How can you define 'Luck'?

Have you ever considered a fact that some happenings in your life are strangely out of your control? Sometime, somewhere, we witness something that is beyond our human potential to understand and the final verdict we fall into is that we were 'lucky'! Is this what luck is all about? Or is it something beyond our apprehension to consider as a sign or a signal?
It is often said that whatever happens, happens for a reason. Then what could be the possible reason behind 'luck'? An answer no one bothered to find but every person has definitely questioned himself at least once in his life time.... How did it happen?
Believe me, I don't want to sound superstitious or stupid but there are many unseen uncanny things that surround our life and we don't have any evidence for their existence but deep inside, we have a subconscious belief of it's presence.
Most of us must have met or heard some incidents that make us look around for the scientific logic or any reason that could spare us the horror of the unknown. In this present century, we all have associated every happening with some scientific reasoning. But what would you call an incident when you suddenly find yourself unscratched among a disaster? Or when you were hit by a car and you survived without a scratch? Or a night your room was set on fire and you walked out of it unconscious? Or a glass dish that hit you but left you without any wound and broke carefully falling into pieces without piercing your skin?
Believe me, I have witnessed some of them while I was left stupefied in the run to look for a logic. If we work on the other side of the coin, there must be a world within that counterparts our own world. Someone who takes care of us in adversities! Like when a baby is born, it's fragility makes us wonder how could something so tiny make through the initial crucial stages of life. Their tiny limbs have to face the tremendous possibilities of life threatening situations in every step they take, still most of them come out perfectly fine. 
It is of course declared then that the child is 'lucky'! 
My question still persists that what is luck, by the way? Is it about something that's beyond our understanding? Or is it our destiny? Or is it about some unknown power that takes control and protects us? I'm sure each one of us have at least one incident to narrate that failed to declare any logic and you simply announced..... "I WAS LUCKY!"      

Chapter Eight: How does it feel when you lose the love of your life forever!!!!!!!

She saw her body lying there, wounded, torn, oozing in blood wrapped in his arms as if he could save her for himself.

She was dead!

This life had ended!

Her soul was free from the torture, agony and sorrow. She stood there staring at her dead corpse shuddering with the frightful experience of brutality that she had suffered in that life. Suddenly, a beam of light fell on her soul. It was as if the door opened, the door leading to another world where she belonged. Her soul blissfully spread the arms at the light and it cradled her lovingly and pulled her to it. Her spirit floated in the light and in a blink of an eye, the light vanished with her. As if, the door shut after she entered the other world.

 “You’ll be alright, my love. That devil is dead. Please get up.” He cradled her dead corpse and mumbled with tears flowing from his eyes. He kissed her forehead carefully.

  “Get up, Sophie, love.” He checked the pulse, but it had stopped for long.

“NO. You can’t leave me like this. We belong to each other. Please, love, for my sake. Please wake up. Please come back.” He was shaking nervously, crying like a baby.

Suddenly, he started yelling. “You cannot leave me like this. I am sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone. Don’t be so harsh, Sophie. Don’t go, please.” He cried hysterically shaking the dead body like a lunatic.

Suddenly he stopped mumbling. He carefully placed her body on the floor and sat still beside it, staring. I felt my heart beating ferociously. I looked at him. I wanted to console him, but I was just a spectator there. I was unable to touch him. After a while, he stood up and ran out from the house daring not to look back where laid dead the love of his life. He kept running aimlessly till he reached the heart of the woods that was densely dark and scary.

His legs shook with fatigue and treacherously stopped by itself making him stumble harshly on the thorny ground. He curled his body into a ball trying to catch hold of the pain that spread victoriously all over him, killing him steadily inside. He sobbed hysterically and screamed to let go of the agony but it stubbornly bore his serenity. 

Is it important for a writer to follow a set of rules to write a book?

Creativity is entirely a product of pure instincts and not by the set of guidelines!

 I could never plan before writing. It just comes to me as a spontaneous thought. All I have to do is to fall into the situation and the characters in my mind. Rest simply happens with the flow. Its precisely a feeling of meditating! You enter an altogether different world- a world that your creative mind and your thoughts have build with the people who you imagine to see or talk.

If ever I had bound myself to any kinds of rules and guidelines, the result had always been more of made up emotions and not something that could be said to be internal revelations of a heart. It's, in fact, a foolproof way to vent out your innermost feelings and design them to the most compassionate way so that it truly becomes a place where every reader finds their haven of thoughts. Maybe that's why some stories or books take us to a journey where we always wanted to be. It's an escapism for the writer as well as the reader who are bonded together in a common thought and get to feel similarly.
One of my readers ended up crying while reading a tragic scene from THE GIFTED ANALOGY. I think that was the greatest compliment any writer could get..... to make your reader feel exactly the same like you wanted them to feel!!

My thoughts are surely not bounded with any geographical strings. I preferred to design my own world. Like you can see I set up the story in a fictitious place called Angelston in my novel THE GIFTED ANALOGY which is likely to be a small town somewhere in Europe. My readers were surprised to know that such place doesn't exist and that no one has ever been there.
That's the beauty of art and creativity! A writer should possess the most important quality of expressing the waves of thoughts in the most beautiful way as if painting a picture!!

Why writing fantasy stories attracts writers more (including me)?

It is an often asked question why as a writer I don't write about the political issues or social issues? The answer is clear enough that don't we already have many newspapers and news channels to discuss about that? As a reader I had always picked up those books that offered me some time out, those that make me smile or laugh. Bothering the whole time about the world and people, etc., I started feeling an urge to find something to make me feel light and better. Something that is always missing in our day to day life.

Our lifestyles and behavioral actions have become so calculative and cold that sometimes we start feeling that what's the thing that's missing in our perfect life.

If we love someone, we want to be with him or her, but then what else to do? People have forgotten the ways to lure someone and make the person feel special. If it's the gift or expensive dinner that solves the purpose, then think again. It may do that temporarily, but unfortunately, it's forgotten soon before the next argument. Then due to low tolerance, we admit to ourselves that the person was not worth our efforts.

So, coming back to the topic, myths, legends and fantasies drive you to the other world where nothing is real. It works as a pleasant time out. Readers feel as if living in an altogether different world, an Escapism!
And when your mind is free and flying, you get better ideas.

Therefore, when I held my pen, I knew exactly what kind of genre would I prefer. As my story moved forward, I felt myself living in that dream. It was equal to meditating and relaxing your senses from the out world stress. I found a vent to release and shape my dreams into words and decorate it with my inner most feelings. It has turned out to be the most successful exercise to de stress my mind and make myself escape to a world that I had built exclusively for myself , the one that is perfect and less exhausting.

I'm sure many other writers who write fantasies have felt the same, living in their characters, forming their own situations, and dealing with them in their own perfect way. That is the beauty of myths and fantasies, although they are simple and pleasing, yet they teach you life's biggest lessons of how to deal with the crisis in an innocent way with a simple virtue you have in yourself. All we have to do is live with it and never give up!

So, I feel if I need to send a message, then I would prefer to locate it in a story that makes the message sound easy and every reader could associate it with themselves. Then fantasy could be counted as a good option because we all are the heroes of our own lives and we are the ones who can make the difference to ourselves.

The Gifted Analogy - A Teaser!!!

Chapter Seven: Is it betrayal or a long lost allurement??

“Why are you scared of me getting closer to you?” he didn’t wait for my answer and continued asking, “Are you afraid that Alec would come to know about it? Or is it your morals you are afraid to lose?”

I looked at him in utter shock. How could he be so straight forward? He was too courageous to speak his heart to me so effortlessly.

“I-I don’t know.” I spoke trying to soothe my heart beats.

“What if you are not losing anything in it? What if my love for you is as real as the sun?”

I couldn’t understand a single word of whatever he spoke. I thought he believed in it too much.

“Nothing can be as real as my marriage, my commitment.” I revealed. He gazed in my eyes, as if he was watching something beyond the irises. As if he was talking to my soul.

“There are some commitments beyond life itself, beyond body, beyond heart. Those are the commitments of the soul. Sophie. My soul belongs to you.”

Something inside me moved. I so desperately wished to hold him, to comfort him, to love him. His eyes, his face, his heart suddenly seemed mine. I felt as if my existence was indebted to him. I, all of a sudden, didn’t belong to myself any more. It was he who was holding my breaths, making my heart sing for him. I had tears rolling out of my eyes and fell on my cheeks. I closed my eyes. This was not my reality. I had to hold myself together; else my control would slip out of my hands.

How could I forget that far away someone was waiting for me? One mistake could ruin my marriage. My child would be deprived of healthy family relations. I could never be so selfish to surrender myself to temptations and cheat on my husband. Alec would never forgive me. Our relation would be shattered forever.

I looked at him helplessly.

“Sophie, don’t think so much. I love you. I want you to love me. Forget everything else.”

“No way. Stop trying to distract me. You are making things up. Please leave me alone.” The thought of Alec and our baby gave me inner strength to fight the moment off.

Outside, the storm was getting fiercer and louder. I was shivering in fear and due to my inner turmoil.

“Do you really think that by refusing, you can save yourself from the truth of our love?” his voice was getting more determined. “I am not like those who leave accepting a denial. I would follow you wherever you go. You would find me between you and Alec. Your relationship would not remain the same. The truth would find its way to him. You know well enough that Alec would not forgive a betrayal.”

I stood up and backed to the other side. He followed.

“No, you won’t. I would never let you enter my life.” I tried to act bravely. But his eyes were fixed on me, determined.

“As if you have the strength to stop me. Face the truth, Sophie, you love me. And I would go to any extend to save my love.”

Chapter Four: Is it that easy to trust someone with your life?

Fatigue and agitation had already taken over my saner side. My entire irritation and anger started boiling out.

“Why are you doing this?” I spoke agitated. “You had been following me since the day I met you. You are trying to give me gifts. Now you are standing here, requesting to drop me home yourself. Why are you being so generous towards me? I want to know what your intentions are, loud and clear.”

He simply stood there, facing me, composed and quiet. He just stared in my eyes. That was making me nervous, but I had to control my fear and get myself out of this mess.

“Why are you quiet now? Tell me what do you want? I barely know you and you too, don’t know me much. Why do you think I would take favors from you?” I continued yelling at him.

Still no response. I felt scared. He stepped closer and stared me with deep intensity.

“S-Stay w-where you are. Don’t come near me. I swear I’ll shout. W-What do you want from me?” I started stuttering nervously. My heart was pounding and I was breathing short swift breaths.

“You.” He said gravely.

A chill ran through my spine. Was it the cold breeze or his one monosyllabic word, that made me shiver badly.

“W-What are you talking?” I fought my tears. “I don’t understand anything.”

He smiled responsively and held my chin lightly with his forefinger and thumb, and whispered on my face, “I. want. You.” He spoke the words one by one, and continued, “I want to be with you. I love you.”

I shivered hearing those words. I was too confused to react. Why? How? Me? I didn’t know how to respond. I was so deeply perplexed that I couldn’t utter anything coherent. His gaze froze on mine that made me breathe heavily. All I could find the words to speak were, “no no no. There must be some misunderstanding.” I shook my head. “I’m married and have a child.”

“That does not matter to me.”  He whispered intensely.