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Cindy Pereira

Storyteller
Storyteller

Cindy Pereira, born and raised in Bangalore, India, prefers to be called a storyteller rather than a writer. Her love for telling stories began at a very young age when her dolls became the actors for scripts created in her mind. At one point in time, as a little child, she had a book filled with self-drawn paper doll cut-outs – each an actor or an actress in her personal fantasy stories. This turned to writing in middle school when she and her best friend hand wrote stories for each other, complete with binding and cover pages. Some of her stories sparked out of dull journeys home from work and some are just yarns. Cindy has a Master's Degree in English Literature and loves to trek, run and just ‘catch the sun.’ She is married and lives with her husband in Bangalore. 

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Lost And Found

Books by Cindy Pereira
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In ‘Lost And Found,’ the author allows the protagonist, Doug Geoghegan, a young English lecturer at a junior college in Bangalore, to narrate the story of his life in his own way. He writes about the boyish, and passionate love he had for a girl who never really loved him back, his friends whom he grew up with, his sisters who considered him their father figure, and his grandmother and her battle with Schizophrenia. He sometimes quotes from an old diary of th

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Dancing With Dandelions

Books by Cindy Pereira
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In this collection of Short Stories, the author celebrates the innocence of childhood, marks the deep pain of loss, and honours the messages of hope in deep blue skies and lacy white clouds. From the horrors of a road accident and the fury of a village mob, to near death experiences and then to the wings of butterflies, she lets her imagination fly, like dandelions dancing in the breeze. She celebrates children who found perfection in the imperfect, aunts and

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To School A Thief

Books by Cindy Pereira

Something appeared to be amiss in the Anglo Indian town of Landsend – Doug Geoghegan could feel it as he drove to work that morning. The two young men whom he'd noticed by the Cross Road looked hardened and desperate, and very familiar. About an hour later, all hell broke loose when 25 children of the Mount St. Joseph School and their teacher were taken hostage by two armed men. What made it personal was that Doug’s wife, the school’s Headmistress had also

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Arms For Alms

Books by Cindy Pereira

The frail beggar woman wanted to change her life; she wanted all the nice things she often dreamed of when she rocked herself to sleep under the stars. She wanted to live in a big white house with a garden and a fence, and she wanted a comfortable bed to lie in when the nights turned cold. She wanted a big handbag filled with money and wanted to spend it on what-so-ever she liked. She wanted all the comforts that every rich woman had and wished that the means to

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The Burnt Offering

Books by Cindy Pereira

Included in this collection are some stories written more than 20 years ago and some that are fairly recent. Each story tells a different tale; some are humorous, some are witty, some carry a mild streak of pain and some just tell a simple tale with no frills attached. The characters in each story are normal people who lead normal lives, with successes, regrets, triumphs, humiliations, grudges and a little ‘shedding of baggage’ along with a healthy dose of

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The Little Girl

By Cindy Pereira in General Literary | Reads: 82 | Likes: 0

The little girl, per pig tails tousled and unkempt with a complete red bow tying one bunch of light brown hair, but its partner all open and undone peeped through a coin sized hole in the board that divided the front room of her humble home from the bedroom. She wore a hand-me-down T shirt and a ski  Read More...

Published on Jun 2,2020 07:59 PM

Little Peepal

By Cindy Pereira in General Literary | Reads: 61 | Likes: 0

Peepal Trees or the Sacred Fig Trees are tenacious No, this is not going to be an essay on a tree that is considered holy in India. But a little background will help. This particular tree among others is considered sacred and has been worshiped for over thousands of years. This is a 24-hour oxy  Read More...

Published on May 16,2020 05:28 PM

Batli-Paepurr

By Cindy Pereira in True Story | Reads: 62 | Likes: 0

About a year or two before my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, she began to show small signs of it, forgetting obvious things, hiding food in uncommon places and almost always misplacing her rings, spectacles or her wrist watch, or something or the other. Quite naturally, as a result she  Read More...

Published on Apr 5,2020 05:59 PM

Running Out Of Luck

By Cindy Pereira in True Story | Reads: 65 | Likes: 0

It was a pleasant Friday evening and he decided that he would by-pass the dusty village of Javangalli and ride on to Bangalore through the town of Malvalli. He rode out of Sategal and over the bridge across the Cauvery, feeling the wind swish-swash as he passed each pillar of the long, gigantic stru  Read More...

Published on Apr 5,2020 05:43 PM

A Pail Of Water And A Neighbour's Daughter

By Cindy Pereira in Humour & Comedy | Reads: 77 | Likes: 0

It was early morning yet and the mists of late November had clouded his shack so heavily that he could not see more than ten feet before him. He urinated in the common toilet shared between six houses in the row and mechanically ambled toward the tap to fill a pail with water, gently moving away ano  Read More...

Published on Mar 29,2020 04:15 PM

The Symptoms of Panic

By Cindy Pereira in True Story | Reads: 73 | Likes: 0

28 Feb 2020 – We leave for the airport early in the morning to pick my brother and sister-in-law up. They are going to stay at our home during their holiday. Everyone is talking about Covid 19 ravaging Wuhan. No one even realises what this whole thing is. My brother has a cough. He insists tha  Read More...

Published on Mar 28,2020 05:30 PM

Knives

By Cindy Pereira in General Literary | Reads: 64 | Likes: 0

I am not fond of knives. By that I mean that I am not a collector of those bits of weaponry or cutlery, depending on your preference of usage. I don’t collect them; I don’t store them. I use them now and again in the kitchen when I putter around there to experiment how far my body would   Read More...

Published on Mar 28,2020 03:27 PM

Blue Is True

By Cindy Pereira in General Literary | Reads: 81 | Likes: 0

Varun considered himself a 21st century man, abreast with the times and sensitive to the demands of a rapidly transforming society, which was in favour of woman and their empowerment. When he married, he ensured that not only did he live separately from his rather conservative mother, but had also k  Read More...

Published on Mar 25,2020 10:45 AM

The Missing Spectacles

By Cindy Pereira in True Story | Reads: 117 | Likes: 0

It wasn’t difficult for any of us to recognise the statue despite the grotesqueness of the work itself – the figurine of this great architect of India’s Constitution was absolutely dissimilar to the actual man himself, Dr. Ambedkar. It had a small head, a strawberry pink face, a gr  Read More...

Published on Mar 25,2020 10:35 AM

Flowers Are Flowers

By Cindy Pereira in Poetry | Reads: 101 | Likes: 0

Flowers are flowers when ‘live with sap, They smile above their glossy leaves; When petals ope to butterflies, And welcome, nosy humming bees.   Not so bound fast to a string, Or to a circular frame enslaved; For one adorns a woman’s hair, The other sighs upon a grave.   Flower  Read More...

Published on Mar 23,2020 11:57 PM

Birds Of A Feather

By Cindy Pereira in True Story | Reads: 97 | Likes: 1

When my cousin Rosalie passed away some five years ago and my eldest brother called up and gave us the stunning news, we were absolutely shocked. Rosalie had perhaps been 34 or 35 at that time, with two very small daughters and a husband whom I had never met before the funeral. But it’s not Ro  Read More...

Published on Mar 24,2020 09:52 AM

The Lone Rider

By Cindy Pereira in Horror | Reads: 140 | Likes: 1

It was sharply cold outside and it was dark. Yet high in the heavens, above the cloud of churning, white mist the stars were bright pins of icy light. The road was lit up by my cab’s headlights, but ahead of the beam, hazy in the swirl, all was dark. Behind us, in the distance shone a single b  Read More...

Published on Mar 22,2020 06:41 PM

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