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shitijsharma24

A story is only as good as the storyteller.

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entertainment

MUDMEN – The Quest for Humanity(OUT NOW!!!)

This is my second book and the first in a new series that I’ve been working on. I published my first novel when I was nineteen, been a month since I turned twenty. Either way – do read, review and share!

What if you thought you could play a better god than God?

Mudmen is a story unlike anything you have ever seen before. It all starts with a half-crazed dwarf scribbling furiously on a piece of paper while the world outside his little cottage is ravaged by a great storm. There is an artifact in his possession which gives him power over all else, but that artifact is stolen by the very creatures that he gave birth to in his frustration – these creatures are what we come to know as the Mudmen.

The first book of the series will be available for purchase on 1st February, 2017.

Excerpt-

And for the first time in days he dreamt. He was climbing up a hill. It was the dead of the night and moonlight was his only guide to what lay ahead. His short legs carried him up the hill at a far slower pace than he had expected to cover.

Wait! What had he expected to cover?
All of a sudden the ground beneath his feet began to shake and a grumbling sound emanated from the top of the hill. It was almost as if the great giant that rests beneath the earth had finally decided to move and he was standing directly over him.
Why were there no trees on the hill? Why was the ground so barren?
He saw a light at the top, an orange glow that seemed to be taking on a more solid form as each second passed by and every step he took brought him closer to it. It was almost as if the night sky was on fire.
Oh no. This was not a hill. It was a volcano, one that was about to spew forth molten lava and rocks.
He fell down as the earth beneath his feet shook even more violently. A black cloud of smoke blocked out the moon but he could see the world around him a lot clearer now in the light of the fire that rained from the skies above. He turned around, willing himself to run away but his feet would not obey him. And then he remembered that he had to get to the top of the volcano no matter what happened, for what waited for him at the top was the only thing that mattered.

Amazon link – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N28AVAP

Amazon link (India) – https://www.amazon.in/dp/B01N28AVAP

Goodreads link – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34093278-mudmen—the-quest-for-humanity

REALITY CHECK

distorting-reality03

source – google images

“We never stop to consider that our beliefs are only a relative truth that ‘s always going to be distorted by all the knowledge we have stored in our memory.”-Miguel Angel Ruiz

The man was already there when I arrived. There was a gap among the railings where the man was standing. It seemed as if something had crashed through the railing carrying away a part of it. I passed by him unnoticed and moved on to the other end of the bridge feeling secure under the cloak of solitude.
He stood there for a long time. He looked like a statue frozen in time. He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even move his neck. He simply gazed into the distance to whatever was waiting for him. Then he took a small step forward and plummeted into the darkness or maybe light. I felt a cool breeze brush against my skin and then I was falling. The still sheet of water parted like shards of glass as my body hit the water. I was drowning. The murky waters of the river were surrounding me, trying to blanket me in their embrace. How did I get here? It was the man who was had jumped not me. I tried to fight against the pull of the water but I was no longer in control of my body. My limbs no longer obeyed my brain.
I woke up, gasping for air. I was drenched in sweat. The fear of not being in control smothered me. After sometime my breathing returned to normal. I took a sleeping pill along with the glass of water kept beside my bed. Sometime later i fell into an uneasy slumber.
I woke up feeling light-headed, the fears of last night forgotten in anticipation of a new day. I called out to my wife but there was no answer. She must have already set out to drop over daughter off to school. I prepared breakfast for myself and then set off to work. I was the professor of history at the local college whereas my wife taught in school. She usually took the car to go to school and come back with our daughter while i took a cab as our destinations were in the opposite directions.
While sitting in the back my thoughts again wandered off to my wife and only child. She was a lively twelve year old. She was an excellent musician and could already play the piano quite well. Her music teacher called her a prodigy and said by the time she was old enough, She would be able to get into top institutions for music.
I ran into the Dean while walking towards my class. He looked sad and surprised at the same time on seeing me. He gently put his hand on my shoulder. “How are you?”, he asked me. I told him I was fine and touched by his concern for me. He looked sad but for some reason he always looked sad. He simply patted my shoulder and moved on.
For some reason I did not have a single class that day. I decided to speak to the Dean over this matter the following day but was content for the time being grading essays based on the French revolution. All of my colleagues were in a somber mood and more than one of them enquired after my welfare.
I returned home that evening only to find that my wife and daughter had not yet come home. At first I was worried but then remembered that it was a Tuesday and she had music lessons.
But as it grew late I began to worry. I tried to call my wife but she didn’t pick up. I decided to take a walk in the direction of their school.
I recognised the bridge from my dream as it was very similar. I walked towards the railing like a man in a trance. My thoughts returned to my family once more. What did my daughter look like? Why couldn’t I remember what she looked like? I had reached the railing by this time and was climbing over it when someone caught hold of my collar and pulled me back. I turned around to look into my father s face.
“The dean said that you visited the college today” he said,” I was worried”

.
I tell him that I was worried because my wife and daughter were late from school. He looks bewildered and says” There was an accident two weeks ago, your wife is dead”. I feel sick as if I am about to vomit.
” But what about her, where is she?
“ Her?”
“ Yes my daughter, where is she?”
He looks at me with pity and confusion,“ You do not have a daughter”, he says.

The ground shifts beneath my feet as I collapse.
Twelve years ago my wife gave birth to a daughter who was still born. We were unable to have any more kids. It was traumatic for both of us but we moved on, our love only grew. My wife died in a car accident which took place on the very bridge where I collapsed a week ago. The accident took place two months ago. Her car steered off the bridge carrying away a part of the railing while trying to avoid a collision with another car which had stopped in the middle of the road.
My psychiatrist tells me that it was the death of my wife which finally tipped me over. Reality was too harsh so I created a distorted version of it in which I had a daughter and my wife was still alive.
My father has moved in with me after the incident on the bridge. He looks after me. Most days I bear the crushing weight of my loss and come to terms with reality. But some days the weight is too much to bear. I call out to my wife and think of the daughter who is a figment of my imagination.

Thoughts never spoken

The words you are looking for are floating in the back of your mind,

the answers you seek you may never find.

What is easy to think is hard to voice, reality really does leave us in a bind.

SIX WORD STORIES

He cried, blinded by his insight.

STRANGE PEOPLE AND STRANGER CONNECTIONS

People tend to connect over the strangest of things

shared misfortune

music

a misplaced smile

circumstances

likes

dislikes…..

shared hometown when in another city/ country(Somali K Chakrabarti )

 The same UNREQUITED love..(Divya)

that unknown helping hand amidst the crowd.. those random smile which are similar to mine (Divya)

the same heart beating around 24*7 but divided amongst borders!(Divya)

the same tears which are unstoppable upon the death of our Martyr!(Divya)

You are free to add to this list in the comments section and I will periodically update this post along with your input.

Stay

It was easier back then, all he had to do was pack his bags and leave.

It was harder back then, he never had a reason to stay

Now he had her, and she was everything he needed.

But she was no longer there to tell him that.

WHITE LIGHTS – PART I

He turned right and stumbled into a long white empty corridor where he stopped. There was a solitary figure standing at the end of the corridor where there was a door, probably waiting to be called in. The figure was busy fidgeting with the buttons on his coat and glancing at the watch on his skinny wrist every minute or so. The man was preoccupied so much so that he did not notice Raheem spying on him until five minutes later. He pointed a finger at him and made a wiggling motion meant to call the boy to him. Raheem took a timid step forward. He knew that he was not supposed to be in this part of the ship but he could not ignore the man who was beckoning him with his outstretched finger. He would later recall that the man seemed to have a strange almost mystic control over him. He  started walking towards the man as if in a daze. Before he fully realized what he had done, he had already reached the other end of the corridor.

Raheem violently shook his head in order to clear it.The man was no longer there, instead the door which had been closed for as long as Raheem could remember now stood wide open. The room inside was dark but he could make out the shadows that were moving inside. Ignoring his mother’s warnings and his own apprehension, he stepped into the room and was swallowed by the darkness.

To be continued……

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LDFM9EK#nav-subnav

SHADOWS AND SLAVES

How is the dark unknown if you can define it as the dark? It is the light that is undefinable. Because even when you see you can never be sure of what it is that you are seeing. Faces are masks where your eyes are the only slits that allow a glimpse of the soul. Everyone has a slave in a shadow, it does what you do, when you do it. But as soon as it gets dark, the shadow gets a chance to escape and be free in whatever realm it is that shadows are free.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LDFM9EK#nav-subnav

The universe is to blame

The universe is expanding every second every day, the distance between stellar entities is increasing and maybe that’s the reason why we are farther apart than ever before.

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