One of the two stories I’m currently writing (trying to) is called Romance. And no it’s not what you think 😉
Here’s a teaser. I will continue depending on the response.
In a world where society defines everything, a woman seeks to define herself
I’m a woman
Not a heroine
Or a celebrity
Just a regular woman
From a regular family
With regular feelings
And this is my story
1: I thought I had it all
Bangalore, India’s Silicon Valley:
The scene in the hotel room resembled the aftermath of a mini tornado. Fortunately the occupants had been left unscathed. Or had they? I sat on the king size bed in the few inches of space I could find and fidgeted with the pallu of my expensive sari. Spun from the finest silk, in the lightest shade of peach with a green and red wedding procession marching along the edge—it was undoubtedly a fine work of art. As I twisted and untwisted the richly embroidered fabric, I saw the men and women drift apart then come together, often in quite compromising positions. It was fascinating.
“Aanch, what are doing there? I thought you had pitched in to help me and give me advice. Come here, tell me how I look.”
I left my seat and gingerly picked my way through the obstacle course on the floor and went over to where my friend (my best friend) was preening herself in front of the lighted mirror.
“You are looking very pretty Rosh,” I admitted albeit reluctantly and readjusted her exquisite gem-studded jewelry; a slight tug here, a gentle nudge there. Her parents had spared no expense.
Rosh turned to me with a bright smile, “You think so Aanch? Thank you.”