17 Dec 2018

सप्पई गंडवायलय



मैत्री व्हावी असं काहीच साम्य न्हवतं दोघात. तो कॉलेज मध्ये खूप सिनियर आणि ती नुकतीच पासआउट झालेली. जनरेशन gap का काय म्हणतात त्याला खूप वाव होता इतका फरक!

त्यांनी शेजारी बसावं याचं निमित्त ठरली होती एका तिसऱ्याच विषयावरची कार्यशाळा. त्यात परत दोघांनाही यायचं न्हवतं हे ही ठरलेलं. तो अगदी शांत, अबोल, आपल्यातच असल्यासारखा तर तिची वर वर शांत मुद्रा, पण आतून एकदम जब व्ही मेट मधली बडबडी करीना. आपल्यासारखंच कुणीतरी शांत भेटल्याचा त्याचा आनंद काही चिरकाळ टिकणार न्हवता.

कार्यशाळा चालू होती आणि खूप वेळ दोघांपैकी कुणीही एकमेकांशी काहीच बोललंच न्हवतं. या कंटाळवाण्या शांततेला वैतागलेली ती आणि तिची सारखी चाललेली चुळबुळ त्याला दिसत होती पण बोलावं काय हे ठरवण्यातच त्याचा खूप वेळ जात होता. शेवटी तिनेच त्याचं काम सोप्पं केलं. "तुम्ही एक पुस्तक लिहिलंय ना?" असा एकदम आदरार्थी प्रश्न त्याच्याकडे फेकला आणि त्याला हसूच आलं. हसू आवरत आणि थोडं दबूनच तो होय म्हणाला.

आज या गोष्टीला अनेक वर्ष लोटली. आयुष्यात ते दोघे आपापल्या इच्छित ठिकाणी अधिकउण्या फरकाने पोहोचलेत पण आयुष्याची बॅलन्स शीट मांडणाऱ्यांपैकी ते कधी न्हवतेच. दर रविवारी मिसळ आणि चीझ टोस्ट हाणल्याशिवाय त्यांचा वीकएंड पूर्ण होत नाही. यानंतर, दात पडलेत दोघांचेही तरीही, ताराबाई पार्कला गम्मत म्हणून लॅपा मारणं काही सोडलं नाहीये. त्याचे हात थरथरतात ब्रेक मारताना पण तिला मात्र पूर्ण कॉन्फिडन्स आहे. त्याच्या त्या पुस्तकाने त्याला काय दिलं ह्याचा हिशोब मांडण्याच्या फंदात तो कधी पडला नाही पण आज मात्र त्याची एक खात्री पटली होती. आपले काहीतरी घट्ट ऋणानुबंध असल्याशिवाय आयुष्य काय असं आपल्याला सप्पई गंडवायचं नाही आणि आशा वाण्ड लोकांचा उगीच लोभही नाही लावायचं!

- The Last Nomad

1 Oct 2018

Poem: Frames


Dark and bad, you see me through frames

Frames which make the world appear happy and sad

Frames of morals and frames of shame,

It may take a lifetime to realise the stupid game

Trying to live a correct life you will struggle and die,

Crooked, weird, and beautiful, are works of the same I

So, drop the frame,

Before you are framed

- The Last Nomad

21 Sep 2018

Entry for Tata Literature Live 2018 | MyStory Contest

This poem is my entry for Tata Literature Live! The Mumbai Litfest 2018.

If you like it, vote for me by following this link (http://wshe.es/HSIgBUlx) and pressing the green-coloured 'Vote' button.

adult, adventure, backpack

******

Death of the Ambitious Man

Head down he walks,
Burdened by his wants and thoughts.
Excludes himself from the chai shop talk,
As the toothless wrinkled shopkeeper offers him a Gold Flake.

His spirit seems crushed,
Like the crashed stock market,
As his mind greedily tries to grasp,
The next aim of his life.

Music seems too frivolous,
And poetry effeminate,
It's been ages since his eyes,
Nurtured pearls of joy.

Unable to mingle with old and young,
That evening he walks alone,
To his beloved home,
On the well-lit, clean and lonely street.
- The Last Nomad

*****
Follow this link to vote for the poem: http://wshe.es/HSIgBUlx

- The Last Nomad

9 Aug 2018

Happy Book Lovers Day

On the occasion of Book Lovers Day (Aug 9), get your author-signed paperback copy of The Last Nomad at 20% off!

Follow the link: https://goo.gl/gQd69n

Or

Visit instamojo.com/thelastnomad and apply the Offer Code TLN20
Offer valid till Aug 12

#bookloversday #august9 #thelastnomad


- The Last Nomad

22 Jul 2018

An illustrated excerpt from The Last Nomad

    Note: This novella is not an illustrated work.

"It was their last night at the camp. Ryan woke up with a jolt, only to see Saki sleeping peacefully. It was one of those nightmares that occurred when Ryan was staying in Bombay (now Mumbai) with Deven and Mishraji.  
He came out of the tent, feeling uneasy. At some distance, Macy’s friends were sitting around a bonfire. Oddly enough, the light from the stars shimmering that night wasn’t adequate to see the rest of the camp.  
And suddenly, the bonfire went out after few streaks of lightning came down from the sky, followed by a loud rumbling sound. Before Ryan could realise anything, the land beneath his feet felt pulled away like a carpet and he was tossed into the air. Some tremendous force kept pushing and rolling him forward at a great speed.  
All Ryan could see while being strongly whirled were strange objects illuminated by frequent streaks of lightning. Suddenly, he was sucked into deep silence. He heard a feeble ektara strumming in the background. Ramaa appeared, swirling mid-air, with matted tresses let loose, singing Jonomo Morono in her haunting voice. Then he felt his breath stop."
Get your copy today!

Thank you, Adv. Jagruti Parashare!

Paperback: https://goo.gl/gQd69n
Get 20% off on your author-signed copy*!
*Offer valid till 31 July 2018

Don't be sad if you a Kindle fan. Visit the Kindle Store: http://amzn.to/2oP7OJ1

The Last Nomad has been reviewed by:

Here's what your friends on Goodreads say about the novella: https://goo.gl/OEwYmx


- The Last Nomad

18 Jul 2018

When your work makes them happy

Even a gloomy day looks bright and sunny when your work makes someone smile. :)



Thank you Jagruti and Pooja for choosing to read The Last Nomad.

Find your copy in the Kindle store and Paperback on Instamojo.com/TheLastNomad

Don’t forget to add it to your Goodreads shelf: https://goo.gl/OEwYmx

- The Last Nomad

9 Jul 2018

The Last Nomad reviewed by Samvedna Singh


"Do the chapters of destiny unfolds differently, acting on a sincere advice of the name you carry?
Or everything that comes our way has been religiously inked, revealing only the part that’s for us to comprehend presently, knowing that it will be holding ground in the journey of life? The author has done enough justice in answering it, with his distinctive story line detailing every aspect he has touched."
- Samvedna Singh on The Last Nomad

To read the complete review, follow this link.

Get the novella on your bookshelf:

  • Paperback (Use Offer Code TLN20 for an author-signed copy at 20% off)
  • Kindle 
- The Last Nomad

4 Jul 2018

Get your Author Signed Copy at 20% Off

Hi there!

It feels excited to welcome you to The Last Nomad online store on Instamojo.

Now along with the popular Kindle version, your paperback copy is just few clicks away.

Don't forget to apply the Offer Code TLN20 or scan the QR code below to get your author signed copies at 20% Off. Offer valid till 31 July.


If you've missed out on the latest reviews, here are the quick links:

Stay tuned to the store for the new products to be launched soon!

Want to sell your products on an Instamojo store? Use this link and win a voucher worth ₹ 500!


- The Last Nomad

28 Jun 2018

Quote Posters for you




Thanks to the encouragement from readers, I'm planning to open a virtual quote store to get photo-quality posters from The Last Nomad delivered for your home, college or office*.

To reduce the shipping cost, creative ideas to mail the posters are welcome! 😊🤘

Follow The Last Nomad on Instagram (@thelastnomadofficial)

*Shipping is limited to India as of now.

#quotestore #postershop


- The Last Nomad

19 Jun 2018

The Last Nomad reviewed by Dr. Snob


"The story is impactful and crisp. The author used short story pattern which was captivating," says Dr. Snob.

Rating: 4/5

To read the complete review, follow this link.

Get your copy today!
Paperback (20% Off): https://goo.gl/SmL2sn

Don’t forget to add it to your Goodreads shelf: https://goo.gl/OEwYmx

- The Last Nomad

27 May 2018

Invitation for Book Review

Hi there,

My novella, The Last Nomad, has been around for some time. Thanks to readers and critics, it is slowly finding its place in the vast labyrinth of literary works.



If you would like to review it, please write at connectinsight@gmail.com with the following details:
  • Name (Do you have a story behind your name?)
  • Here's what I do (Professional life and interests)
  • Do you have a blog? Tell me more about it. 
  • Would you like to share your review on Goodreads?
  • Have you reviewed a book before? If yes, which work did you review and how was your experience?
Note: It not necessary to have a blog to review the book. You can share it on your FB page or simply email it.
To know more about the book, browse through any of these reviews:
Discover more about the book in this video:


- The Last Nomad

20 May 2018

The Last Nomad reviewed on bookGeeks


'Reading The Last Nomad reminded me of the quote by Mark Twain that “Truth is Stranger than Fiction”. There are certain revelations in the book that may leave the reader befuddled.
I must also add that the story starts with a very interesting beginning that will keep the readers glued to the pages from the start.'
- Parishmita Saikia on The Last Nomad

To read the complete review, follow this link.

Get your copy today!



- The Last Nomad

18 May 2018

The Last Nomad reviewed at Errors and Kaushal



Happy to share a new perspective on my novella, The Last Nomad. Here's a snippet from the book review at Errors and Kaushal.

"Sometimes you have aspirations to be achieved while sometimes life wants you to give up what you have already achieved, is there a common ground for both or everyone is a nomad in this life constantly seeking what they don't have?"
- Kaushal Mahesh Gupta on The Last Nomad

To read the complete review, follow this link.

Get your copy today:


- The Last Nomad

1 May 2018

Story | Behind the Name




Seven months ago

The street was barren except for a fat dog sleeping under a neem tree. Jatin went ahead and kicked the dog hard, causing it to whine and scoot. He clapped his hands with a hysterical laughter and sat down in shade.

Jatin couldn’t believe what had happened to his life. The series of events that had taken place in the last one year were far from what anyone could’ve wildly imagined: his two-year old daughter, Shipra, wife, Janhavi and younger brother, Shantanu were buried alive as their four-storey apartment vanished into plain dust. Love, dreams and hope left him once and for all.

All that was left for Jatin in the rubble, apart from the crumbled bodies of his loved ones, was his horoscope, old but intact. Out of nowhere, he could hear his mother’s voice speaking in her usual commanding tone, “I’m warning you one more time, don’t marry this girl. She’ll attract misfortune upon all of us. Don’t you know that the astrologer has strictly said not to marry a girl with name starting from J? And why can’t she change her name? What kind of a rebellion is this? I don’t understand why you had to fall in love with this girl.”

Jatin slid the horoscope inside his pocket and walked away from the land upon which death had descended with a full blow.

Five months ago

Stretching his legs on the pavement, Jatin strongly puffed on a bidi. After a leisurely smoke time, he crossed the road and picked up a copy of the local newspaper dropped from the distribution tempo while unloading the stack, early in the morning.

Resting on the public bench after a walk around the deserted public park, he scratched his stunted beard much to the disgust of the old lady next to him. Wary of his smirk, the lady got up, picked up her dog’s poop and walked away. He shifted to the middle and sat crossing one leg over the other as if he owned the bench.

Hurriedly turning the pages, Jatin was watching the passersby with utmost scrutiny, especially the belongings in their hands. His ears were cautiously listening to the policeman’s wooden baton as it went by, this time without recognising him. Trying to pacify his breath, he wiped the sweat beads from his forehead.

“I found you,” he said on finally seeing the advertisement. “Ms. Jenny Punjabi, beautiful and fitness conscious Widow, 48/5'8", looks 40, multimillionaire, having a well-settled business in Mumbai, seeks a handsome and cultured life partner. Kindly send details, with recent photograph to...” he read aloud and laughed but stopped immediately to listen to the policeman’s baton. Realising that it wasn’t around anymore, he carefully noted down the prospect bride’s address in his dog-eared diary. “See you in the evening, Jenny,” Jatin mumbled, trying to find another bidi in the jacket.

Two months ago

“Two down in three months and they don’t yet have a clue. What are the police doing?” said one, carefully dipping a glucose biscuit in the tea.

“Their search is on, as usual. By the way, did you notice both the victims had names starting with J, Jenny and Janaki, and they were prospective brides?” said a fellow tea addict, opening the newspaper.
“Mr. Sherlock, if you are done with your theories, I can see my bus approaching. See you in the club house,” said the first one, running towards the bus stop.

Jatin lingered a bit longer with his empty glass, overhearing other conversations. Since the last few weeks, his only source of information was these informal chats around the city. The police informers were sniffing for even the tiniest bit of oddity on the streets. Although Jatin was dressed like a gentleman today, he wondered how long he could live in disguise.

“Do you know what the police found forced into the victims’ mouth? It’s a torn paper from an old horoscope,” remarked another citizen-turned-detective. Feeling uneasy, Jatin walked away as he no longer wanted to hear the conversation. Few more pages to go, he thought, feeling the horoscope inside his jacket.

Present day

He is looking for a girl, who does not know he exists, or the story that has brought him here. He has no reasons to be discreet but still he has to be careful. He is standing near the doorway and surveying the golden banquet hall, which is filled with refined bodies in saris and jackets, and beautiful young women with straight hair who never make facial expressions. But they will, soon. Any moment now.

“What goes around comes around. I can’t let another Jatin suffer. It isn’t too late. Jasmit, you must...” mumbling thus he collapsed near the doorway, writhing in pain and holding his head. No one had the time to notice him as everyone rushed out to welcome the groom’s procession. The happy drummer toy, on the pavement, continued to vigorously play the drum while the springhead bride continued to wobble.


- The Last Nomad

28 Apr 2018

Thank you for your votes!

Thank you for these 50 votes!



Really appreciate you taking out time to read and vote. 🙏

Poem: https://goo.gl/grH2xn

#majhimetro2018


- The Last Nomad

Poem: Perpetual Search

The drunkard clings to liquor,
Devotee dissolves in her lord's praise,
Lover tries to own his beloved,
And wealthy sits atop his riches.

The strong clings to might,
Coward drowns in his fear,
Courageous rides on the truth,
And intelligent holds high his wit.

Everyone's going in cycles,
In search of what they claim to love.
When the search comes to an end,
We will be in the invisible place where it all began.



- The Last Nomad

21 Apr 2018

Do you like to read?




Hey there! Be a part of this study designed to understand reading habits in the changing times. (Won't take more than five minutes of your time, I promise.)

Don't forget to share it with your friends. Cheers!

Click this link to participate: https://goo.gl/forms/NjiVUTwRmn0qESGZ2


- The Last Nomad

17 Apr 2018

The Last Nomad | A Conversation

Here comes The Last Nomad to strike a conversation with you, once again.



The Last Nomad is Heramb Sukhathankar's debut novella. It is receiving critical acclaim and being very well appreciated by readers.

What's the book all about? See this video.



To order your paperback copy,  Whatsapp/call on: +91 9594545351
Read the Kindle version this link: Kindle version

Here's what the readers have to say about the book on Goodreads.

- The Last Nomad

15 Apr 2018

Majhi Metro Festival is back

Majhi Metro Festival is back this year with the theme 'Art in Motion'.



Happy to share with you that my poem has been approved! 😊

If you like the poem, do vote by tapping on the heart icon on this link: https://goo.gl/mjHKT1

You can also stand a chance to win, if you can write, paint or click art in motion.


-The Last Nomad

23 Mar 2018

Story: Elephant and a tiny blade of grass


A cute little elephant lived alone in a vast and dense forest. Separated from his family due to some reason, he enjoyed being solitary. Having the entire expanse to himself, he thoroughly explored every bit of the land.

His day started with eating the fresh, juicy bananas and stalks of sugarcane after which he played in the pond till noon.

Days passed by and the cute elephant was no longer cute. He started enjoying uprooting small trees and grass to make a flat land for his fanciful play of kicking fallen coconuts. A tiny blade of grass, swaying in the wind, was watching in silence.

On the morning after the next, the wind was blowing hard. The elephant, excited by this sudden change in the weather was on his way to make splashes in the pond. A huge tree, which the elephant had failed to uproot on the previous evening, came straight down onto him and he succumbed. The blade of grass was watching in silence.

- The Last Nomad

10 Feb 2018

Poem: Down The Spiral of Time

As your great night approaches,
I pray, O Shiva,
Let me be her companion,
Through any darkest night of our life.

Hailed as the King of night,
The sun and moon are illumined by your eyes.
Give us vision, O illumined one,
To see your magnificent formless form.

Some day, as our time approches,
And we crawl into infinity,
Let me be her Shakti,
And she, Shiva.

- The Last Nomad

6 Feb 2018

Poem: Walk The Path

When you realise your ignorance
Walk the path

As you stumble while learning
Walk the path

You'll be ridiculed and praised
Walk the path

Don't believe your ego
Walk the path

All it takes is clarity
Walk the path



- The Last Nomad

26 Jan 2018

The Last Nomad reviewed in Lokprabha

So, I have broken my promise to stay away from FB to thank #Lokprabha magazine (Indian Express Group) for reviewing The Last Nomad.

It's a big surprise for me as well. You can read it in 26th January issue.
Here's a snap for curious readers. 



Cheers!
#bookreviews

- The Last Nomad