Thursday, April 9, 2015

Foil To My Bane!

Courtesy: Inmagine.com

The melancholy digits on the mark-sheet  nonchalantly displayed themselves. Every time I looked at them I saw a dim future. If only I had worked harder, I kept thinking while mentally kicking myself.

Not a day had passed since tenth results were out and people around me were already flagging me and mouthing pasquinades.

Worse, my friends had done well and this chip was gingerly placing itself on my shoulder. I knew scoring low didn't make me less intelligent but it did showcased me as one.

My worrisome thoughts though were directed towards my parents. They hadn't much said till then. Hadn't reacted in any certain way.

Did they just stop talking to me? Did they disown me? Hell I deserved every bit of it.
I never thought text books were meant for me. Mathematics and I were from different planets and a few more subjects didn't share my genetic structure. The only subjects that appealed me were English and Biology; the ones I generally topped. I didn't like others and I couldn't sit through them. I knew this attitude would fetch me scores that are less rich in academic culture. Yet, I didn't care. But, now with those predicted marks and acerbic comments from certain very concerned family friends and nothing from my parents was reducing my faith in myself to crumbles.

Were my parents in shock? Why weren't they saying something? I then realized dad wasn't at home. I couldn't muster the courage to ask mom where was he? Mom too was engaged in kitchen.
Boycotted was I! "Definitely deserve it", I told myself.

I began to rifle through my options. Options to illuminate my future that looked like a dark cavern. I wanted to be a writer, always have, but I had to show my academic prowess. I was invariably told that these numbers will only push me to Arts and I knew they were right. Scoring well, no matter what stream, was now my only goal. Novelist was forgotten.

The door-bell rang. I knew it was dad. I didn't move. I didn't look at that direction. Just stared at the paper I was scribbling in.
I heard them murmuring. Were they to send me to some sort of exile? I sat on my spot motionless anticipating a sentence I was ready for.
The murmur had stopped and I felt their presence around me. I heard a pin drop in that nano moment. It was a murderous silence.
And then something happened. I was being crushed by my parents literally. They both were hugging me so tight I could feel my lungs struggling with their job.

Hug! They should be screaming at me shouldn't be hugging me.

Their lips were now pressing themselves against my forehead and cheeks.

Kisses! Oh my God, I have driven them mad. I turned to them and saw them smiling. Smiles that were assuring me they weren't crazy. Smiles assuring me I was still their daughter. Phew!

The smiles then were replaced with words. They weren't miffed at me nor had I shamed them. They told me how the scores could never take away my intelligence, my dignity, my future or anything else unless I give them up.
These were just part of life and not life itself.
Dad then showed me the reason of his absence. He had got me O. Henry's short story collection and mom announced she was making my favorite pulav.
The silence treatment was just to make me contemplate that on my thoughts, my needs, my actions. They know me well, if they hadn't given me that space, I would have taken things for granted.
With tears rolling down my cheeks and hugging my beloved patents, I looked at the tomb and smiled. Future was so bright.

Till date, those moments make me smile, optimize me, and fill me with love.




Friday, April 3, 2015

Making of a History aficionado?!

I love cinema. Movies, the good ones, are so much more than entertainment. Till date, for me its one of the best form of arts. But never have I garnered the same affection for History, that is until now. 'Now' refers to the past five or maybe six years.

As an average student I often lashed out at education system, within the confines of my mind, for not introducing Cinema as one of the subjects. It would have surely pushed my total percentage several notches up. 
Moreover my detest for History; the subject of dead people I cared the least for, had me have some wicked conspiring wishes. One of the milder ones was me merrily dreaming of Cinema replacing the good for nothing, drab, avein History; yes, the subject of dead people, I cared the least for, in our syllabus.
No surprises here, my prayers which were byproducts of my wishes fell on deaf ears - always, no exception.

Now that I'm older, wiser, sexier, and my whites are dyed in burgundy, History has gingerly but royally seduced its way into my life.
I don't recollect precisely how and when the amour blossomed between us but, today dead people fascinate me. Their lives, their milieu, their conspiracies, their struggles, their ideas - ill or not intrigue me. I'm captivated by the Mughals, the Mauryans, the Cholas, the whole shebang.


Cinema (ones with vintage approach) with its story telling prowess, the immensely talented people, Bollywood, Hollywood and all that jazz is still the apple of my eye, but in time History has ensconced itself on a strong dignified status.

Monday, March 30, 2015

Book Review: Story of Tublu - Jahid Akhtar!

  


Book: Story of Tublu.
Author: Jahid Akhtar

Tagline: An amazing journey called life.
Publication: Lifi publication
Price: Rs.200
Pages :204

What does it take to make debut of a book decent? Fine narration with the proper use of language along with skilled editing. The story of Tublu lags behind in these departments forcing Jahid's commencement into the literary world to elicit less interest from the reader.

I don't seek words that would make me sit with a dictionary to decipher every sentence. A simple prose with simple lingo can weave a grand tale.

Further, ill conceived characters and bad editing makes you cringe all through.
The repetitious 'cute little' to describe all the babies/toddlers in the story and the 'wells' coming on to prefix itself before sentences, in little less than 1/4th of the book, are enough to make it limp.

Dynamics between the characters remained unexplored. Sigh! I so wanted to see some alchemy at least  between Tublu and Adi. Nothing. The romance was placid too. And what mother would get into a passionate night in the couch with a person whom she gingerly pushes to marry someone else, while her unwell kid is in the bedroom? I wonder!
Btw, what was the hurry Jahid? The lets-wrap-up-quickly angle could be felt in many chapters especially in the latter ones making the book free of zest. I'm sure this wasn't your intention but it shows.

Accuse me of nitpicking, if you may, but such lackadaisical approach to prose and other foibles strewn throughout left me unimpressed. 

Note: The foreword is nothing but a spoiler. Don't ask me why! But if you are about to read the book, leave the foreword for last.

A good friend that you are, Jahid, but as promised for an honest review, I, with a hope of a better novel from you in future, rate 'Story of Tublu' with lesser number of stars; 2 out of 5.

I thank Jahid who gave me a copy of his debut novel to read and review.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Book Review: Catching The Departed- Kulpreet Yadav.




Title: Catching The Departed
Author: Kulpreet Yadav
Publication: tara India research press.
Price: Rs.299...$8.99...£5.99
Pages: 255




The author seems to not have paid much attention to the main characters. Monica's character seems to have been forcefully injected and nothing constructive comes out of it. Not fair to her intelligence. The architect behind all the wrong doings too didn't seem to be enough spiteful to be loathed. They  fail to impress. At times they shine and other  times they fall flat. The same happens with the story.

This review has been sitting on the back burner for months. My sheer incapability in time management is the sole cause of the delay. Apologies to the author.

An investigative journalist is probing the murder of a lawyer...the black hats and the nasty chain of events that are consequences of the miscreants...our hero's love is just not a pretty face; all this and more from a hamlet near New Delhi to Mumbai breathes through the words of a very capable writer. Kulpreet, after a delicious anthology, India Unlimited, comes on with the first installment of his Andy Karan series, "Catching The Departed". He won a fan in me with his first book and ergo my expectations invariably reached the highest rung of the ladder. Expectations, however, slipped a few rungs down as I progressed with the story.

To begin with, the protagonist's name doesn't strike a chord with me. It's Bollywood-ish.
However, the prologue and some chapters like the one where Hakim, the informer is slaughtered, had me turning the pages. The murder scene engulfed me so much so that I could swear I could smell the coppery blood wafting off the pages. But in the other parts the placid terrain made things dull for me.

Thrillers especially treading into the realms of undercover agents, ex army people, etc., need good research. The lack of it makes its presence felt in the story, thus, disappointing the reader in the process.
This one kind of flatters to deceive
 I rate 'Catching the Departed' 3/5.
    I thank 
Kulpreet Yadav for letting me an opportunity to read and review his first thriller.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Long Time No See-Saw!!!

Hello my fellow Earthlings,

Missed me?

Yes? Awww...love on your way.
No? Hmmm...hope that cauliflower on your kitchen counter is pillaged by those nasty, ewwish looking green worms.

*looks churlishly*

Now, I'm not going to delineate the sequence of actions and thoughts I was breathing in in these last many weeks. How I survived without blogging? or whether the reason was sheer boredom? or the much hated writer's block? Nada-giving you nothing to tittle-tattle about.

Surely, politics allowed to engage our days with lot of amusing topics, like it always does and always promises to present more entertainment. However, the one who bested all was, Baba Rampal; with his huge fortress, private army and human shield stayed in the limelight for around two weeks. And now we hear of another Baba;  "FrozenBaba" whose bhaktajans are ready to produce their "Meditating" baba in the court and prove he is not dead but on the path of Nirvana.

Gosh how much I love these Babas and Babis. Even the not much famous Bangali babas' advertisements are so delightful. They are good entertainers, not as entertaining as FRIENDS but definitely better than BiggBoss. OMG...did I just name FRIENDS and BB in the same line :o :o :o *blasphemy* :(
Hopefully, I would get to forgive myself some day for this imbecile interjection.


Moving on...
There is so much to talk about ...so much to listen to ...so much to express...so much to bore you with...and for that I'm
 scribbling this balderdash to announce: " CoffeeBeans is back"; Hope to create some good posts and eventually give something to gossip about. *wink*

Ergo, with a promise of next post soon to go live, signing off for today.
Xoxo

P.S. Worm infested cauliflower or any vegetable indicates ...no or less use of pesticides on them. Safe to eat...no?

P.P.S. My next post would be a book review.
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