The 5 things to keep in mind while writing a nonfiction blog post are:
That’s the kind of sentence I would start my answers with in school when I couldn’t think of an appropriate introduction. Don’t worry, the rest of the post isn’t going to be inspired by my high school self. Let’s get to it, shall we?
A sound jarred me awake. Heart thundering in my chest, I tried to put myself back to sleep but the sound, like a saw mutely but determinedly cutting through wood, wouldn’t let me. So I got off the bed, needing to see what the fuss was about.
She knew it was a special occasion because the brilliant blue dress was coming out of the vintage trunk for airing. Laid out next to it were the blue jewels that went with the dress. And oh, the necklace fashioned in the image of the Hope diamond was also coming out! It must indeed be an important guest. Mr. Brickwell was going all out it seemed.
In the deep of night
When the stars shine bright
In the early morn
As dew drops glitter
On a busy afternoon
I hear your heart’s song
Long forgotten…half remembered
A melody that dances
A memory that bursts forth.
On a balmy evening
As the sun bids its adieu
And the birds sing a farewell
I remember you.
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Blurb: Siraj discovers a dark secret lurking in his family’s past, which he must unravel to reconstruct the truth about his own identity and roots. Destiny leads Siraj to the land where he was born, to uncover the secret of his family’s past that lay buried within the annals of its history. Mrinal, on the other hand undertakes a trip to Bangladesh as the journey of his lifetime: a land which he had had to leave behind amidst the fire of communal violence in 1950, post the Partition of India.
There was only one way to solve the mystery. I had thought and eliminated every other way. But this was the fastest way to get to the bottom of who had perpetrated the crime.
And that way was to hold your standard corporate boardroom meeting.
Blurb: Hawkers of Kolkata is an effort to treasure fond memories of experiences with people who we interact with on a daily basis. Before they are forgotten, before they become a rarer sight, I wanted to re-live those days. Covering many markets across Kolkata, the book will take you back to the pleasant days of childhood. A must read for all the 90s kids.
I saw mummy kissing Santa Claus. I did. Well, not Santa, but some fat bearded dude, who wasn’t my dad. I closed my eyes, thinking I was dreaming. When I reopened them, the man was still there and so was mummy and they were…doing…adult stuff which I was sure I wasn’t supposed to see so I turned around.
My husband and I were an intellectual pair. We were together because we didn’t interfere with the other’s work and we had a handsome companion on our hand for social events people in our position were required to frequent.
The only thing I asked of him was fidelity and the only thing he asked of me was to maintain my good looks. He obliged me and I obliged him. It was the perfect marriage.