Author: admin

I wrote my first sentence to start my story telling journey in 2005. By 2007, my first book was complete after many, many iterations. The next thing to do was to publish it. I had no clue how to do that. So I went about researching on how to get my book out there to my readers.

I did not know of any other authors. Nor did I know agents. In fact, to my limited knowledge, I could not find a single literary agent in India. At least, not on google. There were any number of websites asking for a manuscripts, blurbs, short synopsis, long synopsis, medium sized, extra large, blah, blah, blah!

I sent them my work in every permutation and combination that they asked for and to every publishing house website there was for Indian writing.

No response.

At that time, I did not know about the slush pile – the flood of submissions that writers upload into the publishing websites and send as physical copies to publishing houses. I even went to a few publishers who asked for me to deliver the manuscript to them. They did not find value in it. Or did not have time to read it. This or that.

The thing about the slush pile is that no one wants to read it. No one wants to look at it. Every publisher with a website will announce that they are open for submissions. But…no one wants to review the submissions. No one even wants to look at them. No one. Not interested. It’s more of an ego trip to keep a count of the submissions in the slush pile. And the writers, (especially the first time guys) wait with hope in their heart and a sparkle in their eye. For weeks, months, years.

The best part is, the sites very clearly tell you to follow up if you don’t hear from them. So sweet, right? No one cares if you follow up. They just like to keep the writer hooked. Sadistic but true. Thus I traveled on, not knowing what to do until in the year 2015 one publisher agreed to publish my work. They said, they would be happy to publish the first part provided I buy back some books at a certain price.

In other words, they were asking me to self-publish. I did. I admit. I should not have. And today, I make it a point to tell every other writer I meet who wants to get published not to self-publish. The publisher has no buy-in. They don’t care. They have no stake in it.

From the time I started writing my book to the time I published it, ten years had gone by. A whole ten years. Wasted? Or lesson learnt? If so, to what end? But I had bought a ticket. I had boarded the train. Looking back, I am amazed.

To be continued…

#authorindianwritingcomedyfictionbookswriterinstawriterreadersofinstagramgoodreads

So, COVID-19 took the world by a storm. Now there’s news (or is it a conspiracy theory?) by a Nobel prize winning scientist who first helped discover AIDS that COVID-19 is man made and was developed by a Chinese laboratory in Wuhan to fight AIDs but escaped by ‘accident’.

If the whistleblower was a Chinese man, he would have been imprisoned, sliced and diced and made to disappear without a trace. And then when things get out of hand maybe China would concede to the mishap, like they did while declaring an epidemic after the whole world already figured it out.

But he isn’t a Chinese man, therefore Montagnier is requesting China to be graceful about it and accept the fact. The story will unfold in the days to come.

In the meanwhile, we in India are in a COVID-19 instigated lock down. That is, those of us who believe that they are not invincible, unkillable, irreplacable, irresponsible, callous, foolish, idiotic, brain dead pieces of **** are under lock down. A few have shown first signs of blooming dementia and others have started talking to their cats. In fact when I mentioned this to my dog on the phone the other day, we had a good laugh.

On the home front, I was about to head back home to Delhi from Mumbai when the lock down took effect, I am still in Mumbai. My wife is in Delhi with our two dogs. She says they are having long and enriching conversations about the facts of life. While in Germany, I was told by a friend who lives there that there is no lock down and all the Norse Gods are roaming around as if it was Asgard.

Good for them!

Kindle versions of my latest book, ‘Fear of God’, are selling well. I am happy for it. I signed a movie deal for the book barely two months after its release. Needless to say, I am absolutely thrilled about it. Its a dream come true. I guess I have no clear idea when the movie will be made given the situation, but I am hoping it will be sooner rather than later. In other news, I took part in India’s first online Literature Festival which lasted the whole of last week. 600 authors took part in it. It was on ZOOM and was cast on Facebook live. It was, to say the least, a very enriching and heartwarming experience.

Finally, I am working from home. It can be fun since I am as it is a homie. Don’t much like venturing out unless it is absolutely important. Hey, that’s a writer’s hallmark. But then, I also work for a living and that used to make me venture out, suited and booted. Not anymore. But I do missing going to our office, meeting my colleagues at work and having a light lunch in our lavish cafeteria.

The world has changed. The shift was not gradual. It was immediate and drastic. All the things we took for granted, like eating from a street vendor’s stall, Ubering it, jamming into an elevator with colleagues to travel 29 floors, all of it has changed. Forever? Maybe not, but for a long time. So what is the change going to be like? How will the existing order of things be replaced? How long is it going to take to adapt to the new conditions?

There’s only one thing I know. Those who adapt are those who succeed. Those who resist will be left behind. The only constant in life, is change. And while we are at it, also remember…This Too Shall Pass!

Be safe. Stay healthy. Stay at home!

Love you all,

Vadhan

The art of writing a review of a book is really a difficult one. It is. It involves the fine art of balancing between your views and opinions and that of the author. But, the more important aspect is having a command over the language. After all, you cannot really write your views and opinions using a thin armory of vocabulary. Importantly, it is also critical that you know the meaning of the words you employ.

In India today, reviewers are mushrooming faster than rabbits can make babies. Faster than the Novel Coronavirus can spread across the globe. Faster even than the speed of rumor. Reviewers are throwing themselves at authors who’s books have been just released. Some ask for money for reviews while others promise to do it for free if the author can only give them a free copy of the book. If it is really love for reading, then buy a book, review it without bias and feel proud about it.

What’s wrong with sponsored reviews?

People who have no love for reading, or appreciating the finer aspects of writing, review books because it’s turned into a lucrative trade for them. Others offer bulk reviewing services at fixed costs. The genuine readers and their all-important views are lost in the melee. Reviewing has lost its sanctity.

The short cut to reviewing a book these days by ‘professional reviewers’ is to compare it with some other book or worst still, a movie. How can one compare a book to a movie? The entire process is different. That is why when a book is made into a movie, it’s called ‘movie adaptation’. The book is redone, there is a script and a screenplay. They do not know the pains an author goes through to choose every word, frame every thought and write every sentence in a book. They don’t know how it is to write, how to read and how to enjoy a book. They are in fast mode, writing as many reviews as they can for their respective aggregators.

If an opinion is important, where is the sanctity if that opinion is biased? What is the sanctity of a review if it is stage-managed?

Hi Guys,

My new book Fear of God is out in Amazon.in and bookstores across the country. Here is the link:

https://www.amazon.in/Fear-God-Vadhan/dp/9389237084/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=fear+of+god+vadhan&qid=1579577365&sr=8-1

A Brief Synopsis

The brutal murder of a member of parliament has rocked the nation. The reason for the murder appears bizarre.

As videos of the slaughter of several corrupt politicians go viral on social media, those who considered themselves untouchable are scurrying for cover.

The vigilante’s next target is a war-hero and top constitutional lawyer who took three bullets for the country.

Why then is he a target ?

Jagan Jigyasi and his Special Crimes Division of the CBI have to race against time to stop the killings.

The Legendary lawman has never failed to solve a crime.

The war-hero is as brilliant in court as he is fearless facing a bullet.

The vigilante is as devious as he is effective in instilling the Fear of God into those who think they are above the law!

Who will be the last man standing?

#mystery #legalthriller #India #murdermyster #political #story #thriller #novel

Writing this on the 30th of December. I would go as far as to call this particular note more in the nature of unbridled thought flow. Or ranting. Is it the same thing? (Shrugs!)

One day left before January rears its bright new head at the world. One more day.

Will it bring about a difference? To some, positively. To others, not so much. Does it matter in the long run? I don’t think so. The universe moves on. Expanding. Creating life as it creates new paths. Going beyond what is to what needs to be. Inexorably moving. Unmindful of the tiny speck of dust that we live on. Worrying only about the larger scheme of things. How large they are, what they represent and what goal they serve is beyond our reach. We are a species riddled only with questions.

January will be here though. And we will pass into ‘another year’ labelled with four digits. What’s more the last two digits will be changed. People will say that the millennium is out of its teens and for the next ten years January will herald single digit changes ‘tracking’ the progress of a young adult. Then the millennium will become a mature adult. But when I pause to think, it appears to me that all of it is simply illusion.

What is the sanctity of the labelled year? What does it signify? Only that we started counting very late in the day. Our ancestors and their calculations, be it Hindu, Egyptian, Christian or many others  were also late in commencing to count. We don’t really know what transpired before we did start counting. Or what will transpire after we as a species stop counting.

Will it matter which year it really is? To whom will it matter in the universe? Or in the galaxy, or even in our solar system? We count doggedly, nevertheless. The futility of it all! (Shrugs)

Random thoughts! These. Do my thoughts even make sense to anyone but me? Do they make sense to me? (I guess they do to me, at some abstract, altruistic level). The universe moves on. Trudging sometimes, careening sometimes. Knocking over entire galaxies into each other, blowing out some stars, lighting up new ones. Experimenting. Like we do with our lives. Makes me agree with someone or the other that we are miniature models of the vastness in which we live.

And thus we experiment. January’s experiments are resolutions. February’s experiments are a little more serious. March’s experiments will be about investments and tax savings. April will be spent drawing up new budgets, targets to achieve and so forth. In between all of that we forget the universe and its ever expanding size and its grand plans and live our lives like we will never die. And when we do die, we are snuffed out, most of us. Erased, as if we never lived. We leave no mark behind. No legacy.

Except counting days from our start line to our finish line in years.

However, January will never stop rearing its bright head. Again and again. Over and over.

The universe will go on expanding. Again and again. Over and over.

Vadhan

Hello my friends,

Here I am again. Been a very busy time. An industrious time. Well spent time with people worth spending it with. I have learnt a lot in the last few months. How hard working people are. How good it is to be with people who appreciate hard work. How it is to walk with professionals who know their craft.

This has also been a time of reflection. A time of retrospection of what I am and what I value. This has been a time of identification of what people are worth to me and how ungrateful and worthless some people have turned out to be.

I have written three books in these intervening months. I am writing my fourth one. Of these one is getting published and will be launched in early 2020! I am very excited about the book. This has been by far the best experience I have had with a publisher thus far. That is a fact.

And there are some people who have broken my heart. Their avaricious nature and capricious conduct was devastating. If an enemy where to attack me, I can reach out to a friend for help. But when a friend stabbed me in the back,  it left me lurching, hurting, stumbling, reaching out for the knife still jutting out of the middle of my back. Unable to pry it loose. Unable to call out for help!

It left me shamefaced in the presence of people who believed I could deliver on a promise.

Such is life!

But…there are things to look forward to. I moved on. Left the hurt behind. No use carrying it. Life doesn’t have to wait for those who are not worth waiting for. They are of no consequence. Let them be. There is no place in your life for them. Thus, I am wiser and happier for their wounds have healed leaving behind only the lessons learnt.

So, my friends, here I am, all ready for a happy moment when yet another of my children is introduced into the literary world.

Catch you around!

Vadhan

The FCPA is a law with extra-terrestrial reach. Which means that though it is an American law (brought into being in 1977 as a reaction to the Watergate scam), it applies to bribing a ‘foreign official’.

The UK bribery Act  is a draconian law. It applies to UK but relates to bribing government officials through out the world.

The Prevention of Corruption law in India has been amended in 2018. The most significant change is to construe that not only a bribe taker but also a bribe giver is  considered as having a committed a crime.

Every country is increasing the vigil against corruption and bribery. Yet the magnitude of frauds, corruption, bribery and lawlessness is always on the rise. Is law failing? Do the corruptors and the corrupted have no fear of law?

If there is no fear of law, what will they fear?

Watch this page for my next book…

So many things have happened in the last few months. A time of great uncertainty has come to an end. It’s true what they say about a door closing just to let another open for you. There’s only one condition to it.

I must keep my bowl of knowledge empty, or at least as empty as possible. I must not let the knowledge already acquired bog me down so I cannot absorb the change. Because, change is the only constant. Not all changes bring about good tidings but by its very nature, change will bring about new perspectives whereas stagnation will only destroy. That’s its nature.

Thus it was that I understood people I aligned with were not what I needed but what I deserved at that point. I was looking for a shortcut, I guess. Shortcuts don’t work. Ever. Those very people and their ill treatment of my trust and intellect instigated me towards the change that I so desperately needed.

Necessity is the mother of invention. They necessitated the change that I needed. These people. They pushed me towards it. I thank them because in their conceit and haughtiness, they actually did me a good turn. If they had shown me even the smallest kindness, I would still be stagnating today.

Six months later, looking back at those days of agony when everything I worked for had slipped from my hands into the hands of incompetents who ultimately destroyed it, I am glad I met them. These people. They proved incapable of handling my legacy. Hence, the knowledge and inflow they grabbed from me in what they thought was a clever deal became illusory as it had to. It disappeared like dew in a desert.

I am in a new city now among peers who respect me for what I am and place their trust in me. I know. This too will pass. I am hoping that this time it will be for the better.

I am hoping.

Change is constant.

I am away from loved ones. I get to see them only for weekends and sometimes not for months on end. The price of lethargy? Or were my stars pissing on me? Or both, perhaps? Can’t say.

But now, I am able to provide for those I love. I see the smiles on their faces and that’s enough. When we meet, to me its a festival. My heart sours. When I miss them, well, the love springs forth. Shining. Knowing that distance doesn’t mean a thing.

And in all this, three of my writing projects are underway. I am glad for it. Here I am, leaning on the rails of the french windows of my apartment, watching the vehicles whizzing past me, the cool sea breeze caressing my brow, a cup of hot tea in one hand, a cigarette, unlit, in the other day. The smile on my lips is small, just a hint. It reflects the peace inside.

Love,

Vadhan

He wouldn’t fight for me. He wouldn’t fight me either. He said so. His own words. Of what use can he be to me? That’s what I thought at that time. I was looking for an army. I was looking for men to fight by my side. I was fighting for what was rightfully mine, no matter the justifications my enemies piled up for this war.

I went to him because of his stature. Because they said he could do the impossible. Everyone I knew had oodles of respect for this man. Me, I didn’t think much of him, but I am no fool. There’s no smoke without fire, right? Yes, he did try to broker peace. Well, peace is peace only if I am at peace with the terms. Otherwise, it’s just me burning on a slow flame. It didn’t work out. I didn’t want it to work out.

Peace should be lasting. Not a keg of explosives with a long fuse. That’s not peace. That’s simply biding time. Only one way. Decimate the enemy. Leave no trace behind. As long as the usurpers existed, peace was not an option. That was my line of thinking.

It hasn’t changed. Not even now when I am on my last breath and he is standing over me, his eyes twinkling, his smile gentle, soothing.

Defeated, dying, my legs shattered, my ego destroyed, I know now I never had a chance. From the moment the dice rolled, it was loaded against me. Literally. I just did not see it that way.

My breathing grows harsher. My eyes are dimming. I haven’t much time left in this world.

He addressed me. Krishna. In his gentle coaxing voice. His flute nestling in the palm of his hand.

He said, “Repent and you can go in peace.”

“You cheated, Krishna,” I cried. “You cheated. How can you cheat? How can you take sides? How can you ask that brute, Bheema, to attack me below the waist? Where is the honour in that?”

Krishna shrugged. “Where was your sense of honour, Duryodhan, when you gambled for your brother’s wife? Where was your honour when you wanted to disrobe her before a full court?”

My eyes fall to the ground. He turns away. A wave of sorrow engulfs me. But only for a moment…

#fantasyfiction #fictionwriters #speculativefiction #India #Life #Mythology

The die is cast,

The route is set,

I will go on though nothing is left,

I move on, marching onward

my eyes never dulling for I am looking forward.

Let no one be fooled, or else fool me,

The worst thing for you is that I am free,

I will flourish, rise I will, you’ll see,

Though your selfishness had grounded me.

My dharma rises like a tidal wave,

Until it towers high above your measly grave,

Now that I have broken your callous embrace

My freeom ensures you are no longer in the race.