Genghis Khan – A New interpretation of a Conqueror’s Life



It is not an easy task to rebuild history, it is equally difficult to create a compelling narrative of a conqueror who has been loved and hated in equal measure. Sutapa Basu incites the reader to rethink about the trials and tribulations of Genghis Khan, the circumstances that helped him to transcend from a commoner ‘Temujin’ to that of becoming the  undisputed  ruler of Mongolia. Basu reconstructs facets of history diligently and the reader is submerged into the life and times of yore.

The language is easy to understand and like a brimming river flows swiftly and submerges into the reader’s consciousness. The court politics, harem hierarchy, tax system, dilemmas of the common man is delved in depth and makes it impossible for  the reader to keep the book aside. This is definitely a book worth buying and cherishing.

The Runaway Bridegroom- Spotlight




Paperback: 256 pages

Publisher: Westland Boks

Publication Date: August 31, 2019

Sold by: Amazon Digital Services LLC

Language: English

Available across all bookstores in India

Genre: Romance


Eight-year-old Chanda Maheshwari and thirteen-year-old Veerendra Singh Choudhry are married as per custom. But when the bridegroom runs away immediately after the wedding, the Maheshwari family’s world comes crashing down. They move to Jaipur to begin a new life in the city.


Fourteen years later, as a management student in Delhi, Chanda takes up a temporary job at RS Software Pvt. Ltd and finds herself falling head-over-heels for her boss, Ranveer Singh. But, for all her feelings, Chanda is still a married woman. Meanwhile, Ranveer’s secretary, Shikha, is determined to win him for herself. Even though his second-in-command, Abhimanyu, keeps getting in the way, she keeps a steady eye on the main prize. So when Ranveer starts to show an interest in Chanda, Shikha is furious. Back in Jaipur, an astrologer predicts that Chanda’s errant husband will soon make an appearance.


A secret childhood marriage, a vindictive secretary and unwelcome cosmic predictions—how much can Chanda deal with? And does anyone care about what she wants? Torn between the man she loves and the claim a missing husband still has on her, will Chanda ever find happiness?


Available across all bookstores in India




It would be great if you can add this book to your TBR





Sundari Venkatraman is an indie author with forty-plus titles to her credit, which have sold more than 1.5 lakh copies around the world. Her books consistently feature in the Top 100 Bestseller Lists on Amazon in both Romance and Asian Drama categories. Her latest romance novels have all been on the #1 Bestseller slot in Amazon India for over a month.


As a child, Sundari loved to read books with ‘lived happily ever after’ endings. They were all about good triumphing over evil. As a teenager, her favourite books were romance novels from Mills & Boon. She was fascinated by them, so much so that she began to visualise the stories set in India.


Sundari was forty when she began her writing journey, completing the first draft of her first novel in thirty-five days. She has not looked back since.


Click here to check out all the titles by the author…


You can stalk her @




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A book that changes the perception of fairy tales , well known fairy tales have been rewritten with thought provoking ending ..a book that presents slice of realism as it is without meandering into  unachievable happy endings …Kudos to the author for presenting a new facet of these much loved tales. It takes lots of imaginative foresight to reinterpret stories that have survived decades and are still well loved. The language is simple and each story is well delineated.  Would recommend connoisseurs to pick up a copy and immerse into the new avatars of well loved fables.


Looking forward to the author’s next presentation.



 Tomorrow is another day

I face the setting sun

And let my despair surge and fall

Each anguish I overhaul

I set my today free

I clear my mind’s debris

Pain is just a bubble

One must break through the rubble

Each thorn must be picked

Each wound must be licked

Each gash must be sutured

With faith and constant nurture

Today will become past

Tomorrow will bring a new start

Pain cannot forever last

A brighter dawn will find its way

If you let the belief in your heart hold sway

After all, Tomorrow is another day.

©Paromita Mukherjee Ojha


Note:  The line After all, Tomorrow is another day is from Margaret Mitchell’s stellar novel ‘Gone with the Wind’.

Scarlett O’Hara: After all, tomorrow is another day!







I raged and ranted inwardly at the market of avarice

Where souls were twisted and sold for a paltry price

Dignity, honesty  were  long forgotten entities

On deaf ears fell my entreaties

My soul was disintegrating and so was I

In that  soul vending market

Stripping and lynching of integrity was the prime target

I struggled everyday and rode the crimson tide

But nothing stirred except my wounded pride

What was the way out from this capitalistic market?

Profits above service was the daily harvest

I was a solitary traveller in that land

Who against the injustices  wanted to rant

The agony spilled and rolled

On parched paper I finally set free my soul

My agony against masks and pretences

On those pages took a precedence

I harped on the exiled soul of modern man

My thoughts every day sprinted and ran

Poetry, you have been my nemesis

Before you, my life was in stasis

Now, I die and rise every day from the ashes

I can hear my heart’s echo in multitudes

My soul bows at your altar in gratitude

You have salvaged my battered pride

You have let wounded souls unite

We will strive to eradicate the blight

Pray, be by my side

Nourish my soul by continuing to be my light


©Paromita Mukherjee Ojha, 2019




(Based on Shakespeare’s Sonnet #XXII)

Age is just a number

Young or old life will ease into perpetual slumber

Do we trudge on with tired eyes and heavy head

Do we stop living dreading death?


Every winter trees lose leaves and sheds barks

But every spring renewed vitality says O! Hark

Hope throbs valiantly even in the dark

From the grave seeds spreads its shoots above


I do not believe my life is spent

I look forward to every unknown bend

Tossing and turning I strive and seek

Future does not seem to be bleak



I have not let my zest for life run cold

My glass shall not persuade me I am old.


©Paromita Mukherjee Ojha, 2019



It was in the last rain

I saw her rudderless, float in pain

Grief had sucked her emotions dry

Her eyes holding fading memories nigh


It was in the last rain

That I saw her walking again

Towards the ruin that was her home

Silence of her heart was her companion alone


It was in the last rain

That I saw how bestiality won

Those fledglings that she had called her own

Usurped her deceased husband’s hitherto throne


It was in the last rain

That I saw her pushed towards old age home

Where every being was unknown and alone

In her cloistered memory hope was dethroned


It was in the last rain

I saw the pristine body that was decked in white

A widow, that’s what the world thoughtlessly called her

Laid finally at rest in the funeral site


It was in the last rain

That the birds and the elements sang her paean

Her love had helped them to blossom just like her sons

They remembered, while her own blood had waited for her end run


It was in the last rain

The prodigal sons sold and destroyed the nest

That she had lovingly handwoven

The sloven builder happily launched demolition.


It was in the last rain

In that ethereal land two aching souls united

Beyond the weft and warp of commercial relations

The two souls fused as forever one in twinkling constellation.


©Dr. Paromita Mukherjee Ojha, 2019








Raging Rain


Raging Rain


City of Destiny was under siege

Drops of glistening rain no more a bliss

Rain and storm for eons long

Oh!! Like many other warnings before

Let this also pass, I beseech Lord

Prayers failed, valiantly hung the death sword

No one seemed to have a clue

The pave dwellers gathered their few

Their lives lolling askew

The storm thudded in

While life huddled in

The wind lashed and writhed

Hope and prayers proved short-lived

Buildings and domes crumbled

Transport and communication totally disabled

While the storm raged and raged

The landscape blazed and razed

Fate of the rich turned to rags

Life ran jaded in ill-fated tracks

Petrichor of death surged and suffocated

Whatever you touched turned to ashes

No light beckoned the seafarers from the light house

The sea seemed to be in a permanent grouse

For days and night orchestra of rain played on

The city permanently suspended in the spell

Fruits and crops crumpled and maimed

Finally, the rain and her followers receded

Rainbow in full glory descended

The forgotten breeze of the seas flowed in freely

Slowly life re-learnt to live daily

Greens resurfaced; blooms sprung up

The reddish brown melted into brighter hues

Blackened puddles were far and few

The grass sprang again from the ravaged turfs

Life sailed again against the surfs

Birds and human returned to their abandoned hearths

Sky, sea and Earth found peace at last.

©Paromita Mukherjee Ojha, 2019







Prompt- Dictionary Illustrations




My fagged-out brain fails to generate output

Check your facetime -productivity alarming

This is a factory floor

Every second need to be accounted

Else see the door

Why does life have to start on the wrong foot

Slog day in and day out

Survive like maggots in jhuggis and chawls

Even a bucket of water generates unholy brawl

Feeding those fledglings at home

Seems an ugly jest

Surviving in this ruthless city is a daily jiggery-pokery

Dignity for human life seems like a mockery

Rich become richer, poor destined for lifelong drudgery

Sweat and toil, moping, groping, retching, belching

No roads lead to recovery

Of lost sanity, lost vanity, lost humanity

March head on amongst the marauding hordes

Admire the false beauty displayed on bill boards

Wish, sigh, sweat and cry

No matter how much one tries

Spreading those war-torn wings on the blue sky

Is a dream too distant to hold by.

Life goes on across two boundaries

The educated lot

Who flock to fancy shores to get permatanned

While the lowly souls grind and attain black hands

Live it or leave it, pray one day fate you might outwit

Happiness would no more be contraband

Strive to rise against the tide, strengthen your pride

Maybe then maybe fickle destiny would be at your side


©Paromita Mukherjee Ojha, 2019