22 Oct 2017

Latest Review | The Last Nomad

Here's the latest review of The Last Nomad by Dalvi Namita​ and Shobha Dravid!

Glad you enjoyed the book. With this the book now achieves a Goodreads rating of 4.71. :-)

"The Last Nomad, book is indeed very engaging ...storyline has all emotions from love to respect... mainly highlighting a woman’s role in everyone’s life and also respect that she deserves to be given....A must read book..."
-Namita Dalvi

"Heramb, your book, is enthralling, to put it mildly. It runs the whole gamut of experiences, from the mundane to the mystical. Rahul's childhood experiences are so true to what's happening in poor people's lives, and as Ryan, his poetry and his spiritual glimpses are what I identified with."
‐Shobha Dravid

Get your copies today!
Paperback: Call/text on +91 9594 545351
 #bookreviews #Goodreads



- The Last Nomad

18 Oct 2017

Poem: Arrival

The feeling of arrival is but a fleeting one
Till the time it sinks in deep, it's time to return
Look around, my friend
They are all travellers like you
Happily believing they'll be at their destination
The feeling of arrival is fleeting, my friend
One day, all travellers must return home



-  The Last Nomad

17 Oct 2017

The Namesake | You Haven't Heard The Best Tales

As I was watching Mira Nair's The Namesake (2006) this weekend, there was one particular scene which struck me and is haunting me since then. I'll tell you why but before that, here's the scene.

It's where young Gogol and his father, Ashoke (Irrfan Khan), are on the stone walk at the Cape Cod beach and Ashima (Tabu) is watching them from a distance, standing near the car with her young daughter.

She says, "Don't go so far that I cannot see you! He is too little."

When Ashoke reaches near the end of the stone walk with Gogol, he's disappointed after realizing that he has forgotten the camera in the car. He says something like, "We forgot the camera. Now you will have to remember that we came here."

"How long do I have to remember?" asks Gogol.

"We will have to remember it, then." He tells Gogol, "Try to remember it always... remember that you and I made this journey, that we went together to a place where there was nowhere left to go."

So, on the last day of my trip, 6000+ miles away from home, as I am walking down the street which was cloudy until now suddenly I see spring arrive in its true sense. The street and trees which were all grey and dry are suddenly blooming and the sky is shining deep blue with sparse clouds.

I, the shutterbug, don't have a camera with me and the mobile phone is unable to capture the scale of the scene.

And then this dialogue from The Namesake starts in my head. Yes, it's true, the deep beautiful experiences we have will always go unrecorded.

We will have to remember them always, like Gogol.

The best tales haven't been told yet. They are the ones we all must live.


- The Last Nomad

3 Oct 2017

Poem: You are an Old Tree


You are but an old true
With roots gone deep and far
Breathing through every pore
Giving this earth fresh air

Don't deny it and be unfair
For hundeds of your sons and daughter
Are living on your arms in despair
But you assume you are a stupid human

Humans who drive axes on their own feet
No matter many a times you speak
Their mistakes they repeat
You'll come down to the ground if you pay no heed

Why do you horde so many fruits
And breathe heavy under their burden?
When you could give them all
And see your children dance with joy

But you'll succumb to your wants
As that's every miser's fate
Before you go at least once listen
You are but an old tree

- The Last Nomad

15 Sep 2017

...and the Journey is Becoming Beautiful Every Day!

...and the Journey is Becoming Beautiful Every Day!


Here's another excerpt from The Last Nomad
---------------------------
It turned out to be the first night he spent with a girl.
‘What do you want me to play?’ asked Rebecca, opening the violin case.

Being a street musician, she was used to a variety of responses from the passersby: catcalls, claps, and nasty suggestive looks. But she was surprised by Ryan’s strange demand: he wanted her to play solely for him all through the night. And her first thought while secretly hiding the pepper spray under the pillow was, he must either be a psychopath or a heartbroken lover.

‘Sometimes, I get unwelcome touches while being engrossed in playing. But I know, these men are more scared and broken than me,’ she said, talking about her daily life.

‘Crazy thoughts don’t allow me to play. Why don’t these men come up and frankly say things to me? At least I will have company for the night,’ she added.
---------------------------

It's been 2 years since the book was published and the journey is becoming beautiful every day.

To receive your copy, get in touch on +91 9594 5453 51.


- The Last Nomad

4 Sep 2017

Reading at Katha Kathan's Open Mic

Nothing could have made this weekend more special than discovering Jameel Gulrays sir's Katha Kathan.

After having planned for several months to attend at least one of their events, I finally happened to be at their Baithak on Teacher.

Katha Kathan is an initiative by Jameel Gulrays sir and his team to revive the Indian language literature.

Here's the poem I read along with the translation.

तूच तुझा गुरू हो

कोण शिष्य कोण गुरू
आभासाच्या बाजारी मांडलेले
तू आणि मी, मातीची फक्त बोलके घट
घडवणारा, विकणारा आणि विकत घेणारा एकच
सर्वत्र तूच आहेस हे जाण आणि तूच तुझा गुरू हो

पण त्या आधी
या बाजारात वावरताना थोडा सावध हो
जी रिकामी मडकी शेंदूर फासून देव झालीयेत
ती फुटून जाऊ देत स्वतःच, पोकळ असण्याच्या जाणिवेने
मग उरेल फक्त माती आणि ती पुन्हा एकच सत्य सांगेल
सर्वत्र तूच आहेस हे जाण आणि तूच तुझा गुरू हो

पण अखंडाच्या जाणिवेत विरघळण्याधी जरा थांब
त्या फुटलेल्या घटातून ध्वनित होणारा नाद नीट ऐक
त्या नादातही तुझ्याच असण्याचं गाणं आहे
तुला सतत पडणाऱ्या सुखाच्या भुकेच्या प्रश्नांना उत्तराची गरजच काय?
हे प्रश्न तुझ्या त्याच विस्मरणातून निर्माण होतायत
सर्वत्र तू आणि फक्त तूच आहेस हे जाण आणि तूच तुझा गुरू हो

मला वाटलंच होतं, तू अजून इथेच रेंगाळणार
पण पुन्हा नवीन घट होण्याची आस कशाला?
आणि माती होण्याची भीतीही का?
तुला एक क्षणही नासण्याचं पुसटसं स्मरण तरी आहे का?
तू आणि फक्त तूच आहेस, हे आता तरी जाण आणि तूच तुझा गुरू हो

[Translation]

Be your own teacher

Who can tell the difference between a student and a teacher?
Arranged in the market of illusion
You and me, are speaking pots of clay
The maker, seller, and buyer are the same
Realise that you are everywhere and be your own guru

But wait
Be careful when treading the streets of this market
Let the empty pots, coloured in vermilion, which have become gods
Break after realising their own emptiness
And all that will be left is the soil, speaking the only truth
Realise that you are everywhere and be your own guru

Wait a moment before dissolving in the realisation of the unbound
Listen carefully to the sound coming from the broken pots
In that sound is the song of your being
What is the need to find solutions to the questions of hunger for happiness, that hound you all the time?
These questions are born from your same forgetfulness
Realise that you are everywhere and be your own guru

I was certain, that you'll still be loitering here
Why the desire to become a new pot?
And why dread of becoming the soil?
Do you even have a faint memory of non-existence?
It's time you realise that it's only you who are everywhere and be your own guru



- The Last Nomad

30 Aug 2017

Excerpt #2 from The Last Nomad

The recent event (Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh being convicted for rape and sentenced to 20 years in jail) is a tip of the iceberg.

Here's an excerpt #2 from The Last Nomad, written last year, which delves deeper into why we humans fall prey to such beastly tendencies.

This post is in no way directed towards publicizing the book.

"Shyamsundar Baba’s Durbar gave them as an easy opportunity. It would soon become the first option they would turn to, be it problems conceiving a child, praying that their husbands find a good job or relief from constant quarrels, and a chain of diseases. But more than miraculous solutions, they had found a space to let out all their angst, fears and insecurities at the feet of this godman.

Seeing the success of this new business model, a numbers of such godmen were already in the making. People from all faiths were more drawn towards these underground places of redemption than well established places of worship. Who wouldn’t choose a god in flesh and bone, promising instant life change, over praying for years and waiting for grace?

Betrayed by the politicians, time and again, the masses saw in these godmen a new ground to invest their faith. Seeing their victims gathered in huge numbers, the vote-hungry vultures could no longer ignore the godmen. After repeated failed promises of electricity, water, and better roads, appeasing the godmen and their followers was now an easy way to ensure victory in the upcoming municipal corporation elections. And the SOS party’s candidate, Purushottam Joshi, was at the forefront in serving Shyamsundar Baba. The alchemy of faith is indeed strange."

- The Last Nomad

26 Aug 2017

An excerpt from The Last Nomad



Festivals transformed Shantinagar although only for some days. Be it Onam, Pongal, Eid or Diwali, all the residents of Shantinagar enjoyed every bit of it. These were the only moments they could escape into a world more colourful than the one they were surviving in. Stronger than the uniting power of religious diversity and brotherhood, as many assumed, it was the struggle for basic necessities which held all the residents together.
It was the night before Ganesh Chaturthi. The air was already enchanting crimson with gulaal. Popular film tunes were being rehearsed by the banjo party and the pandal was all set, ready for Shantinagar ka Raja’s arrival, early next morning.
Laxmi’s mother had come home for the delivery which was expected a week later. Close to midnight, when it started raining heavily, Laxmi’s convulsions and moaning woke up her mother and Shankar, who were sleeping down on the floor beside her cot. The only option was to immediately admit her to the municipal maternity hospital situated at the other end of Shantinagar. With no other means of transport available, one of the neighbours immediately made available a plastic-covered handcart, which had just brought in the Ganpati idol at his home. With the neighbour’s help, Shankar finally managed to drive the cart to the hospital.

The following morning, on 25 September 1985, at forty five minutes past six, Rahul Shankar Gite, another descendent of Adam and Eve, arrived in this world to discover and bear the struggle of his share.



Get your copy of The Last Nomad at a special price of 149/- 
Contact: +91 9594545351

Here's what readers think about this book: the journey continues.

- The Last Nomad

25 Aug 2017

अंतर फक्त एक मैल

एअरपोर्टवरचं एक दृश्य...

एक परदेशी पर्यटक जोडपं, प्रीपेड टॅक्सी च्या शोधात.

त्यातील नवरा एअरपोर्ट एम्प्लॉयी ची मदत घेत टॅक्सी काउंटर च्या दिशेने जातो. बायको त्याच्या मागे मागे, बऱ्याच पाठी चाललेय...

आणि आम्हाला आपलं वाटत शेजारचे काकाच काकू ला असे  मैलभर मागे सोडून बाजारात हिंडतात!


- The Last Nomad

14 Jul 2017

The Last Nomad | Now Available in Pune

If you are in Pune, you can get your copy of The Last Nomad at Akshardhara Book Gallery.

Visit any of the galleries below (highly recommended because the gallery is a treasure house!):

Gallery 1:
1302 Sanas Plaza, Bajirao Road, Pune, Maharashtra 411002

Gallery 2:
Dahanukar Colony Branch, Rajhans | Akshardhara Book Gallery, Indranagari, Dahanukar Colony, Near Commins Company, Kothrud, Pune - 411038

Or

Order online: https://goo.gl/tYvcw3

Thanks to team Akshardhara (esp. Prasad Rathiwdekar)!

#Punekars #TheLastNomad






- The Last Nomad

12 Jul 2017

All I See is The Field

Once upon a time, believing for now that time exists, there was a rich farmer named Don. And as desired by providence, there lived an equally rich farmer, James, as his neighbour.

But James was facing a problem: being rich enough he couldn’t find the motivation to work whereas Don was at his field every morning without fail.

Seeing this sight everyday and growing evermore restless, James decided to find out the secret from Don.

That evening, James landed at Don’s door unannounced. “That is not my achievement,” said Don laughing, making James even more confused.

“Every morning as I wake up, I don’t seem to remember that I am rich. All I see is the field waiting for me,” he simply said offering him some tea and James found himself at peace.

The next morning, James woke up with a strange kind of joy. But now he found himself in an even bigger problem: forget Don, the field and his riches, now he couldn't figure out why he was delighted when he woke up.

Apologies for posting after quite some time. Hope you enjoyed reading this tale. In the meanwhile, here's what I was busy doing: micro-blogging on YourQuote app.

Click here to view the stream.



- The Last Nomad

1 Jun 2017

An Encounter with Death

A brave king, constantly thinking of the forthcoming battle, was seeing repeated visions of his death. Haunted thus for days on end, one night he started running across the street, deep into the night. The guards unable to report this to the prime minister, as per the king's orders, found themselves in a fix.
Breathing heavily and quickening his dying pace, the king reached onto the road which led towards one end of the coastal kingdom.

As the deafening sound of the waves below crushed his little left strength, the king went down on his feeble knees close to the cliff edge. Death now took the appearance of the dark sea, swinging its numerous arms back and forth.

'Why are you following me?' asked the king unable to open his eyes, hearing only the sound of his own breath.

'Am I dead?' he cried.

'If you think so,' answered a giggling voice.

The waves kept crashing without a moment's break at the cliff base.

'Where are you?' screamed the king, gathering strength out of nowhere.

'In your mind,' said a dying voice.

- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM

21 May 2017

The Last Nomad | Gift Wrapped For You

From quite some time I was trying to figure out interesting ways of packing the copies of my novella, The Last Nomad, for readers who are ordering copies from me. One idea was particularly fascinating: wraps made out of reused material.

Here are the first four designs in the series of hand-wrapped gift packs.






If you would like to order a copy or gift it to someone special:

  • PM on facebook.com/thelastnomadindia  
  • or Write to me on connectinsight@gmail.com 
  • or WhatsApp on + 91 9594545351

Don't forget to mention:
Your name:
Contact number:
Design: Fly High/Dil Se/Stellar/Maple
Delivery Address:
Recipient's Name(only if this is gift):

For all direct orders, the book is available at a special price of ₹ 250 (delivery charges extra).

If you have missed this, here's what readers say about The Last Nomad.


- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM

6 May 2017

कथा छोट्या दोस्तांसाठी | गंपू आणि आजीची टॉफी




आपला छोटा, निरागस गंपू आता काही लहान राहिला न्हवता. इयत्ता चौथीत गेल्यापासून त्याला मोठं झाल्यासारखं वाटू लागल होत. पूर्वी कंटाळत केस विंचरून घेणारा गंपू आता स्वतःहून आरशासमोर उभा राहून नीट भांग पाडू लागल होता. आतल्या खोलीतून हे दृश्य रोज पाहून आजीला गम्मत वाटत असे.
तितकाच चुणचुणीत पण उगीचच मोठ्या मुलांसारखं वागणारा, क्रिकेट कमी आणि बुद्धीबळ अधिक खेळायला लागलेला, अन्या आणि निन्या या त्याच्या मित्रांबरोबर बोलणं कमी झालेला, गंपू बराच बदलला होता. आता त्याच्या गालालाही कोणी हात लावलेला त्याला चालत नसे. मुळात त्याला गंपू म्हटलेलंहि आता आवडत नसे. त्याचं पाळण्यातलं नाव विनायक होतं. बल्लाळ दादाच्या पाठोपाठ गंपूहि रोज सकाळी व्यायामशाळेत जात असे. पण पेढे, श्रीखंड आणि मोदकाचं वेड असणाऱ्या गंपूच पोट काही केल्या कमी मात्र होत न्हवतं.
शाळेतल्या स्पोर्ट्स डे मधे बुद्धिबळात मेडल जिंकून गंपू एके दिवशी घरी आला. आल्याआल्या आजीला घट्ट मिठी मारून त्याने हि बातमी तिला दिली. आजीने लगेच डब्यातली एक टॉफी काढून गंपूच्या हातावर ठेवली. 'दर वेळी काय गं टॉफी देतेस. आता मी काय लहान नाहीये टॉफी खायला,' गंपू लगेच म्हणाला.
गंपूचा आवाज ऐकून बाबा बाहेर आले. 'काय कुरकुर चाललीये आजीकडे सकाळीच? अरे वा! जिंकलास का स्पर्धेत? छान!' असं म्हणत त्यांनी गंपूची पाठ थोपटली.
'बाबा, तुम्हीच सांगा. मी आता लहान आहे का हो टॉफी खायला? मला आज समोसा खायचाय शाळेसमोरच्या दुकानातून. आजीला काही समजतच नाही. तुम्ही द्या ना ५ रुपये,' गंपू केवीलवाण्या स्वरात म्हणाला.
'समोसा वगैरे काही नाही. गपचूप हाथ धुऊन ये आणि आजीने दिलेली ती टॉफी खा.' कडक शिस्तीचे बाबा गंपूच्या विनवणीला नमले नाहीत.
'पण मला समोसाच हवाय...' असं म्हणत गंपूने चक्क टॉफी जमिनीवर फेकून दिली. आजीने लगेच बटव्यातून ५ रुपये काढून गंपूच्या हातात कोंबले आणि त्याला घराबाहेर पिटाळला.
 'तुझ्या या लाडानेच तो इतका शेफारलाय. आज चक्क त्याने टॉफी फेकून दिली. असच चालू राहिलं तर तो बिघडायला वेळ लागणार नाही.' भिंतीवरच्या घड्याळाने नऊ टोल पूर्ण केले.
'तू कुठे रे बिघडलायस? उसाचा रस प्यायचाय म्हणून शाळेतून येताना तू हि हट्ट धरून बसायचास. आपला गंपू अजून लहान आहे. समज येईल त्याला लवकरच.'
' खरंय. कितीही बक्षिसं मिळवली तरी या टॉफी एवढं मोठं बक्षीस मला कुणीही देऊ शकणार नाही हे समजायला मलाही थोडा वेळ लागला होता,' गंपूचे बाबा जमिनीवर पडलेली टॉफी उचलत शांतपणे म्हणाले.

- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM

28 Apr 2017

Invitation to Review {Novella: The Last Nomad}


Are you are a passionate reader? Then here's your chance to review The Last Nomad.



The book tries to strike a conversation on 'Not all things experienced can be understood. Not all things understood can be expressed.'

Please share a few words about yourself* on connectinsight@gmail.com. No spams, I promise!

Your review may also appear in literary magazines in India.

Here's what readers think about The Last Nomad: https://goo.gl/w3dt7M

Note: Select reviewers will receive complementary Softbacks/Kindle copies. Softback copies will only be sent to readers from India.

*: This must include: Name, Address, About Yourself, Your Favourite Book, Review copy preference (Softback/Kindle)
- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM

19 Apr 2017

Magic Happens [Novella: The Last Nomad]


'A reader's genuine review may lack the glamour but it has the magic to give wings to your work.'

Never did I imagine that I would be writing to you about a revised edition of The Last Nomad, when first publishing it in September, last year.

As promised, The Last Nomad revised edition (Kindle and Softback versions) is now live!

Here are your copies at a special price:
  • Softback [ISBN: 9789352684748]
  • Kindle
    (The free kindle app is also available on iOS, Android, Mac and PC)


Why should you read The Last Nomad?
The readers' comments say it all.

The Last Nomad will be soon available at select stores in Mumbai, Pune and Bengaluru and under ‘Gift a book’ option. Thanks to Amazon KDP and Pothi.com for giving more power to you and me.

Now I believe in the first sentence in this post even more.

Of course, this isn’t my single-handed achievement. Thank you guys: Akshay Prabhu, Pranav Prabhu, Karan Soni, Gaurav Dhairyawan, Mayur Dhondsekar, Anjana Khare, Ankur Chakravarty, Abhishek Ghag, Vivek Gurav, Kapil Gurav, Pratik Vengurlekar, Swati Sanmukh, Nitasha Naik, Swati Nerurkar, Ram Nerurkar, Neeraja Vaidya, Nikhil Shinde, M.S. Uma, Jayant Kerkar, Gayatri Gadgil,Valentino Gasper, and Shamita Vokkaliga.

- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM

25 Mar 2017

Poem: Yesterday and Today

Yesterday

Love was...
In the tormenting curves
In the sweet smell of skin
In the pink rosy cheeks
And dimpled chin

Today

Love is...
When in your presence
The way my heart beats
And I see myself again
In your eyes full of love


- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM

9 Mar 2017

कथा: अगदी पर्वाचीच डिजिटल गोष्ट...

भर दुपारी तळपत्या उन्हात, कासव आणि ससा यांची शर्यत लागलेली. 

दोघे आपापल्या परीने धावू लागले. पण मध्यावर पोहोचल्यावर अचानक दोघे एकमेकांकडे पाहू लागले आणि थांबले. कासवाला आठवलं तो FB वर Live जायला विसरला होता आणि सस्याला आठवलं तो race चे snaps Insta करणंच राहून गेलं होतं. अशा रीतीने ससा आणि कासव दोघे FB live आणि Insta करत करत एकत्र शर्यत जिंकले!

- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM

24 Feb 2017

कविता: साजणी



गंध मातीचा श्वासात तुझ्या

डोळा निरझराचे पाणी

रातराणी तू दरवळलिस

ओंजळी चंद्राची गाणी



Translation: Your breathe has the fragrance of earth/your eyes have the flowing water of a waterfall/you lingered(last night) like the fragrance of 'raatrani'(jasmine)/leaving songs of the moon in my palms.



- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM

19 Feb 2017

Creative Writing Workshop at D.G.Ruparel College, Mumbai

It feels glad to share with you that my first workshop on Creative Writing was conducted yesterday, on 18th February, in D. G. Ruparel College, Mumbai.



The participation of 42 enthusiastic yet patient students made the session more interesting. Thanks to the Management and Department of English for inviting me - more than an alumni I truly enjoyed every moment as a student, reliving my years as a student, all again.

I wish the students all the very best for their future!


Here is the feedback on the session:

"Hi Sir! This is Nitasha Naik from Ruparel College. I attended your talk and it was amazing and inspiring for those who wish to be writers.
"Sorry for disturbing you on a Sunday.
"But I really wanted to let you know that the novel 'The Last Nomad' is amazing. The story line is so realistic that I actually got connected to it. I could visualize the life story of Shankar and Laxmi while reading the book and the problems they faced are what people are facing in today's developing world.
"The story takes you to a journey of all those people who are fighting for living a good life. Thanks for writing such a wonderful novel."
- Nitasha Naik, Student

"Excellent session, in terms of content as well as presentation. Proud to interact with an author who’s a former DGRC student as well."
- Gayatri Gadgil 
Head, Department of English
D. G. Ruparel College, Mumbai








- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM

4 Feb 2017

Poem: A Beautiful Woman

To them
A woman is beautiful
Delicate and fragile
With slender little fingers
And soft pink cheeks

To me
A woman is more beautiful
When she is her man’s strength
Having strong wrists and a heart of steel
Fighting his battle, day and night


- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM

1 Jan 2017

Poem: One Last Resolution


As the year begins, new resolutions are born
Which become deprived children as the year ends
But this year I made one
My one last resolution

It is not to achieve a six pack
Or an eight figure paycheck
Neither it is to cross the continents
Nor to frame another piece of paper

My one last resolution
Is to live each moment aware
Just like the several thousand moments
This moment too shall pass

To believe happiness is in achievement
Is to live a life miserable
For the moments of achievement are stars in the unending void
Happiness is to do your part and let the result unfold


- हेरंब
Author of The Last Nomad
ISupportNAAM