When love, family, and ambition intertwine, craziness and magic are bound to follow. In Swati Hedge’s Match Me If You Can, pub owner Jaiman Patil is smitten with journalist Jia Deshpande, who loves to play matchmaker. As their lives get more tangled, Jaiman’s feelings for Jia grow stronger, and her matchmaking efforts start causing chaos. In Mumbai, though, happily-ever-afters are never far away.
Read this exclusive excerpt to find out what’s really going on!
Match Me If You Can || Swati Hedge
***
The Patils’ and Deshpandes’ lives were so intertwined that when the time had come to name Jia, a year after his best friend’s son was born, Papa simply took the first three letters of Jaiman’s name and scrambled them up to create “Jia.”
It didn’t stop there. Papa and Mr. Patil became business partners, raking in millions in profits throughout Jia’s and Jaiman’s teen years, until Mr. Patil decided to start something of his own and went to America to set up the new industrial business. That was right around when Jaiman was moving to Pune, a few cities away, for college. After Mr. and Mrs. Patil left, and then Jia too, for journalism school in London, Jaiman became a permanent part of the Deshpande family.
Jia would return to India during winter break to find Jaiman mixing plum cake batter in the kitchen, throwing his head back and laughing at one of Papa’s corny dad jokes. He would pause to check if Mamma’s glass of wine needed refilling, and ask Jia’s sister, Tanu, about her latest legal clients. He’d usher Jia over to the kitchen counter and show her pictures of all his weekend getaways with the Deshpandes, which happened every other Saturday, since his college was only a three-hour drive from Mumbai. It was surprising to see how easily he had made his way into her family’s hearts. So much so that when Mamma’s cancer took her away over five years ago, right after Diwali, after Jia had graduated and returned to Mumbai for good, Papa brought Jaiman along with them to scatter Mamma’s ashes in the sea. When Tanu broke down as those ashes disappeared into the waves, it was Jaiman’s shoulder she cried on.
“So how was work today?” Jaiman prodded, and Jia looked up from the tomato sauce dripping from her fork onto the plate.
“It was all right.” Jia shrugged as she helped herself to more lasagna. “I pitched the new matchmaking column to my boss last week, but Monica still needs more convincing that I’m the best person to run it.”
“Oh, wow.” Jaiman raised a thick brow. “Sounds like a big responsibility. But there’s nothing Jia Deshpande can’t do when she sets her mind to it.” He winked at her before swallowing his next bite.
Jia ignored the rush of hormones that flooded her body at his wink and the way his tongue darted out to lick the side of his lip. It was hard to be mad at Jaiman for taking over her life when he was this . . . nice. No wonder everyone in her family loved him.
She let out the smallest of sighs and returned to the rest of the lip-smacking lasagna sitting on her plate. “Maybe I’ll make lunch for you tomorrow, Papa,” she mused aloud with the next bite.
“The chicken breasts I bought during my last grocery run won’t stay fresh for too long.”
Papa shook his head. “Don’t worry, Jaiman used them for lunch today. You should have been there!”
“Yum,” Jia agreed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Papa interrupted her train of thought by speaking up. “Jaiman also took me to the doctor this afternoon. My chest was hurting so bad, I was sure it was a heart attack.”
Jia didn’t react. This had happened three times so far. No, not an actual heart attack scare. Papa’s unwarranted trips to the cardiologist.
“But then it turned out it was just gas!” Papa chortled. “Just like last month!”
The only person Papa hadn’t seen for his presumed illnesses was a therapist. The one kind of professional who could actually help him, Jia believed. He had kept the grief of Mamma’s death to himself for five long years now, allowed it to manifest in unhealthy ways, like imagined sickness and fretting over every little thing. Perhaps it was his coping mechanism—assume every minor problem was a dangerous illness, so that it could be detected early, unlike Mamma’s cancer.
Jia hoped she might, someday, set Papa up with someone wonderful who would ground him into reality and bring him some peace. But knowing her father, knowing how devoted he’d been to Mamma, it was unlikely to happen. Maybe falling in love wasn’t a choice, but working on nurturing that love within a relationship absolutely was. And it was a choice Papa wouldn’t be willing to make with anybody except Mamma.
After dinner, as she was putting her plate in the sink—the housekeeper would do the dishes in the morning—Jaiman sidled up beside her, the citrusy scent of his cologne heavy in the air. Jia didn’t understand how a man could smell this good the entire day. It should be illegal. She turned to him, arms folded, trying not to visibly inhale.
“Good job on the lasagna.” He grinned at her. “Thanks. I have to get back to the pub now. Do you want to join me? I could use your help taste-testing some new drinks.”
Jia’s gaze went to the wall clock hanging in the living room across from the open kitchen. It was just past ten, and although it would have been smarter to spend the rest of her night brainstorming ways to convince Monica, maybe a cocktail or two wouldn’t
hurt.
It was Friday night, after all. “Sure,” she said finally.
***
Get your copy of Match Me If You Can by Swati Hedge on Amazon or wherever books are sold.
Novoneel Chakraborty, known for his nail-biting thrillers with intricate twists, dark plots, and strong female protagonists, has often been dubbed the Sidney Sheldon of India. In an unexpected yet delightful shift, he surprises his fans by venturing into a romantic comedy with Remember Me As Yours. Combining the suspenseful mastery of Sheldon with the romantic flair of Jane Austen, this new book offers a unique blend of love and excitement.
Read this exclusive excerpt to experience Chakraborty like never before as he brings laughter and love to his storytelling.
Remember Me As Yours || Novoneel Chakraborty
***
‘Let’s meet at an OYO room,’ he had said over the phone. Nityami swallowed a lump in her throat. She knew what the connotation of an OYO room was. Though she was actually a virgin, she had told Raghav a lie that she had a boyfriend with whom she had been intimate. Nityami realized by now that it was all right to tell a guy about one boyfriend, or else she would run the risk of being interpreted as boring. More than one, and the boy would run the risk of feeling threatened
and also judge her character. Thus, she had told Raghav only about one imaginary boyfriend. The truth was, she never had a boyfriend. From the time she felt her hormones handholding her into puberty, she had a crush on one boy in school. The crush eventually turned into such an intense fixation that Nityami thought she would just remain in love with him, and he would never know it. The power of unreciprocated love. It can numb the sensible part of your brain for quite some time. For Nityami, it remained so until she turned twenty-three.
Looking around, she realized she too deserved a boyfriend. She knew someone must have been made for her; it was just that she didn’t think seeking him out would be such heartachingly hard work that even by twenty-seven, she wouldn’t be successful in finding THE man for her. There were plenty of options for the trending NATO (NotAttached-To-Outcome) dating amongst youngsters, but Nityami wasn’t exactly looking for that. That was till she met Raghav via Bumble a month ago. Their connection seemed to run at top gear. They met, they conversed, they liked each other; he told his parents first, then she told her parents and now, a month after their first date at a café, the families had locked a date for the engagement in the coming week and the wedding seven months later. It all happened so fast that Nityami didn’t know how to react. Perhaps that’s how life operates, she told herself. A long dry spell and then so much rain that you didn’t know whether to enjoy it or run for cover.
Standing in front of her bedroom mirror, Nityami knew she didn’t want to screw this up. If Raghav had called her to an OYO room, she knew he probably wanted to check their sexual compatibility. And rightly so. Though she wasn’t experienced enough to even understand what sexual compatibility was, going by what she heard from her experienced friends, all she knew was if the guy could go for more than half an hour, then it was a green light. One final look at her eyebrows and she convinced herself that nothing could be done now. Instead of him discovering it, Nityami thought, she would point out the faux pas herself when she met him in an hour. He probably wouldn’t mind it so much then.
Nityami was dressed casually but that was going to change. She always used to dress casually to go out of her house because she didn’t want her parents to know she was going out on a date. On date-days, she used to reach a nearby mall well before time, change, put on some make-up and then visit the café or restaurant to meet her date. And before coming back home, she would pretend in front of the guy that she was waiting for her Uber. When he left, she would invariably go back to the mall, change and finally head home. It would spare her all the unnecessary questions her parents would have asked otherwise. Even though they were involved in Raghav’s case, she still couldn’t tell her parents she was going to an OYO room with him. Nityami left the house saying she was going to meet a college friend.
That too triggered a set of questions from her mother:
Which college friend?
What is she doing now?
Is she married?
Kids?
How is her marriage going?
Is she settled here or abroad?
Nityami knew if the answers were negative, her mother would still be filled with a weird positivity. She would be convinced that her daughter wasn’t the only one suffering in the world. This time, before her mother could even ask who the friend was, Nityami left, saying her Uber had arrived.
During her Uber auto ride from the mall to the OYO hotel, Nityami suddenly started feeling nervous. She had never been naked in front of a man. And she didn’t have the perfect figure. She was slightly plump but thankfully, she had a good basal metabolic rate (BMR) so the fat was well distributed. She could feel gooseflesh thinking about what would happen in the room from the time she would enter it. Until that time, she had found Raghav very comfortable to be around. He never asked any awkward questions like the other guys she’d dated, nor did he have a condescending sense of humour where he belittled her and her attempts to be a working professional. Raghav didn’t have any problem with her working after marriage. Thinking about Raghav, she started fantasizing about what they would do. Would they simply begin smooching, strip each other and talk only after they were done? Like she had seen in so many Hollywood
films? Or would they converse a little, have some food and drink . . . Nityami remembered she had lied to him that she had never drunk alcohol. She did drink socially but the pressure of a ‘correct’ girl was something she started feeling when she entered the dating scene with marriage in mind. Casual dating didn’t have those pressures, but the guys who were in the dating scene for marriage wanted a ‘correct’ girl. And a correct girl meant she shouldn’t have any bad habits. Bad habits as defined by men, of course.
Nityami reached the OYO hotel.
‘Are you inside?’ she WhatsApped him on entering the lobby. Raghav was supposed to message her after he reached. He hadn’t.
‘Yes,’ the response came. It was a three-star hotel. Nothing fancy. Nityami walked up to the reception, gave them her Aadhaar card, which they photocopied and gave the original back to her. Nityami looked around for the elevator. She took it and stepped out on to the first floor. Next, she looked for room number 106. As she stood in front of the door, she took a deep breath. Something unprecedented would have happened by the time she came out of the room.
***
Want to know what happens next?
Get your copy of Remember Me As Yours by Novoneel Chakraborty on Amazon or wherever books are sold.
Loving someone who doesn’t love you back is something many of us have experienced. Rithvik Singh‘s I Don’t Love You Anymore offers solace to those who feel deeply and love unconditionally. Here are five powerful selections from the book, each one a gentle embrace for the heart, reminding us that healing and letting go are part of the journey. Dive in and let Rithvik’s words be the comforting companion you need on your toughest days.
I Don’t Love You Anymore || Rithvik Singh
***
If you ever knew someone who loved you enough to be terrified of losing you, I hope you know how rare it is to find someone like that. Someone who would leave flowers on your dining table, kisses on your forehead and the scent of love in your heart. Someone who would gently hold the pieces of your heart on days when life gets too hard. If you ever knew someone who loved you the way the sky loves its stars, I hope you didn’t end up breaking their heart.
And if you did, I hope life breaks your heart too.
***
You’re not the kind of flower
that can be plucked
and put in someone’s hair.
You’re the kind of flower
people find too pretty to pluck. The kind of flower that deserves to keep blooming.
***
Things are hard with people who don’t love you hard. People
whose love isn’t the ocean but its waves. The ones who always
leave you confused. They don’t tell you that they love you, but
they also don’t accept that they don’t. They hold your hand but
refuse to hold your heart. They lend you space in their heart,
but they don’t let you stay in it.
***
I’ll watch nine episodes of a show in one day, but keep postponing
the last one. When things change. When fate changes. I avoid
watching it. I try not to make it to the end. I bury my curiosity
and start another show. I go out and meet a friend. I do
everything I can to not let the show end. But I know I’ve got to
face the ending, no matter how much it terrifies me, or how far
I try to run away from it. I know the show has already ended. I
know the ending won’t change. This is not about the shows.
***
Love
It’s in having tea at midnight with someone who is used to
having it at night, only to give them company.
In forgetting the distance between cities and crossing it with
a smile on your face—only to put a smile on the face of the
person you love.
Seeing a flower shop and immediately getting a few for someone.
Sitting on video calls at night and not talking to each other
because you’re both tired, but never being too tired to not
make some time for each other.
Holding hands in busy streets and holding them tight at the
end of a busy week.
It’s in refusing to let distance change your feelings. In ensuring
that love never leaves.
Love is in the air, and our curated collection of romance books is ready to steal your heart this Valentine’s Day! From sizzling meet-cutes to soul-stirring tales of love lost and found, these books are bursting with passion, drama, and everything in between. Get ready to fall head over heels into a world of romance like never before!
Fool Me Twice || Nona Uppal
Set in New Delhi, Fool Me Twice is an unconventional story that will stump readers expecting a good, old romance trope. We meet and fall in love with a young couple planning their futures together when life rudely hijacks the steering wheel. Exploring the ways a twenty-year-old navigates grief and life after a loss that shatters most fifty-year-olds, Fool Me Twice looks at the complexity of falling in love ‘again’ at an age where most are falling for the first time, and what it feels like to move on from mourning one great love to make room for another.
All That Sizzles || Sakshama Puri Dhaliwal
A spicy meet-cute that will delight your rom-com palate!
Wedding planner Tanvi Bedi is all fired up about her latest project, the $100 million wedding of a media heiress. The only hitch is her high-profile client’s wishlist chef, Nik Shankar. Weddings are a complete no-no for Nik, but there must be something—or someone—he can’t resist.
Nik Shankar’s lifelong dream of inheriting his ancestral home is in jeopardy due to his estranged grandfather’s absurd caveat—Nik must get married to claim the property. When Tanvi storms into his office, an inconceivable solution presents itself: Nik will craft the wedding if Tanvi pretends to be his fiancée.
What starts as a recipe for disaster whips up into a delectable feast of simmering chemistry and fiery passion. But as the line between fake and real blurs, Tanvi and Nik must confront their inner demons before their charade goes up in smoke.
Could love be the secret ingredient they need?
All He Left Me Was a Recipe || Shenaz Treasury
Part fact, part fiction, All He Left Me Was a Recipe is a never-ending pursuit of love, a quest for the ever-elusive ‘Mr Right,’ all while kissing the ‘Mr Maybes’. It’s a rollercoaster ride through the fabulous and often hilariously complicated world of modern dating where love, lust and culinary metaphors are on the menu.
From ‘a-ha’ moments to giggles and even some epic heartbreaks with a fair share of tear-shedding, this book is a VIP pass to Shenaz Treasury’s heart in all its shapes and forms over the years. Every story wraps up with
a recipe—a memento from each of these unforgettable encounters—along with some timeless life lessons.
So, pour a glass of wine, get comfy and dive into a world that’ll make you laugh, shed a tear or two, and who knows, you might just find yourself along the way.
The Henna Start-Up || Andaleeb Wajid
Abir Maqsood is angry.
She has things to do: a career to carve, money to earn, and, in the small stuff, a dining table to fix. But there are many obstacles in the way: lack of money, her parents’ over-protective attitude, and a most annoying distraction in class called Arsalan.
When her mother is not paid her dues for her henna service, Abir resolves to help her by creating a henna app. Her college is also running a programme for student start-ups so things look most fortuitous. But the path to getting funding is littered with more thorns than roses.
As Abir navigates through college, friendships and social pressures with determination, will she find the freedom that she is truly looking for?
Zen || Shabnam Minwala
In this deeply addictive, sweeping book about the life and times of the two Zainabs, is captured a short history of Mumbai, and of India. Of what we were and what we have become.
Zipping between the past and the present, between midnight’s children and millennials and getting both right, Shabnam Minwalla has crafted a page-turner whose heart is open, inclusive and populated by a host of memorable characters. -Jerry Pinto
Terminal 3 || Debasmita Dasgupta
It’s August 2019 and Khwab Nazir is waiting to board the plane at Terminal 3 of New Delhi International Airport. Set to represent India at an international jiu-jitsu tournament, Khwab nervously looks towards her unknown future. She also reflects on her complicated past-of growing up against the insurmountable difficulties
of life in Kashmir.
Between happiness and emptiness, desire and grief, penance and peace-Khwab has endured. She has a dream that life will be a paradise, one day. Breathing against the backdrop of conflict, Terminal 3, is the story of the everyday people striving to live their dreams in the Valley.
The Girl Who Kept Falling in Love || Rheea Mukherjee
Told through the lens of urban myths, accounts of past lovers, bared confessions and half-truths that make up Kaya’s world, The Girl Who Kept Falling in Love dives deep into the futilities of being attached to global aspiration and fighting institutionalized hate while chasing a universal need for love and acceptance.
It was Always You || Sudeep Nagarkar
Have you ever regretted a lost love?
Karan and Shruti are a happily married couple. Until Karan’s ex resurfaces into his life one day. Soon Karan finds himself getting nostalgic over matters of the heart and thinking fondly of his first romance. Will he put his steady and seemingly perfect marriage at stake for his ex-girlfriend?
Meanwhile his best friend Aditya finds his own relationship with his wife Jasmine going through an emotional turmoil. Will both friends work towards keeping their marriage afloat, or make a decision they would later regret?
The Perfect Us || Durjoy Datta
Love is not having to hold back . . . but will she ever truly let him in?
Avantika is an investment banker, an ambitious go-getter and the exact opposite of Deb-a corporate professional turned failed writer, turned scripter of saas-bahu serials.
They’ve been together for ten years, surviving everything from college to rave parties to annoying best friends, including Shrey, who has no respect for personal boundaries, and Vernita and Tanmay-the annoying yet enviable ‘it’ couple who seem to have it all.
Now Avantika wants to take the next step. But will Deb be able to catch up? Or will it rip them apart? No matter how hard he tries, Deb can’t convince Avantika that he’s the one for her. Not as long as she is broken and her past looms in the background-pushing her, troubling her, goading her to question if their love is enough.
Will Deb be able to find their perfect place? The Perfect Us is love’s struggle to find a happily ever after. . .
Heart Tantrums || Aisha Sarwari
In order to be able to survive, Aisha Sarwari was told, love and devoted acts of service will always light the way. These however, become the very reason of her complete unravelling.
In this large and messy voice of a memoir, Heart Tantrums artfully describes the scatter of catastrophic losses-the loss of her father in early adolescence; leaving behind her family home in East Africa; and trying to fit into a completely different culture in Lahore after marriage. In 2017, when Aisha first held her husband Yasser Latif Hamdani’s brain MRI against the light, she began to also lose the man she loved to a personality-altering brain tumour.
I Too Had a Love Story || Ravinder Singh
Do love stories ever die?. . . How would you react when a beautiful person comes into your life, and then goes away from you . . . forever?Not all love stories are meant to have a perfect ending. I Too Had a Love Story is one such saga. It is the tender and heartfelt tale of Ravin and Khushi-two people who found each other on a matrimonial site and fell in love . . . until life put their love to the ultimate test.Romantic, emotional and sincere, this heartbreaking true life story has already touched a million hearts. This bestselling novel is a must-read for anyone who believes in the magic of love . . .
Something I Never Told You || Shravya Bhinder
When in love, you tend to take each other for granted, and sometimes, that can cost you a lifetime of togetherness . . .
Ronnie knew that his first crush was way out of his league, and yet he pursued and wooed Adira. Shyly and from a distance in the beginning, and more persuasively later. He couldn’t believe it when the beautiful Adira actually began to reciprocate, falling in love with him for his simplicity and honesty.
Slowly, as they get close and comfortable with each other, life takes on another hue. From truly magical it becomes routine. There are fights and then making-up sessions-a clash of egos and doubts.
Things begin to change for the worst.
It is too late.
Ronnie and Adira will probably never find their forever after . .
Something I’m Waiting to Tell You || Shravya Bhinder
‘Letting go of her was not easy but winning her back was harder than anything I could have ever imagined’
After nearly losing the love of his life to a terrible accident, Ronnie realizes how much he loves Adira and what an idiot he had been to hurt her. What’s more, her overprotective mother now takes care of her, and does not like Ronnie being anywhere near her daughter.
He’s going through hell-unable to go back in time and fix things, unable to say what he missed saying to her, ‘I love you . . .’
All he wants now is a second chance, to trace his steps back into a loving relationship and win Adira over. It will not be easy because life is tough; love, even tougher.
Something I’m Waiting to Tell You is the sweet, intense conclusion of a story that started with Something I Never Told You, a book that will teach you a thing or two about soulmates.
Make A Move || Stuti Changle
Join rising YouTube star Alara, struggling but hopeful stand-up comedian Aarav, and zany but zen beach shack owner Ricky on a quest for the truth in You Live Only Once.
Discover yourself with Myra, Kabir and Sandy, three individuals who refuse to give up on themselves as they make life-changing decisions, in On the Open Road.
Embark on the adventure of growing up with Iti, Nishit and Shelly in Where the Sun Never Sets.
Bestselling author Stuti Changle’s trio of novels are life-changing stories of human relationships, of introspection, and of having the courage to follow your dreams.
Now together in this boxset, they promise to entertain, inspire and, of course, compel you to Make a Move.
World’s Best Girlfriend || Durjoy Datta
‘When he turns, I see his eyes. There’s a sense of surety in them, a sense of danger, a sense of entitlement and definitely, arrogance.’
Daksh and Aanchal meet under improbable circumstances in the most unlikely of places-a posh resort in the Andamans. While Aanchal is fighting hard to escape the shackles of a lower middle-class existence, Daksh is aimless and unsure of what his future holds. Strangely, they are drawn to each other.
‘My gaze drifts to her exposed back, and the tiny knot that secures her shimmering choli in place. Emotions of anger mix with a strange desire in me.’
Four years later, when they meet again, Daksh’s world has crumbled around him. The burden of caring for his sick father and six-year-old sister has left him with little time for anything else. Yet, despite their diverging paths, Daksh and Aanchal find themselves reconnecting in unexpected ways. Their mutual attraction deepens.
Till now, fate has been pushing them together, but what will happen when they decide to take matters into their own hands? Will life be as they’ve imagined, or will destiny take even that away from them?
World’s Best Boyfriend || Durjoy Datta
Hate, is a four letter word.
So is love.
And sometimes, people can’t tell the difference…
Dhurv and Aranya spend a good part of their lives trying to figure out why they want to destroy each other, why they hurt each other so deeply. And, why they can’t stay away from each other.
The answer is just as difficult each time because all they’ve wanted is to do the worst, most miserable things to one another.
Yet there is something that tells them: THIS IS NOT IT.
If you want to know the answer to it all, read the book.
Get ready to swoon, sigh, and maybe shed a tear or two as you dive into these 8 irresistible romance audiobooks that promise to tug at your heartstrings and remind you of the beauty (and occasional agony) of love. From chance encounters to shattered hearts and second chances, this handpicked collection has got it all.
So grab your headphones, cozy up, and prepare to be swept away into Durjoy Datta’s world of romance, where love reigns supreme, even if you’re flying solo this Valentine’s Day!
World’s Best Girlfriend || Durjoy Datta
‘When he turns, I see his eyes. There’s a sense of surety in them, a sense of danger, a sense of entitlement and definitely, arrogance.’
Daksh and Aanchal meet under improbable circumstances in the most unlikely of places—a posh resort in the Andamans. While Aanchal is fighting hard to escape the shackles of a lower middle-class existence, Daksh is aimless and unsure of what his future holds. Strangely, they are drawn to each other.
‘My gaze drifts to her exposed back, and the tiny knot that secures her shimmering choli in place. Emotions of anger mix with a strange desire in me.’
Four years later, when they meet again, Daksh’s world has crumbled around him. The burden of caring for his sick father and six-year-old sister has left him with little time for anything else. Yet, despite their diverging paths, Daksh and Aanchal find themselves reconnecting in unexpected ways. Their mutual attraction deepens.
Till now, fate has been pushing them together, but what will happen when they decide to take matters into their own hands? Will life be as they’ve imagined, or will destiny take even that away from them?
Wish I Could Tell You || Durjoy Datta
Can you find yourself after you have lost that special someone? A disillusioned and heartbroken Anusha finds herself in the small world of WeD. Struggling to cope with her feelings and the job of raising money for charity, she reluctantly searches for a worthwhile cause to support.
For Ananth, who has been on the opposite side, no life is less worthy, no cause too small to support. Behind them are teams for whom going to extraordinary lengths to save lives is more than a full-time occupation. In front of them is the virtual world of social media—watching, interacting, judging, making choices, and sometimes, saving lives. From the virtual to the real, their lives and that of their families, entangle in a way that moving together is the only solution. They can’t escape each other. In this world of complicated relationships, should love be such a difficult ride?
A Touch of Eternity || Durjoy Datta
Born on the same day and at the same time, Druvan and Anvesha know they are soulmates in every sense of the word. Their parents, however, refuse to accept their “togetherness” at first and try to tear them apart. Druvan and Anvesha try their best to explain why that cannot happen.
In the same timeline, the world has made huge progress in science and some of the first experiments to combine the body and the soul have begun. This is an opportunity for them to prove their love and tell the world that it is love that can make the impossible, possible.
Druvan and Anvesha participate in the experiment as if their life depends on it, because it does. The only thing that remains to be seen is, will the dream of a man to control love and life come true? And when the time comes, can one stay true to their soulmate?
If It’s Not Forever It’s Not Love || Durjoy Datta, Nikita Singh
When Deb, an author and publisher, survives the bomb blasts at Chandni Chowk, he knows his life is nothing short of a miracle. Though he escapes with minor injuries, he is haunted by the images and voices he heard on that unfortunate day.
Even as he recovers, his feet take him to where the blasts took place. From the burnt remains, he discovers a diary. It seems to belong to a dead man who was deeply in love with a girl. As he reads the heartbreaking narrative, he knows this story must never be left incomplete. Thus begins Deb’s journey with his girlfriend, Avantika, and his best friend, Shrey, to hand over the diary to the man’s beloved.
Highly engrossing and powerfully told, If It’s Not Forever tells an unforgettable tale of love and life.
The Girl of My Dreams || Durjoy Datta
We are in the car. She’s looking at me. I can see the love in her eyes for me. Then a huge crash. She’s flung out of the window. I’m thrown out too. A pool of blood. Her eyes are still on me…but now it’s a death stare.
I am Daman, and I wake up to this nightmare. Every. Single. Day.
Waking up from a long coma, Daman learns that he was in a massive car crash with a girl who vanished soon after the accident, leaving him for dead.
Strangely, all he remembers is a hazy face, her hypnotic eyes, and her name – Shreyasi.
To come to terms with his memory lapse, he starts piecing together stories about himself and Shreyasi from his dreams, which he then turns into a hugely popular blog.
When he’s offered a lucrative publishing deal to convert his blog pieces into a novel, he signs up immediately. However, he gives in to editorial pressure and agrees to corrupt the original edgy character of Shreyasi.
Big mistake.
From then on, Daman is stalked and threatened by a terrifying beauty who claims to be Shreyasi and who will stop at nothing to make him pay for being a sell-out.
Before Daman fights back, he needs to know: Is she really who she claims to be? What does she want from him now? What if he doesn’t do what she wants him to?
The Girl of My Dreams is definitely not your usual love story.
The Boy with a Broken Heart || Durjoy Datta
You’re asking me to hold your hand. And now you’re turning away from me. You are saying something, but I can’t hear you. It’s too windy. You’re crying now. Now you’re smiling. I’m done. I love you….
It’s been two years since Raghu left his first love, Brahmi, on the edge of the roof one fateful night. He couldn’t save her; he couldn’t be with her. Having lost everything, Raghu now wants to stay hidden from the world.
However, the annoyingly persistent Advaita finds his elusiveness very attractive. And the more he ignores her, the more she’s drawn to him till she bulldozes her way into an unlikely friendship.
What attracts at first, begins to grate. Advaita can’t help but want to know what Raghu has left behind, what he’s hiding, and who broke his heart. She wants to love him back to life, but for that she needs to know what wrecked him in the first place.
After all, the antidote to heartache is love.
She Broke Up, I Didn’t! || Durjoy Datta
Deb is absolutely crazily in love with the stunning Avantika. He can’t believe she is his. Their relationship is going great except for the one time when Deb faltered by breaching her trust. After he apologized, Avantika grudgingly accepted him back. However, his insecurity about her seems to be pushing him into infidelity again. The trust he had worked so hard to build is lost once again. Will Avantika take him back this time, or will she move on?
In She Broke Up, I Didn’t!, Durjoy Datta explores the themes of fidelity, love, and lust through a roller coaster of misunderstandings and mistakes that are so common in relationships today.
World’s Best Boyfriend || Durjoy Datta
Dhurv and Aranya spend a good part of their lives trying to figure out why they want to destroy each other, why they hurt each other so deeply. And, why they can’t stay away from each other.
The answer is just as difficult each time because all they’ve wanted is to do the worst, most miserable things to one another.
Yet there is something that tells them: THIS IS NOT IT.
If you want to know the answer to it all, read the book.
Ever wondered what happens when a girl falls for a guy nicknamed ‘Frankenstein,’ despite all the warning bells ringing around her? Join Shenaz Treasury in All He Left Me Was a Recipe, a rollercoaster of love, laughter, and life lessons, as she spills the beans on relationships, awkward moments, and recipes that turn out to be more than just ingredients on paper.
All He Left Me Was a Recipe || Shenaz Treasury
***
They called him Frankenstein.
Her friends, Malini and Jarna, were wary of him.
‘He’s shady.’
‘He parties too much.’
‘He cheated on his ex.’
‘He lies.’
Their warnings rang in her ears, but she ignored them all.
There was just something about him. He was smooth, charming and made her laugh and giggle.
He loved strawberry ice cream. They often found themselves in Naturals licking ice cream together, giggling at his jokes.
She travelled for the first time in her life to Europe.
A solo backpacking trip. But after a few weeks he started missing her and showed up at her dorm.
They went to Italy and Switzerland. And while she wanted to see everything, he just wanted to chill, but somehow they found a balance and giggled all the way about how different they were. They laughed a lot.
All his jokes were funny until a year later, when the feel-good hormones and brain chemicals were starting to return to normal, and she suddenly began to notice little things. He drank way too much and his drunk rambling, which was once adorable, had become increasingly confusing. He had a myriad other habits that she couldn’t help noticing. It was a broad spectrum that ranged from blatantly flirting with girls in front of her to fights instigated by him on Fridays that lasted the weekend after which they’d find their way back to this bubble of infatuation by Sunday. In this bubble, he was still so attractive, still made her laugh and they still travelled, ate a lot of strawberry ice cream and had a lot of fun together.
And that’s the thing about attraction; it can blind you to everything else and throw caution to the wind.
She was in the studio hosting her 1000th episode on MTV. It was a big day and a great number of people had tuned in. She was on the couch, taking questions. She called on a girl from the live audience who had raised her hand.
‘Hi, I’m Jugnoo. Don’t you think it’s still a maledominated world out here in India?’
She considered the question.
With a deep breath she replied, ‘Hi Jugnoo. Well, um . . . Yes. I think that it’s a male-dominated world if we let it be. I mean, the world is the world we let it be, but we can make it the world we want it to be.’
Meanwhile, on the other end of the screen, her best friends were watching her from a beauty parlour. Jarna was getting a head massage and munching on potato wedges drenched in mayo with her big belly (she was pregnant at the time), and a very sad, tired looking Yogi, who had just broken up with her boyfriend, was getting her legs waxed.
‘Indian women face challenges, we all know that. We may feel boxed in by customs and fears and expectations. But we should be allowed to reject those things if they aren’t . . . right for us.’ In the beauty parlour, Yogi yelped as a strip of wax was pulled from her leg.
At the same time, in her living room, her parents, sister and a group of aunties were watching too.
The aunties all beamed with pride when they heard her say, ‘My own loving, beautiful mother looks at my world, my choices and my possibilities, and it’s a world she doesn’t even recognize. Our generation of women have the opportunity to create a world that isn’t, as you say, male dominated. And I believe we can.’
On hearing her speak, one of the aunties was compelled to share her own pearl of wisdom: ‘She sounds like she’s lost weight.’
The live audience clapped, and the switchboard lit up. It was time. ‘All right, let’s go to a call. We’re on with . . .’ she announced as she read from the screen. A muffled voice responded on the other end, the words not quite audible. She looked over at the control booth. The confused engineer held his hands up behind the glass panel.
‘Hi, you are on air.’ Suddenly, the muffled voice responded. It was positively female, and it said, ‘TV GIRL, stop seeing him.’
Her eyes widened.
Confused and wary, she ventured in an amiable voice, ‘Sorry? Do you have a question for me?’
The muffled female voice on the other end hesitated. ‘He . . . is with you and me, and God knows how many others for God knows how many months.’
In her home living room, her parents, sister and the aunties were all shocked.
‘Frankenstein?’ her sister screeched.
***
Curious to know what happened next?
Get your copy of All He Left Me Was a Recipe by Shenaz Treasury wherever books are sold.
Ever wondered what it’s truly like to date with a disability? Abhishek Anicca spills the beans in his book, The Grammar of My Body. Buckle up for a journey into his world, where he breaks stereotypes and shares the real talk about love, relationships, and the unique adventures of being a queer-disabled man. Get ready to dive into a story that’s anything but ordinary!
The Grammar of My Body || Abhishek Anicca
That’s a match
In my fantasies
I draw you with a pencil
I draw myself with an eraser
I have a fear, buried deep down inside me. That someday, someone will find me attractive. Someone would want to touch me, make love to me. Running their hands over my disabled body. Not turned off by the proportions of my body or the way it lies on the bed, hunched, like it is walking through a dream.
What should I tell them before we make love? Should I tell them that I wear a diaper? They would know that eventually. How would I tell them that? Should I start with my history of diseases? I have to tell them about my scoliosis. And my infections. My urinary tract infections. Infections that recur with growing frequency these days. We would use a condom. We have to use a condom. ‘Here, take E. coli. And thanks for making love to me.’ I can’t do that to anyone. Not after knowing that they like my body.
The thought makes me scared. I don’t know if I am capable of having penetrative sex. I haven’t done that for almost a decade. Not since I became disabled. The first few years of being disabled were just about coping with disability. How to go out without your bladder getting the best of you. Or, worse still, when you lose control over your shit while walking outside, in a mall. You run towards the bathroom, but it’s already too late. The film is about to start. My friends are waiting. There is no way I can watch the film now. My nerves are aching. There is a spasm that makes it hard for me to use my right leg. ‘Sorry, I had some urgent work. Had to rush out.’ No more movie plans for me. Not before I learn how to empty my bowels before I step out of the house. And wear a diaper just in case my bowels betray me. Adult diaper, my best friend.
‘Adult diaper’, the words cause a flutter in the medical store. They pile up in my wastebasket every week till I pack them in a black dustbin bag and deliver them personally to the garbage bin. A secret document of my lived life, delivered without anyone noticing. I was scared about sharing this secret even with friends. The word might get out soon and ruin whatever chances I had of going out on a date. Not that wearing a diaper was the only deal-breaker.
What does it mean to love a disabled person? Does it mean empathy? Do you empathize with your lover? Maybe it’s about passion. And understanding. But can you understand someone without empathizing with them? ‘I love you. I am sorry but I don’t want to be a
burden on you.’ My friend says disabled people can be negative. I agree. We are so negative that sometimes the able-bodied mind never reaches us. The distance is too far on a number line.
Recently, a cab driver asked me if I was married. I said no. He said ‘Oh! You have money, you must be getting laid anyhow.’ I looked at his face in the mirror beside him. A young man in his twenties. Maybe for him, access to sex was just about money. Maybe he had been rejected by someone because of money. Maybe I didn’t tell him that my only date, through an online dating site, was with a disabled girl. We went on a date and she only wanted to talk about our disability. Plus, getting sex was not a problem for her. ‘Men are bastards, they
don’t care if you are disabled, they just want to do it.’ I wasn’t envious any more.
There are times when I am full of self-hatred for my body. I don’t have a dressing table at home. It makes me feel better about myself. I keep telling myself that I am losing weight. But T-shirts don’t lie. I was in the hospital for a month around January with a severe kidney infection and by March, all of my T-shirts were tight. I thought you were supposed to lose weight when you fell ill. All givens escape me
Being fat is the least of your problems when you are wearing a diaper and have a urinary tract infection all the time. You pee so much that you forget male genitalia has any other purpose. It’s when you get better that your desire reawakens. But then, everyone makes you look in the mirror. You are still fat and disabled. You become sad. And then depressed. Spells of decent physical health occupied by bad mental health. Till it becomes a self-repeating cycle.
In my defence, I would like to say I love myself. But that is probably going too far. The first time I proposed to a girl as a twenty-year-old, she told me she liked me but didn’t love me. I think I agree with her. Even I possibly only like myself.
The thought of not being loved doesn’t haunt me any more. It bothers my romantic heart sometimes. But there are so many people who can’t find love. So I go out, have fun with friends, read books, write poetry and enjoy long platonic conversations
It’s just a few minutes every day. Probably around midnight. When my body hurts. It laments everything that eludes it. Every touch. Every sensation. And only then it is reminded of its incompleteness. Incomplete. Yearning. Longing. It’s like a melancholic song that never ends.
***
Get your copy of The Grammar of My Body by Abhishek Anicca wherever books are sold.
Jhumpa Lahiri is back, and this time she’s taking you to Rome to savor some delicious Roman Stories. Lahiri beautifully captures the dynamics of various gatherings, bringing together people from different backgrounds and countries. Immerse yourself in the allure of these Roman Stories – grab your copy now!
Roman Stories || Jhumpa Lahiri
***
I should note straightaway that P’s parties took place every year at her house, on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, during the mild winters we typically enjoy in this city. Unlike the slog of other winter holidays spent with family, always arduous, P’s birthday, at the beginning of the new year, was an unpredictable gathering, languorous and light. I looked forward to the commotion of the crowded house, the pots of water on the verge of boiling, the smartly dressed wives always ready to lend a hand in the kitchen. I waited for the first few glasses of prosecco before lunch to go to my head, sampled the various appetizers. Then I liked to join the other adults out on the patio for a little fresh air, to smoke a cigarette and comment on the soccer game the kids played without interruption in the yard.
The atmosphere at P’s party was warm but impersonal, owing to the number of people invited, who knew one another either too well or not at all. You’d encounter two distinct groups, like two opposing currents that crisscross in the ocean, forming a perfectly symmetrical shape, only to cancel each other out a moment later. On one side there were those like me and my wife, old friends of P and her husband who came every year, and on the other our counterparts: foreigners who’d show up for a few years, or sometimes just once.
They came from different countries, for work or for love, for a change of scenery, or for some other mysterious reason. They were a nomadic population that piqued my interest— prototypes, perhaps, for one of my future stories, the kind of people I’d have the chance to meet and casually observe only at P’s house. In no time at all they’d manage to visit nearly all parts of our country, tackling the smaller towns on the weekends, skiing our mountains in February, and swimming in our crystalline seas in July. They’d pick up a decent smattering of our language, adapt to the food, forgive the daily chaos. Overnight they’d become minor experts in the historical events
we’d memorized as kids and had all but forgotten—which emperor succeeded which, what they accomplished. They had a strategic relationship with this city without ever fully being a part of it, knowing that sooner or later their trip would end and one day they’d be gone.
They were so different from the group I belonged to: those of us born and raised in Rome, who bemoaned the city’s alarming decline but could never leave it behind. The type of people for whom just moving to a new neighborhood in their thirties—going to a new pharmacy, buying the newspaper from a different newsstand, finding a table at a different coffee bar—was the equivalent of departure, displacement, complete rupture.
P was an old friend of my wife’s. They’d known each other for many years, before we started dating, having grown up on the same block lined with grand palazzi. As kids they played together until dark; they went to the same elementary school and then the same challenging high school; they wandered off to buy contraband cigarettes from a shady guy behind a piazza that was quiet in those days. They went to the same university and, after graduating, rented a fifth-floor apartment in the thick of the city center. In the summers they traveled together to other countries—experiences they still loved to talk about. Then matters of the heart intervened: my wife met me at a New Year’s Eve party, while P married a staid but friendly lawyer, a man of average height, good looking but slightly cross-eyed, and became a mother of four—three boys in quick succession, and then, like a simple but welcome dessert after a three-course meal, a girl.
Not long before the girl was born, P had a brush with death. A renowned doctor, always among those invited to the party, ended up saving her life with a tricky surgery. From then on, this yearly gathering became a constant: this sunny afternoon around her birthday, this merry, lavish lunch that brought together a wide range of people. P liked to fill the house and churn her friends together—relatives, neighbors, parents of her children’s classmates. She liked to throw open the door at least fifty times, offering something to eat, playing host, exchanging a few words with everyone.
It was thanks to my wife, then, that I went to that house once a year, a somewhat secluded house on the city’s outskirts. To get there, you took a curved, picturesque road, lined with cypresses and tumbling ivy. A road that swept you away, an urban road that ferried you toward the sea and put the frenzied city far behind. At a certain point there was a sharp right turn; you had to keep an eye out, it was easy to miss. After that it became a sort of residential labyrinth, with narrow, shaded, unpaved streets. You couldn’t see the houses, just tall gates and the house numbers etched in stone.
***
Get your copy of Roman Stories by Jhumpa Lahiri wherever books are sold.
Get ready to swoon, chuckle, and ponder with these heartwarming tales of love and romance. From chance encounters in paradise to relationships that make you go, “Hmm,” these stories will tickle your heart and leave you hungry for more.
World’s Best Girlfriend || Durjoy Datta
Daksh and Aanchal meet under improbable circumstances in the most unlikely of places-a posh resort in the Andamans. While Aanchal is fighting hard to escape the shackles of a lower middle-class existence, Daksh is aimless and unsure of what his future holds. Strangely, they are drawn to each other.
Four years later, when they meet again, Daksh’s world has crumbled around him. The burden of caring for his sick father and six-year-old sister has left him with little time for anything else. Yet, despite their diverging paths, Daksh and Aanchal find themselves reconnecting in unexpected ways. Their mutual attraction deepens.
Till now, fate has been pushing them together, but what will happen when they decide to take matters into their own hands? Will life be as they’ve imagined, or will destiny take even that away from them?
The Girl Who Kept Falling in Love || Rheea Mukherjee
When Kaya meets and falls deeply in love with a fellow activist from the very religious community the country is actively trying to erase, her twin purposes are miraculously aligned in an intoxicating combination that she becomes immediately fearful of losing. In the midst of spirited protests and rising violence, Kaya bears witness to vast human suffering while experiencing profound joy. It is time to make a choice. Kaya knows if she chooses love this time, she will betray everything she has claimed to believe in. If she is willing to do that, can Kaya truly be loved by the person she most desires?
Told through the lens of urban myths, accounts of past lovers, bared confessions and half-truths that make up Kaya’s world, The Girl Who Kept Falling in Love dives deep into the futilities of being attached to global aspiration and fighting institutionalized hate while chasing a universal need for love and acceptance.
A Touch of Eternity || Durjoy Datta
Born on the same day and at the same time, Druvan and Anvesha know they are soulmates in every sense of the word. Their parents, however, refuse to accept their ‘togetherness’ at first and try to tear them apart. Druvan and Anvesha hold on to each other against all odds.
In the same timeline, the world is on the brink of a major scientific breakthrough that could make reincarnation possible.
This is an opportunity for the two to prove their love and to tell the world that it is love that can make the impossible, possible.
Druvan and Anvesha participate in the experiment as if their life depends on it, because it does. Will the dream of a man to control love and life come true? And when the time comes, can one stay true to their soulmate?
If It’s Not Forever It’s Not Love || Durjoy Datta, Nikita Singh
To the everlasting power of love . . . When Deb, an author and publisher, survives the bomb blasts at Chandni Chowk, he knows his life is nothing short of a miracle. And though he escapes with minor injuries, he is haunted by the images and voices that he heard on that unfortunate day. Even as he recovers, his feet take him to where the blasts took place. From the burnt remains he discovers a diary. It seems to belong to a dead man who was deeply in love with a girl. As he reads the heartbreaking narrative, he knows that this story must never be left incomplete. Thus begins Deb’s journey with his girlfriend, Avantika, and his best friend, Shrey, to hand over the diary to the man’s beloved. Highly engrossing and powerfully told, If It’s Not Forever . . . tells an unforgettable tale of love and life.
Till the Last Breath || Durjoy Datta
When death is that close, will your heart skip a beat? Two patients are admitted to room no. 509. One is a brilliant nineteen-year-old medical student, suffering from an incurable, fatal disease. She counts every extra breath as a blessing. The other is a twenty-five-year-old drug addict whose organs are slowly giving up. He can’t wait to get rid of his body. To him, the sooner the better. Two reputed doctors, fighting their own demons from the past, are trying everything to keep these two patients alive, even putting their medical licences at risk. These last days in the hospital change the two patients, their doctors and all the other people around them in ways they had never imagined. Till the Last Breath is a deeply sensitive story that reminds us what it means to be alive.
Wish I Could Tell You || Durjoy Datta
A disillusioned and heartbroken Anusha finds herself in the small world of WeDonate.com. Struggling to cope with her feelings and the job of raising money for charity, she reluctantly searches for a worthwhile cause to support.
For Ananth, who has been on the opposite side, no life is less worthy, no cause too small to support.
Behind them are teams for whom going to extraordinary lengths to save lives is more than a full-time occupation. In front of them is the virtual world of social media-watching, interacting, judging, making choices, and sometimes, saving lives.
From the virtual to the real, their lives and that of their families, entangle in a way that moving together is the only solution. They can’t escape each other.
In this world of complicated relationships, should love be such a difficult ride?
Your Dreams are Mine Now || Ravinder Singh
‘It can’t be love . . .’ he thinks and immediately his heart protests
They are complete opposites! She’s a small-town girl who takes admission in Delhi University (DU). An idealist, studies are her first priority.He’s a Delhi guy, seriously into youth politics in DU. He fights to make his way. Student union elections are his first priority.
But then opposites attract as well!
A scandal on campus brings them together, they begin to walk the same path and somewhere along,
fall in love . . . But their fight against evil comes at a heavy price, which becomes the ultimate test of their lives. Against the backdrop of dominant campus politics, Your Dreams Are Mine Now is an innocent love story that will tug at your heartstrings.
It was Always You ||
Karan and Shruti are a happily married couple. Until Karan’s ex resurfaces into his life one day. Soon Karan finds himself getting nostalgic over matters of the heart and thinking fondly of his first romance. Will he put his steady and seemingly perfect marriage at stake for his ex-girlfriend?
Meanwhile his best friend Aditya finds his own relationship with his wife Jasmine going through an emotional turmoil. Will both friends work towards keeping their marriage afloat, or make a decision they would later regret?
You only live once || Stuti Changle
What if you ran away from your life today?
Twenty years later, three people are looking for you.
One is dying to meet you again.
The other wishes you had never met them.
The third wishes they could have met you at least once.
You are one person. Aren’t you? But you are not the same person to each of them.
Find the answers about your own life in this story about searching for love and discovering yourself. Join a broken but rising YouTube star Alara, a struggling but hopeful stand-up comedian Aarav, and a zany but zen beach shack owner Ricky. Together, take the journey to seek the truth behind the famous singer Elisha’s disappearance somewhere by the deep sea in Goa.
Will you be able to find Elisha? Or will you end up finding yourself?
Unlucky Aanchal turns the tables in Durjoy Datta‘s latest novel World’s Best Girlfriend. Winning a Mahindra Holidays trip to the Andamans could finally break her streak of bad luck and misfortune, but what happens when a charismatic stranger enters the scene? Get ready for a ride of fate, love, and unexpected twists!
Read this exclusive excerpt to know more about the meet-cute (or is it meet-not-so-cute?) You decide!
World’s Best Girlfriend || Durjoy Datta
***
Three months ago, a Mahindra Holidays employee had hounded me at Big Bazaar to fill up a contest form: One Lucky Winner Gets a Fully Paid Vacation to the Andamans!
We, the Madans, never fill out contest forms because we are the exact opposite of lucky. Everything we touch turns to ashes. It’s as if God didn’t shuffle the card deck before dealing them to us. All we got were cards of humiliation, frustration, despair and hunger.
A year after I was born, Papa’s new shop—Aanchal Stationery—closed down. A few months later, a tree fell on his scooter.
When I was three, Maa fell down while bathing me and has three crooked toes and a slightly unbalanced walk to remind her of that.
My younger brother’s birth was supposed to change the tide. He, too, failed. When I was four, I stepped on my brother’s hand and broke two of his fingers. He made it worse in the following months by getting sick too often and draining money on antibiotics, injections and visits to the emergency ward.
When I was eight, Papa’s second store—now named Ankit Stationery—shut shop.
Our family turned to religion. The pandits said, Griha bhari hain, once the stars align, we will bathe in cold and sleep in silk. Poojas and havans, rings on our fingers, lockets on our necks didn’t change our fortunes.
When religion didn’t work, we turned to academics. It was our last bastion: luck could be broken by the surety of mathematics, science, geography. For six years, I stood second in class and missed out on the school scholarship.
Maa’s stitching business lost money.
Papa got beaten up after his tuition students failed.
We lost our savings in the bank scam.
Mobiles were snatched from our hands.
We never once won anything in a contest or on a scratch card.
Until this Mahindra Holidays vacation.
Only because I filled up that form. I saw the resort on the pamphlet. I saw the people in the images. It was everything I wanted.
Our conversation is cut short by a boy’s compelling, booming voice.
‘Amit, Daksh here, it’s my first time with Mahindra Holidays. I’m so glad you’re trying to get the rooms ready for us. We really appreciate that,’ he says in his gravelly, husky voice. ‘But we have some old people in the group with low blood sugar, and my sister is too young to be waiting this long.’
His voice is deep, like it’s coming from inside a cave. It reverberates inside my rib cage even though he’s ten yards away from me. I stand on my toes to get a good look at him, but all I can see is his floppy hair.
‘I understand—’
‘You absolutely don’t, Amit, or you would have given us a correct time estimate earlier. Now, one of two things is going to happen. Either all of us are going to the restaurant and we’ll have a long, leisurely breakfast for free till you get things sorted here, or all of us are going to post reviews on Tripadvisor and Google with heartbreaking images to go with it. I promise you, Amit, I will make the old people lie down here and photograph them as if they are dying.’
The confused crowd mumbles in agreement.
Amit’s smile slowly disappears and a frown settles in.
He tells the group that he will talk to the management and get back to us in fifteen minutes. It doesn’t take him that long.
‘The restaurant is straight ahead and then right,’ Amit informs us dryly, his voice devoid of any enthusiasm. ‘Mahindra Holidays is always working to deliver your best vacation.’
Free breakfast.
Maa squeezes my arm excitedly.
‘That boy’s clever,’ whispers Maa.
‘Not clever,’ I respond. ‘Just rich. Had I paid for this vacation, I would have fought too.’
‘You just said we deserve to be here, Didi,’ taunts Ankit. ‘You could have fought. Instead, you were very happily having welcome drinks.’
‘Shut up.’
‘Maybe our luck’s changing,’ says Papa, brightly.
I shake my head to warn him. Papa is the only optimist among the four of us, even though he has suffered from the legendary bad luck of the Madans the most. He should know better than anyone that whenever things seem to go our way, something goes wrong. Over the years, we have learned to not laugh a lot, or allow ourselves to be very happy. The law of averages works against us.
We follow the hotel staff to the restaurant. That’s when I see the boy for the first time. He’s in a loose black T-shirt and a pair of black shorts. His hair is glorious, falling over his ears. He is the colour of wet sand, his jawline is jagged, and he has a high forehead. He’s handsome in a way boys are when they are just turning into men. I first think he’s carrying a bag in his hand. When I look closely, I see it’s a little girl. He’s carrying her like a sack, and she’s bobbing, giggling and squealing happily in his grip. He’s carrying her as though she weighs nothing. When he turns, I see his eyes. There’s a sense of surety in them, a sense of danger, a sense of entitlement and definitely, arrogance.
***
Get your copy of World’s Best Girlfriend by Durjoy Datta wherever books are sold.
