Penguinindia Stories

*contest inside*

Contest Inside

As the women started to tremble, I just couldn't stop my legs to go and talk to her...,the saddened beauty,with big doe almond eyes, pink lips,looking innocent just like a new born. Peep into the story,to know about her sadness reason. Story for writing contest.

An entry for the contest #DigitalAMAwith Rheea

contest entry for inside a dark box

contest inside

rishab studying in oswal having a crush over his classmate thamanna who is beauty with brain of course . but being a shy and reserved type he couldn't gather much courage to talk with her more . he surely gotta talk with her for couple or more times but none of it extended than 2 minutes. Atlast he decided to have a proper friendly conversation with her. seeing her in corner hearing to her music in earphones , he neared her to gain her attention. when he asked what she was listening to, everyone except her turned to his side making him more nervous. but thamanna still sat there unaffected. (read inside to know what happens after )

*One of the winners of the contest.* This small part is written for #WishICouldTellYou writing contest.

Has the President gone missing in a newly formed Bermuda Triangle? What weird secret his Chief of Staff Ebby is going to find? The story is a submission entry to #ThePresidentIsMissing contest by #PenguinIndia.

Entry for #DigitalAMAwithRheaa

A birth which was far from being a miracle. A search which is so near yet far from attaining satisfaction. contest entry for Penguin India 'Digital AMA with Roshan'.

This is my entry for #DigitalAMAwithRheea for "The Body Myth" contest. Excerpt: * The woman was sitting on a park bench in West Point Gardens,where I came every sunday for a five- kilometer walk. She couldn't see me but I had to stop midstride to stare at her. I looked at her for three reasons. 1. Her face was twisted in contemplation; 2. She was wearing a beige kurta with a transparent golden dupatta; and 3. She was fucking gorgeous. I'm a woman who takes great pleasure in noticing other woman, in raw appreciation for our sex, but also as a comparative study. I could not,however take the time to asses her beauty. She was up to something strange. Her head darted behind and to the side. I was sure she was checking if anyone was looking at her. She was at the centre of a vast bamboo garden. No one else was in the garden. I was at the corner, out of her view. She looked back to the center, her facial muscles tweaked with confidence. She took a few deep breaths and stared to tremble. * Continued in the next chapter. I hope y'all like it. Thank you.

The end of episode sixteen - 'Radcliffe' didn't really provide the closure that we had wished for. Most of us have the view that it is over for Sartaj Singh and Mumbai. I beg to differ. So, all I ask you is one thing - 'Bhagwan ko mante ho?'

Contest Entry for 'The Body Myth' Challenge by Penguinindia. Excerpt : The woman was sitting on a park bench in West Point Gardens, where I came every Sunday for a five-kilometer walk. She couldn't see me, but I had stopped mid-stride to stare at her. I looked at her for three reasons: (1) her face was twisted in contemplation; (2) she was wearing a beige kurta with a transparent golden dupatta; and (3) she was fucking gorgeous. I am a woman who takes great pleasure in noticing other women, in raw appreciation for our sex, but also as a comparative study. I could not, however, take the time to assess her beauty. She was onto something strange. Her head darted behind and to the side; I was sure she was checking to see if anyone was looking at her. She was in the center of a vast bamboo garden. No one else was around. I was in the corner, out of her view. She looked back to the center, her facial muscles tweaked with confidence. She took a few deep breaths and started to tremble.

This is my entry for the #DigitalAMAwithRoshan contest of penguin India books.

The more she tremble, the more mysterious she looks... She is one perfect girl with all features... An apple shaped eyes with green shinning natural eyeballs... Shiny black hair adoring her shoulders.. perfect curves in needed place... Picturized jaw line which adds more sexy look to her face... She is damn one gorgeous piece ... God knows since when I was drooling over her... ####### Peep inside to know about that killing beauty... Story for writing contest ...

What would he do? Kill innocents... Or let the terrorists live? How can I kill seven children? You're not. You're killing two terrorists who are plotting their next slaughter of innocent civilians. Al-Fadhli's killing his children by hiding behind them. True, but that's semantics. It's my choice. They live or they die based on my choice. How do I meet my Maker one day and justify their deaths? It's not semantics. If you pass on this, you're rewarding them for their cowardly tactics. But that doesn't matter. Seven innocent children are what matters. Is that what the United States stands for? But why are those high-value terrorists meeting in person? That's never happened before. They must be planning something big. Something that will result in the deaths of more than seven children. Stop this now, you might stop an attack. A net saving of lives. I open my eyes. I take a deep breath, waiting for the drumming of my heart to slow. It doesn't. It speeds up. I know the answer.

entry for the #WishICouldTellYou contest

❝I'm trying to hope for the best.❞ (my entry for the digital AMA writing contest with roshan ali)