A Sweet Romantic Comedy Making You Fall in Love by
If you are looking for a feel-good heartwarming love story with a happy ending, this is your right pick!Nitya Balakrishnan, a young girl from Kerala had it all planned out. She was going to live the life of her dreams in the United States of America. And she thought she had nailed it when she was accepted into one of the best universities in the world. But the cosmos had other plans and conspired to drop love.exe into her.
He came with a bang and stole her away in a breath. Love was not quite there in her agenda, but her heart wouldn’t hear of it. The human heart has its own little brain with its strange logic that remains elusive to our reasoning. For once, she just let it be, only to realize that there is no undo button.
This coming of age, a beautiful tale of love, relationships, and dreams would prick your soul, bring a smile to you, and tear up your eyes. A must-read!
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“My work is mostly reflections on the society with a satirical flavor. The characters in my book are people you can easily connect to and have met all your lives. I try to make the read entertaining, light and pleasant. To me, writing is a medium to spread comfort, positivity and good humor.
I have had a racing mind since childhood, which does all kinds of analysis, interpretations and conclusions of everyday mundane events but have always held my tongue tight for fear of sounding politically incorrect. I found writing to be a perfect platform where I got to finally vocalize my thoughts and ideas.
Manju Nambiar hails from the southern state of Kerala, India. A computer engineer by profession, she now works in one of the leading firms in San Jose, California where she lives with her husband and daughter. Her hobbies include reading, hiking, playing with her daughter and catching up on the latest technologies and trends in the Valley.”
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But there I was.
‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll leave soon. He’s not here anyway,’ I excused myself, taking a deep breath of the pleasant lemon-scented air of the place.
The room was simply furnished. There was an oval centre table topped with a black glass. Pencil scrapes fluttered on half of it and school books and notebooks covered the other half. An almost empty school bag lay huddled on the grey couch next to it. There were matching single-seaters on the other side of the table. A square dining table stood on one side of the room. It had only two chairs.
Besides this sombre furniture, there were three Disney cushions on the grey couch, artificial sunflowers with smiley faces in a vase, a flower-shaped wall clock, and a cute flower and bee shaped perfume dispenser in a corner. These childish whims and fancies served well to add cheer to otherwise too plain a room.
My eyes brushed past all these things, only to be arrested by a photo hanging on a wall. It showed a girl child holding the hand of a tall man. He was dressed in blue jeans and grey t-shirt. The attire suited his height and strong built well. The child was grinning at the camera. Her companion was looking down and smiling at her. It was a smile that could have forced any woman to become rude and stare with desire. I was glad it was just a picture that I was staring at.
The owner of that smile had moved to Delhi four months ago, renting a house very close to my cousin sister Rajni’s house. This was the first time I had come to stay at my cousin’s home since then. My mother had let me come. But she worried that he was too near, the son of a defamed family.
‘You know what his family history is. Stay away from him, no matter what Rajni tells you,’ she had ordered.
‘Too late,’ I murmured, staring at his picture and wondering what mother would say if she found out. But then, there were far worse things that I had hidden. Things that, I knew, would hurt my parents more. Far more.
Jyoti has over five years
of experience working as a freelance writer. This experience includes abridging
over 24 famous English classics like Jane Eyre, Moby Dick etc.
About the Book:
My Last Love Story
I, Simeen Desai, am tired of making lemonade with the lemons life has handed me.
Love is meant to heal wounds.
Love was meant to make my world sparkle and spin.
Love has ripped my life apart and shattered my soul.
I love my husband, and he loves me.
But Nirvaan is dying.
I love my husband. I want to make him happy.
But he is asking for the impossible.
I don’t want a baby.
I don’t want to make nice with Zayaan.
I don’t want another chance at another love story.