Klishmaklaver

GOD IS A GAMER Author: Ravi Subramanian Publisher: Penguin Books India My Rating: **** About the Author: 'Banker by day, writer by night' as per Forbes, Ravi Subramanian  is India’s numero uno thriller writer, having written six bestselling books. An alumnus of Indian Institute of Management (Bangalore), he is currently head of a leading financial institution. A career banker and financial services professional, Ravi has worked with various multinational banks (Citibank, ANZ Grindlays Bank and HSBC) for over eighteen years. As a result of his extensive background in foreign banks, writing about banking comes quite naturally to Ravi. Each one of his books thus far have been set in the backdrop of a foreign bank. To tell you about myself, I'm an artist at heart and numbers were never my cup of tea. Me and the finance world are like Poles apart. So its needless to say that I wasn't interested in anything or anybody from the banking world. I will...

INDEX:- Chapter 1: Whose idea was it anyway? By Avinash Gupta http://avirandom.wordpress.com/2014/09/12/jeep-and-bourbon-part-1-celebrateblogging/ Chapter 2: Touch-Me-Not  By Vibhuti Bhandarkar http://klishmaklaver.blogspot.in/2014/09/jeep-bourbon-part-2-celebrateblogging.html Chapter 3: The Ignominy of Defeat By Rahul Prabhakar http://2brahulprabhakar.blogspot.in/2014/09/jeep-and-bourbon-part-3.html Chapter 4: The Pleasure of Pain By Pankaj Sharma http://storiesinmoments.com/2014/09/14/pleasure-pain/ Chapter 5: The Road Not Taken By Harsh Singh http://magicalharsh.com/road-taken/ Chapter 6: The Silent Confessions  By Veturi Sarma http://www.veturisarma.com/2014/09/chapter-6-silent-confession-scribe_16.html Chapter 7: The Unwinding of Events By Sarath Babu http://daffodilstouch.wordpress.com/2014/09/16/jeep-and-bourbon-part-7-the-scribe-tribe-celebrateblogging/ Chapter 8: Two Lives By Babitha A. Costa http://babiscooking.blogspot.in/2014...

  10 little Bloggies listed at the Adda,  Dollie never fell in line, So then there were 9. 9 little Bloggies blogging at our Adda, Pankaj quit, a very sensitive team-mate, And then sadly they were only 8 8 little Bloggies writing for Adda, Avinash wouldn't write and didn't quit even, And so battling it out were only seven 7 little Bloggies The Scribe Tribe of Adda, Sarath's with his tweeple and we are in a fix, thus off and on, we remain only six. 6 little Bloggies telling stories at Adda, Romita says her comp's under the knife, So writers, we remain only five. 5 brave Bloggies blogging for Adda, Harry's been robbed when on a tour We shouldered it all, only four. The poem may be a ball of truth gathering some ire and some pity as it rolls but the remaining 4 pillars of The Scribe Tribe are extremely positive people. We gave the 'Game Of Blogs' our all and tried to make a successful journey out of it. ...

Read the previous chapter HERE  Chapter 22: Three is some bad company... Yet another day had gone by, of doing nothing, absolutely nothing. Jennifer was bored to her wits end, the restless soul that she was. Mumbai offered so many exciting opportunities to explore. There were parties they could have attended and premieres they could have been at. She only had to tell her Paparazzi friends in Mumbai that she would be arriving with the Super Model Aryan Ahuja and they would have got her as many passes as she would like. "Oh! What fun it would have been." Jennifer was daydreaming of being in Aryan's glamorous company. Her face soured as she remembered how Cyrus seemed to have completely forgotten all about his promise. The previous evening, after a brief and quite cold introduction, Jennifer had been left by the two guys at the Dutta home. Aryan and Cyrus had just simply turned on their heels and walked out. Jennifer hadn’t been invited over t...

Read the previous Chapter  HERE #prompt: WOW-Chapter of that book! Chapter 20: My hunches are always right! I'm feeling guilty. My conscience has been crushed to bits. I read books late into the night, searching for mental peace between those lines, looking for a verbal salve  to my wounds but to no avail. In the night I've cried rivers at my bedside table and yet the table lamp cannot beat the darkness that's set inside me. In  the pit of my stomach I constantly feel a churning of emotions. Every time I raise my eyes to look at Shekhar, they are welling up with more tears of anguish, in apology and they fall down again in shame but the man continues as if he's not noticed. This pains me even more. If he'd lashed out at me, I'd have felt a little less like a murderer,a little more human in my errors. I've been reading the 'Asura' by Ananda Neelakantan and I haven't gone beyond the fifth chapter. I've been cry...