I am a Chetan Bhagat fan, and I am not an idiot: A 2001-word editorial odyssey

Recently, I was involved in a discussion in a writer’s group about Chetan Bhagat. Unlike most similar discussions, this one did not degenerate into the vitriol that usually happens when Chetan Bhagat is mentioned. In part, because the discussion was not limited to Bhagat himself, but included Amish Tripathi, Durjoy Datta, Ravi Subramanian, and other bestsellers. … Continue reading I am a Chetan Bhagat fan, and I am not an idiot: A 2001-word editorial odyssey

The lub dubs

The doctor enters. I know what he’s going to say. He’s said it before. My hearts can’t take much more. My blood work matches perfectly to a girl my own age. I feign sleep. Maybe he won’t bother me. He doesn’t. He and my mother talk in hushed tones. Their words grow fainter as the blood throbs faster through my body. The sound has reached my ears now. Their voices become just mumbles. My eardrums thud with the pain of the increased blood flow. I have made my decision, yet still feel at war with myself somehow. Lub, dub. Lub, dub.