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Love fades. Love does, no matter what we believe. All that’s left are the what-ifs.
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What is it about marriage that makes it possible for a man and a woman to mesh their lives, dreams and even their thoughts in such a complete fashion?
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I wanted to read someone who rose above the romanticism of most women writers. I wanted robust prose; I wanted muscle and sinew, even if it was a love story.
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Love is a colorless,volatile Liquid.Love ignites n burns.Love Leaves no residue neither smoke nor ash.Love is a poison masquerading as spirit of Wine
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Perhaps because technology so dominates our existence, more and more it seems that the young reader is captivated by fantasy.
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I don't think there is a need of the categorization 'woman writing'. I think in some sense writers lost their gender when they walk into the world of words; I believe that writers ought to be able to slip under the skins of both men and women. Only then will the writing and the characters have credibility and strength.
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Every night there is something to ruminate on. The vagrant mind knows no boundaries.
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Only those who have been truly afraid can understand the crippling hold it can have on you.
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In India we have a readymade world of fantasy available in Indian mythology. And this is why we see such a surfeit of characters drawn from mythology. I don't think it's because the present day humanity is soulless.
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This is the world. Half of it is lit by the sun and the other half remains in darkness. It is the same with life. There is good and bad and it's our duty to remain in the light, be good.