Humor and Satire

When a midnight garbage drop is caught on a Parramatta apartment's security camera, the residents launch an escalating, highly laminated war of public shaming. As fake moustaches slip and counter-posters multiply on the local lamppost, this fierce diaspora community must decide whether to weaponize their surveillance or forgive their shared human flaws. "Parramatta Eyes" is a warm, razor-sharp comedy about secrets, accountability, and the messy art of truly being seen.

When a joint military alliance seizes India's vulnerable Siliguri Corridor, the subcontinent braces for a devastating, blood-soaked war. Instead, the grand invasion is completely derailed by weaponized river dams, a catastrophic national flour shortage, and an invading army that ultimately decides to forge fake IDs and blend into the local slums.

When arrogant content creators attempt to monetize their traditional Indian families through malicious viral pranks, the ancestral elders do not weep—they orchestrate ruthless, real-world counter-attacks. Like, Share, and Submit chronicles nine horrifyingly hilarious case studies of digital hubris where internet trolls are brutally outsmarted by ancient traditions and unyielding physical laws. The cameras might be rolling, but the legacy systems are fighting back.

When nine suburban Sydney women are violently abducted by an ancient demon king, they utterly refuse to play the part of helpless captives. Armed with cutting wit and corporate-level logistics, they break his spirit, steal his credit card, and orchestrate a flawless escape. Returning to Parramatta, these newly forged queens are ready to exact ruthless domestic vengeance and reclaim their kingdom.

When the stones of faith are forced to float under RFID tags and divine wrath must wait for network clearance, who truly wins the war for Lanka? A luminous, devastating reimagining of the Ramayana in which the platform becomes the final god.

When a brash pop diva storms Sydney, nine husbands lose their heads—and their wives lose no time restoring order. A glittering night of diamonds, desire, and disaster ends with one unforgettable plague of tiny, crawling justice. The Parramatta Symphony—a sensual, satirical ode to marriage, mayhem, and the sweet revenge of everyday goddesses.

An ancient philosopher, nine luminous women, one peeling terrace in Parramatta. Love, laughter, and dialectic collide in a fragrant, chaotic symphony of the senses. Where the unexamined household is simply not worth living.

"Just because I am a pastor's daughter doesn't mean I am a good Christian.", said Stacy. "Nonsense, Stacy. You serve animals, and you haven't been around humans the whole time I have known you to have possibly sinned anyway.", said Chad. "Yeah, not quite. I also have a tattoo of a butterfly on my butt, and that is a violation of Leviticus 19:28.", said Stacy.

In Parramatta’s fragrant streets, everyday shadows summon sirens and samosas. Nine couples turn curtains, drones, and delivery vans into grand conspiracies—until laughter and chai reveal the true poetry of belonging. A hilarious, heartwarming ode to immigrant vigilance and unexpected friendship.

In Parramatta’s glowing community hall, love is not whispered in secret but roared under southern stars. When Indian-Australian couples turn their everyday battles—over barbecues, WiFi passwords, and parking spots—into high art, laughter, tears, and profound wisdom collide in a feast of cultural fusion.

Essie, the imagined black quantum cat, becomes a detective and investigates the famous and hidden mysteries of quantum theory, from measurement and the Born rule to Gödel’s silence, Wittgenstein’s absence, Majorana’s disappearance, and the strange power of successful calculation.

When the greatest conqueror in history invades Parramatta, the real battle begins at the food court.Genghis Khan meets his match: rent, algorithms, laxative-laced butter chicken, and crocodiles in the river.An epic of empire versus electricity bills—where even legends must deliver Uber Eats to survive.

Think The Phoenix Project or The Goal, but for the age of AI agents: a business novel that teaches a hard technical subject through story and humor, aimed at the people who have to make decisions about it, as well as people who are actively engaged in architecture and engineering.

A software engineer turned poet hunts the perfect "Good Character Girl" across Sydney’s multicultural dating scene — only to discover that every ideal woman hides a glorious gremlin.From spreadsheets and biryani to flamenco and Rakija, one man’s hilarious multicultural romantic audit leads to the ultimate truth about love.

The Birth of Essie A quiet room. Books on the shelves. Coffee cooling on the table. A notebook liesopen, though no sentence has yet agreed to become first. There is no box in thecenter of the room now. The box belongs to the previous book. But its absenceis not empty. Essie sits where the box once might have been, as if replacingapparatus with presence. Elan Essie, if this book is to begin honestly, we have to talk about your arrival. Essie Arrival is better than origin. Humans become too confident when they think they have found origins. Elan You object already?Essie I arrived already. The objection merely followed. Essie was imagined, but she did not come from nowhere. I had lived with actual cats: a black cat for a time, and also a dwarf Siamese cat, whose small body contained the full imperial confidence of the species. Real cats had already taught me that feline intelligence is not theoretical. It arrives as timing, refusal, posture, appetite, attention, and the uncanny ability to occupy the one page one needs most. Essie inherited none of them literally, but she emerged in a mind already markedby them. I had first imagined Essie as a quantum cat, named after Erwin Schrödinger, but that explanation is too small. It accounts for the name, not the necessity. A name can be attached in an instant. An arrival may take decades. Essie was not born in Vienna in 1935. She was not born inside Schrödinger’s box. She was not born in a laboratory, though laboratories and classrooms helped prepare the conditions. She was born from the long afterlife of quantum questions in a mind that had lived with them for more than fifty-five years. Essie Better. Continue, but do not make me sound like a footnote to your education.Elan Essie You are not a footnote.Essie Good. I am at least a marginal correction. There were neurons, yes. There were synapses, too, though it would be sentimental to make them sparkle without admitting that neurons also carry grocery lists, embarrassments, old songs, and the location of misplaced glasses. But sometimes, in that ordinary biological electricity, old questions find one another again. A remembered lecture finds an equation.An equation finds a paradox.A paradox finds a cat.And the cat, being a cat, refuses to remain where it was found. Essie Now we are approaching accuracy.Elan You were born from my neurons speaking to their neighbors.Essie Only if we add that some of the neighbors were unruly.Elan Naturally.