‘“The work enjoys great variety of background with a strong storyline, and illustrates vividly the good and bad aspects of social conditions in contemporary India. It is full of human interest and incident, both dark and joyful. which led me to turn the pages avidly, to discover the next twist in the plot.” (The late Peter Whitbread, winner of an Emmy Award in writing). ‘The Invisible Path’  by Deep Inder was originally published in 2008 but was rewritten and published with a completely new ending in 2020 as ‘You, Me and Little I’ under the pen-name, 'Deepi.'

Excerpts:

  “I will never ever enter this house again.” Banging the door behind me, I dashed out in anger, leaving my mother shouting and pleading hysterically after me. 

            “Co-Come back, Dante, p-please, please come back for God’s sake…”

But, I had had enough. They thought they were always right. They did not realize that I was no kid. I was a full sixteen years old and knew, as every teenager does, what I was doing. After all, what had I asked for?

+

MACCHAR, YOU COWARDLY BASTARD! I’LL KILL YOU!” Surjit shouted as he fired a few shots towards the window in blind, drunken anger. The guy at the window tried to go back inside, he was not quick enough. A dark hole appeared in his forehead. He had been hit.  The effects of liquor left me completely and a new numbness replaced the old. Would we be in jail? What would my parents say? I had still to avenge myself and we were already in trouble we might not be able to handle. Would I be able to take revenge? Would the police catch us? Would I also have to serve the sentence?  Would he die? I had not shot him so would they take a lenient view and let me off? Would Surjit put the blame on me? Would they all turn against me? Had it been their original plan? I did not know. My head reeled. Robot like, I followed the others. They had quickly got on their motorbikes and were off to look for our companions who were still looking for Macchar’s friend.

+

What was I thinking? Here she was in front of me. Dead. My lover, my life, my everything. Gone forever. And I thought of petty things! What did it matter what people thought? After she was no more what did it matter? Nothing mattered…I wanted to bang my head against the tracks and kill myself. I wanted to shoot myself dead. I wanted to kill those bastards, whoever they were. But who were they? And then, how would it make me better than them if I killed them and their families suffered? I slowly walked towards my scooter, a sobbing child.

        I reached her home. It was pitch dark. I will never know the time. Her friend asked me where Soo was but I did not have the courage to tell her. I asked for a drink. Three drinks later, I told her. She cried. I cried again. We wept in each other’s arms.

+

“What sort of a miracle?” I asked.

         “It could be anything…” was the enigmatic reply.

         “Does he never perform miracles in public?”

         “No, he never performs miracles. They just happen, when the believers are sincere and the gods send him into a trance…”