Words do matter.

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent
about things that matter~ martin luther king
Words heal..
Words reassure..
Words express...

Book review : God is a Gamer by Ravi Subramanian

I had the pleasure of reading God is a Gamer by Ravi Subramanian. 

Thank you Blogadda for sending me this book as a part of book review program..

The cover graphically asks a question “Is Revenge a Crime?” Once you start reading the book, you discover only crimes but no revenge. So is it deceiving?
Nope, hold your fire till you reach the end of the book. It fires up slow with seemingly unconnected events happening in distinct parts of the world. Every chapter adds layers to narrative, slowly building up the tension and the mystery. Initially the plot takes time to build up but during the second half the book you can’t put it down even if you want to. And when you think it’s the end, wait for the last page. It will twist everything once more! For a person like me with no knowledge of finance it took time to be understood in the starting, in grasping the technical terms related to banking; else it’s a smooth read moving through the ups and downs of the corporate world.

Individuals and their private lives aren’t much communicated for the reader to connect to any person but portrayal is enough for the story to move quickly leaving the details to reader’s imagination.

Books seems to be a well-researched; relating to a few real life happenings too. It introduces the reader to fairly new concept of bitcoins. All the essential information is nicely incorporated through the discussions so the reader doesn’t feels confused or runs a Google search for each new term that comes up (though I still did to have a better understanding on the go).

It doesn’t create a world of its own but holding the reader in reality, it demonstrates what all happens in the world not-so-known. It perfectly blends up various colours of the corporate world. Casual revelations about the personal lives of the characters amazes the reader. It covers everything- love, lies, murders, cons, dishonour, schemes, corruptions, theft and VENGEANCE! The book is, hence, a seamless blend of fact and fiction.

In a single line I would say: A brilliant read after a long time. A page turner.

My rating : 4.5 out of 5

This review is a part of the biggest Book Review Program for Indian Bloggers. Participate now to get free books!

Game of Blogs : Story Weavers (Part 29 of the story)

Read first part here and previous part here.


It had been half hour since they were travelling towards Ferozeshah Kotla stadium. All were silent except the one unmasked terrorist who kept holding his satellite phone and kept calling "Karachi 42 come in" whole through the journey, with no answer from the opposite side.

Tara wasn't as oblivious of the confused looks that passed between the two armed men. Something was not the way they anticipated and that means it was better for them.

"What's happening?" asked the masked man.

"No reply from 'karachi 42'. I wanted to have a green signal before we started with it."

"So does that mean we are not going to be blasted in air?" This came from Tara. Quite amused to be supposedly blasted in some time.

"Don't worry! You are no time getting out alive out of this. Excited?"

"Very!" came the sarcastic reply.
With that, man went back to "Karachi 42, come in" for the rest of the journey.

Shekhar with his team were surrounding Ferozeshah Kotla stadium, waiting for 'go' command from the bomb detection squad.

Yet again, he was amazed at how his family kept getting tangled in this all chaos and then kept helping in their own rescue. Camera in Tara's shoe may have been bad at giving visuals but the audio was clear enough.

Because of that camera they were now at stadium even before the van could reach. And he planned to use the surprise element of their attack to their advantage as much as he could.

"Sir! We found 5 bombs in the stadium. The information was correct. They planned to blow this whole up. Now if they don't have any more of explosives with them in van, I guess stadium is secure."

"Are all the 5 bombs have been taken care of? Can my team now go inside? "

"Yes sir! You may proceed. "

"Go team! Go go go. Take positions. Make use of camouflage and darkness. Be my ninjas. Invisible but potent. You know what has to be done. Mark your target, keep regard of the hostages and shoot right between the eyes. No more face disfigurement. We need to be able to run their faces on facial recognition. Dismissed. "


"Is it activated now? " Aryan asked.

"What? No! You asked me to program it. Not activate it. Also I can't activate it actually. "

"Then who can? And how?"

" Just a few seconds. It's done. " The guy with spectacles and a gum in his mouth, continues playing with his keyboard some more. "Here! Say your password in your as steady voice as you can."

"Jihad ki jeet"

"Thank you. Your password is saved."

Aryan smirked. "Now tell me who can activate and deactivate it? And how?"

"Why, of course you sir! Say that while pressing this button-" he said while pointing at one yellow button on the device "- and it'll tell you it's activated or deactivated. And of course me. No one can break-in my programming except me."

"Very well. Your work here is done" One instant the computer guy was grinning, happy about himself, other instant his eyes went cold with blood oozing out of his heart.

Aryan pressed the yellow button and said carefully "Jihad ki jeet".

"Your device is now active." 


Read the next part of the story here.

“Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”

Game of Blogs : Story Weavers (Part 27 of the story)

Read the first part of the story here and the previous part  here.


 “How did it get so late so soon?” Kareem asked his school principal, sitting in the park. “How could I go so wrong, sir? When did I divert so far away from your teachings?”
“No matter how far you have gone on a wrong road, turn back.” Mr. Nair replied placing his hand on Kareem’s head. “There’s never a right time to do the wrong thing and never a wrong time to do the right thing. I have been proud of you all my life. It’s still not late, choose the right path now”
“Insha'Allah! I will sir. Now there’s nothing left to do but go back. Trace my wrong steps and make it right any way I can.”

Jennifer brushed off the solitary tear that escaped watching Kareem and Mr. Nair hug from the distance, securely hidden behind a dumpster. Her heart swelled with love for Kareem all over again. This is the one she fell for all those years ago.


“Where are you taking us?” Tara asked the masked man who stood there in van pointing his rifle at their, her and other 3 media personnel, heads.
That man just stood there glaring at them one by one.
“So, you’re not the one in lead? Or even you don’t know where that boss of yours’ is taking us to?” Tara taunted him, in spite of the fear that clutched her heart.
He still stood there silently, throwing murderous looks towards Tara particularly.
Tara would be lying if she said she wasn’t scared but not so much for her safety, she guessed there was a reason why they chose media members particularly from the crowd of hundreds of observers. She knew they needed her and her other 3 fellow members alive, for now at least.
Hell! She even day dreamed of being held hostage, if only to put her spy cam-recorder to use someday, the one tailored in her shoe. It was difficult given the situation with all their hands tied to the central pole in the centre of the van, with four of them sitting like lions in Emblem of India. She tried getting her shoe as angled towards the face of their captor as she could.
“Ustaad!” Aryan bowed in respect as he was called in to meet.
As-salamu alaykum! Kaho kya khabar hai hindustaan ki?” The voice boomed in the closed room. Unable to see the source of the voice Aryan looked around hoping to find his godfather.
“Ustaad bas akhiri maukaam aa gya hai. Humare do log is waqt research centre par kabza karte hi honge. Insha'Allah mission kamyaab ho kar hi rahega.”
“Hmmm. Insha'Allah allah tumhara saath de. Khuda Hafiz.”
“Khuda Hafiz.” Aryan bowed again and left.
Jennifer woke up dazed. Looking around she gathered she was in a hospital, but she didn’t remember coming here. She checked her wrist for time but stopped short, horrified to find blood on her hands. She didn’t remember how it got there.
A nurse came in the room, reaching for the monitors to check on Jennifer. “Excuse me. How did I come here? What happened to me?”
Nurse looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “Miss. It’s ok, you have mild concussion. You hit your head when you fainted on the road. Doctor gave you some flat Anaesthesia to keep you sedated till you recover.”
Fainted. Where did I… stunned she could now remember everything. She was waiting at the point where Kareem had asked her to meet after meeting up with the principal. She remembered waiting there for 15 minutes till someone Principal called on her phone.
“Hello! Sir?”
“Hello! Miss Ahana, is it?” Some unknown voice answered.
“Yes! Who is this?”
“Miss I am inspector Sharma, I am sorry to inform you that the person who this phone belonged to was just found dead here in an alley. I am trying to locate his relatives. Yours was the last number received on this phone. Do you know any of his relatives?”
Jennifer stood there scared-stiff. Dead. Sir? Dead. But I saw him half hour ago in the park with Kareem.
“Hello miss! Is anybody there?”
“Hello officer. Yes, yes I do know his daughter. I’ll convey the message right away.”
“Thank you miss.”
Kareem!! Dialling principal’s daughter’s number she started running back towards the park where she had last seen Kareem. But she didn’t have to run too far, not 20 feet away from where she was supposed to meet him 15 minutes ago, lay Kareem surrounded in his own blood, lifeless, limp. His face ashen, eyes closed, his hands open wide palm facing upwards.
“Kareeeeeeem! No no noooooooo!” Jennifer rushed upto where he lay. Pressing with bohe her hands over his heart, she tried giving him CPR. “Wake up! Kareem you can’t do this to me!” Pumping over and over again she kept up her tries. Wake up! Kareem we have so many wrong to be made right. Kareem! Kareem!...”
Her hands. This was Kareem’s blood. Her love, her life. Everything that now would remain incomplete… without him.
 The other terrorist who was till now engaged with the van’s driver, came into the back compartment. Tara cunningly but subtly crossed her legs in order to capture the new face in her hidden shoe cam-recorder. She’ll need it, if she survived this.
“How much more time will it take?” The masked man who stood with his rifle, asked the new entrant.
“About half an hour. This Delhi traffic! Even in the time of national crisis, these people still have got places to go!” He said in irritation and spat on the Van’s floor.
“So you knew where we are going.” Tara interjected smirking up at the masked man. Other hostages squirmed in fear, nudging Tara to stop provoking them.
Second terrorist, though not masked in fabric had a face as expressionless as a pumpkin, wearing a mask or another kind. “What is she talking about?”
“Nothing! I think she is overly excited about getting killed.” Masked man finally addressed her, almost.
“We are not killing them yet. Not until they have served their purpose. Not until we get our orders from Ustaad.”
“Where are you taking us? And why?” Tara interjected again. Pulling knees towards her shoulders.
Second man eyed her in contempt. Crouching in front of her, he regarded her with narrowed eyes. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.” Smiling wickedly he continued “From here we are going to reach the Ferozeshah Kotla stadium. Once there, we will make you media monkeys to jump through some hoops and then when we are done with you, we’ll blow you all up with the stadium. BOOM!”

Tara sat there gaping at him.


Read the next part of the story here.

“Me and my team are participating in ‘
Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”