Ravinder Singh is an Indian author, who rose to fame with his debut novel I Too Had a Love Story. This book narrates his real-life love story, with a girl (called. Love Stories That Touched My Heart book. Read reviews from the world's largest community for readers. An anthology of moving, inspirational, heartwar. heart ravinder singh | Get Read & Download Ebook love stories that touched my heart ravinder singh as PDF for free at The Biggest ebook.
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Love Stories That Touched My Heart - Ebook download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read book online. Love Stories That Touched My Heart. "Love—only a four letter word, yet it's so powerful that it can conquer anything in this world! We've all experienced the first flush of love and remember the. love stories that touched my heart ravinder singh pdf - stories that touched my heart ravinder singh pdf may not make exciting reading, but love stories that.
For Mitali. Your dear princess fell again. Continuing to add formulae to her Excel sheet. In a way, it was a nice read and a worthy concept by the writer. General conversation between me and the so-called prospective brides would go something like this: You are not feeling well?
I looked at them from a distance. Let me tell you something about me and football. I was thrilled to spot an escalator and hopped right on. I almost felt like I was back in Nashik. At the first floor. I went to place an order at the glass-top counter and there she was—the Girl behind the Counter. The thick and sleek black tresses almost shone and one lock of hair.
The contents were reassuring. The path to the street was blocked by a team of sweaty Tshirts and delirious outcries of boys of my age and less playing football. A crisp hundred-rupee note. Our fatso quickly defected to his left and furiously kicked the ball at a scared teenager who turned reflexively to his side.
The ball hit his elbow. But with the noise these kids made with their Ringa Ringa and catch and hopscotch and whatnot. Confession—I had no idea what Frankies were. All the years we stayed with my grandparents in my native town. I made my way to the exit. A basic vegetarian Frankie cost around forty and went up to fifty five if you wanted many fancy fillings. I wondered if they were so expensive that it would drive my pride of being loaded away. I slept smiling ear to ear.
In spite of the culinary wonder in front of me. I felt like stabbing myself with a spoon. And was that sweat on my forehead? At the same time. It was her voice. I went back to the table with eyes squeezed shut hard. I saw Fatso taking his position in the D and stopped walking. I wondered. Fatso used brute force and jerked aside the guys from the opposing team standing on.
I woke up fresh as a deodorant! The next day I borrowed a fifty from mother and pressed the elevator button. I cringed as my fingers tingled. I tried to power up. The same noise on the ground floor lobby.
But this is taking too long. Speak up. I screamed inside and mentally rehearsed what I had to say. I must tell you. I understand I sound shallow but I call upon the puberty-license. Yours truly is no exception to this rule. I reasoned. The next instant. I feigned interest in the pile of tissues in the waste bin behind her as I dug into my pocket. It was the Tall Stick taking aim this time. How hard is it? A question popped in my head—how is schezwan pronounced? C and H are silent. She meant me.
Her eyes were everything the on-screen actors swoon to and poets write couplets about. I praised myself. I produced the hundred rupee note and extended my hand to pay.
How can two consecutive letters be silent. Only pretty ones are. In spite of having absolutely no dreams involving her. You see. You get it. Or was it? She gave no other indication of my lapse. I dreaded the moment I would finish my roll and walk back.
As I was just stepping on it. I smiled back stupidly. I had taken special measures to make myself presentable. She gave me her known-you-since-ages smile and asked me to take a seat. I walked up to her and went straight to the counter. I went up directly at the counter and ordered without referring to the menu. Tall Stick pushed him to the ground but Fatso was clearly having a time of his life. Taking the Frankie. Like I even cared. I scolded myself. She accepted the money and said.
I decided the moment I woke up. I wanted to disappear from the spot that made me feel like a coward. She was not going to eat me up if I strike a conversation with her. Being well-mannered was her job description. My gait was confident and tone smooth. Bless her. It was her. She smiled at me. Ask what her name is. I wondered how I could have been so foolish.
I hurriedly walked to the escalator. The same traffic. I felt a pat on my shoulder. Even when I heard a minor commotion in the background. I took the seat facing her. It was embarrassing. The same sunny smile. Since there were hardly any customers. As I lay on my bed that night. Being myself. I grinned at him. Today is when this phoenix shall soar into the blue skies of hope. My heart violently jolted into a see-saw. I turned back. The more I observed. I had taken the pain of applying a small amount of face powder.
She was an epitome of effortless grace. The way she fluently dealt with cash.
What she did was exactly the opposite. Or did I? What was it that I felt for her? I stopped on my tracks as the word hit me between the eyes—fascination. I thought as I went up the escalator. I will. I enjoyed the movie I saw. I turned to look at the stained glass facade of the mall.
She was not at the counter though. Carry on. It was yet another slow weekday. It was a funny feeling. I rehashed the events in my mind and tried to articulate what I felt being the unwilling witness.
Would you. My palpitation jacked up as I noticed her. I like the Frankie. Was I sad? I turned and looked at one of the stained glass windows of Spencer Mall. I did like her. I managed a. I was captivated by her. I had Shakespeare to endorse that. It was only when I reached the counter that she noticed me. She was my white tiger. I like the Frankie Girl. So why did I turn back? What if she has a boyfriend? What was I hoping for anyway? This is it.
I saw her affectionately pulling his cheek. The guy kissed her on the cheek and she responded by whispering something in his ear.
She went behind the counter and adorned her position. I wanted to look away.
As I walked towards her. I am so sorry. I enjoyed the familiar noise of the bhajans. Giving me another of her wellpractised smiles. I smiled wider. It was just a warm handshake. That thing was skipping. She followed suit.
I felt inclined to talk to him but zeroed on procrastinating it—I had socialized too much for a day already. The guy was ravenously friendly. On the contrary. Aditya recognized the figure and his eyes lit up as the figure too gave a squeal of joy. This was unexpected. She hugged him back. As I walked towards the lobby.
Nothing about his tone was forceful. I went back to my building. There was no audible heartbeat this time. I retraced my footsteps. I took in a deep breath. All the football players had evaporated but for one guy.
I saw a figure running towards us. I went to the counter and smiled. I can. Fatso was shooting against the wall and chasing the ball as it bounced back. This time there was no long lasting tingling sensation. The girl was about my age. And you? And eventually. Nikhil Arora. I shook it. Hang in there. Was it a tingling sensation I felt?
Aditya noted my presence and quickly released her. She shook it. I dropped it. My face brightened. I am going to run and get one for each of you. He laughed stupidly and said. I am very sensitive to getting a bad cough in this season and I cannot bear the chill. I am going to face my fear of relationships.
But the combination of loudly hooting trains and my immense fear of heights makes the situation more horrific. I feel sleepy. But first I have go to the loo. Are you fucking out of your mind! I can do this. How many clothes have you stuffed in your bag?
It is way too heavy! I can be a total freak. As it is an all-night journey. And today I am going to experience all of them. It is heavy! Soon we are in front of a big—no. One more addition to my Hate List is this goddamned winter season.
I love romantic Korean movies. Now you must be getting a clearer idea of my freakishness. When it comes to heights. I will take my luggage myself. I take my laptop and climb on to the upper berth. So I have put as many woollens in my bag as on my body. Here comes the auto rickshaw. I doze off later. I am not going to look down. I think he must be barely a graduate—a narrowminded control freak. Having stood up. His perfectly trimmed muscles can be seen. Suddenly his voice breaks the spell.
I just fell from the train. Looking out the window. Soon we are in their car—an Endeavor. I get up and go downstairs to the main hall.
I have seen that already. He is wearing a white kurta—pyjama. I grab that hand and pull myself up. The building itself is breathtakingly gorgeous. It is beautiful.
Everybody rushes out of the train except me. When I wake up. The train arrives at the station. We are going to meet D.
Now this is more embarrassing. Finally we have arrived at the farmhouse. And the handsome man is none other than his one and only son. Everybody is there having dinner. He is driving the car and I can feel butterflies in my stomach. It is cozy inside. My brother is laughing as usual. I can manage. I am struggling with my bag and suddenly I tumble on to the platform.
He is dangerously handsome. Sharma Uncle and his family. Is he not feeling cold? May be he is already too hot. The entrance gate is covered with some kind of flowering creeper. Men in villages want housewives.
I immediately start brushing my clothes. Without looking at who it was who offered to help me get up. The top buttons of his kurta are unbuttoned. Could there be anything else that one can want in life? We are in our separate rooms now. There is a nameplate: Can I do this any better?
Crap … I realize I slept all day. Their family is very affluent but I never wanted a man who lives in a remote area and is a farmer. Coolies are competing to get into the train. I am feeling very sleepy so I just snuggle under my quilt and sleep. You are trying to flirt with me. I cover my eyes all the time so that if any thing shitty happens I can close my eyes immediately. It is always risky to watch romantic movies with parents or with a hot guy like him.
As if I care … After dinner. And after both of them are fully. As I touch his hand. I think. And here he is—Mr Perfect. I have them. The heroine then helps the hero to unbutton his jeans. Mr Perfect is also there. Now they are kissing each other ferociously. I try to move so that I can fast forward the movie. Somebody knocks at the door. He is about to leave when he suddenly turns and asks.
I got you. I am impressed. Mrs Sharma is a beautiful lady and anybody can see where her son gets his good looks from. His hand is warm. He is sitting at a desk. It is a very cold. So the next time I find him alone. He clutches it tightly to help me get up. I confront him. I stumble into a slushy part of the path. As I remain lost in my own thoughts. I realize I have hurt my foot. The movie finishes at 1 a. Or maybe not?
I must know for certain. He looks up. Everybody laughs at this. How dare he? And thus the movie goes on. What is he doing here? Why is he always there to rescue me from my own disasters?
I clear my throat. Apart from landing like a fool into the slush. The next morning I get out of my room. The hero kisses the heroine gently on her forehead. Oh … this forehead-kissing scene is my favourite. Mr Perr … err … Daksh. Your dear princess fell again.
What was I doing last night? Talking to myself. Just give me your hand. Can we talk later?
He gets up to leave. As we enter the house. Standing up. Even now. He is calm but I can see his facial muscles clenching as he tries to hide his smile. I am busy right now. Am I trying to impress him? No way! Everybody is trying to look their best. I push him away and manage to calm myself. I need water.
My mouth is so close to his. As we get ready for the outing. But still I ensure to put on my best dress—and I realize how very pleased I am to have taken the pains of bringing so many dresses with me on this trip. Oh boy. Indian mothers can be such a headache sometimes! The streetlamps look beautiful this foggy evening. It was Anoop asking me to come to the hall. Later in the evening.
I rush to attend to my mother. Mom is asking me to go alone with a boy! I insist. All I can focus on. I consciously try to ignore what happened with Mr Perfect that afternoon. I cannot move … I want to step back but I find myself simply unable to move. He is looking into my eyes. For that moment I forget everything around us. He lifts up my chin and gently runs his thumb over my lips. I will also go with you. Suddenly he pulls me into his arms. What else you want me to do?
I am trying to look down. So to end this awkwardness I start a conversation. Thank God! I cannot bear landing in one more scandalous moment after that afternoon. I know what mom is trying to do. I would definitely want a wife who can stay with me. He then hugs me tightly. Please stop watching those romantic movies in which the hero—heroine get stuck in a car and then their romance starts. Although it is far below us. I am dumbstruck at that moment.
As we reach the top. A narrow-minded control freak. I can see the river on the other side. I can hear his breath in my ears as he says. This cannot actually be happening. I am feeling good about it.
A cold breeze blows my hair over my face. This scene is breathtaking. I feel great—so amused and thrilled. All this only happens in the movies. Mr Perfect gets down on one knee. Stubborn girl. But still I am confused about why he wants me to marry him? He can get any girl he wants. I wish I could hold on to that moment forever. To the top of the hill.
Be my wife. He lips come close to mine and then he softly kisses me on my lips. Just a thought. Here is Mr Perfect—and that too on his knees.
Be mine. Mumbled in between sobs and sniffles. I thought I will die from a heart attack rather than old age. Thirty years of hope. The first reactions of the lovers took the whole crowd by surprise!
Instead of a warm. Cheers and claps followed. It was like watching two chimps in a zoo being moved into the same cell for the first time. Hare Krishna! Age had worn and withered both their physical appearances but some marks were forever.
Putti … Sob! My Krishna has come back to his Radha. The meeting finally took place at Cubbon Park. A Love Story in Reverse! The benevolence and support that you all have showered upon this tiny blog has brought colossal contentment to our beloved Ramanima. After a light-hearted speech everyone left for their respective homes. After they were satisfied with their findings. I realized that love is not just about being romantic and mushy.
So I called the number. I will be available from I roamed the free streets of Punjab with not a care in the world. My friends tell me that I am insane. It read: The voice at the other end was hesitant and had an unrecognizable accent.
Nearly two weeks ago I received a postcard from a chap in Dublin. We may have finally found Singhji. I would eat. After all. Hello again … Before you ask me anything. But there was also willingness and a sense of relief. I had no job.
I am 99 per cent sure it his him. It is because of you that two lives will be changed forever! I know this journey has been lengthy and tedious. But there was something intriguing about this card.
But you. I was very unhappy about this decision but I respected him enough to obey his orders.
These are the moments that will affect your entire life. What I heard next I would not have anticipated in a million years. At first I thought this was a prank by yet another one of the many pranksters who have sent us fake letters.
Only you. I had a way with the ladies and secretly dated many girls during my day. But when we finally saw the light of day we were not in the USA! He told me that my brother had been captured by the police and they were coming after me since they did not want to leave anything to chance. All this while I was in touch with Ramani and we exchanged letters often. He said that our father had been killed and that riots had begun all over the north of India against the Sikhs.
The rest. I had to leave Mysore immediately. People who considered each other brothers had turned into bitter foes. They also threatened to kill me. As soon as I reached home. She was the only one who could turn a hooligan like me into a little puppy with just her words. He told me that the only way to get out of this mess was to leave the country in a shipping container and flee to the USA. To cross over into the USA. I courted her for ten months before she finally reciprocated my love.
Within a month my eldest brother was killed and my middle brother was once again asked to join the group. That same night I left in the container with forty other men heading to the USA. I had instantly fallen in love with her charms. There were very few girls who studied with us. Even to this day my heart skips a beat whenever I think about her.
She was the most beautiful of all the girls at the university. But I knew that I would never be able to see her again. She was heartbroken when I last saw her.
It was hard to court a girl like her. Everyone was asked to get approximately a lakh of Indian rupees in exchange for their lives. The survivors ran for their lives through the forests. After that we had to cross the forest at night. Little did I know that it would be the last time I saw my beloved. I was met with a rude shock. But there was this one girl. We travelled for twenty-seven days with limited food and water. As expected. All in all in a span of fifty minutes. Those who did not have anyone back in India were shot on the spot.
I received a call from my brother. On the river. I learnt about new things like discipline and respect for fellow students. This would have to be our time to move. When he refused. My eldest brother was forced to join the Sikh extremist group. I saw that only twelve of my friends had survived! After that we asked for political refuge in the land of dreams.
Imagine having to wait for thirty years! I joined a few other Indians and set up a small spare-parts business. Call it spinelessness or cowardice. I know this must be too much to take in. It took me three months to decide if I should contact you and I am glad I did. And tell her you have found her Krishna for her. And I justly have to thank and give most of the credit to my friends who supported us through our blockbuster journey which we made together.
The wait has finally ended for all of us. The police then captured the remainder of us and held us at the police station for questioning. The location is booked and the message has been spread.
I was still that same hotblooded Sikh. We lost two of our friends to the bullets. I have never travelled to India. The border guards! After that. Today I head the Europe zone of the company. They fought for our rights and we were granted citizenship. Then one night. It was different—it was victory mixed with a sense of witnessing true love unfold.
Looking around. You believe me. How much you had dedicated your life to finding me! I was ashamed. And from there. Oh God! I am so wound up! I actually had a lump in my throat.
Somewhere deep down. I used the Internet to find you. He sent me the details from the business card you had left. It was only after another ten years that we finally were helped by a non-government organization. We all gather at the rock in Cubbon Park. Let us all be dressed in something red. We were granted it. I am really overwhelmed at how much support we have been receiving from all our beloved readers.
I Am a Love Fool! What a coincidence? Today is the first of April and here. I feel that all of us are slowly losing faith in the great love story. And I am sure that most people today think that commitment is something that weighs us down. We study the examples of Romeo and Juliet. Even so. And in good humour I thank all our readers for cheering us a bit with all these pranks.
I have never found true love. This Fairy Godmother is on a mission! I can never really thank you guys enough! Let me tell you why this story is so important: I have been in and out of relationships and no one has really stuck on.
I must state. I decided that I was going to become the modern-day Fairy Godmother to this ever-sohopeful Cinderella. She even helped us track down the house. I felt like I was being told the plot of a movie.
I just returned from my fourth trip to Jalandhar and unfortunately it has still yielded no results. This piece of crucial information was shared by a Miss Harpreet. A chance encounter on my trip to Mysore has left me with no option but to use this medium of mass reach to start a hunt. Thanks again. I have a mission to embark upon. My cause is a little selfish. Epic love has always been referred to in the past tense since we have no such examples to provide in the present!
Society has advanced so much now that we have no time for anything! But I am nowhere close to finding Singhji. In fact. So cute! Their love story was cut short when he suddenly left for Jalandhar when the riots broke out there. Incidentally there is even a part where she put Singhji through a test to prove his love. She had her best memories there and she narrated her story with such passion that we got lost in the details.
She had been waiting for him for about thirty years. How can anyone know that? But while India may have got her freedom. One thing led to another and he was made to beat up thirteen guys.
For the past five months I have turned hundreds of pages of directories. I had met a woman who told me her story of lost love—and it was so heartwarming that I got swept away by it. When she showed us the letters. I was driving from Bangalore to Mysore with a couple of friends. Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Open Preview See a Problem?
Details if other: Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. Arka Datta Goodreads Author. An anthology of moving, inspirational, heartwarming or heartbreaking, love stories shortlisted in a nation wide contest by Penguin India!
Love only a four letter word, yet its so powerful that it can conquer anything in this world! We've all experienced the first flush of love and remember the lingering fragrance of it.
For ages Love has remained one of the most cherished An anthology of moving, inspirational, heartwarming or heartbreaking, love stories shortlisted in a nation wide contest by Penguin India! For ages Love has remained one of the most cherished experiences that everyone wishes to live through at least once. Humanity, time and again, has coined many definitions to describe this beautiful emotion, but this small word is a feeling that cant simply be defined.
It has to be narrated. Love Stories That Touched My Heart is a collection of such stories from readers who have a tale to tell, shortlisted from over entries that were submitted in a competition conducted by Penguin India. Selected and edited by Ravinder Singh, this anthology made up of the stories that touched Ravins heart the most will make you believe that someone, somewhere, is made for you.
Get A Copy. Paperback , pages. More Details Original Title. Other Editions 4. Friend Reviews. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. This question contains spoilers… view spoiler [list of chapter? Uma Raju This answer contains spoilers… view spoiler [i want detail of listof chapters?
Lists with This Book. Community Reviews. Showing Rating details. Sort order. Jan 09, Jenny rated it it was ok Shelves: It's a nice collection of love stories. Few stories were very good,but most of them were okay-ish. View 2 comments. Apr 29, Vivek rated it liked it.
I love short stories but am just a bit wary of love stories. However I end up reading most of the anthologies published in India, whatever the genre. The stories are crisp, well written and edited and most leave a warm afterglow in your heart. View 1 comment. Jan 01, Nikita Parmar rated it it was amazing. View all 6 comments. Apr 14, Rishi Prakash rated it liked it. It is a collection of good and average love stories shortlisted in a nation wide contest by Penguin India which is the best part about the book.
They had organised a nation wide competition and finally the top 25 where selected which got published here. Ravinder did his part too by editing and making it better. It definitely has some moving, inspirational, heartwarming and heartbreaking stories which makes you believe that some of these authors will go and become big names in future for sure.
Go It is a collection of good and average love stories shortlisted in a nation wide contest by Penguin India which is the best part about the book. Go for it just to see how a love story can unfold in less than 10 pages and still leave an impression on us.
Feb 04, Srishti rated it liked it. In a way, it was a nice read and a worthy concept by the writer.
Since its a compilation of love stories submitted by different people, one might conclude with different opinions for each one. Some are peppy, some heart-touching and some average strictly according to me.
All in all, its a good one for a quick read. View all 3 comments. Feb 17, Swaroop rated it liked it. Loved it for the simplicity of the new authors. Some stories are really nice. Dec 27, Pathik rated it it was amazing.
It was such a wonderful experience to read them all. Jan 16, Smita Mahajan rated it it was amazing. Dec 12, Aruna Kumar Gadepalli rated it really liked it Shelves: This is a collection of 25 stories with the theme "Love" based on a contest. Edited by Ravindra Singh with an introduction. Easy and quick read. I find few stories interesting as well as touching. Jan 06, Anand Iyer rated it really liked it.
Hats off to writers and editor. Mar 10, Sanjeev Kotnala rated it it was ok. They were simple- quite honest but lacked twist and the power to keep you glued on. Being an anthology with a spread of short love stories by diverse set of young authors was the bait and yours truly fell for it.
The stories were selected by Ravinder - and here was the dicey part. Quality lies in quantity- so whatever maybe the process and the selector- the contest with more than entries would throw up a spectrum of stories. The romantic in me was willing to give it a try.
Oct 16, Sithara Zakir rated it it was amazing. Jan 30, Ulhas rated it liked it. Dec 24, Mansi Nanawati added it. A good read! Jul 29, Ankita Srivastava rated it did not like it.
The editorial note spoke high about the writers whose works have been compiled which compelled me to buy the book.
Unfortunately the stories lacked class, depth and are very childish.