Life and Lies of M R Maiti

The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger My rating: 5 of 5 stars    I have done my best to summarize the story in the following lines:    He goes to meet her;    Still, she's the one left behind.    Both of them are together;    Yet, the two are alone.    The start is not the beginning;    The start is the middle.    And the middle is the start;    And the end is just not the end.    A story of a time traveller who doesn't want to change whatever has happened and whatever will happen. In fact, he doesn't need to. He's content with what he's got, that being the love of his life. He loves her so much that he's afraid that even a tiny bit meddling with time will have disastrous consequences: he losing her.    Thus, he keeps going back and forth in time, involuntary popping out here and there, fighting his way out through all the troubles he encounters on the way. His stance never changed even when confronted with death.

   Her hand rose and tucked the loosened locks of hair back to place revealing a pair of well-shaped eyebrows flanking her kohl eyes on either side of a round nose, where a nose pin sat beautifully in its place, visible occasionally when she turned towards the window.    Her mother was busy conversing with others in the compartment. She smiled at intervals, listening to her mother’s talks, and her pinkish lips gave away a fine set of well-shaped incisors. Her face flushed when she smiled as a consequence of which a rosy tint filled her fair cheeks.    She was dressed in black jeans and a yellow V-neck kurti, with sleeves running halfway down her forearm; she wore no jewelry besides her nose pin. Also, a stole wrapped around her neck, hung low above her bosom, as it should be, a barricade for unwelcome onlookers.    She took a sip from the bottle; her cheeks bulged for a moment, and then flattened. A drop of water evaded her lips and trickled down her chin. It dangled th

         “Hey there, feeling lonely? Don’t worry MOM is here.”     In a span of 300 days, wherein I moved about merely a thousand kilometers, MOM traversed an incredible distance of 650 million kilometers; India created history on Sept 24, 2014 when MOM entered Mars’ orbit. All fingers, previously crossed were relieved of the strain. MOM never disappoints.     It’s definitely a proud moment for our country and countrymen. With a budget less than that of a Hollywood film and tenth of the NASA’s Mars mission Maven, it remains the cheapest mission so far. In doing so, ISRO succeeded in joining the ranks of Soviet space agency, NASA and ESA.  Not only that, ISRO is the only one to achieve this feat in its maiden attempt.     Plus, for the Indian viewers, the remarkable event has brought a break in the humdrum squabble of the news channels about cricket, corruption, cinema and celebs etc. Not to forget the Indian scientists, who are usually put down by the reasoning –

Many a times, I find myself wondering about things of daily life, often put on air but barely comprehended by the common herd. I pause and ponder and then I’m lost in an own world of mine. I glide from one thought to another, swiftly; most times entangling myself by reaching back where I had started. When I no longer feel arriving at a satisfying conclusion, I give up and leave the things to be. There’s this sort of cold war that has been going on between the countries India and Pakistan, for decades. So many peace proposals, cease fires and friendly games and yet the relationship between the countries remains far from satisfactory. My books say that the last fought war took place fifteen years ago. I feel differently, though. Every other day newspapers and news channels bring forth reports of killings going on the borders. The reaction of people varies. If the sacrificed one is one of our soldiers, the patrio

He laid in wait, planning the kill. His eyes gleamed like red fire emanating from purgatory. All of his senses were at full alert. His tongue hung out with drops of drool at its tip. Now and then he moved his tongue across his lips, anticipating the aftermath of the kill. A faint growl broke his trance. His ears perked up and eyes grew wider looking around for familiar signs: a rustle of leaves or crunching of twigs or a trace of the prey’s scent. He found none. The next time being prepared for it, the sound was more pronounced. Then it came to him. A glance at his belly confirmed his suspicion. The sound came from nowhere but from his insides. What else had he expected! He had not fed for days; lying there waiting for the ultimate big game. A few such days and he’d be no better than dead. The wait prolonged and his appetite intensified manifold; his belly howled in protest. Long waits bear sweet fruits (in this case: flesh), he repeatedly consoled himself. But deep down he knew that