Praise for I Too Had a Love Story
In his book, Singh has beautifully portrayed various emotions of life and love, its trials and tribulations, victory and defeat.
Indian Express
The past tense in the title is intriguing, as is the dedication: To the loving memory of the girl whom I loved, yet could not marry. Ravinders narrative is compelling, his emotions reflect a felt experience, and the denouement is touching. His tribute to the girl he loved will touch many a heart.
Tribune
Ravinders debut novel promises to strike a chord with the readers.While this poignant tale might not make you smile at the end, it will strengthen your belief in the fact that love stories are eternal.
Times of India
The story is poignant and also real. Full credit goes to the writer, Ravinder Singh, who keeps the story focused. Everything is real in the book. The people, places and especially how they interact with one another. The book narrates a very important chapter in Ravins life, but not without the message that the show must go on.
Metro News
They say, dont cry because its over but instead smile because it happened. This inherent hope and optimism is what this book embodies. As we accompany Ravin on his journey to find happiness, we go through a range of emotions. From initial excitement to elation, from contentment to anticipation, despair to devastation and finally a sense of resurrection, we see it all through Ravins eyes. I Too Had a Love Story is a simple story of love, about trysts of destiny that make up life as we know it. I commend Ravin on having the courage to share something so personal with the world.
Anupam Mittal, CMD and founder, Shaadi.com
Simple, honest and touching
N.R. Narayana Murthy
Not everyone in this world has the fate to cherish the fullest form of love. Some are born just to experience the abbreviation of it.
Dedicated to
the loving memory of the girl whom I loved,
yet could not marry.
Tere jaane ka asar kuch aisa hua mujh par,
tujhe dhoondate dhoondate, maine khud ko paa liya...
Anonymous
... Otherwise, I wouldnt have come across the author in me.
Days pass by somehow
But nights now are a wagon of pain
Injuries may heal with time
But marks will always remain
Restless on my comfortable bed
I toss and turn andtry to sleep
But thoughts are bulking my head
And have formed a huge heap
The past is flashing its scorchinglight beams
Tearing me apart, breaking me at the seams
The darkness of my life is more visible in the dark
And now I am trying to give it a voice, trying to speak my heart
Reunion
I remember the date well: 4 March 2006. I was in Kolkata and about to reach Happys home. I had been very excited all morning as I was going to see our gang of four after three years. After our engineering, this was the first time when all of usManpreet, Amardeep, Happy and Iwere going to be together. During our first year in the hostel, Happy and I were in different rooms on the fourth floor of the Block-A building. Being on the same floor, we were acquaintances but I never wanted to interact with him. I didnt think him to be a good guy because of his fondness for fights and the red on his mark sheet. But, unfortunately, I was late in getting back to the hostel at the beginning of the second year and almost all the rooms were already allotted by then. I was not left with any choice other than becoming Happys roommate. And because life is weird, things changed dramatically and, soon, we became the best of buddies. The day our reunion was scheduled, he had been working with TCS for two years and was enjoying his onsite project in London. Happy was blessed with a height of 61, a good physique and stunning looks.
And Happy was always happy. Manpreet, or MP as we called him, is short-statured, fair and healthy.
The reason I use the word healthy is because he will kill me if I use the proper wordfatfor him. He was the first among us to get a computer in the hostel and his machine was home to countless computer games. In fact, this was the very reason Happy and I wanted to be friends with him. MP was quite studious. He had even cracked the Maths Olympiad in his school days, and was always boasting about it. His native place was Modinagar but, at the time of this reunion, he was working with Ocwen in Bangalore.
Amardeep has been baptized Raamji by MP. I dont know when he got this weird nickname or why, but it was probably because of his simple, sober nature. Unlike the rest of us at the hostel, he was not at all a night person and his rooms light would go off precisely at 11 p.m. At times, MP, Happy and I used to stand outside his room a few seconds before 11 and begin to count down, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... and Raamji has gone down. The only mysterious thing about Amardeep was that he used to go somewhere on his bicycle every Sunday. He never told us where he went. Whenever we tried to follow him, somehow he would know and would digress from his path to shake us off. Even today, none of us knows anything about it. The best thing about the guy, though, is his simplicity. And, very importantly, he was the topper in the final semester of our Engineering batch. He made our group shine. He belonged to Bareilly and was working with Evalueserve when he, along with MP, flew to Kolkata for the reunion.