About Historia....

My blog, honestly, is totally unknown. It is like a blade of grass under a cover of fallen autumn leaves but thanks to accidental surfers, they land up on my blog. You too could be one of those. THANK YOU!! (Beware! There will be a lot of thanking ahead.)

Guess what?  There is something that is even less known in the larger world. I spent hours on it, really. That's my book 'Historia, observing the oblivion'. While I started my blog in my 9th grade, I had started my book by the end of 8th grade itself. There is much more than time in this comparison. While my blog was just playtime for me, my book was a more serious playtime. I was much more involved while writing Historia and I invested much more of myself for this book. (Actually, was it a book?) But, yes. This, too was playtime which is perhaps why I had no idea how and where I was driving the story. That led to many limitations in the presentation.

By my 10th grade, I was done. Hurray! But then I asked myself "what next?"
The answer was simple - I DON'T KNOW.....  Then I was done with my 10th grade. I spent several more hours across a couple of weeks to have my book typed down. The million dollar question was still unanswered. After that was done I discovered something on the world's best friend, the World Wide Web. That Amazon had a programme called 'Kindle Direct Publishing' through which one could sell books online with a few clicks, seemed like a gift from heaven. I was all set to upload my book, when my father advised me to take my school principal's help. (By the way I did my 10th grade in Silver Oaks. My principal, Mrs. Seetha Murty was my best friend then.) So I did as I was told. I mailed her revealing this golden truth about me. I introduced her a young author.

She was overwhelmed as I understood. She read it over and said, "Don't worry. I am here." Then my school published it. A book launch was held on June 12th, 2015 and we had a few guests. I fumbled and spoke. I was on cloud nine, literally.  It was published with this cover. (I designed it, by the way)

Me speaking at the book launch

(Left to Right) Mr. Dhanunjay, my school's director; Mrs. Seetha Murty, school principal; Me; Dr. Anjaneya Reddy,; and Dr. Jayaprakash Narayan, guests

Then off, I went to my new school, Rishi Valley. After I returned home on vacations, I realised that I hadn't executed my original plans yet. "KDP, I am coming," I said. Again it failed but this month it didn't. On March 31st I uploaded my book's file on Amazon and the world can buy it as an e-book.

Yes this post is an advertisement. But more than that, it is a memoir. All that I am trying to do is revisit my experiences and express my feelings, precisely what I do in my other posts. However the idea of this being an advertisement makes me laugh as my blog is hardly visited. Once upon a time, when I first began using this blog, I kept coming back to it to check the views on my post. Today I do that to check my book's performance. This is the most disheartening experience.

This is the link to my book:
http://www.amazon.com/Historia-observing-oblivion-Revanth-Ukkalam-ebook/dp/B01DOFRWL2/ref=sr_1_17?ie=UTF8&qid=1461228164&sr=8-17&keywords=historia

The E-book version. Yes, the cover is changed.

Now... About the book. It is quite simple.

To reproduce the blurb,
"A boy and his father are separated by a kleptomaniac evil scientist. At the same time in an entirely different hemisphere two boys and two robots are on endeavours 'observing oblivion'. What unites them is their common desire for knowledge, wisdom, and understanding. The story does not end there. Their story is that of the whole world, a whole century, and the whole of time."

In the preface of the book, I admitted about my weaknesses in writing and acknowledged the limitations in the book but they are obvious to the reader. What is most important for me is a review. I want my book to be read and commented upon. I am ready to learn. Can you teach me?

At this link, you can find the book  [http://www.amazon.com/Historia-observing-oblivion-Revanth-Ukkalam-ebook/dp/B01DOFRWL2/ref=sr_1_17?ie=UTF8&qid=1461228164&sr=8-17&keywords=historia] for $3.

Goodreads link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27859342-historia-observing-the-oblivion


Thank You. I WANT TO LEARN!

Short Story - I

Great Pretender - I

Blood bath and a flower bed

The woman gazed into the mirror and adored herself as her jewelry adorned her. A faint smile sprouted out of her pale, small face. She wondered what her could be doing. She loved him, cared for him, and above all, trusted him. She considered herself the luckiest wife and perhaps also the luckiest woman. She sat on her couch and recalled and ruminated her past. Her past, she believed, was filled with moments of surprise, moments of joy, moments of love and affection. The woman called herself Anne Boleyn. She stepped out of her room and paced in the corridor of the castle. Her maids followed her. Anne wore a small crown to rule the whole of England. The crown that usually glittered did not glimmer today. The day was dark. The meadows of England were shadowed by a palanquin of thick clouds. 

The Queen of England entered her garden and seated herself on a bench. With her palms rested upon her laps and her fingers watching the sky, she probed the garden with her eyes for the little winged friends of hers. There were chirps, whistles, and hoots. Her garden had flowers that she loved. Tulips, roses, and orchids of all colours and sizes. She gently ran her hand over an ocean of red and white roses. 

She ran in her memory lane and into her history books and she met the past of the legacy that her husband had inherited. The struggle between Yorkists and Lancastrians painted itself on her memory canvas. She saw Henry VII being bequeathed the Crown of England. She hummed a tune that she had herself never heard. Her hum came to a sudden halt as the bees' buzzing amplified. She listened intently. Nature seemed like a church choir and an orchestra to her. The garden played the lute and the flute. She began to stroll and join the music. The concert ended with the premises of the castle. Henry VIII gave an august entry. He wore a regal attire and presented a regal demeanour. He approached Anne Boleyn and placed his heavy hand on her shoulders. His white beard shone like a lion's mane. Together the royal couple entered the castle. 

Leaving Anne to herself, he went to meet his advisor. Thomas Cromwell, brilliant statesman, official, and strategist welcomed Henry with the spark of his smile. Cromwell had assisted Henry in every crucial part of his life. Henry had become a revolutionary and a reformist king only through this man's skill and intelligence. The whole Europe looked up to Henry as he had absorbed the winds of change and the reformation. Henry had taken up Lutheran principles and embraced the protestant religion. This moment was seen as a harbinger of change. The seeds sown in Germany reaped in England, they believed. This too was Cromwell's brain child. The break-up with the pope was not just a religious contract, but a prelude to a marital contract. The peasant woman to whom he had given away his heart could step into his threshold only with this break-up. Anne Boleyn became queen only because England became protestant. Now Henry had come for another engagement. Cromwell took the news with a grin. Together they discussed matters under their breath and with the melting candle giving out a flickering light. 

A week of later, the people of London reached the spot to bid their love adieu. Anne Boleyn spoke to her beloved people. She blessed them and she prayed to God and prepared to reach his abode. She denied the government's accusation of her adultery. The support that her subject offered stood testimony to her chastity. She closed her eyes to offer her last prayers and with her silence, off went the sword and Anne lay dead. The man whom she had loved - more than her own self - had conspired against her and stabbed her on her back. The English people sobbed with anguish.

Soon Henry found a new consort and the English people could only glare at her. The Great Pretender did his job: Pretending and he did it really well. He went on and on pretending until he reached his own grave.