Slices of Solitude is a fiction compilation of short stories. Dr. Sandhu was first compelled to write about a true event in her life which became "Dreamz". A myriad play on your senses, "Slices.." is a readers delight that takes you deep into the beating heart of the deliciously spicy India where a young woman suddenly finds herself surrounded by unfamiliar faces & motives. A young bride finds herself shrouded in the pain of lost love while desperately trying to assemble the pieces of her life. Young parents Nisha & Raj bask in the joys of young parenthood only to discover a deep pain when sudden tragedy touches their lives and changes their destiny forever while a slice of chocolate rum cake teasingly invites Senna to surrender to the sinful warmth of an aphrodisiac substance. Enjoy these captivating Slices...
Dr. Sharnjeet K. Sandhu was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. She later moved to the United States to complete her Doctor of Chiropractic Medicine degree and currently resides in San Jose, California where she spends her time between patients at her clinic and as an active member of her community involved in a volunteer project with Team Asha. Her inspiration to give words to the expressions of life comes from her parents Satnam Singh and Iqbal Kaur, her husband Anand Kumar, her siblings: Dr. Kernjeet, Harsimran and Sartaj who are a constant support.
9:00 a.m.
The heat was deep & burning, permeating even the slightest cracks in the sidewalk. It created a sluggish movement of the people under the scorching sun on that Wednesday morning. It was on this day that my cousin Raj and I began our journey from New Delhi to Punjab. As we drew closer to the train station it was nearly nine o’clock in the morning and our train had a scheduled 9:30 departure. The streets began to fill as hundreds of Delhites arose to yet another sweltering morning. Street vendors opened their stalls, filling their tiny jars with their special blend of spices. I watched from the air-conditioned car window as one man began filling the spicy gol gappe with small slivers of potatoes, green chillies and sweet chutneys, and as another began peeling fresh fruits to blend for his first customer of the morning.
I watched as a group of school children stopped at the gol gappe stall, hurriedly gobbling up the treats, washing them down with the spicy water they were served in. The mere thought of the hot, sticky, engulfing air was enough to make me dread leaving the car. We swerved into the crowded train station parking lot and Raj and I quickly got out at the curb. A crowd had formed at the station and the non-existent ticket lines were swarming with passengers trying in vain to purchase late tickets or board an already moving train.
We gingerly stepped into the crowd. Observing the chaos, I closed my eyes against the increasing anxiety around me. The imaginary clock ticked away in my mind and when I opened my eyes, Raj emerged from the soup of colliding bodies. His energetic wave flashed with our train tickets and I released the deep breath that I didn’t realize I had been holding. We were on our way back to Punjab. Raj and I quickly made our way over to the train and loaded our two suitcases underneath our seats and then tiredly fell onto our blue benches.