Skip to main content

Cover Reveal: Encounters- Someone's Always Waiting by Sumana Khan



Encounters by Sumana Khan 





Blurb 

Someone Is Always Waiting 

EXCERPT FROM THE NOVELETTE “THE STORYTELLER” IN ENCOUNTERS COLLECTION

I stare at the cement bench covered in pigeon shit and spot the dim outline of the granite slab embedded in the backrest. Years ago, when the bench was new, the granite slab was a shiny black mirror inscribed with the words ‘Dedicated to the courageous people of Thirukadal’. Four cyclones and many pigeons later, the words have disappeared. The place is so choked with weeds that the bench appears to rest on the thorny plants. Behind me, beyond a muddy track, the Bay of Bengal hisses and sighs in a treacherous language.

I look up at the sky, as if to decode the time. My watch says it is half past seven in the morning, but the sky, clotted with grey clouds, remains secretive. It could be evening as far as the heavens are concerned. A depressing form of rain is assured; the kind that only occurs in this eastern coast of South India—skies that sob continuously for forty-eight hours, increasing humidity, mosquitoes and the stench of choked drains, damp walls and wet clothes. I wonder if the sky had been just as morose on the morning of 26 December, 2004.

I tie a handkerchief around my face, covering my nose and mouth, and hack away at the weeds. Swarms of mosquitoes and flies rise in a static buzz and hover over my head like a satanic dark halo. It takes me an hour to clear a small area around the bench. The sky starts its weeping just as I scrub the bench with a coconut husk and Vim detergent powder.    
After half an hour, the granite slab gleams into existence once again. I’ve got my memorial ritual paraphernalia in a Food World plastic bag. I bring out a strand of jasmine that I loop around the granite slab, its fragrance weak in the rain. I crouch under my umbrella that won’t open fully and light a couple of incense sticks. I’ve forgotten to bring the incense holder, so I stick the smouldering incense into a banana that was to be my breakfast. I place it on the bench in front of the granite slab and hold the umbrella over it. I close my eyes in an attempt to pray. All I can think of is the angry allergic rash that’s spreading on my legs and hands thanks to the weeds and that the incense smells like a cheap aftershave.

I give up and sit on the bench, still holding the umbrella over the incense. The rain stings my skin like the rash. The hard, wet seat numbs my thighs instantly and a dull arthritic pain blooms in my knees and lower back. I squirm, shifting my weight from one butt cheek to the other. I wait, just as I’ve waited in vain for the last seven years, for the storyteller to show up. The incense is all ash now. I may as well eat the banana and tell you the story of how I met this mysterious man.    

About The Author 


Sumana Khan was born and raised in Bangalore and currently lives in the UK. She is a blogger and a student. Her debut novel was The Revenge of Kaivalya. 

Author website: http://www.sumanakhan.com

Join the Giveaway  +Goodreads 





Goodreads Book Giveaway


Encounters - Someone's Always Waiting by Sumana Khan


Giveaway ends December 11, 2015.
at Goodreads.

Comments

  1. Hi Simran :) The excerpt is really intriguing. Nicely written too. I am late to follow you:)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Must be a good read. Thanks for recommending this book

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Either positive or negative comments are good because it shows I am still relevant. Hope you enjoyed reading here:-) !!
~Simran

Popular posts from this blog

Let it be A Suspense

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 31 ; the thirty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . The theme for the month is 'Strangers in the Night' Oops! I missed my bus  Its Hilarious! to wait   while saying she draws a sad face on the wall.                     Next night... She is before the time and is dumbstruck to see the sad face she sketched now smiling. Sweet, who could be...? Let it be a Suspense!   ''Strangers In The Night'' she writes and leave . The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here . To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . Introduced By: Someone is Special , Participation Count: 06

Life's Crux- Had and Lost ( Fiction: 55 )

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 30 ; the thirtieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . ''People forgets by the time the loss you faced.  '' So True! Everything seems fine on this sandy beach like any other evening in orange shade. Laughter can be heard by everyone but no one can listen scream. ' ' Hey Sea, You swallowed him, I wont' forgive you even if your waves touches my feet Million times''                                                 Shadorma   (Syllable- 3-5-3-3-7-5)                                                                             (In context with the Fiction written above) The time's lap Makes everything  Oblivion  I'm martyr An exception, I lament  Grieve! Lost someone The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and

जिंदगी क्या भरोसा?

  पल पल चलती जिंदगी का क्या भरोसा? कौन सा पल अंतिम होगा क्या भरोसा? जिंदगी छोटी है.. कितनी छोटी है ये जिंदगी क्या भरोसा? जिंदगी खेल है, जिसका कई लोगों से मेल है , बहुत  कुछ सिखाती है , बहुत कुछ बताती है , बहुत कुछ  छुपाती  है  ये  जिंदगी , कौन सा  पल  सच्चा  है  , कौन  सा  जूठा .. क्या  भरोसा ? चलती -  चलाती  आगे  बढ़ाती   गाढ़ी   है  जिंदगी , किस  मोड़  पर  आके  रुके  क्या  भरोसा ? एक  पल  ख़ुशी  , एक  पल  उदासी , एक  पल  प्यार , एक  पल  खटास  है  ये  जिंदगी . जिंदगी  पहेली  है , जिसने  पहचान  ली  वो  इसकी   सहेली  है , जिंदगी  बिजली  की   रफ़्तार  चलती  है  जिसके  आगे  अच्छे  - अच्छों  की  नहीं  चलती  है .. एक  पल  से  एक  पल  का  सिलसिला  है  जिंदगी , वक़्त   से  किस्मत  का  फासला  है  जिंदगी , कब  कौन  सा   हादसा  हो  जाये  क्या  भरोसा ?