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A Bachelor in Goa

Towards the end of our wanderings, the soul’s yearning is to record the lyrics of the song that was the joie de vivre of life. Here in this delightful memoir, a number of extraordinary incidents have been recalled in a manner which make them more scintillating in retrospect.

Two years may not be a long time, but in Goa the days are so stretched out that supplementary phaenomena can find room, and, as such, the basket may fill up faster.

What was a soliloquy has now become a dialogue between the writer and the reader.

Petrichor Publications

Petrichor Publications is the newly launched books publishing company that is promoted by Syed Rizwan, the go-to man of this website. Henceforth, all books of Syed, as well as others will be published by earthy Petrichor Publications. In this context, two contemporary novels are in the finishing room. Some excerpts would be shared here pretty soon. Cheers!

This is in the making

Prologue

It was a mid-October night; the chill in the air had penetrated the kurta the hakim had worn, to freeze one of those dreams he often had of his friend who was no more. He loved to cling to those dreams where the pygmy witch-doctor played the lead character. But even in that exalted state, he realised he had to wrap himself in a bedspread, else the unfriendly weather would take its toll. He stirred himself and, as was the norm, smelt leftover of burnt paraffin wax that lingered, not until the sunrays had vaporised it out of the window.

Munawwar Husain alias Munna Hakim gripped the handle to lift the heavy lid of the rosewood hutch cabinet with his left hand and with the other groped for the bedspread. While his subconscious mind guided the right hand, the conscious one reminded him he had to visit Dr. Barton in the morning. Kabir, his friend, Iskandar’s son, needed backup support to make good his desire to marry the doctor’s daughter. He could not procrastinate that strategic meeting, for he did not want Kabir to return in disappointment to his farm.

 ‘This should be it,’ he said to himself as his fingers blindly examined the softness of the handloom spread the vendor from Burhanpur brought. He pulled that out, diligently rested the cover, and returned to bed as he had to salvage the sleeping hours to undertake the precarious job in the morning.

Kabir Shah’s three sisters and his other family friends had got married one after the other, but he was still a bachelor because a few things complicated his matrimonial configuration. His elders had not attended to this obligatory duty because they knew the nucleus of his ardour was a white, Christian girl whose family had arrived from England not so long ago.

 The hakim had sensed this was not exactly a love story, but he owed to his long-time friend to perk the spirit of his love-struck son and also to convince the doctor that this would prove to be a satisfactory match. The first part posed no problems, but the latter had many hurdles, for there were racial, religious, and cultural impediments, and, to heighten the bar, the nation was also heading straight into a confrontation that would test those man-raised barriers.

Munna Hakim was among the few who knew the freedom struggle was not yet over and the coming days would witness a long drawn combat between a bare-handed mass and an armoured contingent hungry for retribution. It was not clear what lay in the future, but he believed another bradawl was looming large.

Hi there!

I have posted nothing for days out here. The chief reason being that have been busy with composing/editing matter that is going to come here, hopefully soon. Rest assured, you’ll have many excerpts to read of my upcoming book that is a sequel to Survivors of a Mutiny. Cheers and have a good day!

If it was not for morality…

If it was not for morality, the most rewarding life would that be of a drugs baron. By any calculations, a worthy recompense of leading a righteous life cannot be bestowed here in this world because out here others are still undergoing the trial of their worthiness. Intermingling a recipient of the reward with those who are still struggling would throwback the already qualified man to the muddy soak pit where he will be at risk of getting sullied once again. As such, a worthy man has to make a clean break from this tantalizingly fantastic world.

Suggest

I am currently writing a sequel to ‘Survivors of a Mutiny’ published in 2018. In this story Kabir, son of a big-time farmer, wants to marry Angela, daughter of an English doctor during the period of the British Raj. The doctor doesn’t think it’s a great idea because, as per him, it is not such a good match. Kabir’s love pursuit is further spoiled by the skirmishes Indian folks are intermittently having with the ruling British forces which are affecting the growing differences. Though Angela would love to rule at the farm, she is circumspect about jumping into a new alliance in a recently adopted country.

So how can we bring the odd couple together? Need your suggestions, please.