Ink Drift August

AUGUST 2017
CONFESSIONS
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Issue - 1
Volume II

CONFESSIONS
Volume 2 | Issue 01 | August
CONTENTS
MELANCHOLY...........................................PAGE 1
Sakshi Upadhyay
CUTS AND BRUISES...............................PAGE 2
Nandhitha Hemanthkumar
INDECENT LOVE......................................PAGE 3
Roney Oenophile + 1
WISHING FOR BLOODY........................PAGE 4
Kasy Long
A LETTER TO MYSELF............................PAGE 5
Paridhi Puri
I HATE THE BAD ROOM........................PAGE 7
Kayenat Patil
THEY FEARED.........................................PAGE 9
Shilpa Mazumdar
THE CONFESSION.............................PAGE 11
Viniti Rajwani
CONFESSION OF A MILLEN...........PAGE 13
Husain Rokadia
ANKUR KUMAR....................................PAGE 14
An Interview
BOOKS TO READ.................................PAGE 18
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Section One
POETRY
“I wish for my calendar to be
accurate
when the blood is supposed to
arrive. ”

Issue 1 - Confessions
Melancholy
Melancholy
Sakshi Upadhyay
I sabotage myself by seeing you with her,
covering it up with saying “it’s just to feed my curiosity”,
it is like enjoying pain which in this case is entirely mental.
The more I see them, the more my inside burns and leave
it filled with agony.
It’s like a real fire has been lit up which no amount of water
can put up off,
yet here I am unable to control or should I say eager to see
you,
even if it means her on your side and Every single time it
hurts, it aches but I continue,
like you are some narcotic substance and I am an addict.
Yes I am guilty of wanting you,
even when you were never mine to have,
yes I am guilty of wishing for you,
even when I knew it was unfair,
yes I am guilty of praying for you,
even when I am an atheist,
yes I am guilty of falling for you,
even when you asked me to stay away,
yes I am guilty of losing myself even when the maps were
clear.
but,
yes I am stronger now,
because I have to,
yes I haven’t moved on yet, but eventually I will ,
because I have to,
yes I still have hopes and dreams to fulfill,
because I WANT TO.
And I know how it feels like to be stuck in that infinite
time and space of “not getting over “
but it’s just a matter of that same time,
I will be grateful to you for this,
but until then let me be buried alive
with that aching heart and longing eyes.
PAGE 1
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Cuts and Bruises
Issue 1- Confessions
Cuts and Bruises
Nandhitha Hemanthkumar
A cut , a bruise for each mistake;
Doesn’t ease the pain nor wipe tears away.
Few more strikes- one ,two, three-
Hoping and praying the scars will remind me.
Patches of crosses and knicks litter my arms,
I stare at the mirror; furious and alarmed.
I remember each cut, each colour changing
spot
The memory behind them long lost.
Hand trembles as I clutch the handle-
Cold against my skin.
Eyes closed,I focus on the memory,
I keep the cuts thin.
Words repeat in a broken loop;
They circle around​ my head.
I repeat the words as the blood thins…
Whispering - never to be heard.
Already knowing, I will be here again;
Crying - breaking - astray .
Mistakes will repeat; new ones will follow;
This is my bitter pill to swallow.
PAGE 2
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Issue 1 - Confessions
Indecent Love
Indecent Love
Roney Oenophile/Priya Acharjee
In lonely, sunny afternoon, shower your kisses
On my drought heart and heal the scorched
‘Me’; burning for the heat of love,
To sow the seed of intimacy and
Let the plant of our love grow in the womb of fire.
Your kisses are what I am hungry of.
Your love is the light that I conceived in my body
Like photosynthesis,
Let’s mix up this light and love in us
To make the food for our soul;
And quench our age old hunger.
So permit me to be the outcome of cloudburst
To Sprinkle my love with indecent kisses
Approbating you to ravish me bad,
To gratify you for your yearning lust, and
Your dried up desires for somatic thirst.
Let the light of love illuminate
The dark soul we have
And meld our love to bear the fruit
Of our ecstatic relishes
Let us quench this culminated hunger
That we have been craving for so long.
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Wishing for Blood
Issue 1 - Confessions
Wishing for Blood
Kasy Long
I flip a new page on my calendar each
month,
but know the headaches, fatigue, cramps
and the fresh white pad won’t be in my
future.
I wish for my calendar to be accurate
when the blood is supposed to arrive.
Later I wish for those ten fingers,
those ten toes, that healthy heart
pumping blood to a new brain.
Two lungs, a stomach waiting
for its first drop of white milk
from my breast. I wish for a hand
to wrap around my finger.
I wait for my turn—wish for the blood
to show I’m ovulating.
I swallow the Clomid pills, sign my name
at the fertility clinic,
and toss the negative pregnancy test
into the empty wastebasket.
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PAGE 4
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Issue 1 - Confessions
A Letter to Myself
A Letter to Myself
Paridhi Puri
Hey, hey, here you are, lying in the middle of a half thought of-hiatus,
shouldering the weight of words, a forlorn author had meant for someone
else, of course. You choose to write letters mistaking them for others,
but to end up dedicated only to you.
At midnight, when the exhausted sigh and the broken breathe, the insomnia running
in your veins makes you rage like a bull trampling its hooves on the civilization.
You lie down, investigating the lives of a person you’ll never know, or
reading about people who cannot be read.
Those black eyes laugh with glee when they see full marks dancing on the top of
their exam paper. Hey, hey.
Those lips curve into a deliberate smile when they see a mention of their name
as the crazy person who shouts on the top of her lungs and sits on the floor in the
classroom and chooses words over wear any day.
Hey, hey, there you are punctuated by the clauses of a thousand deadlines, assignments
and work, but still you choose Adam Levine’s voice over everything
else as the particles drown in the delight and desperation of you mastering the
moves only meant for Moves like Jagger.
I see you proceed there, in front of the mirror, as you make silly faces and basically
acknowledge that you’re a dork and oh foolish maiden, you then proceed
to hide your red face as the maid catches you scrunching your eyebrows like a
madwoman.
A plethora of playthings, you make and take within you every day.
What a wonder, you are.
Regards
Myself
PAGE 5
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Section Two
STORIES
“I’m stuck here forever.
The bad room is just how I remembered
it to be.”

Issue 1 - Confessions
I Hate the Bad Room That Rain
I Hate the Bad Room That
Rain
Kayenat Patil
I
knew it was somewhere between ten minutes and two years, but I did notice
the subtle change in behavior. Don’t get me wrong, I’m super affectionate
and I love to cuddle but something was definitely different today. I was
woken up by the bright yellow ball on the see through wall, so I jumped on the
bed to wake Mommy up. Now, usually she would pull the fluffy sheet closer and
try to stop me from waking her, but today she wasn’t in her bed.
Where is she? Oh no! I panicked and started running around the house looking
for her. I called out to her, but I couldn’t find her. Then sometime between
thirty seconds and four months I found her. I was so happy, yay! She didn’t get
lost around the house. I sometimes get lost around the house, but don’t tell that
to Mommy. I ran with all my power towards her and showered her with hugs
and kisses, oh my god! I was so worried, but thankfully she arrived. She hugged
me back and put her arms around me. She pulled me up on the bed and started
talking to me. I couldn’t understand most of what she was saying, I tried paying
attention to her, I really did, but it was just so boring. I started looking here and
there for something more interesting and fun for us to do than talk.
Aha! A ball, I saw my favorite ball peeking from the corner of the huge, shinny,
scary wall. I crept my way towards my ball, avoiding the scary wall and ran
back to Mommy and handed it to her. I prayed that she would agree to play
with me. But she just kept the ball under the fluffy sheet and walked towards,
oh no! Not that room. I tried to stop her, I called out to her but she just ignored
me and went into the bad room.
All I know about that room is that it’s bad. We live in a house that is covered
in all sides but it still rains in that room. I hate that room, like I hate rains.
Everyday I try to keep her safe by stopping her from going into that room, but
she never listens to me and when she comes out shes always has tears, but
strangely, they are all over her body. I hate to see her cry so, I do my very best
to cheer her up, but she doesn’t listen to me. So, whenever she comes out, I try
to console her, but she shoos me away.
I guess Mommy doesn’t want me to see her cry, but I still do it anyway because I
love her. She usually takes a lot of time in that room so, I patiently wait outside
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I Hate the Bad Room That Rain
Issue 1 - Confessions
“I’m stuck here forever.
The bad room is just how I remembered
it to be.”
for her. However, today was different, she was out earlier that usual and she
wasn’t crying from all over her body. It was a good thing that mommy didn’t
cry today. I am so happy for her. It was still a bit strange as it it was our routine,
she would come out with tears all over her body and I would try to cheer her
up and make her happy and she’d try to get rid of me, but I didn’t mind that, I
love her and if she doesn’t want me to see cry then that’s totally fine, as long as
she continues loving me, but the situation turned even stranger. She called me
towards her. So strange! She never lets me near her after she goes into the bad
room. She gently picked me up and cuddled me. I love cuddles and kisses and
long walks and food.
Oh no! Shes taking me inside the bad room. I need to get away! And that too
quickly! I squirm and try to free myself from her grasp, but she has held me
very tightly. No! I cried out to her and almost freed myself but it was too late. I
was already in the bad room. No! Don’t close the door! How do I get out now?
Crap! I’m stuck here forever. The bad room is just how I remembered it to be.
Bad! Uh oh! Mommy is putting me into the big bowl of tears! No! I don’t want
to go there. Please Mommy stop, I’ll be a good boy I promise! I don’t even bite
anymore! I swear! But Mommy didn’t listen to me.
I have a confession, I don’t like rains or getting wet by that huge bowl of tears!
Why can’t you hoomans understand that?
Ruff ruff.
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Issue 1 - Confessions
They Feared
They Feared
Shilpa Mazumdar
She woke up with a shudder. She could still hear a loud music being played
outside her room mixed with voices of girls and boys singing to the tunes
of a song, in a distorted manner. They seem to be drunk. They might be
celebrating somebody’s birthday.
She felt an intense urge to go out and get some fresh air. She wished if she
could take some deep breaths to soothe her inner self. She was frightened and
weary. She took out her laptop and hoped to continue her work on the ongoing
project where she is appointed as an intern.
The last thing that she remembers about it is, that it all started two weeks ago,
on a hazy Saturday morning. It had been a couple of weeks since they were here.
There were ten of them. They had been selected from all over the country to
work on a project on water sharing over international boundaries. She shared
the same floor with Tanya and they were the only girls on that floor. They did
not know all of them. They were familiar only with two boys. Abhishek being
one of them was a nice lad. He helped them in getting a hang of the important
nearby places. He often took them out to buy groceries and helped them
with other chores. The other friend, Mayank left three days before Saturday.
Mayank was a chap who talked less, so he was not missed much. They were
enjoying the campus, tourist spots, hangout places and of course the food, life
at the new work was good with everything in place.
She was in a deep sleep that Saturday morning when she was awakened by the
loud knocks on her door. Her video chat was still active with Nikhil since she
fell asleep in the middle of it. She cut the call and typed a message, “I Miss you.”
To her it seemed that there is nobody but the cleaners. It had been a week they
had not turned up for room cleaning. She opened the door and was shocked to
see barefooted Tanya with untidy hair, moist eyes and a petrified look on her
face.
“Sakshi, someone came inside.” And then Tanya started sobbing. She was clueless.
She checked her phone. It was 5.25 in the morning. Pretty early for Tanya
to wake up for work.
“What’s the matter, Tanya? Tell me. Had a bad dream? Why are you barefooted?
Drink some water. Come inside.”
“Sakshi, he came inside. He tried to lift my top. Believe me. I just want to leave”,
Tanya spoke in a terrified voice “I screamed. But he ran away and took the
stairs. I could not follow him. I don’t want to stay here.”
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They Feared
Issue 1 - Confessions
She did not know how to react. It was difficult to believe that something like
this could happen in an institution of this repute. She tried to get the things
correctly.
“Tanya, tell me, how could someone get inside without opening the door? Did
you not lock it last night?”
“I did. But I was not getting much of sleep today. I went to get some water at
about 5 ‘o’clock. I was reading a book after that in my room. I did not latch the
door but closed it properly.” Tanya replied, still crying.
“Okay, fine. Can you identify the guy? I heard many of them partying last night
near my room. Maybe someone too drunk did this. We will inform the authorities.
Nothing to worry.”
She always took this upfront position when it came to standing for a right cause.
“No, Sakshi. I could only see his red t-shirt and blue pants. I don’t want to tell
anybody and I am leaving today only. I am going to call Papa.” Tanya went out,
almost running.
She left the campus that very evening. Sakshi informed the authorities about
the incident. But without the victim’s statement, they were reluctant about
even investigating such matters.
She asked Abhishek for help. He seemed more concerned about his career. He
refused, saying, “ I don’t want to get involved in your ‘social work’.” What if
they think of me as a rebel and my grades go down?”
She had been busy with work after that and the thing just got out of her mind.
And now there are six more days to go and it is again a weekend. Tomorrow will
be a Saturday morning. And some people are busy getting drunk just outside
her room. That incident with Tanya was just a repercussion of heavy partying.
Tanya left out of fear.
She is stuck inside her room out of fear.
The authorities feared that they might end up accusing the wrong person or
their institute may be defamed.
Abhishek feared that his image may go wrong in the institute if he spoke against
such matters.
But how long?
How long do we take to overcome our fears and speak up?
It’s the time to think.
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Issue 12 - Confessions
The Confession
The Confession
Viniti Rajwani
Have you ever read a common word that suddenly starts to lose its meaning,
just when you need it to strike a note within or inspire a flame of
thought? As I start to write this piece I feel like I’m already running
out of words or perhaps there are just way too many of them swarming in my
head that I’m just unable to find the perfect combination to string along and
adequately express my thoughts.
Why are people so afraid of confessions? Is embarrassment the worst thing
you can feel towards yourself? As an infant we all were able to express a range
of emotions without being timid, so why do we lose the capability to openly
practice the same set of emotions when we have grown past about twenty odd
years? Emotions that were naturally ingrained in us- with brutal honesty as
adults? Why do we hide behind lies and secrets fuelled by insecurities?
In am an attempt to contemplate the answers to these odd but important questions,
I realized that this is a generic flaw in us all. Everyone has at some time
in their life fallen short of their own standards and judged themselves way
too aggressively for it. I too have monsters under my bed, monsters I created,
monsters I aggravated and monsters I had sown in my heart. Even so, I’ve paid
my dues, the ugly ones too.
I let my bully turn me into a bully, and at the time I believed I was doing the
right thing, standing up and fighting for myself after spending way too much
time feeling helpless and self-pity. I felt a sense of empowerment in sabotaging
her for ill-treating me for what was a majority of my school life.
She was my classmate and we would spend a lot of fun filled bus rides home
from school, sleepovers; and I always found myself connecting amicably with
her, although only as long as we were not around a group of our close friends.
I could never understand why she had developed such a distaste for me in a
public setting when we got along so well while we were together. She began to
dominate and somehow always managed to exclude me from all activities as a
group.
It had gone one for too long, in all this time I couldn’t ever figure out why things
had to change so much. Then one day out of nowhere I got an opportunity to
learn why she felt that way about me. In hindsight, I could’ve just called her
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The Confession
Issue 1 - Confessions
out on her behaviour and directly asked her, but teenage me didn’t know any
better, obviously. She threw her personal diary in the bin in front of me. You
must know that my intention was only to learn, to get insight of her feelings
towards me to be able to fix it somehow, so I did what every un-god-fearing
person would do; I retrieved her diary from the bin and read through it.
To my surprise, I didn’t find much about me, there was barely any mention
about how much she disliked me. That baffled me, for one simple reason which
was that she had actively spent enough time trying to exclude me from all social
circles even though she didn’t hate me enough. She wasn’t very fond of me
even then, for reasons I still don’t know but it wasn’t a huge deal. Anyway, I
could’ve still showed compassion and spoken to her about it but I chose to humiliate
her instead by spreading her personal insecurities throughout my class.
I turned into the monster that I had spent years fighting. It shaped my school
life or lack thereof.
She obviously found out and the discovery was translated into an obvious fury.
We had an altercation, she used her hands. I deserved it so I didn’t retaliate.
But the point is nothing really came out of it. We won’t ever get along, and I still
do not even understand why. The point is I wish I had levelled with her, at the
right time, opened up and expressed my distress that she was causing.
However, I learnt from that experience, I learnt to express my feelings when
necessary, I learnt to not aggravate and ugly situation by adding more to it. I
learnt to acknowledge my demons and in that meaning tame them. That’s the
best we can do.
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Issue 1 - Confession
Confession of a Millennial
Confession of a Millennial
Husain Rokadia
We have come a long way from the analogue landlines to touch-screen
mobile devices, from steam engines to high speed bullet trains, from
“who let the dogs out” to “shape of you” & “despacito”, from Orkut to
Facebook and Instagram and from meeting at the coffee house to video conferencing,
somewhere we lost track of ourselves and have become this instant
gratification addicts. Be it food, a walk in a park or even a tough bowel movement,
we are right there to “post” it all, “snapchat” it or even write about it on
our “wall”, pun intended.
What once stood true for the World Wide Web (www.) bringing us closer has
become its own bane. We are all connected yet so distant, the information of the
world fits in our palm but we do not know our own neighbours. Our need and
desire for instant gratification has made us beasts, whose hunger for likes, upvotes,
shares, subscribers & followers never end. Self-respect is often measured
by the amount of number of likes and comments. This urge for instant-gratification
has torn us apart in addicted, self-doubting individuals who value their
self-worth as per public response to a selfie or a clever comment.
Twitter has become the twisted version of a Salon. What once used to be a contest
of minds has become a shouting competition. Let’s not even get started on
tolerance issue these days. There is almost nothing you can say that will not
offend someone these days, be it a die-hard political “karyakarta” (fan) or a
Bollywood personality or a public figure. The time of respecting another’s views
have long gone for us.
The digital world has mesmerized us beyond belief, our romance has become
sexting, our trust has become displaced in people who like our “DP”, we have
lost the value of conversations, sadly small talk has become deep.
Some might think we already know about this, why even write/talk about it.
But, we need to talk about it because accepting the problem is the first step in
its correction.
We have been blessed with the best of intelligence, capability and emotional
strength of our world yet we squander our virtues when we could achieve so
much, because it bears more value to believe in it and do something about it
than like a picture/post that alarms you of some wrong amidst us.
It is time we gather ourselves and rise above this petty desire for likes, upvotes,
comments, re-tweets, etc. and build a society on gratification of merit and virtue.
This is the Confession of the Gen Y.
PAGE 13
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Ankur Kumar
Issue 1 - Confession
Ankur Kumar
An Interview
An interview of newbie writer
Mr. Ankur Kumar, a student of
National Institute of Technology,
Rourkela conducted by Ms. Nikita
D’Monte (Editor in Chief- Ink Drift Magazine).
Currently interning at Ministry
of Earth Science, Delhi, his début novel,
“The Emotions” has been published by
Dream House Publications in March ‘17.
Editor: Hello Mr. Kumar, Congratulations
on your novel, “The
Emotions”.
Let’s begin with a short introduction.
Please tell us a little about
yourself.
Ankur Kumar: Thank you, ma’am.
I am Ankur Kumar and have spent 23
years of my life in the crowd of kind
hearted and sweet people. I am in the
second year of my master’s degree in
Earth and Atmospheric Sciences pursuing
degree from National Institute of
Technology, Rourkela.
I am like a person that if someone asks
me to choose one out of my sister (blood
relation or not) and my girlfriend/lover
then without thinking over a single fraction
of second I would choose MY sister.
I can do anything (=everything) for my
sister’s happiness.
I am a bit studious too. I should correct
myself. I was a bit studious. Writing
WAS not my passion. I didn’t want to
write but the situations in my life, forced
me to write something.
Editor: Tell us a little about your
novel. (A short excerpt or what your
story is about in general)
Ankur Kumar: “The Emotions” is a novel
which is based on the ‘pure non blood relation
of brother and sister’.
Everyone is busy in writing their own
love stories but very few people are there
who are trying to put other precious relation
in a form so that other people can
understand the relation. In this novel, I
have tried to redefine the same relation of
bro-sis which we always expect from our
blood siblings.
This story revolves around the narrator
and protagonist, Aadarsh. He doesn’t
have his blood relation sister. This is a
story of his craving, yearning and unconditional
love for the sister relation.
Editor: What made you write a novel
on this theme? What was your inspiration?
Ankur Kumar: I told you previously that
I never wanted to write but my life forced
me in the writing career. From the time
when I started understanding the relation,
there is always a special place in my
heart for the sister relation. I thought that
I am different from others and caring for
this relation a bit more than other people
do.
You always want those things which you
don’t have in your life and people who
have that thing may not understand the
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Issue 1 - Confession
Ankur Kumar
importance of it. In the same way, I don’t
have a blood relation sister. Sometimes,
I feel jealous of those boys who have a
sister. From day one of my life, which I
remember, I always wished to have a sister.
I also want to pull her hair, to tease
her. I also want to spend some time with
her, I want to play with her, as other
boys do. In general, I want to experience
sister’s love.
7 years back, I started to consider a girl
as my sister, just to complete my dream
of having a sister. The journey of building
this story starts form that day.
There is a motive behind writing this
novel is just to tell other people about
the existence of this non blood relation
in our society. My motive was my inspiration
at the time when I was stuck in
between writing the manuscript.
Editor: Did you ever feel like giving
up? Like the writing process was
too tiring or just not meant to be?
Ankur Kumar: There were few times,
when I used to write night after night
and in the morning, I questioned myself
that, “What will happen if I won’t get any
good publisher? What will I say to those
people, if all publishers refuse to publish
this story, who I told about my upcoming
novel?” I didn’t have the answer of
these questions. At that time, there was
always a fight between my mind and my
heart. My heart wanted to write a novel
and my mind wanted to study hard for
the desired course, for which I was admitted
in the institute. I always had the
fear of failure, because I was writing on
this topic for the very first time among
all the Indian Authors.
According to me, if you want to achieve
something in your life, then the first
thing to ask to yourself is, “WHY AM I
DOING THIS?” I had the answer to this
question.
Having a good story is not the only pre
requisite to writing a novel. But you must
have a determined reason to put down
your views in a novel. I had a good and
unique story from the last 4-5 years but
previously I hadn’t had a specific reason
to write. Something unexpected happened
in someone’s life which enforced
me to write a novel. That unpredicted
thing is the reason why I wrote this novel.
You can easily guess the reason just
by turning few pages of this novel, “The
Emotions.” And when you have a perfect
reason to do something, then you never
care about the time, dedication and
patience. It inevitably comes within the
purpose for completing your dreams.
Editor: What was your inspiration
in such times?
Ankur Kumar: My inspiration was just
my motive. I want to change the mind
of our society (one step makes a difference).
My sisters are of my age group. If
I am in a mall or in a shop with my sister
to gift her dresses or I am spending my
lunch time with my sister, then automatically
our society starts assuming that
these two must be a couple. This is one
of the things which I hate the most about
our society. To change these people who
pre-assumed every relation was also my
motive to write about this relation. This
is still my motive for my future works.
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Ankur Kumar
Issue 1 - Confession
Editor: Are you planning any more
publications in the future?
Ankur Kumar: Yes. I am working on my
second script and planning to launch
in first week of November. And after
this one, I am planning in the corner of
my mind to write the true story of ‘Delhi
Nirbhaya Gang Rape Case’. This will
take time and probably to launch in the
middle of the next year.
Editor: What are your goals as an
author?
Ankur Kumar: With my writing, I just
want to be a mode to convey reality to
the audience—which they already know
but our society forced them to think in
another manner.
Editor: What problem did you face
while publishing your debut novel?
Ankur Kumar: I sent the proposal to few
publishing house during the time when I
was half-way with my script. In the middle
of October, I got rejection from few
publishing team. After that, I stopped
writing for two weeks. In the meantime,
I hated myself. I regretted my decision
of giving preference to the novel, instead
of studying hard for the course.
Later, I got acceptance from 2 publishing
house. And then I again started to
complete my manuscript. I read the contracts
of both publishing houses. And finally
I decided to move on with Dream
House Publications (DHP). The whole
team of DHP aided me very well to publish
this novel. The actual launch date of
this novel is 3rd April 2017. But just for
my event, DHP team worked night and
day, for a week at least, to prepare the copies
of our novel for the book launch event.
I didn’t tell about my upcoming novel to
my parents, even when I signed the contract
with the publishing team. I told my
parents just a month before the launch
date, March 08, 2017 (International Women’s
Day) of this novel.
I changed the title of my novel at least
4-5 times during this journey. Previously
it was, “I do love you, but I can’t”, “The
Rhythm of Heartbeats”, “My heart hurts”
etc. and later we finalised “The Emotions”.
Editor: An author’s work is always
almost inspired by personal life.
Your take on the statement. Was
your work inspired by your life?
Ankur Kumar: The story is inspired by my
life and it’s a true story. But my work and
decision to write a novel is inspired by seeing
the young successful authors, of my age
group, like Savi Sharma.
Editor: Your mantra for a successful
life would be?
Ankur Kumar: I am not in the list of those
people who blindly believe in luck. Luck is
one the factor to have a successful life but
luck is not only the factor. Luck is not in
our hands. But doing the work with dedication
is in our hands. I still believe in
doing the things rather than thinking or
dreaming about it.
Apart from this, I was a person who loved
to dream, always. But I changed myself. I
still dream with my open eyes, but to some
extent.
Editor: Do you read much and who’s
PAGE 16
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Issue 1 - Confession
Ankur Kumar
your favourite author/poet? (if
any)
Ankur Kumar: I am doing my masters
and have lots of things to study for the
course. But still I take out a few hours
from my schedule to read the novels and
magazines. I have read the novels of different
authors but I am very impressed
with Sudeep Nagarkar Sir’s work.
Editor: Which famous person, living
or dead would you like to meet
and why?
Ankur Kumar: Mmm… There are too
many people in this list. But I want to
be like Shahrukh Khan Sir. I am following
him not because he has fame, money
and too many followers but the way he
builds himself, in his field, from the bottom
to that level where every newborn
star wants to become like him.
I don’t want to be an actor. I want to do
that level of work with the same determination
as how Srk Sir did/is doing in
his career.
cluded?
Ankur Kumar: Nothing else. And again
thanks a lot for giving me this opportunity.
Editor: How can readers discover more
about you and you work?
Facebook: www.facebook.com/theemotionsbyankur
Twitter: @ankur017k
Amazon book link: http://amzn.to/2ttyXjG
Thank you very much for taking the time
out of your busy schedule to take part in
this interview.
Editor: Who edited your book and
how did you select him/her?
Ankur Kumar: Nita Samantary (Author
of ‘Printed Chemistry’ and the CEO of
‘Creative Coach’), a member of the editing
team of Dream House publication,
edited this novel. She spent her precious
time to edit this novel. I am saying this
because her marriage came in between
of the editing schedule. Her keenness
headed for her work made this novel to
launch on the scheduling date.
Editor: Is there anything else you
would like to add that I haven’t in-
PAGE 17
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Lost Callahan by Aaaksa Karuna Shah
Issue 1 - Confessions
Books To Read
Lost Callahan (2015)
by Aaksa Karuna Shah
4.8/5 Stars
Emma, Saphy, Ilesha, Yukti, and
David are living peacefully under
the same roof until a severe
tragedy hits them. Something
happens to Emma. Saphy loses
her best friend. Ilesha moves out.
Yukti is left to face the most challenging
part of her life. Amidst
the chaos, Saphy sets out to find
her lost friend - to embark upon a quest for memories that
are lost, a journey towards happiness. On the other hand,
Sean is looking for something to lose, sulking about the
memories from the past. With a hidden connection that he
holds with her childhood friend, he writes the best chapter
in Emma’s life - to help her reach out to her memories, and
discover the lost Callahan within her. The novel is a gripping
tale of everlasting love and friendship which is found
and lost, only to be found again.
Buy the title today on Amazon, Flipkart, B&N etc.
www.aaksakarunashah.com
PAGE 18
www.inkdrift.com

Issue 1 - Confession
Beyond The Veil by Siddhi Palande
Books To Read
Beyond The Veil
(2017)
by Siddhi Palande
4.7/5 Stars
A Lawyer by profession, Janhvi
Desai has lived her life on the
dictates of her family. Assuming
that marriage will bring in freshness
and freedom she gets married
to a Mumbai based engineer,
Ram. But once again faces wrath
of the society. Every passing day
as Janhvi Desai - Raghuvanshi, her self-esteem diminishes
as her dreams get trampled upon. But while finding the
meaning of her being her relationship with her estranged
husband takes a beautiful turn. Between Ram and Janhvi
rests a delicate secret and an irrevocable difference. But
some relationships thrive despite the difference. Delve into
the dysfunctional world of an Indian girl where patriarchy
is villain, free will far removed, where two bruised souls
meet and it is only to change the definition of soul mate.
Buy the title today on Amazon, Flipkart, B&N etc.
PAGE 19
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2017 © All Rights Reserved

The sinner will not confess,
nor will the priest receive
his confession, if the veil of
secrecy is removed
- DeWitt Clinton
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