Saturated eBook Markets and Desaturated Writers

I happened to read a post that made me feel terrible, both as a reader and as a writer.

The gist of the post made by a writer is that her books aren’t selling because there is a glut of writers in the eBook space as every one who can write, is writing and publishing.

According to this writer,

the only writers selling their books are those who can afford the time and money to promote and advertise their books


those who turn lucky and succeed for an unknown reason (and definitely not for any talent they might have.)

Continue reading “Saturated eBook Markets and Desaturated Writers”


Physical Labor is Like Water…

it flows down – down to the weakest and the most disadvantaged section of the society.  The edifices of the past that make us gasp with awe, extracted the labor from the susceptible either through force, or through collective psychological manipulation.

Think of a mammoth building project, that a king wishes to complete in his life time. It could be the city of Akhetaten at Amarna or the Tajmahal in India, and imagine how it might have come into existence. We say now, that Akhenaten built the city at Amarna, and that Shahjahan built the Tajmahal – but the statement is erroneous. The men we attribute the building of these huge monuments were merely the financiers – in cash and in kind (and in Ancient Egypt, it was mostly in kind – beer, bread, linen, grains and so on.)

These monuments were built by the poor – the peasant class. In Ancient Egypt, the men were rounded up for their essential service to Pharaoh’s building projects – this happened before the floods, for at that time, there was nothing else the poor could do. In medieval India, there were huge colonies of craftsmen who lived in low huts and worked around the year on the Emperor’s projects. Continue reading “Physical Labor is Like Water…”

Finding Time…The Eternal Quest.

Time is such a charmer, you see. A casanova of sorts. First, it binds your heart with invisible silk and encloses it in a soft embrace, lulling it into believing that it would be there for you forever – and then, one day, you wake up with your heart cold and shivering, and realize that the sweet, calming comfort is gone. And then you see time fleeing away. The pile of tasks to be completed,  you learn, had been growing undetected, and transformed into a time-guzzling monster.

I can’t seem to find time these days. I need it to write blogposts, to edit “The Price of Nofret’s Nose”, to Continue reading “Finding Time…The Eternal Quest.”

Eating Books.

This week, I tasted a couple of books and swallowed one. About those that must be chewed and digested... I’m still working on a few that I read years ago.

I love reading books from different genres – mostly fiction and some non-fiction (mainly historical and psychological.)

In my little library there indeed are books that must chewed and digested (and those that I am still chewing and digesting.) Some of these are: Ken Follett’s Century Trilogy, Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged, and George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice & Fire series. 

And then there are books that I’ve swallowed. I ordered them because they were on the bestseller lists of psychological fiction. I didn’t stop to experience their texture (or the lack of it;) I didn’t swirl them around my tongue long enough to let my senses be taken by them; and now, I don’t remember anything about them at all. Continue reading “Eating Books.”

Cracked Mirrors and The Grim Reaper – A Short Story

The soft breeze of the night transformed itself into a gale and rushed ahead to open the windows of the house for her. Mirrors cracked, curtains bellowed, hitting a vase somewhere in the house and crashing it to the floor.

It’s odd that my calm and serene presence should be announced with such violence, she thought.

Inside the house, in his bedroom, he slept on his side of the bed, undisturbed by the violent storm that raged outside. The other side of the bed was empty. A wave of guilt washed over her. She had been here before and she was the reason why he slept alone.

He lay supine, alone and in peace. She stood next to his bed, Continue reading “Cracked Mirrors and The Grim Reaper – A Short Story”

Why Akhenaten became a Heretic?

I love the once-upon-a-time beginnings. They make dystopias appear utopian, so…

Once upon a time, there was a young prince, who co-ruled Egypt with his father. The young prince then became Pharaoh. However, this Pharaoh was unlike any other previous pharaoh. While his predecessors had accepted the supremacy of the priesthood of Amun, he decided to defy them.

His defiance was unique. He did something that had probably never crossed the mind of anyone until then.

Continue reading “Why Akhenaten became a Heretic?”

Tutankhamun, Ay, and the Spinner of Dreams.

The heretic king Akhenaten and his beautiful wife Nefertiti had many daughters but no son, and while a daughter was the vessel that carried the royal blood, she couldn’t be the ruler of Egypt. Though, in past, some walls were etched with the stories of Queen Hatshepsut, the woman-king who wore a false beard and ruled, everyone knew that by strapping that false beard to her chin, she had committed a crime against the gods, and Akhenaten was sure that his new and only god Aten wouldn’t be happy if one of his daughters had to wear the double crown upon her brow.

So when one of the lesser wives of Akhenaten finally gave birth to a son, everyone rejoiced, but their joy was pathetically short-lived, as they soon realized that the young prince was born with deformities that wouldn’t let him live a full life, let alone a long one. Continue reading “Tutankhamun, Ay, and the Spinner of Dreams.”

Yonder Worlds?

Yonder worlds are worlds that are far away – apparently beyond our reach. Buried beneath the sands of time, hidden behind the veil of mystery, these worlds reveal themselves to us through our imagination.

Yonder Worlds are worlds that call me. They torture my imagination and demand that I etch them on paper. These are worlds that are ancient, future, or imaginary.

Through this blog, I hope to share my glimpses of these worlds. I cannot say which worlds would beckon me in future, but for now Ancient Egypt has me in its thralls.

Who am I? 

I am just a storyteller on a journey of imagination.

Image Credits:
Nefertiti’s Bust in Berlin Museum.
By Rüdiger Stehn from Kiel, Deutschland [CC BY-SA 2.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons)

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