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NITIE - Nishant Ranjan


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NITIE - Nishant Ranjan

  1. 1. The Journey Into a Daydreamer’s MindINSIDE A DAYDREAMER’S MIND
  2. 2. MY DREAMWhat is my Dream?• To get a book of short story with poetry published• To sell 1,000 copies of the book Why? • I feel I need to tell what I have to tell to people who like reading funny and flowing writing.
  3. 3. HOW WILL IT COME TRUE Budget = Rs. 1,50,000 Cost Breakup • Pre-Publishing = Rs. 16,000 • Prepare manuscript to circulate to publishers - free • Proof Read – Rs. 1,000 • Editing & Cover Design – Rs. 10,000 • Foreword – difficult to get for a newbie author so cost is nil. • Obtaining Copyrights - Rs. 5,000 • Getting ISBN number - free in India • Printing = Rs. 1,00,000 • Typing and Typesetting – Rs. 10,000 • Publishing Cost – Rs. 90,000
  4. 4. HOW WILL IT COME TRUE Post Publishing/ Marketing = Rs. 34,000 • Distribution Costs – Rs. 25,000 • Marketing on Website and Social Networking platforms – Rs. 9,000 Time Frame = 9 months (September 2012 to May 2013) • Manuscripting – 3 months (September to November) • Typing/Typesetting & Proof Reading – 1 month (December) • Printing and marketing – 5 months (January to May)
  5. 5. SNEAK PEAK INTO THE BOOKHORRORS OF MY MINDChapter one – The eagle has landed.Loneliness….a word you have heard for so long and so often. It cannot be defined. It is as conspicuous as air. I haveseen two kinds of loneliness in this world. One that you feel when you are all by yourself and wish someone wasthere. Someone who would watch from behind while you ignored that person so as to give yourself a sense of falseimportance. The other kind is the one which you feel when you are amongst all the people you have in your life. Youstill feel the absence of someone whom you could talk to. That is the kind of feeling I am undergoing with everybreath that I take. Am I lost?You would be wondering what am I talking about? That is obvious. So I start from the day I was born. It was themonth of September 85 – honestly I am not sure of the weather then but these days September month is marked byrains which reach the pinnacle of monotony, having begun early in the month of July. My mother had been on a fastthe day before I was due. It was festival of ‘Teej’ which she did not want to skip. Though she stood out as awonderful wife for this but this did not help her get in my good books. Wonder what I could have been had she notbeen on the fast. One extra day of nutrition! My skinny days had started there and then in her womb itself. Don’t darelaugh! It’s not funny at all.
  6. 6. SNEAK PEAK INTO THE BOOKBut as was expected, I landed on this earth on the eighteenth of September – aday which would someday be rated as important as the second of October or thefifteenth of August. But this was not supposed to be as easy as it sounds. It was asticky situation. I was quite a weakling at birth – underweight by quite a number.But that was not the problem. Doctors had found out that my spine was not asstrong or as solid as people normally are blessed with. It was fluid in somesections. It would eventually solidify only if I survived the initial scary phase ofbeing handled well. Doctors were of the view that I immediately be referred to ahospital in Vellore where they say this could be dealt with. My parents had freakedout by then. Poor fellows!Had they known this would happen nine months earlier they would have never hadme at the first place. All the Gods that Hinduism can support coherently andwithout ambiguity were summoned at the earliest. Wonder how? My grandma – thebest network to Almighty guaranteed.Was it fate or was it a miracle – it’s hard to say but things were not that grave 24hours later. Now the warning of the doctors had mellowed down from an impendingfatality to a mere inability to walk in the future. But my grandma was a very toughnut to crack then. She would not give up that easily - a hard bargainer to say theleast. A second summon was sent to all the potent Gods to do their stuff. Butbefore they could even acknowledge the receipt of the request, she took it uponherself not only to see me healthy (wealthy and wise understood) but also walk,run, jump, skip , fly etc. (sorry. not fly! just went with the flow not realizing thatgravity would get upset if I ever did that).
  7. 7. SNEAK PEAK INTO THE BOOKGetting discharged from the hospital was easy. My parents were given a codebookof instructions that read – ‘HOW TO KEEP AN ANGEL LIKE ME HAPPY?’ (Iwonder how many of you have started thinking whether there exists such a book.)but the few instructions that I got to know about later were - not to make me sleepon my rear side but my tummy side (which I do even till today) and not to let me crywhich I was quite talented at. My tears if harvested would have solved waterscarcity problems in many a countries today. Water ministry is still to respond to theproposal though.As I grew up my grandma and mummy did more than their best in bearing my non-sense. I was quite unique in my ways. I never touched the milk bottle. I was spoon-fed since a very early age. It needed a team of dedicated people to feed me. Onewould hold my hands. My legs would be in another’s grip. Mummy would thrust thespoon in my mouth and I would help them out by gulping down the stuff that hadirritated my taste buds and upset my oesophagus. Children who ate their own stuffwithout any dissent were mythical characters to my mother. As a result of thisintense labour my bodyweight never attained satisfactory levels. My race to sizezero was on.Those who were able to look beyond my much sought-after physique saw me as asmart Alec whose wit could undo the most pompous of reputations. Ideas croppedin my mind as fast as a clock’s tick. I would blurt them out in public and peoplewould show their appreciation by having a hearty laugh at the one who was the buttof my jokes. If ever I overdid something I was given a dressing down which kept megrounded to my elements. However the reputation of a jester had started takingflight.