Thoughts

Why I write what I write

Alright. I know a lot of what I have written carry the themes of forced marriages and honour killings. All those dark and terrible situations you would never had wished for yourself to be in. You may never know… more terrible stuff might just add on to the list. Let me just share with you why I write what I write.

After O levels, I read a book recommended by Rashvin (I share over 10 years of friendship with this woman. She’s more than a bestie.) The book was titled Shame authored by Jasvinder Sanghera, who now runs Karma Nirvana, a non-profit organisation supporting victims of forced marriages and honour based violence. In short, the writer ran away from a strict Sikh household that tied her into a forced marriage. She escaped and led her life by herself. It’s coupled with all the ups and downs of running away from home, being lonely, home-sick and even living on the edge.

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Stories

The Unforgiven

4th January 2012 Wednesday, 12.30 am

The voices from the veranda get louder and Nami hugs her legs close to her chest, shivering in fear.

“You’re a disgrace!” Pa bellows with rage. Nami jerks when she hears a loud crash. There is a sudden silence. Nami quickly scrambles off her bed and peeps through a small opening through the curtains.

“No, Pa no,” Nami whispers as tears start to stream down her face.

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Stories

Revenge in Honour

These two chapters were written for my final creative assignment for a Creative Writing module. The novel is named “Revenge in Honour”.

ONE

With the sun bathing the window from the outside, Rick’s face outlined with the rays as he gazed out at the empty road, like a small boy yearning to leave his room and hit the streets with his skateboard. Clad in his favourite maroon sweatshirt and cargo pants, he looked more matured, like a father of two, but as he turned and smiled to my direction, blood rushed to my cheeks as he revealed his boyish dimpled grin.

“You’re awake?” Rick grabbed the chair and moved it closer to the bed. “Any weird dreams this time?”

I rolled my eyes and switched my gaze over to the dresser. Squinting at the unusual red package, I asked in my broken voice. “What’s that?”

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