Book review- Is This Love and Automn- The Last Leaf

BOOK REVIEW

Is This Love and Autumn- The Last Leaf

SYNOPSIS:

The book is compiled of two stories "Is This Love" and "Autumn- the last leaf". Both the stories, though quite different, revolve around friendship and love.

'Is This Love' is the story of how two friends find the love of their lives in each other. Vishaal (notice the double 'a') and Sheetal are liberal youngsters who live together in the same house, though never having got physically close. The two have been together for each other in the highs and lows of their lives and that has eventually led them to fall for the other, secretly. They realise this only after the entry of Aman in Sheetal's life. Caught in her own perplexity, Sheetal decides it's too late for her to revert back and ends up marrying Aman. As their journey unfolds, you will see the different shades of love that color the lives of the three. I'm not going to give the end away and spoil the fun of reading the book for you guys, but yes, the end left me the reader satisfied.

'Autumn- the last leaf' is more of a thriller entwined with love and friendship. The story starts with Neha's dream where she sees that her friend Kathy is in danger. Neha often sees such dreams which later come true. A series of events that follow make Neha realise that she is indefinitely in love with Kedar. But Kedar marries Samiksha, a charming woman and a good wife to Kedar. However, an unfortunate even in Kedar's life brings Neha back to him again. But as hard as she tries, she cannot get Kedar out of mourning. She finally decides to let her lust rule. But how close can she really get? Somewhere, Neha's dream holds the key to those unanswered events. The havoc of an obsessive love has been presented by the Author in a very believable manner.

CHARACTER SKETCH:

I liked the character of Vishaal, from the first story. He was an understanding, caring and a composed person. Sheetal, on the other hand, I could not much relate to. The author has formed her character thoughtfully and tried to make her more like the contemporary girl, and yet there were times when I wanted to shout through the book to tell her to get a spine. The characters of the second book are more relateable I think. The conflict that Neha goes through, her thoughts and her feelings are radiated through the book to the reader. Allowing Samiksha to be this beautiful person that the author has made her, was a good choice I think.

NARRATION:

If you have a O' Henry or a Nicholas sparks book in mind when you begin reading this, get rid of those suppositions. Go read this book without any expectation EXCEPT to just enjoy two beautiful stories, sitting by the window on a rainy evening. The author has used a very simple english to narrate these stories to her readers. I liked the parts where she has given a larger meaning to some smaller acts. Like when Sheetal's tear falls on a card she's reading, given by Vishaal, and it falls just where Vishaal's tear had fallen when he'd been writing the card, thus uniting the two forever- extracts the author.
I wouldn't say it was a very powerful narration, but a narration which could hold you onto the book and leave you wanting to know more as the story unfolds. Just don't compare the book with any other book of the same genre. It's not meant to be that way, the author has only intended telling you a story through her perception, her eyes. And she's done that well.

VERDICT:
I'd call it simple but intriguing.

Visit Arti Honrao's page here

An interview with Arti shall be coming up soon, so stay tuned!

Paragons of virtue- Story of a Mardani

This is the story of a woman of substance. A woman, who rose to defend her identity in the male dominant society that we live in. A woman who had found love in a man, and then chose to kill it ; because there was another love she had to protect. A woman I call MARDANI.

She is a Christian. She loved a Muslim. Religious differences could not keep them apart. In the society that we Indians live in today, marrying your daughters off in another religion is still not readily accepted, she was aware. But she had found love and she wasn't letting go.

And that's my Tale #WOW post #UBC (day 6)

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.Write Over the Weekend inspiration for this time-Your life is going to be made into a novel! Write an introduction for this novel. How will you creatively reflect on your life spent?

_____________________________

She went across the fields to avoid the straight highways, only to find firing lines longed with people shooting at the cost of their lives, and hills converted to crosses. Like a shadow of the day she reached her place and looked down at the cross with her name inscribed on it. When the firing ends, she thought to herself, there will be somebody who comes to these graves in search of a life. To him, she must do justice. She must guide, enlighten and awaken them through a new world and gift them the spirit of the love and hope. And he, the wanderer, shall give birth to this new world. 

A writer's plight

      This is a post linking to Rochelle's 100 words photo prompt. As a part of Friday Fictioners, I had to write a post related, however loosely, to this photo. Read on :)                                      



                                                  


Her mind exploded, the cool wind caressing her hair. She held her face in her palms, resting them on her knees. The pages of her book fluttered one after the other, all unveiling her vacuousness. Poorva, the protagonist in her book was dying and she had no way to save her.




She sat there wondering. She should not have let a character she made up come so close to her heart to let her fill up all her voids. Lighting a match stick to a gasper, she inhaled. The shag hit her hard.

Looking down at the xyst she felt herself sinking. Deeper. Deeper. Until she reached the paramount. It was now time to open her fists.

She collected all her senses and looked up only to see the entire town spread below her. The blank pages started to be filled with scribbles.