A love story between an Indian photographer and a French artist, Letters from an Indian Summer is suffused with a strong sense of serendipity and spiritually liberal doses of the things Arjun Bedi and Genevieve Casta hold dear in this world. The past, though, lurks constantly around every chosen corner. Will the secrets they harbour end up destroying them, or will the unspoken belief in their entwined cosmic paths be much too strong a force ? After holding the book physically the first thing I felt was gorgeous. It is one of the best cover I have seen for a story like this till date. The font in which the name is written, the color of the back ground, the dry rose and leaves scattered all over the cover, makes this look blissful. One thing that is pretty evident from the novel is the rich, exquisite and elegant language of the author. There is an intricate level of detail in each and every situation that makes this story stand out. One might argue there’s too much of it, but I can say that this detail is what makes the reader hallucinate vividly the exact scenes and situations of the story. The author really has an excellent grasp of literary prose and the story is beautifully constructed. Another thing that stands out and is related to the first one is the details about the cities and countries the author visits. You really needn’t have gone to that city for you to imagine how it would be like when you’re reading this novel. The characters are constantly travelling from Poona, to Benares to Delhi to Istanbul to Dubai. The combination of excellent descriptive writing and the places makes it a delight. Also important is the author’s perspective on seemingly mundane, boring and sometimes even irritating aspects of our lives. The author is probably a “glass half full” kind of a person as his writing makes even the congested roads of Delhi look beautiful. I can’t forget to mention the author’s love with food. Also the characterization is phenomenal. The author has done justice to each character. The protagonists themselves are very relatable. He has made the flawed, slightly distinct, unique people very lovable.
I write a lot, which keeps me off the streets and out of trouble. There is always something to write about, always a new story to craft. Not writing, for me, is like trying to hold back a sneeze. Learning to write was the most powerful influence in my life. I can still remember the awe I felt when I realized I could put real words onto paper and tell out a story. From that first ‘a-ha’ moment I knew I wanted to write.
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