Archive for the ‘Emotional’ Category



New Dawn is the debut novel of 15 year old, Indrani Das Bora. Things change: people, friends, love, life and even enemies, or should I say rivals. Metamorphosis is a part of this universe we reside in. Mostly because a pinch of change in relationships might end up changing our lives forever. And this is what the main theme of New Dawn is: Metamorphosis; that people change; from rivals to friends; from underdogs to bullies. But this is not like any other tale of friendship-tragedy-enmity-tragedy-help-friends forever. Nobody here actually knows the reason for one hating the other: neither I.D. nor N.B. (who are the protagonists). The novel mostly focuses on school life and its fancies, from bad friends to boyfriends, from underdogs to cool dudes. Through her minute observations Indrani embroidered in her novel the complexity, selfishness, competition and jealousy etc among the students which are at times indirectly insisted by circumstances. New Dawn can be cited as a conglomeration of prose and poetry. Arranged into 20 chapters, debutant I.D. Bora show cases the unseen scene of a rival counselling another rival. New Dawn takes us to a roller coaster ride into the private, individual worlds two students of multifaceted qualities which is superimposed by some complex character that reveals deep insecurities and yet pave the way for forgiveness and reconciliation. New Dawn is a vibrant example of a simple, crisp and humorous plot being arranged in an innovative way.

It can be bought through:



Read Full Post »

There runs an ocean of friends by you

Where in the middle, you’re the island of refuge.

This ocean gushes and growls

Gulping all on its way but you.

And not a droplet nigh you

Not an inch drenched with love.

Seldom‘t comes over you and goes

Like seconds of bonding elevated to hours.

‘T makes you feel

 Boasting a rock for heart

And heavy…….

For loneliness is then you feel

Not when you’re alone

Yet when your friends are all gone.

Read Full Post »

It was a Sunday morning; an as usual Sunday morning. I casually sat in the park, enjoying the sight of many young and old that came for evening walks or to work out their fats.  ‘My fats will never burn even if I do hundred push-ups a day’ I thought. My eyes scanned the entire area-greenery amongst concrete. That is when I spotted this girl- Niharika. I didn’t know her then though she was my neighbor  She came with her mother, clasping her mother’s hand like a tiny tot at my age. At first it seemed a bit amusing. Her mother led her to a nearby bench- made her sit and she left to join her friends circle. She sat there, her head turning from left to right. Her hanky slipped down. She didn’t notice that. I guess she was busy in her own world. So, I duly went and picked it up.  I think she ignored me too.

“Excuse me, you’re hanky” I said, as politely as etiquette demands. She held out her hand in response. I sat beside her. She had beautiful brown eyes that matched well with her fair complexion.

“Hello-”, I began, “I’m Tania. What’s your name?”

“I don’t talk with strangers” she retorted looking away from me

“We can be friends…”

She sat still. As if I was akin to any other abiotic component. My touchy nature would not let me forget and forgive this insult (not exactly one). ‘Do what you want! Sit alone in this park and I don’t care!’  My mind hauled over the coals.

Days flew by. And contrary to what I had stated earlier, that incident faded away gradually.

It was a social gathering held in one of our neighbor’s house. I had no interest in visiting such parties. But that day, the extent to which my sister pissed me was at its utmost limit and she was successful in removing the ‘unsocial’ tag from me.

The house was so cramped up. I wonder why ladies held such activities in their miniature bungalows in no other attempt but to showcase their affluence. And comically there was no trace of mosquitoes while it was a rainy day. How will they survive if they get in?

I sat in one of the corners alone for a few minutes until my chum came over.

“Hey, how’s on?”  , she asked

“Fine. School’s hectic although” I replied.

As we were in the middle of our conversation, that ‘I-don’t-talk-with-strangers’ girl entered. As usually, she was accompanied by her mother. She was donned in an oblong yellow dress. How weird.

“Poor girl” my chum sympathized

“Poor? Doesn’t seem so.”

“Not in that way but…she’s blind”

That was the shock of my life. She was blind. Whatever she did, the way she behaved, what she wore had only one reason behind them-the fact that she was blind. She had beautiful eyes which didn’t serve their actual purpose. She didn’t even know how she looked. She never saw and could not see this beautiful but cruel world. She was BLIND. I suppose that was the worst irregular conjugation I had and will ever make in my life. That day was a turning point, a vantage point to check my judgments.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts

Sparks of life

where the unspoken words get expressed


Everything you can imagine is real. - Pablo Picasso

Chaotic Shapes

Art and Lifestyle by Brandon Knoll

A Holistic Journey

Finding my way back out of motherhood -- while mothering


Daily Thoughts and Meditations as we journey together with our Lord.

Sourav's Digital Marketing Notes

Google Certified Digital Marketer

Erratic Expeditions

A Journey Of Thoughts


A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.

Implied Spaces

Between Realities

We Listen To Mary Magdalene (Lady Nada)

Just another WordPress.com site

Literally Patti Murin

Like literally, I'm Patti Murin.


Mailart ideas

Books by Sharmishtha Basu

My (e) Books in Amazon Kindle n Createspace

Write Science

A collaborative project to practice the craft of communicating scientific ideas.


My life as a psychologist


Mental health blog by a service user with bipolar disorder. Winner of the Mark Hanson Awards for Digital Media at the Mind Media Awards 2013 and the Mood Disorder category in the 2012 This Week in Mentalists Awards.


where memory being created....