A Raw Score

It is one of those things that continue to nag you endlessly. That gnawing emotion that keeps telling you – Share! Narrate! Maybe it was that annoying itch that had bothered me with several metamorphosed shapes each day for over a year that finally led me to pen this collection of short stories. Now, needless to say, despite my noble intentions I had to weave my tales around a narrative that made sense – hopefully. So I chose to write about what I have seen the most of in my life – the Indian working class. ‘A Raw Score’ is basically a collection of 20 tales that are spun around the workings of that pristine tribe. A clan so diverse in everything from grass root level beliefs to sky high aspirations. And so to give wings to those tales, I present to you ‘A Raw Score’.

In this promotional website you will find links to all the 20 stories (hence the word ‘score’ in the title) with brief glimpses to the characters, their backgrounds, their personalities and hopefully, a little bit of their essence. I hope you can use these previews to get a picture of the kind of stories you can expect in my book. Also given below is a link that tells you how you can buy this book.

I hope you enjoy the journey. Bon voyage!

 Please click ON the image to go to Amazon.com and buy your copy and/or see a preview of what the book contains!

In the boiling city with a thousand sores, there exists an unknown entity called Ranga. A nobody. A speck in the dust that flies in each day bringing along thousands of other specks like him into its indigested belly to either put up or to shut up - sometimes forever. Despite the differences Ranga shares with the clones who came with those winds from the millions of villages of India, there is something different about him. Is he a good guy? Or is he the villain? Does he kill? Or will he save? How long will it take for that blister in his brain to split and puke out the character that defines him. And what will he do...when he finally meets the Demon King?

This story is my humble tribute to every farmer in India. Every son of the soil who is sitting behind nameless carcasses weeping his tears as another gust of wind brings in more lives into the scene only to exist loudly and die in silence.