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I did not know initially I am writing a novel....

It was December 2013 and I was in Indore for Industrial visit to Reliance Comm. My acquaintance Gopal Uncle, a 50 years old man who earns 2 lacs per month but who behaved so cordially with me that I sometime felt he is someone of my generation, was the highest authority there. My days in Indore when I had started writing MPM. The man with grey sweater is Gopal Uncle. Rest are engineers.  Next day I got opportunity to visit his grand office which was crowded with engineers and thanks to him I soon dissolved with the employees there. However, apart from practical works there was nothing 'interesting' there and i would often feel sleepy and bored sitting for hours in his cabin (especially when he used to leave me alone for meetings). To add to the worst, many of the employees would stare me from outside which was really embarrassing. Two days passed as usually. My embarrassment had reached to brim and hence the third day I decided to pretend them that I am busy too, in fa
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Sample chapter 5

5. Faizan and Aarti first meet “Doctor…doctor…the patient is awake” cried a nurse loudly calling the doctor as I found myself in a hospital crowded with many other riot victims. An abrupt anxiousness to enquire about my present location bewildered me as soon as I recovered consciousness. “Wh...Where am I?” I enquired groaningly as I tried to lift up. “Relax! You are in the city hospital. You are safe now,” replied the doctor simultaneously inspecting my nerves. “But I was… How did I get here?” I asked to the doctor as pictures of last attack gradually summoned up in my memory. “Thank her…. She is Dr. Aarti. She saved your life.” I turned to see her. She was the same girl, the girl in the blue. The divine one. “You are very lucky. She brought you here just in time” replied the doctor as I retried to lift myself up.  “Do not move. You were brutally attacked by the mob. You must rest. Please lie down” she replied making me lie down to the bed. The doctor lat
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Sample chapter 4

4. Saharabad riots Same day at my house Suzanne came with her family to join us on the breakfast in our mansion’s grove. Unaware of the external affairs outside the world we were engaged in scheduling the matrimonial dates for our marriage. “Your win is sure sir. I feel glad to hand over my daughter to your family,” said Wahid Khan, Suzanne’s father, who perhaps was most glad of adhering further of an already age old relation. “Truly, this is so auspicious day for me. At one side it is sure that I will win the Saharabad seat and at the other side Allah has bestowed me such a nice and decent daughter in law. I really feel blessed today” replied Abbu who looked very happy that day. It seemed as if for the first time in life he was proud of me. However, at one side where the air of love was blowing, the other side a silent storm of hatred was just about to hit the city. That day, in afternoon, when common Muslims commuters gathered in Jama Masjid for prayer three bombs ex
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Sample chapter 3

3. Initial life                                                            My complete name is Faizan Ahmad Khan, son of Ahmad khan, a Muslim party leader and for your concern, ladies & gentleman, no, I was not so serious since birth but riant, especially in final years of my graduation. I never got my graduation completed, unfortunately, because of the outbreak of the riot in the city then. But I never felt sorry for it may be because collecting big bucks were never my desires. I was always fascinated towards doing something different, something out of the box but never exactly knew what. Talking about my behaviour and qualities, I had every quality that a 24-year-old lad of a rich and politician dad generally possess. I was jubilant. I was crazy. A bit careless and an apple eye for my parents. The only quality that separated me from my parents was that I was a semi-atheist i.e. I was a bit impious in his existence. Sometime I would pray and sometime not. I barely kept fasts
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Sample chapter 2

2. Bereft Aarti My eyes stick to a photo frame sometimes whenever I dream of my house, which is unfortunately now is bereft of us. It should be still there, perhaps, in our bedroom. It is so strange that even at this stage of my life I still remember every moment, every corner, every memory linked with that house. We got it snapped when she had finally accepted to marry me and there was a kind of celebration all around the country. The TOIs, The HTs and many others had headlined in its first page ‘ Finally Aarti says yes’ . But there were also some orthodox people who had protested against our wedding. It was a tough time for both of us. Whenever I see that picture moments freeze, time slows down and past memories surround me all around. Then tears, before I realize, huh! …eyes twinkling with tears and filled with emotions pour down. We had snapped it in Saharabad, the place where it all began and all ended. “Sorry we could not save your wife” This was exactly what they (the
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