The Secret Wishlist by Preeti Shenoy is a story of a woman, who wants to do a lot of things, but feels clipped because of bond in marriage life. The secret bestthing.info - Free download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read online for free. Editorial Reviews. Review. Excellent story telling skills --The Times of India. About the Author. Preeti Shenoy is among the highest-selling authors in India and.
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The Secret Wish List book. Read reviews from the world's largest community for readers. Does true love really exist or is it just a cliche? Can a sin. Urged by a twist of events, a wish list is born. But can a wish list help her piece back her life together? Will she succumb to the tangled mess of an extramarital. the secret wish list ebook free download. The Secret Wish List Ebook Free Download. 27 Reads 0 Votes 1 Part Story. paytrogcorda By paytrogcorda Ongoing.
Not Enabled Word Wise: Enabled Lending: Not Enabled Screen Reader: Supported Enhanced Typesetting: Enabled site Best Sellers Rank: Can a single kiss really change your life? At sixteen, Diksha like any girl her age, finds her life revolving around school, boys and endless hours of fun with her best friend. But one day, all that changes.
What starts as an innocent crush explodes into something far beyond her control. Eighteen years later, she finds herself at the crossroads of life. Urged by a twist of events, a wish list is born. But can a wish list help her piece back her life together? Will she succumb to the tangled mess of an extramarital relationship?
Once again, Preeti Shenoy brings an extraordinary story that tugs at the heartstrings, with insight and wisdom, as she explores the delicate matters of the heart.
The Secret Wish List is a captivating, engrossing,racy tale about following your heart, chasing your dreams and the meaning of friendship. Read more Read less. Enabled Enhanced Typesetting: Enabled Page Flip: Enabled Audible book: Audible book Switch back and forth between reading the site book and listening to the Audible book with Whispersync for Voice.
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Bekah Clark. Kim Law. Sariah Wilson. Terri Osburn. Not Enabled. Would you like to tell us about a lower price? Share your thoughts with other customers. Write a customer review. Showing of 9 reviews. Top Reviews Most recent Top Reviews. There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later. Paperback Verified download. An excellent and quick read - one day. I really love books on the cultural aspects in novels about India. This is a new author to me, recommended by Renita d'Silva and I will download more of her books.
The book was fast moving and realistic to the situation of the women in conservative India. One one scene I didn't feel was realistic to a conservative woman, even though she was breaking out of that, but don't want to spoil the plot.
And now that the possibility of reconnecting with him has been presented to me on a platter, it makes me intensely restless. It is as though someone has poured a can of gasoline to the already blazing fire and turmoil within my heart. Somewhere at the back of my mind, warning bells are clanging, but their sounds are very feeble, almost muffled. The voice of my heart is too darn loud. When you cannot get someone out of your head for eighteen years, it has to be true love.
I guess when you are sixteen and in the throes of adolescent crushes each of which you are convinced is the real thing, with feelings that chug at the speed of a locomotive, with an intensity just as strong , minor things like being drenched in sweat do not affect you as much as they do when you are an adult. You are enthusiastic, full of life and you believe that the world is yours to conquer.
I cycle back home after my Bharathanatyam classes which are thrice a week. I do not much like this difficult South Indian dance form, but Mother insists I learn it. I would much rather prefer Bollywood dancing or even ballet to this. Look, now that your Papa is posted here, you should make use of every opportunity available to you here, says Mother. Tamil Nadu is truly the cultural hub of India.
You will never get such accomplished Bharathanatyam teachers elsewhere. So you might as well make the best use of it, she argues.
It has been a year now since we moved from Pune to Chennai. I did not like Chennai initially, but once I got used to the heat, I realised it was as good a place as any, even Pune.
In fact, the co-ed school I attend here is far better than the convent I used to go to in Pune. But I will never admit this to my parents. Some things are best not revealed.
When I suggest, very timidly, to Mother that I want to take up Bollywood dancing, her reaction is far worse than expected. She shouts and raves and promptly calls up her sister who lives with my grandmother in Ernakulam. Both take turns to admonish and lecture me about how great our Indian tradition is and how hard it is to master the Indian classical dances. They go on about how far superior Bharathanatyam is to Bollywood dancing which is crass and crude, only about shaking your booty and wiggling your hips.
Like all the western dances which, according to my mother, aunt and grandmother, any fool can do. Good Lord! What are you saying, Diksha? How can you even talk about the two in the same breath? Where is Bollywood and where is Bharathanatyam?
Meera Mausi yells so loudly on the phone that I have to hold the receiver away from my ear.
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I stifle a giggle at her hysteria, but she catches on. Is that a giggle I hear? You shameless girl. What is so funny? Meera Mausi, I just pictured you as Goddess Durga, I say amidst helpless giggles now, whereupon she quickly changes tracks sensing that being so far away, she cannot do anything and that her anger is not having the desired effect. Her tone becomes gentle and persuasive. She tries to explain the dedication and discipline involved in classical dancing, and that I am fortunate to get admission in Natya Kesari Dance Academy, run by the renowned, Padma Shree awardee, Mrs Subhalaksmi.
Finally, under the weight of their collective persuasion, I agree and now find myself waiting for the dance class to get over so I can cycle home leisurely along Elliots Beach, watching the waves as I do. I love this part of Chennai where we live. Besant Nagar faces the beach and I enjoy the tiny garden which our modest middle class home boasts. I cannot help thinking how unfair it is that my brother, Rohan, is never forced into doing things he doesnt want to. A year older than me, he is the school captain and is on the school debate team.
I think my parents are very proud of him and never miss an opportunity to mention his achievements to anyone who visits us. Being a popular boy, his friends come over to our place often. They lock themselves in his room for hours and plan and prepare for all the upcoming school functions like plays, debates and dumb charades. They are an active bunch, very involved in the interschool cultural scene and have won many laurels for the school.
Somehow our home has turned into their hub, probably as Mother is friendlier and sweeter to our friends than most other parents of teenagers.
At least they are sitting indoors,doing useful stuff, right under your eyes and not loitering about and wasting time, Meera Mausi had commented to my mother when these meetings had first started. My mother had nodded approvingly. So far as I am concerned vis-a-vis my brothers friends, I merely say a hello to them when they arrive and a bye when they leave. That is the extent of my interaction with them. I am a junior at school and the senior guys do not really talk to juniors unless they are cool, and I have not yet qualified to gain entry into this category.
Sometimes Mother asks me to make chai for them and when I take the tea tray to his room, Rohan opens the door, takes it from me and shuts it again. In those brief seconds, I catch a glimpse of his friends. Some are sprawled on the floor, some having animated discussions, some practicing their lines. My best friend and classmate, Tanu, thinks I am very fortunate to have access to the senior boys.
I so wish I had an elder brother, Diksha. You are so lucky! How cool is it that these guys hang out at your place.
Its no big deal, Tanu, I hardly interact with them, I say, but that does not convince her. Ankit Uttam is one of my brothers many friends. Tanu and I would have never dared speak to a senior, that too someone as cool as Ankit, but for a blue canvas satchel with two large buckle-down flaps in the front and a red-piped border. The bag is what set the whole thing in motion. One evening, I find this satchel lying by a pot in the foyer at the entrance of our home.
I do not remember leaving it there and so I carry it into my room, a little puzzled by its odd placement. Tanu is with me as we meet most days under the pretext of combined studies.
In reality, we just giggle, talk, gossip and, occasionally, try to study. Ankit and my brother, Rohan, emerge after an hour or so from his room. They start frantically hunting for Ankits bag. It does not strike me that the bag I carried in to my bedroom could be his. It doesnt even occur to me that his satchel is exactly like the one I have. I bought mine, choosing it with great care to project just the right amount of coolness and nonchalance so important at that age.
And so Tanu and I help them look. We search for at least a quarter of an hour. We look in the hall, in all the possible places in Rohans room, in the dining area and even in the kitchen. How can a bag vanish into thin air? And God! We have a Bio test tomorrow and I so need my notes, he grumbles. Dude, we have wasted enough time looking for your bag. I tell you what, lets study together and then you go home, suggests the very practical Rohan. Ankit agrees that it is the best they can do and both return to Rohans room.
Tanu and I go to my room, still wondering about the missing bag. Maybe he left it outside your house and the kachrawala cleared it away thinking it was garbage, giggles Tanu. Shut up, I say, but with a smile. Then I open my bag and out tumble Ankits books.
It takes us a few surprised seconds to comprehend what has happened. And then the penny drops. Tanu cackles with excitement. Quick, lets look at his handwriting, she hisses. No way. We cant do that. Lets go and return it, I whisper back equally fiercely.
We will never get a chance like this. Come on, she insists. Finally we take a quick peep, our teenage excitement peaking an all-time high at the prospect of checking out a cool guys stuff, something we would never have had access to but for the serendipitous confusion. We riffle through notebooks covered with his neat handwriting and are amused to see the doodles on the back of the book. Then we shut it hurriedly, giggling away.
Tanu says, Hey, I have an idea! Lets scribble a message for him. Are you crazy? I say, shocked by her audacious suggestion. Rohan will kill me if he finds out. We cant just scribble in someones book. Cmon, Diksha. Youre such a scaredy cat. Here, give it to me. Tanu snatches the book from my hand and, before I can stop her, opens the last page and begins writing.
I watch in fascinated horror as she writes. Hey, Ankit. I really, really, really like you. I follow every football match you play, and watch every debate you take part in. Whenever youre around I cant take my eyes off you. I think you are really cool and, let me be honest, I am a smitten-kitten. I wont tell you my name. If you figure out who this is, call me.
I know you are smart enough to figure out my name and my number. I will be waiting. She then makes a heart and adds some flowers. I gasp at her boldness. Oh my God! How can you write stuff like this? I am shocked at what she has done. With a blue pen, by forming one letter after another, she says cheekily. I shake my head and suggest we tear out the page.
But Tanu will hear none of it. Look, how can you write something so outrageous? What is so outrageous, Diksha? I do really, really like him. Gosh, he is gorgeous!
And this is a godsend opportunity to tell him how I feel. Then tell him to his face. Dont write anonymous notes. Noooo way! Tell him to his face?
What if he laughs at me? I know she is right. How can she walk up to a guy and admit she is crazy about him? I too have a secret crush on him which I have never admitted to Tanu. Were both probably in love with the same guy. The difference is that she is ready to admit it while I have suppressed it and pushed it aside as though it doesnt exist.
Finally, I give in to her demand and put Ankits book back into his bag. After which, I rush to my brothers room and knock. His tone is curt. I found Ankits bag, I say, feeling a bit sheepish.
In a trice, Ankit is out. That is amazing! Where did you find it? I blush. Actually it is exactly like mine. I am so sorry, I took it thinking it was mine, I say. Then I show him my bag to prove the point. Ankit laughs heartily and Rohan joins in.
Hey, its okay. I am so glad to have it back, I could hug you! You know, it seems we have the same great taste, he says. Tanu looks at me and mouths, Wish hed said that to me, and I quickly look away. That afternoon, we have no idea what lies in store for us in the future. No idea whatsoever how a little joke played so casually will change our entire lives.
No clue that we have sowed the seeds for a lifetime of deception and falsehood, woven a web so entangled that even an entire lifetime will not suffice to sort it out. I glance at the clock. He has woken up ten minutes before than his usual time. Making it. The waters just beginning to boil, I yell back, suppressing a twinge of irritation. In the fifteen years that we have been married, not once has he made coffee for me.
I suppose I must have found it cute, in the early years of marriage, how lost he was in the kitchen. Then the starryeyed new bride I was, I would gladly make coffee for him which he would sip reclining in an easy chair on the balcony with his newspaper. I would, in the meantime, cook breakfast, lay out his clothes for office neatly on the bed while he showered, and pack his lunch for office.
Once he emerged from the bedroom in his formal clothes, I would rush to make him a toast or a dosa or something hot and fresh for breakfast. He would hurriedly wolf it down, praising my culinary skills and I would eagerly lap up the praise. He never asked me to join him. And in the early days, I did not mind it the least bit. As I would watch him eat, my heart would fill with pride at a meal well-prepared and my wifely duty of feeding my husband, done to perfection. He would then leave and I would have my breakfast, alone.
The pattern that a couple inadvertently sets in the early years of marriage continues even later, unless a conscious effort is made to change it. That never happened in our case. And so, to this day, he and our nine-year-old son, Abhay, eat together and leave. I always eat later. The praise has stopped though. He does not utter even one word in appreciation these days. I have grown up watching my mother be the dutiful wife and, until recently, I did not even mind being one.
But, of late, irritation has begun mounting and not knowing how to deal with it, I deal with it by suppressing it. I know for a fact that it started after my cousin, Vibhas, visit. When Vibha, who lives in Hyderabad, visits Bangalore for company projects, she stays with us for a week or so, and has observed this routine several times.
When Sandeep and Abhay leave, she says, Diksha, which century are you living in, girl? Look at what you have turned into. You have totally metamorphosed into a maidservant and cook. Shut up, Vibha. I dont have a high-flying job like you, where your company sends you on fancy trips and all. I am just a housewife, and has it ever occurred to you that I like making hot food for Abhay and Sandeep?
I counter her observation, not willing to acknowledge it. I brush aside her remarks as if they are of no consequence, but deep down I know her words have found their mark. They rankle inside me now like the chains of a prisoner in medieval times who yearns to break free. She has voiced something that I have dared not admit even to myself and her words hang in the air like gloomy mist.
Everything that I look at now is tinted with this greyness that had begun to gnaw at my insides. Look, Diksha. So what if you are a housewife? That doesnt mean Sandeep cant make a cup of coffee for you! I have seen how much work you put into making their lives smooth. But what about you? You deserve more, girl.
You never get to go out. Your mother-in-law being in the same town doesnt. What kind of life is that? Vibha, I am happy. I am happy that my mother-in-law lives close by and we get to visit her. Abhay loves spending time with her. Not everyone is like you. I dont have to get Sandeep to make coffee for me in the name of womens lib or whatever. He earns well, he provides us with material comfort and so it is indeed okay if I am the one taking care of cooking and everything else.
I dont know why I am so stubborn in defending my life. Diksha, dont you long for anything more? Are you really happy? Dont you want to go out with your girlfriends, do things for yourself, have some fun?
Her tone changes into concern as she searches my face for answers. I cannot bear her eyes boring into mine. Of course, I long to go out. I truly do not want to spend every single weekend visiting Sandeeps mother who lives less than two kilometres away. But it has become such a routine now that I cannot even think of spending weekends any other way.
When I had first suggested going out somewhere nice in the early years of marriage, Sandeep had glared at me like I had said I wanted to separate him from his mother. He had reminded me of the time his mother had selflessly helped look after Abhay when he was born.
Sandeep never ceased to remind me that my parents hadnt done much by way of being there for us. I had tried telling him that it was only because my mother had fallen seriously ill at the time of Abhays birth. She had to have a hysterectomy. She had been operated upon and the surgeon had discovered a lump that needed to be removed. There were other complications as well. Then she had been on bed-rest for nearly six whole months.
Else, she would have definitely helped. But when I had explained all that to Sandeep, he had just said, Bah. What counts is who did the job ultimately. How can I tell Vibha all this? How can I admit to her that, yes,I feel trapped with Sandeep. That I long for a better life. The truth of Vibhas words hammers into my brain, hitting me right where it hurts. But I still do not want her to see my pain. After all, she is leading the life she wants.
She has a job she enjoys, has good help at home, is independent and smart, everything I am not. So I turn away and busy myself doing the dishes. We sit in silence, both of us very well aware that the words she uttered are true.
I am not entirely happy in my marriage. But I have made peace with my situation and I do not know how to change it. Sandeep is not a bad guy, after all. These days, however, it feels as though I have to constantly remind myself that. Fifteen years of marriage and motherhood have changed me as a person.
I go quiet as I contemplate. The awkward silence between us now embarrasses Vibha. Hey, Diksha. I think I said too much.
I know no marriage is perfect. Mine certainly isnt. Mohan constantly complains that I do not have time for him or Monu. Look, I am really sorry to have poked my nose into your affairs. I should first set my marriage right. I havent done any of the things that Mohan wants us to do together as a family.
It is always work and more work for me. Then I come here and see such a contrast in your life and I just couldnt help telling you what I felt. I should have kept quiet.
I am sorry. She is now contrite at having spoken her mind. No, Vibha, it is fine. You are lucky to lead the life you want. And I know it is only concern for me that made you say those things. And hey, youre my sis. How can you not be honest with me? I am glad you spoke out. I have been in denial about it, I finally admit.
And I mean it. After Vibha leaves, I find myself increasingly thinking about her words.
The Secret Wishlist – Preeti Shenoy
The emptiness of my life has begun to gnaw at me, eating me up from inside. Of course, Vibha is right.
I have, over the years, slowly but surely turned into a maidservant and cook.
Sandeep and Abhay do take me for granted. But the fact is, that a part of me feels useful too, doing all this. It gives me a sense of purpose, a sense of doing something, as though justifying my existence. But, for the first time in my life, I have begun thinking about where my life is going. Perhaps the fact that I will turn thirty-five in a few months adds to my increasingly contemplative state.
I guess most people take stock of where they are going when they get older, dont they? It is only two weeks later though that I finally call up Vibha. Hey Vibs, you got some time to talk? I ask. She is a busy person, in a demanding job.
The secret wishlist.pdf
As a mid-management level employee in a pharmaceutical company, she has to travel a lot. That is why I never call her during the day.
If I have to speak to her, I call on weekends or at night. Vibha is the closest thing I have to a sister and I feel fortunate to have this bond with her. We have spent many summer vacations together in our maternal grandparents village in Kerala. Our mothers would bundle us off to the ancestral house and, for two whole months, we would laze around, pick raw mangoes from the tree and eat them with salt and chilli powder, play games, go swimming in the river nearby, play pranks on each other, fight, make up and forge bonds and create memories that we now cherish in our adult years.
Vibha had got married long after I had. She had a child much later than I did and went promptly back to work soon as the baby turned three months old. Of course, her in-laws moved in with her and the arrangement suited everyone.
The Secret Wish List
I sometimes envy her lifestyle, her career and how she has everything together. In comparison, I feel as though I am wasting my life.
Her words have added to my increasing sense of despondency and today is one of those days when I just have to speak to her, to sort out the chugging train of thoughts in my head that refuses to slow down. Of course, Diksha, give me ten minutes.
I am reading to Monu. I will tuck her in bed and call you. I am clearing the kitchen when she calls back.
Abhay has been tucked in bed a long time back and Sandeep has plonked himself in front of the television, his usual unvarying routine on almost all days. What happened, Dikku, all well? I know I can tell her anything. She is the closest I will ever come to having a sister. I know I can never discuss things like this with my brother. Hello, Diksha? All well? Can you hear me?
I take a while to answer. I really do not know how to say it, or what purpose this discussion will serve.
All I know is that things seem unbearable and I need to speak to her. Vibha, I have been thinking. You were right that day when you said my life is empty, I reply. Hey, come on, Diksha. Thats really not what I meant, she corrects me. I pause again. I am unable to articulate what I feel.
I know what you meant. See, the fact is that there is indeed a growing discontent in me. I know I am only fooling myself by pretending to be extremely happy cooking and caring for Sandeep and Abhay, but there has to be more to life than that.
I feel worthless, Vibha. I really do, I finally say, the words tumbling out. The bitterness in my voice and the things I have just expressed take me by surprise, as though it is not me, but a stranger, talking. Hey Diksha, things are not so bad. You do look after the house and keep it well.
Why, your house is ten times more efficiently managed than mine. You know how much my mother-in-law helps me, Vibha tries to placate me.
But I am in no mood to be consoled. She only helps you look after Monu while you are at work. Isnt it you who decides everything in the house including whom to hire as house-help? Isnt it you and Mohan who have done up the house. Isnt it you who has decided that Monu is better off in a playschool than being at home with your mother-in-law? Come on, Vibs, you run the show there. Dont give me crap and try to make me feel better.
Vibha knows all that I have said is true. Look, Diksha, you are right, I admit. But hey, why are you suddenly comparing your life to mine? Look, I truly am sorry for all those remarks I made. Your friend will never judge you. You may not speak for days, weeks, or in the case of this book, years on end but when you do, you will catch up like there has been no break in between.
That is the true test of friendship. I was left wondering at the end what would have happened if Diksha had been in a happy marriage and Ankit had re-entered her life. Maybe, Preeti could re-write the book with a different ending: Like I mentioned at the beginning — I won this book in a contest organized by Preeti.
And the post I wrote for that contest http: Dec 24, Khushboo Sharma rated it it was ok. I have read author in her blogs which is spontaneous, simple and to the point. I like it. And this is the first book I read. A secret hidden buried deep down in teenager heart, layered on top of the society and family roles responsibility and expectations.
Diksha , the protagonist is at first a common teenage girl, who seeks usual experience of life and as she grows being woman she seeks usual acknowledgement of her existence.
A purpose is what Indian woman gets missed out by enlarge due to society and not many start up for it, that theme is essence of the story. We see many around us like that, we consult such women too.
Diksha is one such girl who is trapped, it takes her 15 long years to realize and break her shackles. Plot has all points covered which leads her to decide and gather courage to change the course of her life but I just found it coming while reading whereby my surprise elements were dying as I read on. Also, as much as emotional and sensitive the story line is, the emotions and moments of characters are rushed.
It is indeed good and quick read with inspiration point in it but if you are looking forward to read classic storytelling is a step away. My take from the book I did pen down my Wish List and so it was worth a read. View all 3 comments. Mar 14, Kamala rated it it was ok. This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here. Found this book more than a little disappointing. I'd expected depth and a little less predictability.
Instead, it reinforced the cliche that a woman can't survive without a man by her side. I did think that the author's understanding of a housewife's low self-esteem and the enormous guilt that she has when she tries to do even the smallest things for herself was good, but the storyline seemed just way too convenient--like one of Karan Johar's candy floss hindi movies.
The protagonist walks away Found this book more than a little disappointing. The protagonist walks away from a fifteen year-old marriage into the arms of her childhood sweetheart. He is unattached, handsome, rich--a Mills and Boons type chocolate box hero who still loves her desperately and not only accepts but bonds with her nine-year old son. She's slim, looks just like she did as a teenager and is sufficiently ruffled by her husband's uncaring ways to call it quits.
The transition is smooth and everything is hunky-dory and curiously enough, her mother-in-law is supportive of the arrangement, especially when the son she's left happens to be an only child! Now that doesn't seem like a story--it's an impossible fairy tale! The language veered too much towards the colloquial with words like 'darn' and tired phrases like 'done deal' thrown in for good measure. And since the editor in me never switches off, the typos and the grammatical errors that are peppered liberally through the book gave me the shudders.
But I guess if you're looking for very light reading, you might like this one. May 16, D rated it really liked it. Finished reading it within 2 days. Overall a good read. You'd be able to relate to the character in the form of people you come across occasionally or it can be one of your friends.
There are men like Sandeep who exist and take things for granted and then there are women like Diksha who are really scared of their husbands. So scared that they can't even talk to them about their interests or things they'd like to do. Society has set a pattern for a woman to live like this for the rest of their li Finished reading it within 2 days. Society has set a pattern for a woman to live like this for the rest of their lives.
Don't think or do anything that makes you feel happy. Its weird and even depressing but then we are taught to adjust so we do and accept that this is our fate and pretend to be happy with what we have and then life throws a question asking things you don't have answers to.
You have a life, don't forget to live for yourself. Its perfectly fine to be selfish and think about things that make you happy. Make a wish list and start working on it because its your life. So want to write a long review but need sometime for that. I might write a blog post on this one. Mar 06, Ananya Dhawan rated it really liked it. The story oozes innocence. I especially like the way Mrs. Shenoy has taken in consideration each subtle aspect of human emotion. May 20, Soumyabrata Gupta rated it liked it.
Coming from a traditional middle-class family, Diksha finds her life taking a turn for the worst when a harmless kiss with a senior from school, lands her in trouble.
Her life gets shattered as she is withdrawn from the institution by her parents and a series of chaperoning ensues until she is married off to the suitable boy Sandeep at only 19 years of age. A conversation with a depressed cousin Vibha, who has just lost her husband Mohan, however, soon forces her to take some life altering decisions when she realises that she has every right to live life according to her own wishes as well. Out of their conversation is born a secret wishlist and while a bit hesitant at first, Diksha soon finds herself spiraling into a world that she is less familiar with as she tries to find her own footing and her own individual identity amidst all the chaos..
From drinking booze, to joining a salsa class as Diksha plunges deeper into her own world, she finds herself regretting her marriage with each passing day and the entry of her once childhood crush Ankit the boy she was caught kissing , soon culminates into an extra-marital relationship and her taking a decision that she never thought she had the courage to make.
A little bit of spice and love in her life only serves to make her resolve that much stronger. As appearing in The Bengal Post newspaper on March 3, May 02, Afshan Khan rated it it was ok. I finished the book in 4 days. I took so long as frankly it didn't keep me glued to it. Unlike other books by Preeti Shenoy I have to say this one is boring , monotonous and repetitive. Opening of the book is good where school days are described.
Story oscillates between present and past. The narration takes you back to school grounds and the teenage infatuations but after that I was just waiting for the end. I knew the end but had to finish it as I wanted to see if there is a twist!
I would lov I finished the book in 4 days. I would love to see a damsel not in distress the next time she writes a book. Its always a troubled woman who ultimately becomes strong and faces the world. The protagonist Diksha is trapped in her married life and is seeking peace and real happiness.
You feel connected to her but the way the events turn out its much more like a movie to me. The moment the book becomes a movie I lose interest. Every thing happens like she wants all of a sudden and her romance blooms which in real life is actually tough.
The circumstances and the chances are co operative and she again finds her old love. Frankly too many lines were repetitive. After meeting her teenage love Ankit she keeps on saying the same things all over again. I know it happens in love but to read it in book was a bit boring! Few characters got dissolved in the mid.
I thought there is some thing more to the character Vibha who is Diksha's cousin. Compared to the previous books this definitely was not up to the mark.
It is like reading a similar story again. I loved Life is what you make it and felt Tea for two and a piece of cake was OK! This book is a time pass read and as it is the fourth book may be I expected a lot.
I was expecting a story where lead roles would be doing all adventurous things in the wish list and not a woman oriented book where there are relationship or marital problems again.
Few bits I liked are the Salsa and the details, the mother in law who seemed extremely understanding and sweet. Such characters again are rare species in real life. I mean there are mothers who support even rapist sons so I don't think a mother in-law will support a daughter in-law immediately if she wants to walk out of a marriage. I liked the way places and localities are described. I liked the concept of writing down a secret wish list and ya I loved the cover page which lead to my great expectations.
Anannya Subramanian there are many first time authors who write good stories Feb 18, Jan 01, Shyam Sundar rated it really liked it Shelves: Dhiksha - the protagonist , was married to an idiot at her early age of 19!
Feb 05, Saloni Chaudhary rated it did not like it. Sometimes I read below average books to understand what a reader will not like. Now I know. Mar 25, Sarika Singh rated it really liked it Shelves: This is one of the book, I was looking to read since Long time. Thanks to Preeti Shenoy for good book. Superb book loved it much. I have not disappointed. Excellent narration from a women's point of view. Must read! Jun 29, Vijay Karthikeyan Srinivasan rated it really liked it.
Oh, my God! It's mind changing for me, personally! This book is a must read everyone, especially for the ones who are still conservative. I was taken aback by the beliefs I had.
It's a story about a conserved woman who, when realizes her pathetic situation like to live life as per her wish. But, she got stuck in her daily chores and with his very old-fashioned husband who always never appreciate her efforts. It's the transformation of a conserved woman into an independent and confident woman.
I lo Oh, my God! I loved reading the book. It really changed my view about women. I should thank Preeti Shenoy for the beautiful work she has done! Beautifully written The narration is remarkable. It makes you read the complete book in one breath. An Indian, Bangalore based story of a typical Indian girl. I am sure most of us would have seen this character at least once in our life's. Women who keep living their lifes taking care of their husbands and kids when they are getting no care in return.
Society believes it is the girls duty to remain door mats. This book just reminded that the society needs to change a lot. Parents need to believe Beautifully written The narration is remarkable. Parents need to believe their daughters too. Yes I truly loved it. In short, a simple but elegant book. Feb 01, Abhilash Ruhela rated it really liked it. Some times, time does not favour and you get stuck in reading a book that could have got completed in just hours.
This book was bought for my friend to gift it to her on Birth day but later I decided to keep it for myself. The authoress Preeti Shenoy who has written yet another amazing story needs no introduction. But there's something very funny and amusing about her journey as a writer is the shuffling of Publ Some times, time does not favour and you get stuck in reading a book that could have got completed in just hours.
But there's something very funny and amusing about her journey as a writer is the shuffling of Publishers every time she comes up with a new book. Coming to the story of "The Secret Wish List"- At sixteen, Diksha like any girl her age, finds her life revolving around school, boys and endless hours of fun with her best friend.
The Secret Wish List is a captivating, engrossing, racy tale about following your heart, chasing your dreams and the meaning of friendship. To know more, read the book. Coming to the author, there's no doubt that Preeti Shenoy is the best female author in the genre in which she writes. Every time she drafts a story, it comes up with a message and lots of learning. And she does it with an entertaining manner rather than keeping the story too intense or up-to-the-point.
She knows what to put where in the book which directly touches the heart of the readers. As the authoress herself is a married woman, she understands the plight of married women and hence, they would love reading her books more than anyone else. But what's interesting is that even youths like me loves reading her book. It does not have any age barrier.Few bits I liked are the Salsa and the details, the mother in law who seemed extremely understanding and sweet.
We communicate such a lot without even talking. Mrs Subhalakshmi herself may call up my mother and tell her that she spotted me speaking to a guy outside dance class.
I follow every football match you play, and watch every debate you take part in. But after Vibhas visit, I have begun to notice these things a lot more. I badly want to hug him right there but we are in a public place and that too in conservative Chennai.
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