Like Being Alive Twice

Is there a moment, so pliant, that we can nudge it towards any future we desire?
Sometimes I believe that there is such a moment. In a lifetime, once.

In an unnamed nation that's about to rupture, Priyamvada (Poppy), a Hindu and Tariq, a Muslim are in love. In a few hours, Tariq intends to propose; Poppy intends to say yes. Both assume that they'll fend off political blowback. For, surely, their privilege will protect them.

But will it? Will Poppy and Tariq sustain a love so wholesome, so cossetted, that it remains impervious to a dystopian state? Or will the two be rent apart by chance and circumstance? What will their lives look like as they plunge into a brave new future, together or apart?

Written in alternating chapters, Like Being Alive Twice trails fact and possibility―the tale as-it-was and the tale as-it-could-have-been-if-only―arranging and rearranging, tweaking and nudging; hoping to find a lasting peace in one or the other story; hoping, above all else, that such peace will prevail over murderous times.