirants whose first or past attempts did not go well and who are thus looking to mount a serious retake attempt. You might also have these questions in your mind:

  • Is it wise to quit my job to prepare for the CAT?
  • Will quitting my job have a negative impact on my profile?
  • How can I prepare if I am working twelve hours a day, six days a week?

These are the questions that many aspirants ask themselves since there is a huge premium on acquiring a degree from a prestigious college and an MBA is for most the last big shot that they can take to get a big brand name on their resume. Some might have faced this situation before as well when they had set their eyes for the first time on getting two Is—the IITs.

There are other reasons as well, ranging from a mind-numbingly monotonous IT job to a horrible boss, to the existential dread: What will become of me and my life if I am stuck in my current situation forever?

For most of my colleagues, the answer to this question is a simple NO. Quitting your job is akin to committing professional hara-kiri. But I think, under certain circumstances, quitting your job might be the best option in front of you with the proviso that:

  • You quit at the right time, and
  • You do more than just prep for the CAT

How will quitting affect your profile in terms of getting into an IIM?

First, let us look at the quantitative effect of quitting your job on your chances of getting a shortlist.

There are colleges, such as IIM-B and others, that give a weightage to work experience in the shortlisting process. In such cases, you will lose out on valuable points and will hence have to score higher on the test to get the shortlist than if you had stuck on in your job. So yes, there is a clear quantitative effect.

If you have two or more years of work experience, as of July of the year you will take the CAT, and the rest of your profile—Class X, Class XII, grad marks—is good, you can, on average, score 0.5–0.75 percentile points lower than someone with no or low work experience. So, those with two years of work experience can get an IIM-B call at a 98.5 percentile whereas freshers have to score in excess of 99.4. But remember that this is only in the case of institutes that give a weightage to work experience.

Just like they have for academics, even for work experience points are awarded based on slabs— less than twelve months, twelve to twenty-four months, etc. IIM-B gives maximum points for work experience of thirty-six months and above. So, if you have more than thirty-six months you are not going to get any more marks than you will if you have exactly thirty-six months.

In effect, if you have thirty-six months’ work experience, quitting your job will not have any mathematical impact on your profile rating.

Will quitting affect your prospects during summer and final placements?

IIMs and other top schools slot candidates into two categories for placements—regular and lateral.

Lateral placements are for people with a certain amount of work experience for roles that are above entry-level management roles. What is that certain amount of work experience?

It differs from college to college. Some base it on the absolute number of months such as twenty- two—IIM-B, while others decide the exact number based on the average work experience in the batch—IIM-A. Either way, it usually falls into the twenty to twenty-four-month range. Also, it is important to note that for some domains and for some firms, work experience is a must-have and hence, recruiters look purely at lateral candidates. What are the domains where relevant work experience is a prerequisite?

Operations roles, for example, most definitely go to people who have experience in shop-floor, product design, logistics, supply chain management, etc. So, engineers working in operations will do well to finish working for two years before entertaining thoughts of quitting. The rationale is simple: an individual with an idea of any aspect of operations cannot be given a managerial role since the stakes are very high.

IT consulting roles, for example, again typically go to those with two-plus years of experience in software. Again, the rationale is the same—an individual who has not worked on large-scale IT projects cannot take up consulting roles in IT. There might be exceptions to this rule but by and large, the rule holds.

***

 

Get your copy of Bell the Cat by Tony Xavier on Amazon or anywhere books are sold.

Unraveling the Mystery: A Thrilling Excerpt from The Girl on Fire!

Posted on by bhavika

As danger looms and secrets unravel, IPS officer Simone Singh is thrust into a chilling investigation. Here’s a gripping excerpt from The Girl on Fire!

Front Cover The Girl on Fire
The Girl on Fire || Devashish Sardana

Eighteen years ago

Malana Village, Himachal Pradesh

Mama’s hands tremble as she unscrews the cap of the transparent bottle. Her lips quiver. She doesn’t look at me.

Her eyes, distant and hollow, are fixated on something unseen as the amber liquid cascades from the bottle, drenching my head, cold and sharp against my scalp. It smells like fear and memories—kerosene.

I’m tied to an old wooden chair in our backyard, dupatta knots biting into my wrists. I don’t ask why. The shackles seem fitting somehow, as the liquid traces a path down my face, lingering on my eyelashes before soaking the hand-sewn white frock I’m wearing. It’s embroidered with beautiful little pink petunias. Mama sewed it at home, each stitch a promise. Now, stained with kerosene, the promises bleed out.

‘Mama, you ruined the frock,’ I say, my voice shaky, tasting the fumes in my throat.

She hushes me with a stern glance. Her face is a mask, unreadable. Her eyes are glassy. It’s like she’s there, but she is not. She sees me, but she doesn’t. Mama sits down across from me, matchbox in hand, and for a moment, we are just reflections of each other—stilled, silent, waiting.

It’s my birthday today. I turned ten. Double digits!

There was supposed to be a cake and a Barbie doll—my first—dressed in traditional Himachali clothes that Papa said he’d pick up from Kullu. But it’s past ten, and he’s not back yet. He never is, not until the screams start.

Last night’s screams were louder than usual. Mama’s, not a stray dog’s like I hoped. Usually, I cower under the blanket when I hear the screams, but last night I had run out to the backyard to find her curled up in the mud, her knees pressed to her chest, yelping, while Papa thrashed her with a bamboo stick, again and again.

‘No!’ I screamed, without thinking. It just came out.

A mistake, I realized later. Papa saw me. He swivelled around, his eyes red, veins bulging, enraged. ‘Why aren’t you asleep, Aadya?’ he shouted and staggered towards me, drunk, the bamboo stick raised like a sword, ready to strike.

I froze. I should have run away. But I couldn’t. The stick cut through the air and came down on my arm, fire igniting along my skin, searing through muscle and bone. I can still feel it.

‘Not Aadya!’ yelled Mama, and she rushed to my rescue.

Papa shoved Mama away and called her haramzadi—

Mama told me later never to repeat that word. Papa threw away the bamboo stick, stumbled towards the makeshift shed in our backyard, picked up the iron rod used to stoke campfires and charged towards Mama . . . um, let’s stop. I don’t want to think about last night any more.

So now, it’s about the Barbie doll and waiting for Papa.

Waiting to start the birthday that Mama promised would be special. She said we’re going somewhere beautiful—a place full of laughter and toys. No more nights filled with screams. I almost believe her.

Then, she pours more kerosene, a line connecting my feet to hers. Her swollen, bruised eye twitches. Is she crying? She pours the kerosene over herself, soaking her shawl, her dress, her skin.

‘Aadya,’ her voice cracks, ‘I’m taking you to a happy place, beta. A place full of Barbie dolls and pink frocks and laughing clowns.’

I smile. I love clowns. ‘Papa isn’t coming with us to the happy place?’

Mama presses her lips together. ‘Do you . . . do you want Papa to come?’

I think for a while. I want Papa to come. All three of us.

Happy together. But it won’t remain a happy place if Papa comes with us, no? Then the happy place would become

this place—our house—with broken arms and shrieks, swollen eyes and cries. No, I don’t want Papa to come. I

meet Mama’s eyes and shake my head.

‘Good, good,’ she nods. ‘Remember, just a bit of pain, then . . . happiness.’

Pain? I’m confused. The bus to happiness shouldn’t hurt.

Mama picks up the matchbox. She takes a deep breath, her chest heaving.

She strikes a match.

The sound is tiny but monstrous in the still night. The flame flickers, a small harbinger of devastation. She’s done this before—told me never to play with matches near the kerosene stove. But here, now, the rules are rewritten in fire.

‘No, Mama, please.’ My voice is a whimper, lost in the crackle of the match.

She looks at me, really looks at me, and for a second, I see her. Not the broken fragments of a woman shaped by fists and fury, but my Mama.

‘I’m doing it for you, Aadya. I love you.’

‘Mama, stop. Please stop.’ I squirm and twist and squeal. Tears roll down my cheeks.

She drops the match.

The fire hisses, a hungry beast that claims her instantly.

***

 

Get your copy of The Girl on Fire by Devashish Sardana on Amazon or anywhere books are sold.

The Battle Ends, But the Questions Remain!

Posted on by bhavika

After a long and brutal war, the Pandavas stand victorious. But when Vyas Ji enters their canopy, his words force them to confront a question they never expected—was this truly a victory?

Read this gripping excerpt where triumph meets its toughest reckoning.

Front Cover The Lineage
The Lineage || Laksh Maheshwari, Ashish Kavi

 

The sentries led Vyas ji into the Pandavas’ canopy where the five brothers and their wife, Draupadi of Panchal, rose to welcome him. When Vyas ji stood before them, they joined their hands and bowed their heads together.  

‘Pranam, Maharishi,’ they said in unison.  

 

The brothers were all injured as multiple parts of their bodies were wrapped in bandages. Yudhishthir’s arm had turned blue after all the spears he had propelled. Bheem’s chest and face were bruised due to all the blows he had sustained from Suyodhan’s mace during their duel. Arjun’s hands were riddled with blisters from all the arrows he had launched in the war. Even Nakul and Sahdev looked weary from the effort of war. 

 

But the joy of victory Vyas ji saw on their faces was far greater than all their pains put together. It was was also visible on Panchali’s face and evident in the blood that drenched her long, flowing hair. This sight of joy and thrill greatly upset Vyas ji. He clenhed his fist to prevent his hand from rising to give the children any blessings.  

 

When the maharishi did not bless them, the brothers lowered their hands and exchanged gazes of discomfort. Such a thing had never happened to them. Never had they been denied anything. And when they were denied their right, they fought for it. But how could one fight for someone’s blessings? 

 

Panchali took the first step towards Vyas ji. ‘You have come on an auspicious day, Vyas ji,’ she said with a smile as she stroked her hair. ‘The war of Bharat has ended today. The Mahabharata has ended today.’  

 

‘Yes,’ Vyas ji answered, deeply remorseful. ‘Much has come to an end today.’  

 

Yudhishthir felt the sorrow in Vyas ji’s words and walked over to him. Panchali joined him, smiling warmly at the sage. ‘We have won, Vyas ji,’ Yudhishthir said emphatically, hailing their victory as a matter of great joy. ‘We have finally won what is rightfully ours.’ 

 

‘I have seen your victory, son,’ Vyas ji replied. He glanced back towards the canopy’s entrance, visualizing the carnage that lay outside on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. ‘I congratulate you all,’ he said with a heavy heart.   

 

‘A simple congratulation isn’t enough, Maharishi,’ Arjun insisted. ‘We want your blessings too. Your blessings will help us rule over the entire kingdom of Hastinapur.’  

 

‘Why are you asking for my blessings now, Arjun?’ Vyas ji asked, ‘When you did not ask for my blessings for this war?’  

 

‘Aren’t you happy with our victory, Maharishi?’ Yudhishthir asked anxiously, his hands folded before the sage.  

 

Vyas ji took a long and painful breath. His eyes grew teary and started to sting. ‘What exactly have you won, Yudhishthir?’ he asked, teary-eyed, as he watched the eldest Pandava.  

 

A deep frown creased Yudhishthir’s forehead. ‘We have won a great victory, Maharishi,’ he said. ‘Right has defeated wrong. Good has defeated evil. Dharma has defeated Adharma.’ 

 

‘And who decided what was right and what was wrong?’ Maharishi asked. ‘Who decided what was Dharma and what was Adharma?’ He walked past Yudhishthir and Panchali and stopped in front of the other four brothers.  

 

He looked at Bheem first. Even with his hands folded before him, the giant of a man towered over the innocent Vyas ji like a mountain. ‘Was it you, Bheem?’ Vyas ji asked, ‘A man who can control neither his emotions nor his gluttony?’ When a flash of shame showed on Bheem’s face, Vyas ji turned to Arjun. ‘Was it you, Arjun, with your pride and vanity of being the greatest archer in the world?’  

 

Vyas ji then turned to Nakul and Sahdev, his sorrow becoming evident on his face. ‘Maybe it was you Nakul, and your arrogance over your beauty. Or maybe your brother, Sahdev, who considers himself the most learned of us all.’  

 

With the four brothers standing silent and ashamed, Vyas ji walked back to Panchali and Yudhishthir. He glared at Draupadi and her long, bloodied hair. ‘Tell me, Panchali, do you feel proud of your husbands’ definition of Dharma and Adharma, just as you are proud of their valour, their wisdom and their beauty?’ 

 

Once Panchali’s eyes dropped to the ground with shame, Vyas ji’s gaze turned towards Yudhishthir. ‘Or was it you, King Yudhishthir, who is so full of hatred for his own kin that you now rejoice in their death?’ 

 

When even Yudhishthir could not respond to Vyas ji, he addressed all  brothers inside the canopy at once. ‘Tell me, O sons of Pandu,’ he implored, ‘who among you decided this Dharma and Adharma?’ 

 

Seeing the disappointment on Vyas ji’s face, the Pandavas dared not utter a word. Instead, they stood with sealed lips and folded hands. Their silence only deepened Vyas ji’s disappointment. ‘What a shame!’ He shook his head disdainfully. ‘When men take pride in killing their brothers instead of mourning over their losses. Today, you may have won, sons of Pandu, but I swear to you, Dharma has only lost today.’ With that, he darted towards the canopy’s exit, leaving behind the brothers and their wife in their ashamed silence.  

 

When Vyas ji stepped outside the canopy, the sentries saw him and bowed before him with folded hands. Vyas ji raised his hand and said, ‘Ayushmaan bhava.’ The two sentries thanked Vyas ji for his blessings and watched him walk away.   

 

***

 

Get your copy of The Lineage by Laksh Maheshwari and Ashish Kavi on Amazon or anywhere books are sold.

Sudha Murty Returns After 9 Years with The Circle of Life – A Heartwarming Excerpt

Posted on by bhavika

In The Circle of Life, Sudha Murty masterfully weaves a tale of family, tradition, and aspirations. Here’s an excerpt that captures the warmth of relationships and the weight of legacy.

Front Cover The Circle of Life
The Circle of Life || Sudha Murty

Know More!

Lakshmi Nivas was a prominent bungalow in the Banjara Hills of Hyderabad. It is a place where the rich and powerful people from Tollywood live. During the Nizam’s time, Rama Rao was an engineer and had helped to construct different prominent buildings in Hyderabad.

It was not very crowded those days, and the Nizam had liked his work and rewarded him with a big plot. Later, after Independence, his son Venkateshwara Rao started a company called S.V. Constructions and became a well-known engineer in Hyderabad. They were great devotees of Lord Venkateshwara of Tirupathi. Venkateshwara Rao handled several government projects. He had three children. The eldest, Umesh, helped him with the constructions, though he did not have any formal qualification in civil engineers ering. Then there was Uttara, and the youngest was Shamala. It was not very warm in the second week of July, but Uttara was still feeling hot. She was sitting on the steps of her house. Though the coolers were on, she was uncomfortable. Opposite her, her grandfather Rama Rao was sitting in an armchair with a newspaper, but his focus was on Uttara who was knitting a sweater.

Uttara’s siblings were playing tennis on the court adjacent to the house. ‘Uttara, why are you knitting a sweater? Is it for you to take to Bangalore?’ asked her grandfather. Uttara smiled. ‘It is not for me. It is for you.’ ‘Ha, what a joke! Having a sweater in Hyderabad is as good as selling refrigerators to Eskimos,’ laughed Rama Rao. The sun was setting, and its rays fell on Uttara’s ear studs. The diamond earrings were a gift from Uttara’s late grandmother. Rama Rao remembered his wife because Uttara resembled her very much. She had long hair, a slightly dark complexion and, more or less, was an introvert; but she was extremely intelligent.

Uttara had completed her engineering degree from Osmania University and had done very well. She was a rare combination of wealth and knowledge. Rama Rao had studied in IISc’s civil engineering department more than sixty years ago, and more than three decades ago, his son Venkateshwara Rao had graduated from the same department. And now Uttara was about to join the Institute.

However, she had applied to study computer science, unlike her father and grandfather. Uttara’s siblings were not as academically inclined. Rama Rao and his son felt that Uttara had to take their company forward, but she was unsure. She always felt running a company required a different skill set which she did not have. Uttara suddenly remembered something, got up and went inside. She returned within five minutes and continued. ‘What happened?’ asked her grandpa. Uttara smiled and said, ‘Grandpa, I went in to check my email.’ ‘Regarding what?’ Rama Rao was anxious. ‘Regarding my admission to IISc.’ ‘What happened?

I hope our tradition remains intact.’ ‘Relax Grandpa, I have got admission.’ ‘Oh! That is great news!’ grandpa clapped and cheered. Uttara did not show much enthusiasm and continued knitting. Hearing the clap, Umesh and Shamala stopped their game and came running. ‘What is the big news, Grandpa? You are clapping!’ said Umesh. ‘Yes, we should celebrate. Uttara got admitted to IISc.’ ‘Oh,’ they said and did not bother much.

‘That means Uttara is going to Bangalore?’ asked Shamala. Umesh reminded, ‘You remember that we have dinner at Raj Bhavan, right?’ ‘Yes, but I am not coming,’ said Uttara. ‘I expected that.’ ‘I want to spend time with Grandpa.’ Her brother and sister went inside to get ready. ‘Where are your parents?’ asked Rama Rao, eager to share the joy that he was unable to contain. Her mother had gone to a fashion show, and her father was busy with some government delegates. Rama Rao was disappointed. He knew his daughter- in-law Kamakshi was into jewellery and fashion.

She still thought that she was very young and would often forget that she had a twenty-three-year-old daughter. Kamakshi performed puja and other festivals—not out of devotion, but simply to show off and compete with other elite families in Banjara Hills. The grandeur of each festival increased year after year, though devoid of faith. Rama Rao was sad for a minute but cheered up when he looked at Uttara. She was unlike her mother.

Instead, she was simple, loving, knowledgeable and very sincere. He looked at her and said, ‘Uttara, I am not sure if I will be around but when you have children, please see that they also join IISc. Our family tradition should go on.’ ‘Grandpa, where will you go? I will return to Hyderabad after my studies and will be here with you. You will see us every day,’ Uttara replied to lighten up Rama Rao’s mood. As she completed the sweater, Uttara got up. No one knew her destiny; she may never return to Hyderabad after some years.

error: Content is protected !!