By Sundari Venkatraman
Jayant Mathur is located murdered in his mattress, shot at point-blank diversity together with his personal revolver. even though she’s super disturbed via his demise, Jayant’s spouse Anjali is far extra disappointed approximately whatever else. Who stands to realize by way of killing the rich person businessman?
Parth Bhardwaj is a pal and neighbour of the Mathurs. Parth is an writer who is going through a pseudonym. He appears to be like greater than a pal to Anjali; whereas he’s additionally on strong phrases together with her son Arjun who lives and reports within the united kingdom. What function does he play in Anjali’s lifestyles? Jayant’s kinfolk are curious to know.
Jayant’s brother-in-law Rana is confident that Parth and Anjali are the murderers. yet Inspector Phadke has his personal doubts approximately this idea. In comes Samrat, the personal detective who looks as quiet as a mouse. Will he be capable to locate the murderer?
Will Anjali locate happiness and peace?
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Additional resources for An Autograph For Anjali
Plastic birds, broken timepieces, toy cars made by Mattel. They lined them up along the top edge of the bingo tables and spread the cards out in front of them. I began calling. B 12. And then another and then another. And then I heard the complaining beginning. The curled bouffants bobbing up and down. Pecking at the numbers with their ink blotters. I was going too fast. They were grumbling and pecking and finally one called out, “What are you doing? You’re going to fast! ” I slowed down. N 36.
There was no cover for them. Two fires had broken out in the valley and they had already named them. The Moorpark and the Tierra Rejada. I liked Tierra Rejada better although some of the newscasters were having trouble saying it correctly. Ash was coming down in specks on the cars on Fairfax. The air was hot 58 / How to Get Into tHe twIn Palms and I knew if I kept the windows open my room would begin to smell like smoke at night. It happened every year during the Santa Anas. The fires. It made everyone crazy, wild-eyed, more so than even earthquakes.
Greystone Manor adjacent. The fires made the air ten degrees hotter. The Citibank thermometer said it was really 109 degrees. There was a faint buzzing in the air, quieter than the rumbling buses. But there I could hear it and walk toward it, toward low hanging branches, and I saw the flicks through the night. They were flying in a tornado formation. They kept me in the eye as I walked up Fairfax; past the people already lined up for a chance to get on The Price is Right. Some wore shirts that matched.
An Autograph For Anjali by Sundari Venkatraman
Categories: Contemporary Literature