About the Book:
One afternoon, Lee Jung-Su, a star at the peak of his career meets Meena at a ramyeon shop, and thenceforth things take a turn. He gradually grows to like her, but encounters racism first-hand as he falls for the Indian girl.
Celebrities don't have it easy, especially not in South Korea. His fresh approach towards acting and the consequences of his relationship with Meena changes his perspectives of black and white, of good and bad, of reality and fantasy.
Book Links:
Goodreads * Amazon
Read an Excerpt from My Ramyeon Girl
The old man at the counter had this weird expression on his face, like he had something in his throat that he could neither swallow nor cough out. He should have looked a sight, anyone would have, but he looked grumpy instead. And, the bags under his eyes and the heavy frame spectacles concealing his tiny eyes made him look sinister. It was no wonder that the place remained empty most of the times.
“Welcome!” he mouthed. Jung-Su just nodded, but he didn’t miss the virulence in the man’s voice.
The place was oddly silent. He took a corner seat to avoid any prying eyes; after all he was a hallyu star, though disguised, and the place scarcely populated, he had to be excessively careful if he wanted to eat without creating nuisance. One glance round the place and he knew that no one would look in his direction, yet he kept his disguise on.
“They seriously need to fix the ambience.” The furnishers looked ludicrously odd, so old that it could fall at one gentle touch. Even the paint was flaking away from the walls. He was just absorbing his surroundings when the old man at the counter called out, “what do you want, mister?”
“Mandu ramyeon, please!”
“One mandu ramyeon for the gent,” he announced loudly - probably to the chef, but everyone in the room heard him and few even spared their attentions to get a good look at the new customer.
The man at the next table was reading a newspaper. Another man at the table across the billing counter was sipping coffee from an old, faded cup. There were a couple of school-kids feeling each other’s hands underneath the table, and a foreigner at the far end of the room. As there were young people unlike during his previous visit, he declared it was some progress and all the more reasons to fix the place.
The order reached his table sooner than he expected. The aroma wafted up to his sensitive nose, and then the ambience of the place that he so strongly disapproved of until a moment ago didn’t matter any longer.
He just dug in.
He slurped his noodles as if he hadn’t eaten anything for ages, and it made the man reading the newspaper give him a look of disgust. He ignored it and continued slurping, and crammed dumplings and kimchi into his mouth. It was delicious and he had to eat another bowl.
It took another look round the place to notice that the foreigner hadn’t touched her food; she was just staring at it. Her left eyebrow rose for a split second. Perhaps in apprehension, he thought.
“She must be eating Ramyeon for the first time,” he thought.
Suddenly, the corners of her mouth curved up and she picked up the chopsticks. It perked his curiosity. She dug into her bowl. The food slipped away through the chopsticks as she attempted to hold noodles between them. She tried over and over again, only to fail every time.
He couldn’t help laughing. It's not every day one sees a brown woman around Seoul struggling with chopsticks. It was her countenance that amused him more than her struggle. He had to bite the insides of his cheek to stop himself from laughing out loud. The effort it took to supress the laughter was so great that his body trembled and his face blushed. It made the old man at the next table consider him with doubt. First of all, it was strange enough that he still had his shades and cap on, and along with that he was laughing by himself. Any sane person would have taken him for a headcase, and he was amongst weirdoes to begin with.
She bent close to the bowl and tried, but didn’t succeed. The noodles still slipped from between her chopsticks. He observed that she had her hair braided, but every time she bent, a strand of hair fell on her face that she carelessly tucked behind her ear.
Her bright, round eyes searched the faces of her neighbours, probably to ensure they were not prying. When they met his, she smiled at him to hide her embarrassment, but he looked away immediately. He pretended to have not noticed her.
About the Author:
Based in Bangalore, Nethra is a post-graduate in Business Administration from Christ University Institute of Management and is a graduate in Computer Science & Engineering from University Visvesvarya College of Engineering-Bangalore. She is a voracious reader and a fiction writer, who puts quality writing over everything else. Her interest in good stories and writing made her start Fablery Mediaworks, a media house and a publisher of novellas and graphic novels.
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