Ms Amarat Sehgal is a graduate in Media Technology and has been a creative writer for over two years. Having experienced the high’s and low’s of many adventurous relationships, she has decided to share her experiences.
You can follow the series exclusively here on AIM over the next six weeks.

by Amarat Sehgal
—

I looked at my phone for the fifth time, checking to see if there were any missed calls or messages.
Nothing! And there was zilch for the next 3 hours too.

I knew Danny was in the pub again, I could even name the pub too. He was watching the Chelsea match and as always, he drank far too much.
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Miss Amarat Sehgal is a graduate in Media Technology and has been a creative writer for over two years. Having experienced the high’s and low’s of many adventurous relationships, she has decided to share her experiences.
You can follow the series exclusively here on AIM over the next six weeks.

by Amarat Sehgal
—

Another hot date with Raj and things were looking really good, we had been dating for the last 3 months. He was funny, charming and very romantic. This time he had even laid out candles on the stairs, I mean I can’t remember the last time a man had even dimmed the lights down for me.

But this time he had cooked for me too, the champagne was going straight to my head and I was enjoying every minute of it. After we ate lamb shanks, he told me how his mother would make them for him as a teenager. Very impressive, a man who could cook too, this was just great.

He put some music on after he fed me dessert with his bare hands, the whipped cream was all over the place but he didn’t care. We moved onto the sofa and then he started to kiss me passionately. I knew this would end up in his room or maybe even on the kitchen worktop.

Just as he unbuttoned his shirt, I heard a scream and then a horrible shout.
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Author, poet and film-maker Nikesh Shukla has a short story collection in podcast form: titled Wham! Bam! Stories, Man!

Shukla says he was inspired by the oral tradition of griots and felt the podcast format was good instant and current way of bringing his voice to the world.
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A group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact. And that too for one night only.
You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul here, exclusively on AIM.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

This is the last part of the series.
[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15]

“You have got to be kidding?” Ashok protested when he saw the suit he was going to wear. It looked immaculate…but he was not happy. He stared at the back of it and grumbled, “Couldn’t you get a different sponsor…or a smaller print?”

“Hey, it was either this or Raman’s Caravan and Holiday Group”, said Raj. “I couldn’t pay for the suits and the equipment without some sponsorship”.
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A group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact. And that too for one night only.
You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul here, exclusively on AIM.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14]

Ramesh knocked at Jas’ door. It was a few seconds before it was answered by Maria. Maria rolled her eyes at him. “What do you want to hear? She’s not here. She doesn’t want to talk to you. She doesn’t want to see you”.

“Just one minute…please”, pleaded Ramesh.

“She’s not here”.

Ramesh sighed. “Okay, can you tell her that it was Sanjay. He must have set me up and sent the girl round to try and break us up.

Maria contemplated this for a moment. “But Jas doesn’t want Sanjay either”.

“Yeah but he wants her back. It’s the only reasonable explanation”.

“That and the fact you could be lying”.
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A group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact. And that too for one night only.
You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul here, exclusively on AIM.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13]

Ramesh nuzzled up to Jas on the sofa in her flat. They had just finished off a pizza take-away and were enjoying a film on the TV. A knock on the door disturbed Ramesh’s moment. Jas picked herself up and opened the door.

“Where is he?” came an instant cry. “Where the hell is he?”

Ramesh craned his neck at the commotion.

“Who are you?” enquired Jas.

“You don’t know me…but I know you Jas”. The loud lady barged into the flat.

“Hey…wait a minute”, protested Jas.
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A group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact. And that too for one night only.
You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul here, exclusively on AIM.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12]

Ashok walked silently with Rupa to school the next morning. He was waiting. She was waiting. They both wanted to talk about the contents of the letter, but neither wanted to be the first to mention it.

“So…did you happen to see if there was anything different in your room this morning?” Ashok enquired slowly.

“No”, Rupa’s reply was instant. “But I did see a letter last night”.

“Last night? Did you wake up during the night?”

“No…I was awake when you left it there”.

“Oh, I see. Well why didn’t you mention anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” retorted Rupa.

“So, do you understand what I was trying to say?”

“I think so. When are you going?”
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A group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact. And that too for one night only.
You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul here, exclusively on AIM.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11]

Ramesh had tidied the flat, after he had broken the news to his roommate Jagpal, that he had a girlfriend…and after he had picked up Jagpal from the floor, where he had fallen after laughing so hard. Most of the work in tidying the flat had in fact been to basically just get rid of Japgpal. The man was a walking dustbin. A dustbin, with holes in that is.

Ramesh had changed into his best suit…his only suit. He had cleaned his teeth for an extra sixty seconds more than normal. He had prepared his famous dish…the supermarket special, meal-for two. Straight out of a box and ready to eat in 60 minutes.

The doorbell rang.
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A group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact. And that too for one night only.
You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul here, exclusively on AIM.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10]

By the time they got together that night, each of the guys had different things on their mind. Raj had his mind clearly focused on the band and what they were going to do. Ramesh was so hung over with love that he wasn’t really listening to anything that was being suggested.

Ashok was silent, for once. He was still worried about his sister Rupa and what she must be thinking about his less than lawful activities. As for Bernie, well he was in two moods. One side of him felt like a child again, as if he was at the beginning of a new adventure. The other side was tormented with a sense of guilt at what the guys would say if they found out what his original intentions for the band had been.
Continue reading…

A group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact. And that too for one night only.
You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul here, exclusively on AIM.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9]

Ramesh was once again standing outside Jas’s flat. Once again he was nervous. This time it wasn’t so much how Jas was going to react at seeing him on her doorstep that was worrying him, but more what her ex-boyfriend, Sanjay was going to do if he found him there. He didn’t have to wait long for the answer. Sanjay appeared, carrying a bunch of red roses that had been carefully wrapped and had a bright yellow bow around the packing.

Sanjay glared at Ramesh. It was the glare of a man who was both confused and angry at the same time. “What are you doing here?” he bellowed. “Didn’t you get my message?”
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Amit Rajp is a first-time author. He has a background in academic research and teaching in Birmingham. This is an excerpt from his book: ‘My Name Is Baljit But You Can Call Me Gary: The Alternative Guide To Indian Culture’

What is the fixation that mums, aunties, nans (nannijis), and grans (bibijis) have with plastic containers? It’s like Asian women have an addiction to plastic Tupperware!

The person that sets up the first ‘Tupperware Addiction Clinic’ for Asian women is going to make a lot of money – probably some Asian guy who will acquire a forged certificate from India.
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Over the next few weeks & months you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact, and for one night only. You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8]

6a.m. The alarm clock had failed to wake Raj, so Malkit was now calling out to him. Raj opened his eyes and smiled. The night before had been a great revelation and somewhere deep inside of him he felt as if he might finally have some purpose in his life. As he showered and changed, he sang a few of the soul songs that the guys and Bernie had been playing until 2a.m. When he came downstairs he saw Malkit with a big smile on his face. It seemed as if they both had something they were happy about.

“So, how did it go?” asked Malkit expectantly.

“Great, really great”.

“Really?” Malkit was surprised. He had expected a completely different reaction, especially as he had asked Bernie to ruin the equipment. “And the equipment, did it work okay?”
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Over the next few weeks & months you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact, and for one night only. You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7]

When Detective Harris saw the Ford Cortina turn around and head back towards the garage, he decided he wasn’t going to follow any longer. After all, there was a particularly good documentary about the life of a cockroach that he wanted to watch and he had already missed it once.

Ramesh was apologising as the guys pulled up outside the garage. He was sure he must have dropped his keys and as his roommate Jagpal was probably out at the disco, then there was nothing to do but go back and re-trace his steps. As the guys stepped out of the car, Jas instantly told them to keep quiet. “Listen”, he said placing a finger to his lips. For a few seconds there was nothing, but then they all heard it at once. There was the sound of music coming from the garage. “I switched everything off. I’m sure of it”.

They walked slowly down the alley running by the side of the garage. They could see that the door had been forced open. “Maybe we should call the police”, whispered Ramesh.
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Over the next few weeks/months, you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact…and for one night only…you can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6]

Ashok had been true to his word and had found an unused lock-up garage that his friend was allowing him to use. It was quite a fair size and although the lighting was quite dim, it was enough for the guys to get by. Raj had just finished setting up the equipment when Ramesh walked in hurriedly and almost tripped over some cabling.

“Hey, what’s the rush?” asked Ashok.

“It was hard to find this place. It’s not exactly what I would call convenient”, Ramesh was almost out of breath.

“It’s free…so it’s convenient”, retorted Ashok. “Have you been running or something?”

“I’ve never been here before and there’s a lot of dodgy looking people out there”.

“And that’s just the women”, Ashok said with a smile. “Relax man…you’re with me now, so it’s cool”.
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Over the next few weeks/months, you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact…and for one night only…you can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5]

Ramesh had just finished talking to Raj on the telephone. They had been making plans to meet the following day and put some ideas in motion. What exactly they were going to do was still undecided, but meeting up would be a good start. Ashok was also geared up for the first meeting and indeed had showed a surprising surge of urgency about it all. Surprising because when the three of them had first met at the look-alike contest, he was the one that was least interested.

Unfortunately for Ramesh, he didn’t realise he was being followed. As he stepped out of a café, he was immediately confronted by Sanjay. “Have you done it yet?” asked Sanjay. His manner was forthright and it demanded an answer.

“It takes time you know. It’s not easy to un-dump someone”.
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Kali theatre is looking for writers of the future. Short or full length – the London based production company is actively looking for scripts by women writers for theatre. Selected writers will receive dramaturgical support to develop their script for Kali’s next festival in 2010.
More info: www.kalitheatre.co.uk

Over the next few weeks/months, you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact…and for one night only…you can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[This is part 5. Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4]

Raj had just finished writing the end of another poem when Malkit returned from the Cash and Carry. Raj quickly closed his workbook and put it under the counter, but Malkit had already spotted it. “Being creative again eh?” Malkit said smiling.

“It keeps me busy”, Raj replied.

“What with the poetry and with the singing, you are becoming the regular show business man aren’t you”.

“Poetry isn’t show business…it’s an expression of the soul”.

“I see. And what does your soul tell you about those tins on the shelves over there?”

Raj rolled his eyes and knew that the conversation wasn’t going to get anywhere. He ended it abruptly. “I got to go out”.

“Where?”

“To get some equipment”.
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Sometimes you just want to do something a little different with your life. Something that makes you feel good or makes a difference to other people. Over the next few weeks/months, you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact…and for one night only…you can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

“You must be crazy”, Malkit said with indifference.

Raj hadn’t really expected anything else from his father and to be truthful, he was unsure of the idea himself. To pursue a musical career was hard enough, but when you were Asian, living in the 1980’s and the only lyrics you knew from memory were those of Elvis Presley, then you really must be crazy. To contemplate teaming up with two other Asian men who hardly oozed confidence and enthusiasm was crazier still, not to mention the fact that one of them, Ramesh, seemed highly temperamental, while the other, Ashok, seemed too laid back.

Raj was stacking one of the shelves when Malkit came out with another pearl of wisdom, “Music is not in our blood. Your grandfather was tone deaf and your uncle had a guitar for ten years and never played one proper note.”

“But that’s just it dad. I want to break the mould. I know you don’t think much of music, but I love it. I’m not even talking about playing instruments, I’m talking about just singing…to backing music.”
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Sometimes you just want to do something a little different with your life. Something that makes you feel good or makes a difference to other people. Over the next few weeks/months, you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact…and for one night only…you can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

The applause for the imitation Bee Gees rang loud and clear in the heads of Raj, Ramesh and Ashok. Even now, when they were sat at the bar in the local snooker club, they were reflecting on the events of the evening. For Ashok, it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience because he was just doing it for a dare anyway, but for the other two, it was like a bombshell.

“I can’t believe I missed it”, Raj lamented, “I was practicing for weeks”.

“Weeks? Man, I just picked up my wig yesterday”, Ashok commented.

“Well that’s the difference between you and me then. I took this seriously”, Raj was slightly annoyed at Ashok’s throwaway remark.

“I was just doing it for a laugh. I can see you went to a lot of effort though…that Elvis get-up sure is convincing”, Ashok said. Then he looked at Ramesh. “But for the life of me, I can’t make out who you’re meant to be”.

“Peasant”, Ramesh retorted, “I’m Mohammed Rafi…do you know who Mohammed Rafi is?”
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Sometimes you just want to do something a little different with your life. Something that makes you feel good or makes a difference to other people. Over the next few weeks/months, you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact…and for one night only…you can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

Having left his father to look after Mrs Watson at the shop, Raj had got into the family Ford Cortina and was making his way to the theatre. He was going through Hounslow – east, central and west. A town so big they had to name it three times. The fact that the family Cortina also doubled as the transport for the groceries from the Cash and Carry, probably explained why Raj was frantically trying to prop up a couple of boxes on the passenger seat while negotiating a particularly tight corner. He was desperately trying to avoid spilling anything on his Elvis costume, which he had worn in an attempt to save time.

He stopped at the lights. He was still twenty minutes away and was due on stage in fifteen. A red Capri pulled up beside him and the driver glared at him. Raj knew what the glare meant. It was the Hounslow glare, which meant, ‘when the lights turn green, you’ll only see the rubber on my tyres’. Raj was in no mood to race. The last thing that he needed was either to be caught in a speed trap or to find himself wrapped around a lamppost. With his Elvis gear on, he could just imagine what the police and journalists would make of him.

The driver of the red Capri smiled sadistically and sped away the instant the lights turned yellow. The Ford Cortina moved off slowly and then gathered pace, only to be halted at the next set of lights. The red Capri was nowhere to be seen, but in his mirror, Raj saw a cyclist approaching…and then passing him, with no apparent regard for the traffic lights. Raj sighed heavily and waited.
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Sometimes you just want to do something a little different with your life. Something that makes you feel good or makes a difference to other people. Over the next few weeks/months, you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact…and for one night only…you can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

It was almost as if Elvis had been re-born. Raj stood in front of the half-length mirror and surveyed his impressive costume. The one piece, white suit shone in all its glory and his black, slicked back hair was the very copy of Elvis’ memorable quiff. If the setting had been Las Vegas, then surely Raj had found his destiny.
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