A single mother’s life is filled with hope and the possibility of finding love again…
Endearing and earnest, Saving Maya is a heart-warming novel about the beauty of second chances.
Check it out on the Readify app
What’s in a surname?
By Kiran Manral
When the fabulous Ms Steinem had made famous Irina Dunn’s feminist slogan about women needing men as much as a fish needed a bicycle, I was a fledgling feminist. The very first time I came across the statement, it quite disoriented me. I was just get about getting my training wheels off the bicycle she mentioned, and here was I being told to question whether I needed men. And then there was the equally fabulous Katherine Hepburn who blithely declared that men and women should not live together but merely visit each other from time to time. The arrangement made perfect sense to me, even though I had back then yet to encounter the dreaded phenomenon of the wet towel on the freshly made bed, and the weekend TV watching coma surrounded by beer can detritus that afflicts the male of the species.
Nonetheless, it eventually happened that I fell in love and got married and, gosh, even changed my surname. Did I even dare to call myself a feminist anymore? The sisterhood eyed me with suspicion. The hapless spouse, on the other hand, had his own battles to fight with his mates. There was sympathy and much back patting, I assume, when they figured that he’d married a woman who had publicly declared herself a feminist. I suppose some of them thought I had a retractable tail and horns, and that I spent my weekends sharpening the tines of my pitchfork. Well, not much has changed in the over two decades since then.
Read the rest here
“I love reading paranormal stories (not necessarily horror) as they are different from normal, usually gripping and makes me think.
Switch E Roo is a short story so very quick to read – with a totally unexpected end. Since the plot is different and intriguing, it piques your curiosity instantly and makes an engrossing read.
Ms. Kiran Manral is an experienced novelist, so writing is naturally neat. She has expressed Mrs. Bhalla’s panic, restlessness and carefulness (to hide this strange change) well.
If you like short stories, if you like intriguing, unique tales, read this one. You won’t be disappointed. And, it costs you just Rs. 10. You can read it on this cool Juggernaut App (on your phone).”
Read the entire review here.
Disclaimer: Not me
“Few days ago, I was part of a very interesting AMA at the Bangalore Literature Festival titled “Love me Tinder.” Given that my dating experience came to a complete standstill circa 1996, I am probably the dating equivalent of a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Back in our time, it was coffee and sweat smell that made matches. I’m guilty of hanging onto a sweat drenched T-shirt of the then to-be-spouse for yonks before he became the spouse, after which I got very prompt about doing the laundry. And of course, there was the “Get me an introduction,” whine on a loop of the newly besotted that plagued the immediate populace.
For much of our generation, dating was a thing of chance and location. You bumped into someone at the bus stop, railway station and exchanged phone numbers. Then, if you were a girl, you grew roots into the chair next to the phone. Sometimes you wondered if you would set the world record for bladder control, because you were terrified to move from the spot in case the phone rang.
Dating today is easier. And then again, not quite.”
Read the rest of the column here
Thanks Riti Prasad, for the kind words.
When exactly does the body age? When is the tipping point? The day that you notice your body has changed beyond recognition?
For Mrs Bhalla, a woman who is body-proud and maintains her body with the utmost respect, it comes as a shock when she realises that her body has been exchanged with someone else’s. As she sits across her therapist and explains her problem to her, perhaps also trying to understand what happened to her all of a sudden, her pain and fear is evident. She feels she has the lost the very essence of herself the day some one took away her body that she had maintained with a great deal of care.
The story gripped me right at the word go and at the same time reminded me of my fears of change and fear of what lies in store.
Kiran also perhaps modernises the age old concept of our body being just a vehicle for our immortal soul and irrespective Mrs Bhalla the protagonist represents what each mortal human feels- a feeling of attachment to the temporary and outwardly. So much so that her concept of self is determined by how her body looks like. She defines herself with what her husband feels for her body rather than her and in private even feels disgust for herself when her body changes.
And until the end perhaps her fears get reflected so much in the reader that we hear a sigh of relief towards the end from the reader.
…and I’m terribly chuffed.
From the IANS best books round up for 2016.
“Meanwhile, for avid readers, there were books galore for a wide expanse of tastes and interests.
Among those that deserve mention would, in fiction, include Kiran Manral’s “The Face at the Window” giving the “Himalayan Gothic” genre a new life beyond the Raj’s ghosts…”
Read the article here
From The Ladies’ Finger list “50 of your Favourite Books of 2016 by Women Authors”
“23. The Face at the Window by Kiran Manral
A cottage in the Himalayas and a dark secret set the tone for this horror story. A Face in the Window is about Mrs. McNally, a retired schoolteacher who lives alone in a remote hill station. Haunted by her past, she struggles between revealing the truth to her daughter and granddaughter and leaving things as they are. A dangerous presence lurking in the house adds to the eeriness. A novel about every kind of fear from the supernatural to that of loneliness, this comes highly recommended by several of our readers, with @rashmikmenon gushing that it is “an absolutely soul-satisfying read”.
Read the original here
Fellow author Nishant Kaushik’s list of five of his best reads for 2016 on the Juggernaut Books Blog.
The Face at the Window
Kiran Manral provides a vivid commentary of life in a quaint Indian hill station alongside deftly describing an ageing woman’s agony as she deals with the demons of her past.”
Read the original here.
Thank you Vikas Datta, Divya Vijayakumar and Nishant Kaushik, for the honour.
“There’s a scene in Dangal that defined the movie for me, a rather innocuous scene when one thinks back to it in retrospect. After all, there were scenes which had one sobbing tears, blowing one’s nose into reams of tissue, other scenes that had one hooting, clapping and cheering, and a scene that had the entire theatre rise to their feet with no awkward hesitation while the national anthem played in the movie. But the scene that stayed with me long after I’d shuffled out of the theatre, nose still red from the honking, was the one where Geeta Phogat, away from her father’s control for the first time ever, delightedly touches her hair, now grown to beyond her ears from the short ‘boy’ cut she’d been forced to adopt.”
Read the rest of the article here.
“There comes a time in every woman’s life when she must confess to the offspring that he or she was not the result of immaculate conception. In my case the reverse is true. The bubble burst for the spawn a couple of years ago. I spotted an article on the good doctor who had helped me conceive. (The brat came along a good eight years after we were married, thanks to my ovaries being awash with PCOD, and I still maintain that he is the best anti-ageing treatment ever.)
“Look, here’s the doctor who helped us to make you!” He morphed instantly into a porcupine with quills upright. “Mamma,” he stated, his voice all indignant quiver. “I am not natural reproduction?”
I spent the next hour explaining mamma egg and pappa sperm being introduced to each other outside the body and then being reintroduced into the womb and how he grew inside my body from two fused cells into a strong gurgling baby. He furrowed his brow. “Don’t people do sex to have babies? Or you can do sex even if you don’t make babies?”
It was an important question – The differentiation between sex for pleasure and sex for procreation.”
Read the rest of the column here.
Its been a peripatetic weekend. Spent Saturday at the wonderful, warm, oxytocin buzzed Festivelle. And Sunday at the Royal Orchid in Bengaluru where I had three sessions with other fab writer friends. Here are some pics from the weekend.
With Sonali Gupta, and moderating a discussion on Social media and creating your personal brand on it with Gul Panag, entrepreneur, pilot, activist and Malini Agarwal, founder of Miss Malini.
women, sisterhood, orgasms, motherhood, taking charge of finances, getting back to work and more.
At Bangalore Literature Festival
Spoke on three panels, Badass women with Ruth DSuza, Andaleeb Wajib, Rachna Singh and Sajita Nair, Love me Tinder with Sally Breen and The Art of the Heart with Kanchana Banerjee, Nandita Bose and Sabah Currim moderated by Vasudev Murty. Great fun was had at all. Loved the vibe and the energy of the festival, the enthusiasm of the audience and most importantly, the crowd at the bookstore run by Laxmi and Subodh of Atta Galata. Thanks Shinie Antony for inviting me. It was the most wonderful day.
And finally, a book signing at the Bengaluru airport Relay store for my book The Face at the Window. I need a week to recover from this weekend.