SHADOWED PROMISE
From riots in Bombay to the riches of Beverly hills…
From riots in Bombay to the riches of Beverly hills…
by
Sunanda Chatterjee
Shadowed Promise
Review
This is the second book of Sunanda Chatterjee that I have read. I picked it up because I loved her book “Fighting for Tara”. This book too follows the same flow where the protagonist runs away from her troubles in India, hoping for a better life in the USA, yet the secrets of her past follow her.
In this book the author has taken up the issue that I am sure a lot of Indian girls face, that of being blamed for all the misfortune and tragedy that occurs around them, and being called ‘Noshter goda” or the root of destruction.
As the story takes us through Moyna’s journey to the point where she realises she is not to blame for all the misfortune in the world, it also highlights our desperate need for parental approval. This need makes us so ready to believe everything they say and colours everything we do, including our relationships.
The riots that occurred after the demolition of the Babri Masjid were described very realistically and brought back memories. One sentence really made sense. The author asks, ‘Who among them (the rioters) had visited or planned to visited the Babri masjid ? How many Hindus would go if the Ram mandir was built on the site?” She beautifully brings out how human emotions can be manipulated so that best of friends can become the worst of enemies in a jiffy.
Coming back to the story, the plot was good though there was no real suspense in it. The variety of characters in the story added to its charm and each character was well defined. The smaller stories within the main one make for an interesting read.
However, I did get a bit irritated with the constant talk of the protagonist being a source of bad luck. It got to be a tad too much and I was really relieved when she realised she wasn’t. There were some parts of the book which have been repeated in dialogues and arguments and the book could have done without that. But all in all it was quite a good book and I easily read it a second time.
Review
This is the second book of Sunanda Chatterjee that I have read. I picked it up because I loved her book “Fighting for Tara”. This book too follows the same flow where the protagonist runs away from her troubles in India, hoping for a better life in the USA, yet the secrets of her past follow her.
In this book the author has taken up the issue that I am sure a lot of Indian girls face, that of being blamed for all the misfortune and tragedy that occurs around them, and being called ‘Noshter goda” or the root of destruction.
As the story takes us through Moyna’s journey to the point where she realises she is not to blame for all the misfortune in the world, it also highlights our desperate need for parental approval. This need makes us so ready to believe everything they say and colours everything we do, including our relationships.
The riots that occurred after the demolition of the Babri Masjid were described very realistically and brought back memories. One sentence really made sense. The author asks, ‘Who among them (the rioters) had visited or planned to visited the Babri masjid ? How many Hindus would go if the Ram mandir was built on the site?” She beautifully brings out how human emotions can be manipulated so that best of friends can become the worst of enemies in a jiffy.
Coming back to the story, the plot was good though there was no real suspense in it. The variety of characters in the story added to its charm and each character was well defined. The smaller stories within the main one make for an interesting read.
However, I did get a bit irritated with the constant talk of the protagonist being a source of bad luck. It got to be a tad too much and I was really relieved when she realised she wasn’t. There were some parts of the book which have been repeated in dialogues and arguments and the book could have done without that. But all in all it was quite a good book and I easily read it a second time.
Blurb
Moyna’s cousin panted at the doorway, heavy with child. “Who did this to you?” her father shouted. And Moyna knew that somehow she would be blamed for this unspeakable shame on the family. Her aunt blamed her for all the tragedies, from the death of Moyna’s own parents to the riots in Bombay. But, as her cousin lay dying of stab wounds, Moyna promised to protect the baby.
In a panic, eighteen-year-old Moyna made a hasty decision that would return to haunt her years later.
Bullied as a child, Sameer wants to make the world a safer place. He has spurned a cushy career in his father’s law firm for public service. Sameer is drawn to the mysterious Moyna when they meet in Los Angeles. The attraction seems mutual, but Moyna remains cautious and secretive about her past, insulating herself from love to protect others from her unlucky curse.
At the cusp of political victory, Sameer faces increasing gun violence and death threats leading to an FBI investigation. But his greatest challenge comes when a shadow from Moyna’s past threatens to destroy their future.
What hope do they have with the media hungering for a scandal?
A story of friendship, redemption, and forgiveness, “Shadowed Promise” is a journey from blind faith to triumphant love.
Read an excerpt of #SP here:
Sameer chased after Moyna as she opened the side-door to the stairwell. When the door nearly swung shut, he stuck in his foot and opened it again. She had already reached the landing, so he took the stairs two at a time. “Moyna, I wanted to say congratulations!”
Her face glowed in the cardinal and gold graduation gown. A low pony swung below the cap, the tassels of which hung at her cheek. She looked happy. She smiled at him, for a moment, without holding back. Her smile was dazzling in its brilliance. Why didn’t she smile more?
She said, “Was that all you wanted?”
He grinned. You have no idea what I want! “I was thinking… now that you’ve graduated, maybe we can take this to the next level.”
She stared at him. “Sameer, I have a lot of baggage. There are things about my past… I can never tell you.”
“I don’t care about the past. I want to know if there’s any hope of a future for us.”
She sighed, a sorrowful, regretful sigh that turned his heart cold, as if she had slapped him on his face. She would never let him into her heart. But she said, “You’ll never be satisfied with what I can offer.”
You’ve offered me nothing before! He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “As long as you’re giving me all you can offer. Moyna, you have no idea what you make me feel. Just be with me. With time, you’ll trust me enough to let me into that wonderful heart of yours.”
She stared with those hypnotic eyes. Her lip trembled a little. And he had no doubt she felt the same way. He drew her closer, held her face, and pressed his lips to hers, as her cap fell to the floor.
Her lips felt petal soft against his, her arms on his back felt like chains from which he never wanted freedom. His hands roved over her neck and back and came to rest on her hips. The smell of her perfume, her breath, the feel of her skin against his, intoxicated him.
Above and below them, footsteps of students echoed in the stairwell. He hungered for breath, but couldn’t let go. She seemed to melt in his arms as she clung to him, teasing his hair, and raking his back.
When she pulled away, he wondered what year it was.
She was panting.
He watched his reflection dance in her eyes and it felt so right. That’s all he wanted. Her image in his eyes, and his in hers. Nothing else mattered. “I … I think I’m in love with you.”
He felt her stiffen as she took a step back. Did I say something wrong? Her expression was inexplicable. Her lips trembled, her eyes moistened, and it seemed that every fiber of her body wanted to be with him.
And yet he heard her saying, “I can’t do this!” She turned away and darted down the corridor toward her room.
He chased after her and grabbed her wrist. “I don’t understand. Is there someone else?”
She whirled around to face him, eyes wild with panic. “What? Yes. Yes, there’s someone else!”
She tried to wrench her hand free, but he tightened his grip. “Who? Karan? How come I’ve never met him?”
She stopped struggling. “You’ll never understand. Please, Sameer, I can’t be with you. Walk away from me. For your own good. It’s best for both of us.”
“I don’t believe it.” He jabbed his finger at the stairwell. “Just a minute ago you were kissing me. Tell me it meant nothing to you!”
“Stop!”
He saw a sparkle of tears in her eyes and his face softened. “Moyna, look into my eyes and tell me you don’t love me.”
She didn’t say anything. He wrapped her into a powerful embrace and kissed her, tasting the tears on her cheeks. He shivered as her hands snaked below his arms and ran up his back, hooking around his shoulders; she clung to him, and their bodies molded into each other.
He felt the warmth of her breath, her skin, and her flesh, and knew he never wanted to be with anyone else. After a moment’s hesitation, she kissed him back, sending his head spinning.
He lifted her off her feet with ease and pinned her against the wall. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nipped at his lips, as his hand found her breast. Control was out of the question. The fire of that raw desire burnt any logic he had left. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
And then she struggled out of his embrace. A sharp pain pierced through his numbed consciousness when she stamped on his shoe with her three inch heel. He winced and hopped on one foot.
Panting, she glared at him and scrubbed her mouth. Then she pushed against him with both her hands, her eyes brimming with angry tears. “You arrogant, presumptuous, selfish bastard! Just because you’ve never been refused anything in your life, you think you can go about taking what’s not yours.”
Confused, he frowned and took a step toward her as she backed into the wall. “But you’re mine, Moyna!”
She gave a scornful laugh. “Your wealth means nothing to me. Your beauty means nothing to me. You’ll never be like Karan. Karan was brave, noble and selfless. You’re nothing!”
Sameer stepped back, his mind in turmoil. She hates me. Her dalliance with him had been a farce. The last three years had been a lie. He rubbed his forehead, stunned. “Wh…”
She yelled in a shaking voice, “Do you hear me? You mean nothing to me! Leave me alone.”
He clenched his fists, turned on his heel, and walked away, his steps booming in the quiet corridor, as his future with her vanished into oblivion.
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About the author
Freelance author, blogger, and ex-Indian Air Force physician Sunanda Joshi Chatterjee completed her graduate studies in Los Angeles, where she is a practicing pathologist. While medicine is her profession, writing is her passion. When she’s not at the microscope making diagnoses, she loves to write fiction. Her life experiences have taught her that no matter how different people are, their desires, fears, and challenges remain the same.
Her themes include romantic sagas, family dramas, immigrant experience, women’s issues, medicine, and spirituality. She loves extraordinary love stories and heartwarming tales of duty and passion. Her short stories have appeared in short-story.net and induswomanwriting.com.
She grew up in Bhilai, India, and lives in Arcadia, California with her husband and two wonderful children. In her free time, she paints, reads, sings, goes on long walks, and binge-watches TV crime dramas.
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