Sujata Rajpal

Sujata Rajpal is a Corporate Communication & PR professional turned a full-time author. Her debut novel The Other End of the Corridor is her first work of fiction. The book was selected as one of the six books by Indian authors which broke stereotypes. She also writes columns and articles for online and print publications. She stumbled upon her passion of writing when her cushy job stopped challenging her. When not writing, she indulges in long walks, Yoga, Toastmasters and playing chess with her two sons.
  • Sujata Rajpal | 07-May-2017
    In our back lane, there is a dhobhi. It’s a 8 x 8 room, two tables for ironing on either side of the room. Every time when I went to give and take clothes, Kumar will be ironing the clothes, his wife either ironing on the other table or sitting on a plastic chair just outside the shop, husband and wife chit chatting, laughing, joking, having a word or two with the customers, it was a happy sight to see husband and wife bonding. They have a son and a daughter, both married, well qualified and earning well. Soon the business grew. More work. More money. ‘I should hire someone to help me, I can’t iron so many clothes,’ Kumar often whined, smiling all the while. Now when I go to the shop, Kumar is ironing the clothes with his back towards the hired help who is ironing on the other table, a heap of un ironed clothes on one side and a pile of ready ones on the other. The pile is going bigger but I also notice that Kumar rarely smiles now. ‘Amma doesn’t come to the shop these da
  • Excerpts from The Other End of the Corridor ( Fiction)
    Sujata Rajpal | 30-May-2017
    He had straight, neatly cut hair; sharp, intelligent eyes and distant eyebrows. I couldn’t make out whether his eyes were black or brown; it had a tinge of both the shades, but more of brown. His face was broad, but also on longish side, and not moon shaped like Vishal’s. Dusky complexion not dark like mine, long sharp nose, and light brown fully curved lips added to his boyish charm. A soft dimple showed on his right cheek when he stretched his lips into a smile.  I quickly turned my face away when Jai paused in the middle of a sentence; he had caught me observing his facial expressions. “Hello, where are you?” he waved his fingers in front of my nose to bring me back. Embarrassed, I suddenly got up.  “I should leave now, I am getting late,” I said. Even before I knew what I was saying, I had reached the door of the coffee shop. From the corner of my eyes, I saw him looking at me through the large glass window while I walked shyly on the footpath. His face wa
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