Kulpreet Yadav's Blog - Posts Tagged "indian-fiction"
The Man at the Window by Kulpreet Yadav (short fiction, second person narrative)
Before you leave for the office, you walk towards the bedroom window, naked, the light swallowing you. You hold your breath for a few seconds, letting your eyes adjust to the blinding light, sensing the suspense build. Is anyone watching from their cars on the bridge not far away, or from a closed window of the building across that is deceptively dark? The anticipation is excruciating. You turn and stare at the stranger in the bed. It’s her room and she is asleep.
Is anyone willing to notice you standing at the window? Will someone you love, on another day, equally bright, be sitting in a car on the bridge across and waiting for a nude man to emerge at the window?
It’s time to go.
Outside the door when you enter the lift it feels cold, perhaps it is the spent libido, you imagine, the heat that has been dissipated, the calories spent.
*
You return to your house and peek into the other room where your wife is sleeping. A used condom on the bedside table catches your eye. You look at her face, in sleep she looks happy, as if the man who fucked her while you were away, has fulfilled her dream to be in love. Is she doing this for money? You don’t remember giving her any in the last six months. You dig into your pocket and pull out the wad of notes the woman you visited had refused.
There is no space on the bedside table: napkins, lipstick tray, books and the spent condom. You place the wad on the condom and are happy as the money hides it. Money, you smile, what all it can hide, or find for that matter.
*
Read the full story at http://www.indianshortfiction.com/sho...
Is anyone willing to notice you standing at the window? Will someone you love, on another day, equally bright, be sitting in a car on the bridge across and waiting for a nude man to emerge at the window?
It’s time to go.
Outside the door when you enter the lift it feels cold, perhaps it is the spent libido, you imagine, the heat that has been dissipated, the calories spent.
*
You return to your house and peek into the other room where your wife is sleeping. A used condom on the bedside table catches your eye. You look at her face, in sleep she looks happy, as if the man who fucked her while you were away, has fulfilled her dream to be in love. Is she doing this for money? You don’t remember giving her any in the last six months. You dig into your pocket and pull out the wad of notes the woman you visited had refused.
There is no space on the bedside table: napkins, lipstick tray, books and the spent condom. You place the wad on the condom and are happy as the money hides it. Money, you smile, what all it can hide, or find for that matter.
*
Read the full story at http://www.indianshortfiction.com/sho...
Kulpreet Yadav was quoted in The Guardian, UK, in a news report on Indian thrillers
Kulpreet Yadav, whose new book describes the “life-threatening journey” of a young reporter investigating the death of a country lawyer, said that he wanted to create a character “who reflects the young Indian male today”.
Read more --> http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014...
Read more --> http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014...
The power of a good novel -- Kulpreet Yadav's thoughts
Like I said last evening 'A film is a novel with limbs.' While a film reaches out and we have little chance of escaping, a novel allows us to discover it. And in the process, often, we find ourselves. That's the power of a good novel.
Kulpreet Yadav in Outlook magazine
Did you read this interview in Outlook magazine?
10 QUESTIONS
Kulpreet Yadav
The writer on his latest book, Catching the Departed, a thriller
LINk--> http://www.outlookindia.com/article/K...
10 QUESTIONS
Kulpreet Yadav
The writer on his latest book, Catching the Departed, a thriller
LINk--> http://www.outlookindia.com/article/K...
Kulpreet Yadav in 'The Hindu' Newspaper.
Catching the Departed, first in the Andy Karan series, is a crime thriller involving international espionage wherein Andy, an investigative journalist, is tasked to probe the death of a lawyer and lands up unearthing a devious plot hatched by an enemy country. “The story has 70 per cent suspense & remaining is mystery.
The character is inspired by Karan of the epic Mahabharat, the legendary fighter who had all the traits of a true soldier.
To Read more click --> bit.ly/1y4b2WC
The character is inspired by Karan of the epic Mahabharat, the legendary fighter who had all the traits of a true soldier.
To Read more click --> bit.ly/1y4b2WC
Kulpreet Yadav in The Times of India
A film in the making, perhaps?
The fast-paced narrative and suspense-filled plot are components that make the book read like a movie script. Prod the author on whether the novel was written with the intention of turning it into a screenplay later, and Kulpreet avers, "Many readers have told me that Catching the Departed reads like a movie. Some have even suggested a cast and I am going crazy with the whole idea. The truth is I wanted to write a compelling story that is easy to relate to, and, has a good entertainment value. I wanted people to discover me as a good storyteller. But yes, if the book is optioned for a movie adaptation, my agent and I would welcome the idea. I think neo-Bollywood is ready for thrilling stories".
Read more -> http://bit.ly/1y8HGpW
The fast-paced narrative and suspense-filled plot are components that make the book read like a movie script. Prod the author on whether the novel was written with the intention of turning it into a screenplay later, and Kulpreet avers, "Many readers have told me that Catching the Departed reads like a movie. Some have even suggested a cast and I am going crazy with the whole idea. The truth is I wanted to write a compelling story that is easy to relate to, and, has a good entertainment value. I wanted people to discover me as a good storyteller. But yes, if the book is optioned for a movie adaptation, my agent and I would welcome the idea. I think neo-Bollywood is ready for thrilling stories".
Read more -> http://bit.ly/1y8HGpW
Amish Tripathi launches Kulpreet Yadav's 'Catching the Departed' (an Andy Karan thriller) at Mumbai
Amish launched the novel and had so many good things to say about it. Thank you, Amish! I am also grateful to friends and readers who made it to the event on a Sunday evening. Here's a short video.
Video --> http://youtu.be/5A42SQDkNnQ
Video --> http://youtu.be/5A42SQDkNnQ
EXCERPT from Story 2 of UNLOVED IN NUDE TOWN (Available only on Kindle).
Anita’s mother had died the previous year, the year in which there was no rain, and now, with the anniversary just a week away, Anita recalled what her mother had said when Anita returned home, blamed by her husband’s family for his death.
Her mother had confronted her before Anita could even enter the house.
‘I was certain you would be a boy when you were inside me—because mothers know, don’t ask how—and when you were born a girl, I knew something was amiss.’
‘But Ma, how does that make a difference? Just think of me as your son.’
‘Obviously, you should have been a boy; you want to be one even now.’
‘No, that is not what I meant. I can be your boy, even though I am a girl—’
‘I think you are a bad omen; yes, that is what you are.’ Her mother repeated, ‘You hear me, bad omen.’
That was how Anita—the widow, who should have been a boy, and whose husband died because of her being a bad omen—was welcomed back home.
Her mother-in-law had said the same thing: ‘Bad omen.’
For six months, Anita stared into the mirror and watched the woman grow each day. Her body was taking revenge, turning her more womanly, her breasts enlarging, waist narrowing, and hips widening. Was her body fighting with the memory of her mother accusing her of being a boy when she could be such a beautiful woman?
*
The window of Rohan’s house was closed, like always. But that afternoon, Anita thought she saw a shadow on it. She angled her head for a better view, and yes indeed, there was someone watching her. It had to be Rohan. His wife was at work, and Anita knew there could be no one else. The servants would have already retired to their quarters at the back of the house for their afternoon nap. Was he watching her? She waved nervously, but the figure didn’t move.
Anita pulled the curtain and went back inside, blaming herself for the errant fantasy that was making her hallucinate. When she returned to the window after drinking a glass of water, there was no one there. But something had begun to stir inside her—she thought of the tadpoles in the cistern in the courtyard—and she wanted that movement to stop.
She walked out of the house and, without looking left or right, headed straight for Rohan’s house, where she paused at the gate. It was unlatched, so she pushed it open and walked in. She pressed the bell and strained her senses to hear it somewhere inside, and when she didn’t, she tried again. Worry gripped her. Is Rohan well?
Anita walked through the lawn to the back of the house, where she startled a few hens, which ran for cover while she looked in the direction of the servants’ room. There was no sign of life.
She turned her attention back to Rohan’s house, pushed open the kitchen door, and moved indoors. It was the first time she had entered Rohan’s house, and the unfamiliarity of the house, together with its silence and smell, hit her with a strong feeling of dislike. As she moved further inside, she heard muffled sounds. She followed the sounds and was soon at the bedroom door, which was ajar.
~UNLOVED IN NUDE TOWN: Stories of Modern Indians Obsessed with LOVE, LUST, and AMBITION
To read more from THE WINDOW AT THE END OF THE STREET please visit Amazon.
Her mother had confronted her before Anita could even enter the house.
‘I was certain you would be a boy when you were inside me—because mothers know, don’t ask how—and when you were born a girl, I knew something was amiss.’
‘But Ma, how does that make a difference? Just think of me as your son.’
‘Obviously, you should have been a boy; you want to be one even now.’
‘No, that is not what I meant. I can be your boy, even though I am a girl—’
‘I think you are a bad omen; yes, that is what you are.’ Her mother repeated, ‘You hear me, bad omen.’
That was how Anita—the widow, who should have been a boy, and whose husband died because of her being a bad omen—was welcomed back home.
Her mother-in-law had said the same thing: ‘Bad omen.’
For six months, Anita stared into the mirror and watched the woman grow each day. Her body was taking revenge, turning her more womanly, her breasts enlarging, waist narrowing, and hips widening. Was her body fighting with the memory of her mother accusing her of being a boy when she could be such a beautiful woman?
*
The window of Rohan’s house was closed, like always. But that afternoon, Anita thought she saw a shadow on it. She angled her head for a better view, and yes indeed, there was someone watching her. It had to be Rohan. His wife was at work, and Anita knew there could be no one else. The servants would have already retired to their quarters at the back of the house for their afternoon nap. Was he watching her? She waved nervously, but the figure didn’t move.
Anita pulled the curtain and went back inside, blaming herself for the errant fantasy that was making her hallucinate. When she returned to the window after drinking a glass of water, there was no one there. But something had begun to stir inside her—she thought of the tadpoles in the cistern in the courtyard—and she wanted that movement to stop.
She walked out of the house and, without looking left or right, headed straight for Rohan’s house, where she paused at the gate. It was unlatched, so she pushed it open and walked in. She pressed the bell and strained her senses to hear it somewhere inside, and when she didn’t, she tried again. Worry gripped her. Is Rohan well?
Anita walked through the lawn to the back of the house, where she startled a few hens, which ran for cover while she looked in the direction of the servants’ room. There was no sign of life.
She turned her attention back to Rohan’s house, pushed open the kitchen door, and moved indoors. It was the first time she had entered Rohan’s house, and the unfamiliarity of the house, together with its silence and smell, hit her with a strong feeling of dislike. As she moved further inside, she heard muffled sounds. She followed the sounds and was soon at the bedroom door, which was ajar.
~UNLOVED IN NUDE TOWN: Stories of Modern Indians Obsessed with LOVE, LUST, and AMBITION
To read more from THE WINDOW AT THE END OF THE STREET please visit Amazon.
