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Pre-Order signed copies of ‘It’s First Love’
Posted on August 21st, 2011To view the first chapter and read about the book, click on the following link:
What you can do -
1 – Pre order your signed copy of the book on Flipkart by calling Toll Free on 18001023547 or from the following link:
http://www.flipkart.com/books/8192222667
You can pay debit/credit card or opt for Cash On Delivery Option!
2 – Ask your best friend, her best friend, your neighbour, your gardener and that irritating Back-bencher in the class order the book as well!
3 – Save the first chapter of the book and send it across to all your friends!
4 – Write me an email at me.sachingarg@gmail.com telling me how you liked the first chapter!
Thanks a ton
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Follow your dreams
Posted on August 12th, 2011As I write this, I haven’t slept for thirty hours and my bank balance is lesser than it was when I passed out of college a year ago.
For the last fifteen months, I had been working in a small village, far far away from any civilization, in the middle of Bellary District, Northern Karnataka. It was a place so different that it went on to inspire me into writing a book on it called ‘I’m Not Twenty Four..’
But then the itch would just not die. I had to be back among books as soon as I could. In life, there are paths that you choose to take. Like you choose your education. And then there are paths which just happen. The way books happened in my case. And hence, I decided to start my own venture in book publishing.
A random conversation with a friend, four years ago led us both into taking a plunge into writing our first books. And today, I leave behind 7 years of formal education to tread a path many have tried with little success, publishing stories.
All I want to say to you is, today is the first day of the rest of your life. And it’s also a very good day to review what you are doing. Imagine yourself at the age of sixty and look at yourself backwards. Would you regret having made the decision you would make today? Or are you just setting yourself up for a bunch of regrets?
I know we all need to make money. We need to feed ourselves and the pets we might have. But all I am saying is, I haven’t heard of a man who has struggled diligently, believed in himself, persevered and not succeeded. All you have to do is to tell yourself that you will stick through the turmoil for long enough, possibly for three to five years in some cases.
So if you can do that, go follow your dream.
Durjoy and I will be launching our venture Grapevine India Publishers in September, 2011. Through Grapevine, we will be creating a community of authors, who bring out stories which truly stimulate the imagination of the Indian masses. We will be launching the following four novels in September, 2011:
The Extra Class – The Backbenchers series (by Sidharth Oberoi) -
Accidentally in Love… With him? Again?!? (by Nikita Singh) -
You Were My Crush.. Till you said you love me! (by Durjoy Datta) -
It’s First Love.. Just like the last one! (by Sachin Garg)
It is hard enough working on one book at a time. Working on these four books simultaneously for the last six months is a feeling I doubt would come back in my life. Since I have shifted to Delhi, I have been running around at 45 degree Celsius, getting tanned, meeting people.
I’d like to share the following points about it:
- There is no better kick than being intellectually challenged and be emotionally thrilled at the same time. And there is no better way to experience it than pursuing your dream.
- If you think you are lazy, incapable, not smart enough or don’t have an idea, then you, especially, should take the plunge. You need it more than the others. If you will make an unusual decision, you will hold the responsibility of making yourself not look like an idiot. You will stay up for thirty hours straight and stretch in a way you had never imagined. Trust me, I am saying this one from personal experience.
- I meet around three to eight new people every day. And the spectrum of people I meet is broader than it could ever have been in the traditional career. I don’t have to laugh at their unfunny jokes and don’t pretend to enjoy what I don’t. It makes me hate myself lesser and helps me sleep better. And to be honest, their stories are much more fun.
- All day long, I am in deep concentration. I might be writing, in a meeting, reading, talking on the phone, playing football or even pumping metal in the gym. I am focused on what I am doing. What is the value of that?
Mostly people stay on their toes for the first few weeks of their work life. And then you are expected to do it over and over again. It’s not doing justice to your capability - I talk to many new writers almost on daily basis. I discuss their writing routines, how they became writers and what their aspirations are. It excites me. And it’s an excitement you can’t really replace with any other feeling in the world.
- The luxury of not having to pretend that you are busy, like you have to, in every office in this world, makes you five times more efficient in life.
- There is no Admin department to take care of the housekeeping. There are no travel desk guys, IT support guys, Income Tax return guys. I do it all myself. Accounts is not that arcane thing which happens in the other end of the company. And there is no guarantee that things will turn around.
But it’s a life worth living. I don’t mean to mislead you.
Evaluate your options. Whether you do or do not follow your dream, I would be happy to hear your story.
Tell it to me at facebook.com/sachingarg.me
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As I see it
Posted on July 24th, 2011I can see lot of life in you.
I can see what I want to.
I can see, what you can’t.
To be with you, is all I want.
Winter, monsoon, summer.
We’ll wither every weather.
Come here, sit with me,
You make everything look better.
When the water pours.
Let’s then get wet.
Let’s get old together.
Let the sun set.
Let life be simple.
Let me love you.
It ain’t a home,
If it ain’t with you.
- A few lines from my next book. More updates coming next week.
P. S. – To comment and interact with the author -Like the Facebook Page – Sachin Garg’s blog and books
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Facebook (short story)
Posted on July 15th, 2011This was 18 year old Manish’s display picture on Facebook. If you think you are addicted to Facebook, Manish was much worse. 18 hours a day, seven days a week. He was glued. He hadn’t even seen his friends and family in months.
Manish hadn’t always been like this. He was the football team captain and she was the head of the Cheerleading team. The football team captain dating the head cheerleader, it was almost a rule. Her name was Monika. But hell broke loose when she left him for some writer who wrote short stories on some blog or something.
Manish was devastated. His grades hit the rock bottom and things began to plummet ever since. All he did was sit on Facebook, stare at pictures of girls in the list of his friend’s friend’s friends. He would type the same message every time:
“I am kewl dood from Delhi who wanna to be on the top all the tym.
I want to make fraandship with you.”But nobody ever accepted his friend request. For the last three months, he had had 37 friends on facebook. All he wanted was that elusive 38th friend. But he had no idea where he/she was coming from!
He never realized it would be easier to actually go out to the park and make a friend and then add him to his Facebook list. Such was his depression.
On 27th June, 2009, just as he was spending his 14th straight hour on Farmville, something miraculous happened. He received a Friend Request. And that too from a girl. Kanika.
Her display picture was that of Katrina Kaif. It gave him pleasant thoughts.
His heart skipped a beat. He was ecstatic. He didn’t know how to react.
He accepted the request quickly and pinged her on Facebook chat.
“Hiiii” he wrote.
“Hey. I really wanted to talk to you” she replied.
“About what?”
“Actually Kanika is not my real name but I knew you wouldn’t accept my request if I had sent it by my real name” she said.
“Then who are you?”
“In fact, I have made a Facebook account so that I could talk to you. I used to meet you everyday earlier. But now we haven’t met for weeks. If only you were not this addicted to Facebook…” she said.
Manish was ecstatic. “But who are you?”
“Well, this is your mother beta. I havent seen you for months. Please come downstairs and have dinner” she replied.
P. S. – To comment and interact with the author -Like the Facebook Page – Sachin Garg’s blog and books
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The Confession (short story)
Posted on July 8th, 2011Note – True story has been modified to cater to a wider audience.
Don’t tell this to anyone, but in my free time, I like to work as a priest in a church in Rajouri Garden, New Delhi. I really don’t mean to flaunt but that is where the story is based.
I spend time inside the confession box and anonymous people come and confess things to me. I can’t see their faces and they cannot see mine. And yet, I share some really personal conversations with some of the confessors.
On one such day, I heard two people come and stand in front of the confession box.
“We are two brothers. You can call me the 1st brother and my brother as the 2nd brother” said the first one.
“Okay. So what is bothering you?” I asked.
“You are a loser” said the 2nd Brother. There was no context or provocation.
“That’s the only line my brother knows. We just ignore him when he says that” 1st Brother defended him.
“But why?” I asked.
“You are a loser” said the 2nd Brother, once again.
“Well, he is a defective piece. God must have been Facebooking when he made him. I am sure he Liked the Page ‘I mess up at work to get back at my Boss’ after making him” said the 1st Brother.
“Okay. So what brings you here?” I asked.
“You are a loser.”
“Well, both of us have been working together for 8 years. We did well in the beginning, but now our work sucks” 1st Brother said.
“Hmm. So?” I asked.
“You are a loser.”
“Well, actually, both of us are
gaydifferent. And our wives don’t understand us.”“What do they say?” I asked.
“You are a loser.”
“Well, they say we are not good in
bedthe kitchen.”Now, I have always been good in ‘the kitchen’. So I gave them a long lecture about what all they can do. They seemed happy.
The two of them began to leave. I was beginning to get really curious as to who these two brothers were. I decided I would secretly peek, just as they would be about to exit the church. I stepped out and caught a glimpse of both of them. I couldn’t see much.
All I could see was that they were both identical. And they were both bald.
P. S. – To comment and interact with the author -Like the Facebook Page – Sachin Garg’s blog and books
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Luv’s Life (short story)
Posted on July 2nd, 2011Twenty seven year old Luv Sharma had always been a high achiever. Great at studies, great at sports, success, he had everything. Everyone knew he was going to make it big. So when he cleared the civil service exam and joined the Indian Police Service, no one was surprised. Not only that, he went on to become one of the most high profile IPS officers of the state. I don’t want to go into details but still, everyone knew he would be nominated for Param Veer Chakra, the coming year.
And still, somehow, the chapter of love was yet to be opened in his life. It was only ironic, that his first posting as an IPS officer was in Agra, the city of the memoir of love, the Taj. Having studied in government schools and invested his youth into books, he had virtually forgotten to fall in love. But now that his friends were beginning to get married, it definitely pinched him a little.
On the face of it, he was the happiest person around. But every night, he sulked because of the incompleteness of his life in the absence of love.
One day, he was wired that there was an upheaval at the Agra Mental Hospital. He reached there in a jiffy. It took Luv a good half an hour to take the miscreants into control. It was a tiring job. Once everything was under control, he sat down at the reception to take a breath. He poured a glass of water and relaxed.
Just then, the phone at the reception started ringing. Luv checked that there was no one around. So he decided to pick the call.
“Hello?” he picked the call.
“Hello? Is this Mansi?” a female voice came from the other side. She was crying.
“I think you have a wrong number” Luv replied.
There was an awkward silence. Luv was really curious as to why she was crying. The girl, on the other hand, seemed lost as to what to say.
“Don’t get me wrong, but why are crying” Luv asked.
The girl was quiet for a second, as if Luv’s question had made her reflect on everything that was making her cry. And then her sobbing suddenly got louder.
“I am crying because my parents don’t let me do anything” she said. And then she went onto narrate her story that how in spite of being great at studies, her parents had not let her do much in life. And now they wanted to her to get married forcefully.
Luv was touched. The quiver in her voice touched something deep within.
“And what do you do?” she asked Luv.
“Me? Well, I am an IPS officer.”
“IPS Officer! Wow. A good one?” she asked.
“Yes, yes. A very good one. I don’t want get into the details but I would probably get Param Veer Chakra next year. People say nobody can handle a gun better than I do. Also, I killed Veerappan.”
“You must be mad to have not found a girl till now. I mean, in just fifteen minutes, I seem to really like you already. Let’s meet up. Where are you right now?” she asked.
“I am at the Agra Mental Hospital.”
He heard a clicking sound on the other side of the phone.
P. S. – To read a one line epilogue of the story and interact with the author– Like the Facebook Page – Sachin Garg’s blog and books
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Abhi’s truth (short story)
Posted on June 26th, 2011Now, it is a complex story so please pay attention. Abhi is a very old friend of mine. Even though his age is 35, eleven years elder to me, we have always had a great time whenever we have hung out or went for a trip.
I met his wife on our trip to Switzerland. And my only reaction was Oh-My-God. Trust me when I say she was drop dead gorgeous. The perfect eyes, skin, hair and what not. She seemed to have descended from the heavens. She was out of this world, like a Miss World or something.
I wouldn’t say there were instant sparks between Abhi’s wife and me.
But before the trip ended, both of us knew something was going to happen. It was on our next trip to Greece where things actually ’happened’ between her and me. I wish I could tell you how good she was.
Now Abhi’s life is no less complex in itself. He is thirty five years old and has joined his Dad’s business. In spite of a decade long struggle, he hasn’t been able to outshine his Dad to make a mark for himself. Every now and then, he gets drunk and calls me and asks what he is doing wrong?
I tell him the truth. I tell him he is an idiot and that’s what he is doing wrong.
To make the matters worse, Abhi’s dad thinks very highly of me.
Whenever Abhi does something wrong, he has to listen to comments like ’Sachin would never do it wrong.’
But that’s not what the story is about. The story is about Abhi trying really hard to make a kid with his wife. He kept trying but never succeeded. What he didn’t know was that his wife was deliberately making sure that he doesn’t father her child. So they kept trying for a year, with no result.
Something had to be done. The family had to be taken forward. Abhi’s dad was a rather dignified man. He wanted to see a grandson, desperately.
I wasn’t there in the family meeting and I don’t know who suggested it but the idea that I father their child was bound to come up.
It could have been anybody’s idea.
Abhi’s dad liked me and the gene pool I would have given to the child.
Abhi’s wife was in love with me.
Abhi thought very highly of me too.
And that’s how the Bachchan family got their next kid.
P. S. – To comment or interact with the author – Like the Facebook Page – Sachin Garg’s blog and books
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Ashish’s first love (short story)
Posted on June 23rd, 2011Ashish was a 21 year old idealist. He believed that the government should do its job and corruption should end right now.
So when his friends at Hans Raj College were busy chasing girls, he was more interested in supporting Baba Ramdev in his hunger strike.
‘Come on yaar. Let’s enjoy life now. Yeh koi umar hai desh bhakti ki. Meet some girl man’ one of his friend said to him.
‘If I am destined to meet a girl, I can meet her anywhere. It can even be on Baba’s hunger strike’ Ashish replied.
‘C’mon Ashish look at these girls. Check out their legs under the short skirts.’
‘I believe a glimpse of the ankle of a cultured girl in a sari is a much bigger turn on than fully naked legs under a short skirt’ Ashish concluded the conversation.
The story really begins on the night of fifth of June. Baba’s strike had caused quite a stir and the Congress had begun to take notice. At around 1 in the night, Ashish was serving water to Baba’s thirsty supporters. The place was calm and serene in the dead of the night.
And then suddenly, the environment changed. Policewallahs entered from one end and started lathi charge to disperse Baba’s supporters. Ashish even saw tear gas being used somewhere. He didn’t know what to do. So he decided to run for his life.
Just then he saw her. A young girl, clad in a sari was running all around. Her face was covered but Ashish could see she had long lustrous hair. The moment he saw her hair, his heart skipped a beat or two.
Ashish could see that she was directionless. She did not know where to go and evidentally, could use some help.
‘Here, hold my hand’ Ashish said and took her towards a small secret door which not many people knew of.
As the two of them ran from the lathi-charging police, Ashish caught a glimpse of the girl’s ankle under her sari.
‘Oh my God’ he said to himself. He realized he was attracted to her without even seeing her face. All he had seen was her hair and her ankle. He had never known he would be attracted so easily.
Or maybe it was the situation. Police, nationalism, tension, girl in distress, her knight in shining armor etc. But as he held the girl’s hand and guided her to the small door through the tension, he was surely on a high.
He was beginning to fall in love.
It took them a good fifteen minutes to be cleared of the chaos. They had run quite some distance and were sweating profusely.
Her face was covered but Ashish could see her eyes. They were filled with gratitude. It was time Ashish got to actually see her and if it was not too much, may be hear her voice too. By now, he was definitely in love.
He promised himself at this moment, that even if she would not be very beautiful, he would still be in love with her.
Love, he thought, is not skin deep.
He raised his hand and removed the cloth from her face. And out came a ten inch long black beard.
It was Baba Ramdev himself, dressed in a sari to avoid the police. Ashish’s first love story had an abrupt end.
P. S. – To comment or interact with the author – Like the Facebook Page - Sachin Garg’s blog and books
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The Notice Period
Posted on June 19th, 2011So having resigned to become entrepreneurs, Roy and I started the torture called Notice Period in our offices. And some torture it was.
Every now and then, I couldn’t help getting caught sleeping in office.
“Sachin? Sleeping??” Boss asked on one such occasion. I had to manage the situation somehow.
“Oh. I should stop donating blood every week” I replied, rising slowly.
Roy was caught in a similar situation too, sleeping with his head on the table.
“Wake up Roy” his boss came and said to him one day.
Roy picked his head from his table and replied “have you noticed the sound coming from this table when you put your ear on it?”
“No, I haven’t. Get a side, let me see” Roy’s boss replied and put his ear on the table.
* * *
Like a nice and sincere employee, I decided to be a good boy and use my notice period to impress that cute girl in office.
On a suitable occasion, I launched the brag-athlon on her “You know I have always been ambitious. So I am doing my own business. Yeah, it is scary to think about but when you have done all the planning, then what to worry about?”
“Oh really. What is the business about?” she blinked and asked.
Now I had no idea what business I will be doing. So that meant there were three possible replies to the question.
Option 1: “I have no f#*king idea.”
Option 2: “Oh wait. Boss is calling. I will be right back.”
Option 3, which was my actual response: “We will be strategically aligning our resources to cater to the gap in a highly specialized Industry.”
“Wow. How do you know so much?” the cute girl replied. And blinked some more.
#MBAhelps
* * *
At the same time, at twenty four years of age, I decided to put my notice period to good use. I decided to strike off certain points from my Things-to-do-before-21 list.
I know I set very low standards in terms of decency, but even my standards don’t allow me to mention most of those points here. But here’s a much censored list.
I am working on the six pack. It is very much there, just covered under an inch of flab.
I want a house in Delhi, so presently I am collecting money to be able to pay for the Auto to go and see some flats in Punjabi Bagh.
I also want to buy a Toyota Endeavour but that is quite secondary. So I decided to start with a wall poster of the same. But due to budget constraints, I had to settle for a laptop wallpaper.
* * *
Meanwhile, some of you have expressed a desire to know me better.
I, well I am a perfect blend of Tall, Dark and Handsome. I mean I am tall and I am handsome when it is dark.
But more importantly, I am a stud. (The cute girl in office reads my blog).
Roy, on the other hand, personifies the Great Indian Behenji-Turned-Modern kind of story.
But definitely, he is a stud. (That will be 250 rupees Roy).
P. S. – To comment or interact with the author – Like the Facebook Page – Sachin Garg’s blog and books
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The first step
Posted on June 16th, 2011Amongst the many recurring discussions my friend Roy and I keep having, one of the most frequent one is the decision to take the plunge, resign from our jobs and start our own business.
In 2009, Roy had a fierce argument with his boss and suggested we resign. But at that time my office had just got a brand new shiny coffee machine. Studies show that a new business takes at least eight months to be able to afford a coffee machine. # RandomStatistics.
And then in 2010, immediately after my measly increment, I called up Roy and suggested resignation. But at that time, Roy’s office had just signed up a strategic collaboration with Luxor for unlimited free supplies of office stationery. So Roy needed a year to have hoarded enough stationery in his house to last life time. #FairArgument
And then in 2011, Roy finally called me up and said “Dude, did you read the May Edition of Harvard Business Review? It says entrepreneurs get 23. 473% more girls than employed people.”
So naturally, I have resigned now.
* * *
So I knocked on my boss’s door to go and resign.
“Sir, I wanted to talk. I am resigning. I want to be an entrepreneur” I said.
“Why? Is the coffee machine not working?”
“The coffee machine is okay sir.”
“Then did the stationery supplies didn’t come in okay?”
“I am not hungry for free stationery sir.” #WhiteLie.
“We will order a brand new chair for you, with 30% reclining compared to your present chair with only 27% recline.”
“Make it 36% reclinable and we have a deal” I said.
I knew he wouldn’t agree. His own chair reclines 35%. No boss can see his subordinate in a better chair. My resignation was accepted.
* * *
“Dude I resigned. And it feels great” I called up to tell Roy.
“Great man. We will change the world together. We will not be scared of anything at all. You know how fearless I am. I can walk up to anybody and say anything at all. I am so excited” Roy said.
“So when are you resigning?” I asked.
“Resign? Okayyyyy…lekin… Par mai nahi kar raha resign wesign” Roy said. He suddenly sounded scared.
“Whyyy? Scared of Financial security?”
“Nah nah.”
“Then? Worried about paying your Monthly Installments?”
“Nah Nah.”
“Then?”
“My Mom’s reaction.”
“Saala.. ho liyaa world change.”
* * *
After much persuasion, Roy finally agreed to tell his Mom that he was resigning.
“Mommy, I was thinking something” Roy said.
“I know what you want to say. You want to have Rajma Chawal for dinner, right? You have no idea what’s good for you. You need to have ghiya and it’s been decided.”
Roy wondered if it would be easier to convince her on the choice of his career than the dinner menu.
“Mommy, I want to be a businessman.”
“Wow, really? When are you resigning?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Great.”
Roy was elated. It had turned out to be such an anticlimax from his expectations. He was now going to be an entrepreneur.
Roy and I met in Turquoise Cottage.
“Dude, so now both of us have resigned from our multimillion dollar jobs to become businessmen” Roy announced.
“Wow. Cheers to that. So what business are we doing?” I said.
“What? You haven’t thought of that?”
“I thought you had an idea?”
#FuckMyLife



