Ginger drafts...

Intractable seeds of eclectic secrets, hidden in the enclosed tubules of senses, enraptured by the asphyxiating heavy fragrance of Indian wine, like flower buds, blossomed. Like a teething child that restlessly licks all its incipient teeth, I tongued the hollowed roof of my mouth with the scarlet tongue that twitched and conveyed an electric pulse with every new sensation it captured. The night sky was clear. Beneath it, frozen in time, I reached out with my pointed fingers to raise the chilled glass of white wine. “Toast to TCS” sahu’s wine glass clinked against gym’s Shirley temple. A shrill curiosity engulfed me in flames of desire as I wetted my tongue with the dusky yellow wine. The fragile stem of the wine glass throbbed under the weight of lotus of my hand as I shifted my acute conscience around the chiselled lips. Through those lips, white wine encircled my tongue in an enchanted grip. Glistening yellow molten metal, with an acidic taste and corrosive intensity, pulverised m

Chapter 1 ‘The future is of Nuclear forces,’ exclaimed the noble gases Helium and Argon. ‘Magnetic field has enveloped earth since its birth, sheathed it from sun’s storms and….’ the horse shoe magnet was cut short by the representative from the transition elements of periodic table. ‘We demand for a special treatment like lanthanoids and actnoids at the bottom of the table, we no longer accede to squeezing between metalloids and metals. Noble gas xenon cleared his throat, everyone attentively turned to face him. ‘Hydrogen would divorce oxygen if our expectations are not met. Far too much importance is given to electricity these days. Earthmen, dumb fellows, they have still not found a way to store it; we elements on the other hand don’t have that luxury’. ‘Long live elements’ someone from the back benches shouted. It was nitrogen ‘Long live nuclear forces’ added hydrogen. ‘Aah….’ There was sudden uproar in the parliament. Elephant’s trunk Nebula, 3000 light years away from Earth has b

Private detective Phil Marlow is invited by a wealthy businessman who has just received a note of ransom, anonymous one. His two youthful, sleazy daughters are involved and the wealthy old man cannot approach the police. The old man is suffering from a poor heart, he wheels his way around the home, is affectionate towards his son-in-law who apparently is absconding for some reason. His older daughter thinks she is clever, with her shiny white legs, supple ankles, gorgeous figure and slender waist, attempts to seduce Marlow, the detective. Younger daughter has a boyfriend who finds her posing naked for a book shop owner Geiger and shoots him. The shop owner’s secretary has a notorious boy friend, Brody, who happens to be hiding behind the bushes at the time of the murder; Brody escapes with the naked pictures of younger daughter who stays on dope for the whole night. The wealthy old man’s chauffer is found dead, the car is found in Pacific Ocean. Owen Taylor, younger daughter’s boyfri

What can I say about the man “K” who is on trial for a crime who knows nothing about? He is on arrest, but can go on with his everyday routine just as well as he used to do prior to that. The judge who summons “K” is clueless, officers who arrest “K” are clue less, and everyone seems to be part of a giant mechanism of portentous network that looms on to people and casts giant shadows, obfuscates the lay man from the authority behind the clouds. The whole novel is reminiscent of “Who are you?” track by “The Who”. The courtroom is filled with people who nonchalantly applaud “K”; the judge, apparently pretends to listen, but is thumbing down the pages of a notebook that has nude pictures of voluptuous females. K’s innocuous remarks (or so he thought at the time) result in two officers whipped officially for a good whole day; his neighbour, a lady who works in the theatre is cross with him, for he accosted her the other night with nonsensical claims of his being put on trial; his landlady

Chapter 1 Mrunalini leaned her head back; the roof was vacant, tapping the cigarette with her forefinger, awash in a moment of brief contemplation, stared smilingly at a crack that zigzagged across the ceiling. With her long, slender legs rested on the arm of a pale brown wooden chair, she reached for her coffee mug by the glass topped table beside her. Mopping her forehead off the morning mist that clung to her, how blissful and divine, she thought, to begin her day with an insouciant walk to the flower shop at the end of the street. Nithin, the man in the shop was besotted with her; with high cheek bones, blunt nose, dark curly hair, thick eye brows and eyes that peep out of deep sockets, he was no match for her. With his uncouth mannerisms, unkempt hair, ill shaven beard, brazen and earthy looks, smitten as he was; fell for Mrunalini’s urbane nature, charming grace and sublime beauty. Freckled skin, milky white complexion, pointed nose, long eye brows, violet eyes, sharp eye lash

Nabokov employs an unconventional narrative style in his magnum opus. The book is considered by intellectuals and common public in general, as one of the ten greatest and most influential books ever written in any language. The protagonist’s morbid fantasy, for nymphets, eleven to thirteen years old girls, has stirred the world in a grip of fiction that portentously swayed outside the novel. Into the world, Lolita issued a word, a phrase, that prancing wildly, melting morals on its way, tramping literary conventions under its rabid feet , attained martyrdom that few books in the history can claim the status of. Rose bud pink cheeks, slender waist, slack limbs, hoisted figure, honey coated soft pale white skin, perfunctory clothing, bare feet, toe nails polished of red, plump under lip, cropped eye lids, pale grey eyes, bobbed hair that sullenly slanted on naked flesh, slim shoulder blades……the protagonist, H.H’s avid, detailed and myriad imagery of Lolita in prismatic patterns fills