Sonal Singh

I believe that life is a repertoire of anecdotes. The various situations that we encounter, the many incidents of every day, the people we meet, our conversations with them; all make life a melange of tales. And, that is what I attempt to capture through my writing. My cooking is no different! It reflects my love for travel and my love for innovation. The kitchen is my happy place. So, even though by vocation I am a recruiter (www.rianplacements.com), by passion I am a writer, home chef and a hodophile.

Behind the closed door

Creak! Creak! Creak! Protest the rickety wooden steps Every time he makes his way to my door. I cower, enveloped in a raw fear. I bite into my clammy knuckles, And draw my knees up to my chest, As I hear his heavy tread on the steps. I scuttle to …

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Hiraeth, partition stories from 1947

HIRAETH is neither a book nor a compilation of short stories. NO! HIRAETH is a river of emotions that gently flows into the crevices of your heart. It seeps in through the open pores of your skin and it envelopes you like a gossamer veil. It stays with you like a haunting melody that keeps niggling. It is an avalanche of warmth that cascades down to deluge you.

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Where are the lilacs?

I was introduced to Dr. Santosh Bakaya’s work by my mother. Every day since then, I have thanked her because from the moment I picked up her first book, I was hooked. It seems to me that she always writes what I love to read. Yes, the connection is that …

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Death at Midnight

BOOK – Death at Midnight by Manoj Paprikar PUBLISHER – #ArtoonsInn Room9 PAGES – 167 PRICE – ₹ 295/- PURCHASE LINK – https://www.amazon.in/Death-at-Midnight-Manoj-Paprikar-ebook/dp/B082MQMDYH   Written by a doctor, Death at Midnight is a chilling portrayal of how things can rapidly go downhill in the medical profession.   A seemingly normal delivery develops complications …

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How spring comes

  Gathering their frosty fingers, the cold gales retreat Stepping back into the climes from whence they came. And, out dribbles benevolence from a salubrious sun; Tippling its warmth, it shines as if smiling joyously.   The pristine duvet of puffy white snow embraces The tepid love and dissolves into …

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An ode to bygone summers

The whiff of roses in the air, the scent of jasmine that I hold dear, The laden boughs of the cherry & peach; signal that summer’s here. Branches straining to accommodate, groaning & heavy with fruit; Delicious mangoes, plums and chikoos; even leeches to boot! The Banyan & Neem in …

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Selenophile

In its cradle, the crescent moon slept Occasionally peaking from behind the eiderdown Of soft cottony clouds that blew wantonly, Almost willfully in the skies.   Ah! It was a starry, starry night; Made of twinkling brilliance amid the granite skies. The stars sparkled, magical dust of diamonds Strewn on …

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Pink castles

The pink castles that I built In the liberated air of childhood Crumbled with my maturity.   Their facades cracked, And the once magnificent edifices Fell as loose rubble.   They could not bear the onslaught, The terrible travesty of time And succumbed.   Much like me!

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For Binky and Junior

Cooper jerked in fright. His body stiffened, wary at the prospect of impending danger. There...the sounds came again, sounding closer than before. Only now his keen hearing could also detect the shrill cries of animals. The cries sounded like animals squealing in the last throes of life.

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The story of Cullswick

‘The lass pined for her kin. The winds that blew, whispered messages from her ilk. By and by, she grew melancholy. Till one day...,’ Malcum paused and looked at the waters of the bay, ‘she found the skin Sean had hidden. That day, she transformed, dove into the bay and disappeared, never to be seen again.’

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