Book Review-Hope We Never Meet Again-Srinath T K

I normally don’t do reviews and this might be the first one so far, Srinath is a good friend and an amazing author who by the whims of his writings has amazed me with his debut book” Hope We Never Meet Again”.

The story is weaved in two cities Bangalore and Palakad,a small village in Kerela.

So ,let me speak to you about it, like literally or figuratively;)sn2

You: So is this like a romantic campus love story that you find in every other book round the corner?

Me: NAhhh, it’s not a complete dip in heart ,romantic love story but a fast paced, clear thriller story that weaves around Varun Diwakar who meets with an accident unable to bear the news of his friend’s suicide.His subconscious
mind then reveals the spiritual power to understand the situations around him on a different plane albeit love is the prominent part of all the stories in it.


You:All the stories? How many books has he written?

ME:Dude, there are number of stories weaved beautifully in a colloquial English and you find the story going normally until you raise your eyebrows for the intricate thoughts , the fine talent of weaving multiple stories with multiple protagonists, each doing their justice with utmost honesty,rawness and authentic flavor of the countryside of kerela.


You: OH,quite a read then,has it got a message or something?

Me:Definitely, it shows you a subconscious level where we all ignore about why we cross paths with other people in our journey.It strongly adheres to the fact that yes, we don’t meet somebody by accident, they are here for a reason and in every way possible all their stories are connected to us.



You: So what are the traits that make the protagonist?

Me: You’ll be amazed at what a human mind is capable of, reaching the audience with a notion of the minds potential to plan, think and subconsciously travel when we meet up with an accident is explored here.Also the raw emotions of  love,lust,jealousy,temperamental, a more gray shades of the human mind,oh well lets call it the dangerous human mind is capable of!


You:What is one specific quality that stays in our mind after reading the story?

Me:Ohh, it has the potential to leave behind a mark, I would place it in the adult fiction category, there is an attempt to create an awareness of the many messed up social facts that we all know of yet find it safer to ignore it while the author has braved up,with all the risks intact has decided to show us the other shade of the society and it norms!And he has definitely done justice to that.


You:Hmmm quite different and new, a story of the negative shade of the mind with an amazing write up ,Where will I find it?

Me: You are a click away,my friend!

Hope We Never Meet Again

Oh and ping him on facebook page,really likely to get back to you and have a nice chat with the author,I thank him for sending me over a copy of his book:)

facebook page

And have a good read:)




The Forlorn Music of the dead!

The little lady with a mole on her right cheek drawled as the candle-wick reclined on one of the old mildewed books at the corner of the shelf where Mr.Green was intently inclined onto the left side of an old newspaper dating back to half a century ,ruffling through the pages, shuffling for one information that had nagged him since childhood,” The Vineyard Fire” The mention of incident brought before him the caricature of an old hut, a little boy and the three young girls ,ages no more than ten and a damp music.

“It would be better advised if you will come again tomorrow to scavenge the library off it’s content Mr Green,it’s half past two and no electricity,thank Edison for the his invention” Mrs Bilone, an old lady, the librarian of the Grand Central Library suggested.

“Don’t forget Isaac, Mrs Bilone, and could you wait for another hour ! I’m almost there” He coughed and adjusted the square frame spectacles on his nose.Mrs Bilone yawned as she detested his obtrusive read.

The newspapers had a fading ink but that was what he could get his hands on, “The vineyard Fire”,the name repeated in his mind like a litany.

There, his fingers trembled as they hovered over one single heading

“Mysterious Fire Kills the Green family on a Rainy Night”

He sniffed and winced as he read the below paragraph that commenced with,

“There are no survivors left from the incident, three daughters and one son along with Mr and Mrs Green perished in the Vineyard fire.”

“No, this is false, I’m alive ,I still am and whose body did they find to claim to be mine” He growled and encircled his fists and punched the paper, the effort was vain,his nightmares would remain a mystery,he

“It’s time son, you need to return home”Mrs Bilone folded the scrambled papers, creasing them right and taking them back to their respective shelves, the dark alley between the books was the place for forgotten old news.

Mr Green nodded and trotted towards the exit, his memories warring with the logic.His nightmare recurred as he slumped at the exit.

It was a dark night, alike today, Mrs Green lighted a candle at the far end of the hall way while little master Defrey Green played with the wooden horse and his three younger sisters, the triplets giggled playing with the ragamuffins.

While Defrey played ,there was a whisper in his ears,first as a damp forlorn music and then a clear voice.

“Run,there will be a fire” an unknown damp voice spoke.

He jerked from the floor to look for the new unfamiliar eerie voice

“Mama…there is someone here” He screamed and ran to his mother who by now lighted two more candles.

“None, my boy,it’s just daddy from work” she condoled him and ushered him to bed.

While his three sisters were being pampered by his father, he felt a hand around the crook of his arms, cold,damp hands.It was raining heavily outside.

Defrey plunged towards the hall to the safety of his parents hearing the same whisper in his ears

“You are going to die, run” That was all he could hear and everything went dark,the wind from the sudden open windows blew away the candles.

“Oh, Light the god forsaken candles Sarah” Mr.Green Shouted as he could feel his daughters cringing from fear.

Defrey felt a pull, a pair of sparkling dead eyes stared at him

“I told you to run” said the cold whisper and before he knew, Defrey was thrown out of the window,to the street while his house burnt down inspite of the rain, it was as if the rain was harvesting the fire.

Mysteriously he found himself in another city,with a new identity but only he knew of the truth.None believed him,casting him away as a retard,years passed by and he never came to know of the reason,the whisper or the damp,wet hands.

Only the little lady with the mole who followed him everywhere knew, he was her son that the Greens had adopted after her death, her house and the riches were lived by the Greens while her son was made to toil in the factory,vengeance of her spirit made a beggar boy enter to rob the house while she pulled Defrey out of the house.She had ,with satisfaction burnt the house just the way she was burnt in the factory of the Greens,her vengeance wrote the same destiny to the Greens,her son Defrey Williams was himself a Green now and that she would bear!

Humming the lullaby she once sang for little Defrey ,now a forlorn music of the dead.She still follows with him,for a part of her,his eyes were hers and the spirit was attached to him and till today,he hears the same damp music but not the voice,she decides to stay silent.Reasons unknown,reasons that no one will ever know!


This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Are you ready to face the Basement Impact

There was a small hole in the window, an impact due to the scrapping by a rodents, I reckon. The door to the basement was jammed as I checked the scrapped wood on the floor of the new house that my family and I had just moved in. It’s half past twelve at night, I had come to the kitchen to suffice my parched throat, navigating through the slimy stairs and sleepy eyes until I heard the gnawing of the door.Back in my room shared by my younger sister,lay a frame of my family that I had last looked into without much knowledge of the impending danger, the countryside had shade of spookiness  and  ofcourseI don’t much agree with the pollution free air here, it was definitely polluted with an air of phantoms.

“Stay away from the basement” The village help Ramaiyya had warned us the very first day we had moved in. School was a week away to begin and I still had an unsettling feeling about this place.


There was a sudden scream from the basement, I jumped away from the door, it was odd. Was anybody stranded down there?My logic questioned. “Or was it even human that screamed from under there “ was my instinct. I gulped down my saliva and reached for the lights. gingerly stepping towards the stairs that had the control of the kitchen light, I bumped into a person.

“Mom, dad!” I whispered, the darkness caved in and the person moved, right here, once there, next to the tv and next to the oven, the person was everywhere. I was hallucinating, I tried to scream, but choked down my own voice .Was it my fear being manipulated or was it for real,I still scramble up my parts.

Then I heard music, a forlorn being played from the stereo, in a warm cold rhythms that laced of anguish and sounded of morose!

The basement door started shaking,first with a slow strangling creek and then to a bang,as if someone banged it from the other end, the door was locked from the outside, somebody screamed from inside, I staggered and fell in the hallway.

Something moved under my feet! I sensed somebody watching over me, the light from the porch lighted a small part of the living area that caste a shadow on the dining floor. Sweat beads promptly formed over my forehead as I wiped it out, I screamed for help, only that my lips moved but the sound never came, the basement door shuddered and the bang on the door increased with every tick of the second hand on the old antique clock.

I again felt something move under my feet , I tried getting up and running but was tied by an unknown force, unknown strong evil force. And everything went out control, the door creaked with the loudest breathing in the room and it wasn’t my breath, I knew I wasn’t alone, next moment something pulled me, I screamed but no help came, the windows tapped, the winds howled and the darkness blinded me only I knew I was being stridently pulled into the wrath of death. Then everything went blank, the basement door closed, forever…until, you come by!

Will you face the impact?


This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.