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How I wrote eleven books: A true story of a very personal journey.

It was on this day twelve years ago that my father passed away. There was no warning, no illness, no ailments--nothing. He was alive one moment, chatting and talking to my mother. He had walked 5 kms , his usual  distance, that morning. He had meetings lined up for next day. He was to visit me in Pune, a week later. Instead he leaned back in his chair, while watching TV, closed his eyes and died.

The death changed my perception about everything. It altered forever the way I looked at life. It affected all parts of my being--my health, my daily routine, my philosophy, my core belief system. My father was my strength and my rock. I used to talk to him every day. My day was not complete, unless I had a discussion with him on the phone. He had a curious mind, and we used to talk about everything  in the universe. When he died, a part of me died with him.

 I had started this blog In October 2006,  forty five days after his death. I did not think about what I was doing or how long I would sustain it. All I knew is that I was in unbearable pain. I was  insane with grief. All the people who I considered 'friends' were not there for me when my father died. It was only one or two who came through. The rest, I discovered were just fair-weather friends.

The only thing that gave me a teeny weeny bit of solace was writing. So I wrote. Anonymously at first. I was afraid. I didn't know who would be reading whatever I wrote, and what they would do with that information. I wasn't even sure why I was doing it, but I knew I felt better if I wrote. So I wrote. And I wrote. And  wrote. And then wrote some more. Maybe it was a desperate cry for help. Maybe it was sheer loneliness and not knowing what to do about my grief anymore. Maybe it was universe nudging me towards my destiny. I don't know.

I was surprised when people  who read my blog started writing back to me. They said they saw positivity in my writings. They said my writing made them feel better about life. They wanted to see the person behind these writings.  I broke my own rule of staying anonymous. I revealed my name and my identity.

Those who have read Love a Little Stronger,  know all this, as they are all true stories from my life, adapted from this very blog. The last chapter is about my father's death. I  had always written in journals and diaries. I had also won many prizes at national and state level in writing competitions. But I had never thought of writing as a career option for me. 34 Bubblegums and Candies (which is now republished as Love a Little Stronger) changed that.

Gradually, I made friends online. Friends from other countries. I did not know back then, that I would later travel to those countries, and meet them--all because of my writing.

It's twelve years since my father died. I have written ELEVEN books, in these twelve years. In each of my books, if you read the acknowledgements (and in some the dedications) you will find I mention my father.

My father was a rule breaker, a trend-setter, a pioneer in many things he did. He believed in questioning everything. He would  be single minded and work around the problems in his path. He was a leader. People who knew him will tell you he was undoubtedly the most positive person they knew. He was deeply interested in people--and he could hold a conversation with equal elan whether he was talking to a security guard or a Chief Minister of state. (In his line of work, he often met with Ministers).

I wonder what he would have said if he read my books. I am sure he would have been proud. He would have probably bought tonnes of copies and gifted them away to everyone he knew, his heart swelling with pride, seeing his daughter's name. He would have probably mentioned me to every one who spoke to him.

I owe a lot to my father.
Above all, I owe my never-say-die attitude.

Like I said in A Hundred Little Flames: When those who we love die, they live on inside us.

But that doesn't stop the pain. Whoever said it gets easier with time, lied.
 To whoever said 'He is watching you from Heaven', I can say with certainty, that those words bring no comfort.

I miss him every single day.
I hurt and bleed inside every single day

So I write.

My ELEVENTH book releases  in less than 10 days.
 I wish my father was around to see it.

If you wish to order it, you can do so  HERE


  1. congratulations Preeti on the 11th. His memories are your strength as I can see. Be his proud daughter, always.

    1. Thank you Reshmy. Much appreciate your comment and wishes.

  2. He would b proud of u mam .nd comgrts fr ur 11th book just waiting fr d day when it reach to me....

  3. I have not read it books, but I hope to read

  4. I went through the same thing with my father too and at a much younger age. Death all of a sudden. I relate to this completely. Even i miss him. How old was he at the time?

  5. This comment has been removed by the author.

  6. You have inspired me so much with your writings keep writing mam.

  7. A Father is the first hero for a daughter and undoubtedly this bond is the most precious one. Your father would have been surely proud of your achievements not only on writing front but otherwise too. You are a wonderful human being and success never disappoints a true and honest person. Your positivity has given a direction to your readers who admire you for everything you do . Keep your spirits high and continue all the good work . A star up there is shining brightly cause u are making him proud.

  8. " When those who we love die, they live on inside us " - Just a 10 word saying sums up everything - Keep going , lot more to go :)

  9. Very heart touching and moving post mam. I recently lost a very close friend on sept 1 in a bus accident in Salem. He died along with his wife and in-laws and only his three year old son survived the accident. I had spoken to him last week itself on aug 22 and we were talking about when I'll return to India how he is excited about his new house that he wants me to visit .. his sudden death has shocked me to core and made me realise the futility of all the silly fights we have with our closed is too short and unpredictable. This is the second death of a near one. The first being that of my mom in 2008 due to cancer. I still regret the fact that I was not with her during her last days thinking that she is fine and being unaware of the seriousness of her health. I was back then in college preparing for exams.

  10. I recently broke a rule. I have always been in touch with my best friend every single day be it wherever whichever place I m. However after coming to Germany I broke that rule because I realised that the calls that I gave such importamce was not that imp for my best friend. For me the calls were part of my dialy routine but for my friend it was not so imp. I always adjusted to my friends timings and make them part of my life but not everyone gives friendship that much importance. Hence the rule of always giving preference to others over my own things has been broken by pains me but I have commited to stick to my commitment of breaking this rule...

  11. Dear mam,

    I have finished reading A hundred little flames today and I really loved it.
    I am from Kerala and so I was able to connect more and the most interesting part is that through out the book I was expressing my emotions whether it be happiness, witty or sadness.
    Mam you are really great :)
    If I completed reading this book on a usual day I would not written this comment but morning in my inbox I got your post and I was literally moved by your post.
    Thank you so much for your stories and post that could really touch my heart .
    Once again I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  12. I truely appreciate the honesty with which you have written this blog..i too lost my father in october 1999.and to deal with the loss i started wrting personal diary.offcourse you lose so called friends too.writing gives so much solace n power to overcome the pain.i have read all of your books n luved all.keep writing and keep motivating


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