tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5706031398227758442024-02-18T21:47:02.406-08:00The Tables TurnedDebalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-24683194312648618542023-03-12T03:02:00.002-07:002023-03-12T03:06:48.526-07:00Church Bells and Darjeeling Tea<p>A very<span style="background-color: white;"> <span style="color: #38761d;">happy and pleasant</span> </span>book, if you are looking for one.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheIi4KKRD2zuh8UoIfmPSxqcjU10xUzp60JedW2258F5BPwHetuwK1Er7rcPBc5A1UxmXQVgvZ67lDHpIQf3tfoZU9rGw3UiQjbXn2HfJEOZWZhuGyCbgIQeh5MYb0ZC3Sz86X_Jq2jQkcrGHgv0mzw3clwOfGTUAb7DoxeqdFlKrDTeL9g-EJHlvVRQ/s1024/chuchbellsanddarjeelingtea.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="642" height="745" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheIi4KKRD2zuh8UoIfmPSxqcjU10xUzp60JedW2258F5BPwHetuwK1Er7rcPBc5A1UxmXQVgvZ67lDHpIQf3tfoZU9rGw3UiQjbXn2HfJEOZWZhuGyCbgIQeh5MYb0ZC3Sz86X_Jq2jQkcrGHgv0mzw3clwOfGTUAb7DoxeqdFlKrDTeL9g-EJHlvVRQ/w468-h745/chuchbellsanddarjeelingtea.jpg" width="468" /></a></div><br />I picked up this book from a stall in the Bangladesh hall in Kolkata Book fair 2023. It was strange to have picked up an English book from the Bangladesh arena as per some of my friends. But the one random page that I opened of the book, its illustrations, its cover all just seemed so charming. They echoed and promised the same Ruskin Bond-ish charm but from Darjeeling and from a female point of view that belong to bot<span style="background-color: white;"><span></span></span>h India and Bangladesh. And I am so so glad that I picked this book up. It is just so charming. <span style="color: red;">❤</span><br /><br />Not that anyone cares (:P) but I would share one experience of mine with this book. I was sitting in a beautiful cafe the day before yesterday at the heart of south Kolkata surrounded by warm lights, my Ma's favorite black and white marble flooring, white-colored and heavy old iron chairs and slightly cool unexpected Kolkata summer evening. Reading this book with a flat white and a brownie made that evening just perfect. The perfect happy book at the perfect happy place. It was a very good evening. <span style="color: red;">❤</span><br /><br /><i><span style="color: #800180;">(Sorry for repeating)</span></i> This is such a charming and happy book that I am glad I picked it up. True to what it promised at the first glance in the book fair, the flavor for Darjeeling presented here is partially, not entirely, similar to what Rusty's is for Dehradun and his school days, for all Ruskin Bond fans out there. It talks about the history of Darjeeling, of Loreto convent interspersed with the history of pre- and post-independent India, how the culture of the British Raj was entwined in the Indian culture, Zeena's nanna, her family, histories of many other famous family's whom you will recognize if you are a Bengali. It is a walk down the memory lane, the nostalgia of a romantic age that is now lost to time. The illustrations add to the charm.<br /><br />On its cons, sometimes the historical descriptions are rather dry. I did not mind it as in general I am interested in the history of the hill station but it might be a turn-off factor for many readers. There is no particular order or structure apart from Zeena Choudhury's school timeline, and that choice justifies the organization for me as well.<br /><br />Overall it made me smile almost continuously and cry once or twice. The book is a happy autobiography of the writer's childhood spent at the Loreto convent. A very happy and light reading for one of the stressful work nights.<br /><br /><span style="color: #0b5394;">Happy reading! :)</span><p></p><br />Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-68857527088763800832023-03-10T01:20:00.000-08:002023-03-10T01:20:01.882-08:00Do you need a watchman?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.in/Go-Set-Watchman-Harper-Lee-ebook/dp/B00T4X9KO6/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="463" data-original-width="300" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1yRUxNLEgmFKdqF7yxMsqxDfX9n4lKJ7UtBVeDP62ucAu-AzNp7sScASQtn-_KkHuwJNCoatxfvs8t_dZp6KVVBNdcykvGZis04uri07gs_lm00kRbBVo_4-raLz3Gk4hUituLErsR_3aNNaAJb-33RAQxFZriMvufOSCg5L5DcOp3dtLj5EzMejpFQ/w342-h528/gosetawatchman.jpg" width="342" /></a></div><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>I</b></span> will confess I am one of those people who bought 'to kill a mockingbird', read a few chapters but never finished it. My justification? When I tried, I was perhaps too young and didn't like the pace. I started 'go set a watchman' a few days back. The pace was slow at first, and I again doubted if I will be able to continue added to the guilt of not having finished its predecessor, the book of the century even by some people. But I was IN almost as soon as these doubts of mine began to surface.<br /><br /><br />In spite of all the negative reviews on that book, I really liked it. Might be more so because I haven't read the 'original'. So me not finding the original masterpiece enticing enough in my 'youth' wasn't a bad thing after all! Ah, life! ;)<br /><br />When I as reading and starting to enjoy 'go set a watchman' I thought it would be interesting to play the reverse game. My friend ho has read both and like the second but adored the first says that if I like this book, I would absolutely adore that first one. He is quite a reliable person, so I trust him. I will still keep a gap of a few months or a year between the two, so maybe at the end of 2023 I will finish the year with a mockingbird. Soooooo excited! 🤩 Can't wait to gain that view and perspective. <br /><br />Some, not all and not-exhaustive or a complete set of, bits that stood out-<br />some fun excerpts, some emotions, -<br /><br />“ ...<br />The question, gentlemen—is one of liquor;<br />You ask for guidance—this is my reply:<br />He says, when tipsy, he would thrash and kick her,<br />Let’s make him tipsy, gentlemen, and try!<br />” <br />😳<br /><br />“… <br />(Would You Speak to Jesus If You Met Him on the Street? <br />…” <br />😂<br /><br />“… <br />Jem reversed his field and tackled heaven: heaven was full of bananas (Dill’s love) and scalloped potatoes (her favorite), and when they died they would go there and eat good things until Judgement Day, but on Judgement Day, God, having written down everything they did in a book from the day they were born, would cast them into hell.<br />...” <br />How sweet! 😂❤️<br /><br />“… <br />I don’t know if I can tell you, honey. When you live in New York, you often have the feeling that New York’s not the world. I mean this: every time I come home, I feel like I’m coming back to the world, and when I leave Maycomb it’s like leaving the world. It’s silly. I can’t explain it, and what makes it sillier is that I’d go stark raving living in Maycomb.<br />...” <br />Ah!❣️<br /><br />"...<br />Something that looked like a giant black bee whooshed by them and careened around the curve ahead. She sat up, startled. “What was that?”<br />“Carload of Negroes.”<br />My first book of this kind, of this aspect of history. I can’t express what I feel. Strange! But definitely not surprising.<br /><br />I absolutely loved and connected a lot to Jean Louise’s discovery of Atticus and Hank in the court. The after effect on her seems a bit over-dramatic but still quite beautifully written. My takeaway was that I must, must, absolutely must read the “original”. If this controversial and slightly hated one is so good, how great the original must be!<br /><br />“… <br />and was thumbing through it again when he said: “Scout, if there’s ever anything that happens to you or something—you know—something you might not want to tell Atticus about-<br />Huh?<br />You know, if you get in trouble at school or anything—you just let me know. I’ll take care of you.<br />Jem sauntered from the livingroom, leaving Jean Louise wide-eyed and wondering if she were fully awake.<br />... ”<br />💔❤️<br /><br />“...<br />Blind, that’s what I am. I never opened my eyes. I never thought to look into people’s hearts, I looked only in their faces. Stone blind … Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone set a watchman in church yesterday. He should have provided me with one. I need a watchman to lead me around and declare what he seeth every hour on the hour. I need a watchman to tell me this is what a man says but this is what he means, to draw a line down the middle and say here is this justice and there is that justice and make me understand the difference. I need a watchman to go forth and proclaim to them all that twenty-six years is too long to play a joke on anybody, no matter how funny it is. ”<br />Chapter 13, unlike its previous two chapters started off rather slow, but then as the conversation between Hester and Jean Louis’ started with the latter's own monologue as well, it was ❤️.<br /><br />Following parts were great too but I didn't make any updates or notes.<br /><br />Recommended. Even more so if you haven't read the preceding masterpiece.<br /><br />Happy reading! :)<p></p>Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0Kolkata, West Bengal, India22.572646 88.363895000000014-5.7375878361788466 53.207645000000014 50.882879836178844 123.52014500000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-90080889545556512802019-08-25T14:30:00.005-07:002019-08-25T14:32:52.564-07:00The Secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives, by Lola Shoneyin - a review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture courtesy: <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Secret-Lives-Baba-Segis-Wives/dp/1846687497" target="_blank">Amazon</a></td></tr>
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This is the kind of a book I have always dreaded. They are to a large extent a true depiction, and many truths hurt. This book is about the household of Baba Segi (father of Segi, his first born) and his household consisting of his four wives and their children. The fourth wife is, as it would seem to the household, an unnecessary novelty - a graduate( :O ). Educated and independent and young. How will that determine the future of the household? The book was marketed with and indeed has a secret, but what made me read was the picture of the society that was painted, and very deftly so too, but not the plot to be exact.<br />
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The book starts with a traditional and seemingly perfect and happy Nigerian family set a bit behind its new educated class. The way established patriarchal ways of family establishment treat women, first makes me pucker my brow and nose in disgust; this creates a sense of wonder for this uniformity of horrificness across continents and oceans for women, and finally the partial benevolence emanating from the patriarch Baba Segi and his family for each other <i>confuses</i> my disgust. Why it is the way it is with Baba Segi, Bolane and his other wives? Baba Segi, mind you, might be sexist but is not a misogynist. He is a good outcome of a society which has certain different parameters of judgement, so don't hurry your judgement.<br />
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The story goes on and I realise a thing about myself. I never thought that I would find the use of poop humour intelligent! Yes, I just wrote it. Having written it, in this story this is a good use of humour to bring a sense of normalisation, which exists if you are living this life as many people perhaps still do, into these situations which will make human rights' carers go hoarse. Humour in sombre and deeply distressing situations saves the day. It doesn't make you want to kill yourself in despair, or engage in a heated debate but start a conversation from a place which is comfortable(for some reason), even enjoyable for the apt use of comedy and makes you think before jumping into a conclusion you already know exists.<br />
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It is my first fiction which closely followed the lives of these classes of African women whose sense of normalcy and ours clash like a battle of titans. They are not "strong" women, some may argue but are they not? Why Iya Segi, Iya Femi, Iya Tope and Bolanle are who they are? Are they justified? Are they to be pitied, or feared? Or should we just marvel at the way they tried to hold on to life and the carefully elaborate plans they make to conquer it.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #0c343d;">Iya Seg</span>i</b>'s wisdom- is it just wisdom, or is it her cunning and deprived self finding a way out, and quenching her thirst through ambition? Why shouldn't she be who she is? She is ambitious, in control, manipulative but is the matriarch of the household. You dislike her first and then you somewhere starts understanding and even rooting for her almost sometimes.<br />
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">Iya Femi</span></b>- her story tells you the origin of the poison in her, and is it that unjustified? It is evil and dangerous at one side, but when you look the other way, don't you feel pity for her? She had once a promising life ahead, perhaps if life had given her a chance she would become someone like Bolanle, but then she lost all. She found a way out. Does she hate Bolanle also because she wanted to be an image of what now scares her current life's stability and existence the most?<br />
<b><span style="color: #073763;">Iya Tope</span></b>- you are always rooting for her, and if you believe in god, you would perhaps pray for her.<br />
And<b> <span style="color: #cc0000;">Bolanle</span></b>. She understood these women. She could decipher the root of their hatred, she pities them while she need as much sympathy and empathy as all the others. She is kind with horrors of her own. Why was this life her choice? And how long will she be able to hold onto it? I was waiting. Their stories were unfolding, and I was waiting for Bolanle to <span style="color: #674ea7;">snap</span>.<br />
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We sometimes detest the "family politics", which we many-a-times identify as a soap opera like drama. But this story, and many others like this makes me wonder. That drama is ever present everywhere. Sometimes it transforms itself into something we know as world politics. Our own mistakes, conditions, others' sometimes unmeant actions make these stories and claim lives. Whose fault is it? Then something happens, something snaps. The "unnaturality" of Bolanle, the insecurity of people whose own lives have not been well drawn arcs of justice but kind enough to let them build an almost comfortable and happy world out of it, make something happen.<br />
<br />
Segi almost died. Whose fault is it? Mama Segi's? Mama Femi's? Yes, they deserve punishment. But why they thought what they thought? Why they acted the way they acted? I personally am sometimes so obsessed with justice, and yes it is needed, but how just will be a sentence on these women? Would it respect the story and the life that lead to its pronouncement? And how promising or dangerous will be a pardon?<br />
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As the chapters go on, I wonder if this is a book or a soap-opera? You know the twists are coming and you still enjoy them. A known story which you relish for its drama discerning into the folds of human character in designed situations. They seem similar, but are not that much.<br />
I have hated those soap-operas all my life, but I am relishing this book and smacking my lips. Have I gone the way of that insane old lady that all predicted me to be one day!? :( I had thought I would be an <i><span style="color: #bf9000;">aantel</span></i>-er version of the old lady. Seems not.<br />
<br />
The characters seem to come to a well-predicted cliff, and to move ahead, they paid an intolerably sad and heavy price. But then they took their courses. Only Bolanle and Akin gave me hope at the end, the other endings seemed befitting to the story arcs, but... you wonder<br />
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This was a humorous book and a moving drama which is also very sad and challenging if you take human rights seriously. The good thing is that it doesn't blame anyone, but gives an impartial observation with kindness and amusement on what somewhere were the tragedies of life.<br />
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I definitely recommend this book. I will give it 4.4 stars(so 4 on goodreads and not 5). But <b><span style="color: #e06666;">do read it.</span></b> It is <i><span style="color: #a64d79;">a bit different. </span></i><br />
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There is supposed to be a play about this too. I hope I get to watch that someday.<br />
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<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">Happy reading! :)</span></b></div>
Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-9012527404594988122018-09-02T10:40:00.000-07:002018-09-02T10:40:16.559-07:00Loud chuckles with "We Go to the Gallery" by Ezra Elia and Miriam Elia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Jpm12-ngCbvhCcpM-dQl48z6iCFcDmzlCH_adTmzUhQrMF6XjorFtajN-N-qTDrjMw7T9nxJU2S7cWe5WzBaD9-R4v9Ujd_7GH-_3S4JXP3zE4GjV2y8ifZgDk8_lUEDnHzX2SO4Tr7H/s1600/wegotothegallery1.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" class="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Jpm12-ngCbvhCcpM-dQl48z6iCFcDmzlCH_adTmzUhQrMF6XjorFtajN-N-qTDrjMw7T9nxJU2S7cWe5WzBaD9-R4v9Ujd_7GH-_3S4JXP3zE4GjV2y8ifZgDk8_lUEDnHzX2SO4Tr7H/s320/wegotothegallery1.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/WE-GO-TO-THE-GALLERY/dp/0992834902"> "We Go to the Gallery" by Ezra Elia and Miriam Elia</a></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Is it a book? </span><br />
<br />
No. It is a<span style="color: #274e13;"> <b>fun DUNG BEETLE BOOK</b> </span>book. It is a <b><span style="color: #783f04;">very fun DUNG BEETLE BOOK</span></b> book. It is an <b><span style="color: #a64d79;">amazingly brilliantly funny DUNG BEETLE BOOK</span></b> book of pictures and art.<br /><br />Art and fun!? <i><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Ooooh... B-D</span></b></i><br /><br />Before you drag your kids through the contemporary and abstract(is it?) art galleries, as I might do in near future, please read this book.<br /><br />It will tell you why you should or not. <b><span style="color: #bf9000;">:P</span></b><br /><br />An ideal gift for expecting parents.<br /><br />I loved the creativity in putting the new words, especially- almost every set of new words made many senses and those might not make sense to your child as he/she is still just a child.<br /><br />For its brilliant funny creativity and making my self-conscious chuckles louder and louder(<span style="color: #e06666;"><i>ahem!</i>)</span>, I give this book <span style="color: #990000;"><b>full 5 stars</b></span>.<br />
<br /><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>Happy reading! :)</b></span><br /><br />P. S. I think I am quite liberal in my ratings and try to accept first and then inspect if that makes any sense! :P<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The death of meaning! :O (<a href="http://designcollector.net/likes/we-go-to-the-gallery">Source</a>)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<strike><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Period.</b></span></strike><br />
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Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-48664266466544246452018-08-24T14:45:00.000-07:002018-08-25T18:24:43.303-07:00A quick short review of 'The Woman in Black' by Susan Hill<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGHkM1GjuiA12rOWSkywEzbGaUCbcsb9uWdwUWcu9lUcubVaIfhd5_HDyxCPTL5zJeFmqYRQ7BszxY7nG5nOcjHZY_DEDWTbMn19vkjC_zQiNFtVXb7p4QhaSpIcxkgfNEJVXhavqa5rAS/s1600/thewomaninblack.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGHkM1GjuiA12rOWSkywEzbGaUCbcsb9uWdwUWcu9lUcubVaIfhd5_HDyxCPTL5zJeFmqYRQ7BszxY7nG5nOcjHZY_DEDWTbMn19vkjC_zQiNFtVXb7p4QhaSpIcxkgfNEJVXhavqa5rAS/s1600/thewomaninblack.jpg" /></a>The book is one of the few relatively modern engaging horror novels. It is not a psychological thriller, but being written from the point of view of the protagonist gives it a flavour if being so, and I really liked that about the book.<br />
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The plot isn't a GRRM styled one in terms of excruciating details and intricate plotlines but I didn't miss the presence of that element. Perhaps it could also have been written as a short story, though I liked the length of the book. It is not grotesque but delivers the senses of fear through the perceptive senses of a rational, and I would say brave human being and relates simple but powerful descriptions of the natural occurrences, though mostly unrelated in logic but in the essence of fear with the supernatural occurrences, I would argue. But as you reach the end of the book, you do understand the enormous danger in the subtleties of fear with a heartbreaking consequence and end which I was literally dreading. Why that had to happen!?<br />
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The book is not completely unsympathetic to the perpetrator of the horrors. She had a terribly distressed and sad life, and there is an understanding of that pain. <i><b>But understanding doesn't mean forgiveness or an open clearance to mad revenge and injustice.</b></i> (<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>On a completely different note, when I try to understand the workings of faith and religion this is the thing that I can never make understand both the parties- the ardent religious people and the hardcore atheists. Why, I wonder? May be there should be a little bit more patience in both the logical and illogical beings of the earth.</i></span>)<br />
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I liked Susan Hill's style and perhaps would read more of her now.<br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><b>I give this book 3.5 stars.</b></span><br />
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Happy reading! :)<br />
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P. S. I think I am quite liberal in my ratings and try to accept first and then inspect if that makes any sense! :P</div>
Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-69566945553172797932018-08-01T07:15:00.001-07:002018-08-01T07:20:16.768-07:00Musings on 'The Ice Dragon by G. R. R. Martin<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcTHhVIgRDC8lXSzcbh-d_DUiQEYkHvAv5wicVXKKNSqQb9uKYiKTrP53kMobowo-rvhUDxJiuxMOh1Tia7lWXtEH6oiGLrjFF37tcvwkXq4GoqsD2EEuA1E1o2XkcTCsRaPv_yS8O8xUu/s1600/icedragon.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcTHhVIgRDC8lXSzcbh-d_DUiQEYkHvAv5wicVXKKNSqQb9uKYiKTrP53kMobowo-rvhUDxJiuxMOh1Tia7lWXtEH6oiGLrjFF37tcvwkXq4GoqsD2EEuA1E1o2XkcTCsRaPv_yS8O8xUu/s1600/icedragon.jpg" /></a>A sweet little story, but a little different ending would have satisfied me more. I was expecting the ice dragon to <span style="color: #38761d;"><i>return to her someday</i></span>, healed, from the lands of always winter.<br />
<br />
She became a summer child! Why couldn't she be a laughing and crying(perhaps) winter child? <span style="color: #073763;"><i>Is it all metaphors or is it real? </i></span>Well, the song of ice and fire seems more real than this story of little Adara and her loving, faithful Ice dragon. <br />
<br />
I was wondering if she liked winter and the ice dragon more because it was the time her father hugged her?<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>Was it all because of the absence of any apparent love and care in summer, and it all returned when the shock of loss or fear jolted her senses and brought her back to her emotions?</i></span> Her feelings which were always deeply buried within her unknowingly from her fourth year when she had heard that conversation between uncle Hal and father and which now the fear of loss had finally let out on the surface?<br />
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Guess we will never know but will keep wondering...<br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><i>That's the beauty of a short story, isn't it?</i></span><br />
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I give this story <span style="color: #990000;"><b>three and a half stars</b></span>... :D<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">Dear void, happy reading! :)</span></b><br />
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Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-83753270673398610502018-07-09T17:22:00.001-07:002018-07-12T15:54:52.688-07:00Thoughts on 'Born a Crime' by Trevor Noah<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You can tell that this book is not written by a professional writer but by a BRILLIANT SPEAKER. (<span style="color: #073763;"><i>Am I being dramatic? Not the first time.</i></span>) It is AMAZING and you MUST read it. You can tell that the writer as a really honest descriptor. I love his perspective. It perhaps helps when you think critically without bias and find amusing some of the most horrible and saddest things that have ever happened in the course of the world history. Apartheid! From a child's point of view, and then an adult's.<br />
<br />
This time was barely two or three decades removed from now in the past, and today when we talk so much about the human rights violation on the internet, as here now, somewhere these things are still happening in one form or another. Some of the times I was reading I was amused and chuckling here and there (<span style="color: #073763;"><i>Hail the great comedian!</i></span>) but suddenly my eyes would tear up and the sadness remained. But still, I am not depressed. The best part of the perspective of Trevor Noah who indeed was <i>born a crime</i> is that in spite of the tragedies shaped up his life and which he writes (or in my head, speaks) of, he still had fun and you are still hopeful about the future.<br />
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Below I quote some of the most touching lines which sometimes stand on their own (<span style="color: #073763;"><i>for being wise or in other words plain T-shirt material :P</i></span>), and my feelings on them (<span style="color: #073763;"><i>not that they matter! But perhaps they do too! :/ </i></span>)<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01D8ZE2YS/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1053" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQRafDL1euI3esgllylZW5EZEZE258fH4XCUJ62hCOG_ovQPk1HCasnph-0qlLveGlTV-3El4iY1nmlL43X0WWzQtNOPgaSH6_VNWWevb4JpoYh6hUgBcM93j6qjLuoKspNukrF4a64ogv/s640/bornacrime.jpg" width="420" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01D8ZE2YS/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1">Born a crime by Trevor Noah</a></td></tr>
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“... <span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>It’s you and me against the world.</i></span> ...”<br />
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“...<span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i> I chose to have you because I wanted something to love and something that would love me unconditionally in return.</i> </span></span>...”<br />
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The bond that Trevor and his mom share with each other is endearing. He was there because his mother wanted someone to call her own, just her own. Beautiful, and strangely sad with the hint of a tinge of a smile, isn't it? I am amazed by the personality of his mother. What an amazing woman!<br />
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“... <span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>Why do all this? Why show him the world when he’s never going to leave the ghetto?” “Because,” she would say, “even if he never leaves the ghetto, he will know that the ghetto is not the world. If that is all I accomplish, I’ve done enough.</i></span> ...”<br />
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... <span style="color: #4c1130;">But I was blessed with another trait I inherited from my mother: her ability to forget the pain in life. I remember the thing that caused the trauma, but I don’t hold on to the trauma. I never let the memory of something painful prevent me from trying something new.</span> ...<br />
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... <span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>Being chosen is the greatest gift you can give to another human being.</i></span> ...<br />
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... <span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>It taught me that it is easier to be an insider as an outsider than to be an outsider as an insider. ... try being a black person who immerses himself in white culture while still living in the black community. Try being a white person who adopts the trappings of black culture while still living in the white community.</i></span> ...<br />
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I want to ask Trevor Noah about Teddy. What happened to him? What is he doing now? Where is he now? How did that incident affect him and Trevor's friendship - best friendship - with him?<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i><span style="color: black;">(</span>My goodness! Is it the story of his school or the story of a black market smuggling business!?</i></span><span style="color: #073763;"><i><span style="color: black;">)</span></i></span><br />
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... <span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>In society, we do horrible things to one another because we don’t see the person it affects. We don’t see their face. We don’t see them as people.</i></span> ...<br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><i><span style="color: #073763;"><i><span style="color: black;">(</span></i></span>What an amazing book! The truths of life, his observations- they make me cry and laugh with joy!</i></span><span style="color: #073763;"><i><span style="color: black;">)</span></i></span><br />
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... <span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>I chose to live in that world, but I wasn’t from that world. If anything, I was an imposter. Day to day I was in it as much as everyone else, but the difference was that in the back of my mind I knew I had other options. I could leave. They couldn’t.</i></span> ...<br />
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(<span style="color: #073763;"><i>It is amusing and funny, but heartbreaking at the same time. But the good thing is that it doesn't leave you with a sense of hopelessness.</i></span>)<br />
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... <span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>Because there were some black parents who’d actually do that, not pay their kid’s bail, not hire their kid a lawyer—the ultimate tough love. But it doesn’t always work, because you’re giving the kid tough love when maybe he just needs love. You’re trying to teach him a lesson, and now that lesson is the rest of his life.</i></span> ...<br />
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... <span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>But I remember standing there watching my mom, flabbergasted, horrified that these cops wouldn’t help her. That’s when I realized the police were not who I thought they were. They were men first, and police second.</i></span> ...<br />
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... <span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>It is so easy, from the outside, to put the blame on the woman and say, “You just need to leave.” It’s not like my home was the only home where there was domestic abuse. It’s what I grew up around. I saw it in the streets of Soweto, on TV, in movies. Where does a woman go in a society where that is the norm? When the police won’t help her? When her own family won’t help her? Where does a woman go when she leaves one man who hits her and is just as likely to wind up with another man who hits her, maybe even worse than the first? Where does a woman go when she’s single with three kids and she lives in a society that makes her a pariah for being a manless woman? Where she’s seen as a whore for doing that? Where does she go? What does she do?</i></span> ...<br />
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(<span style="color: #073763;"><b><i>And the gold!</i></b></span>)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLDOHjuhCm_k3LD6A8kWtSEyDdq5fhpN0EYzWFWsVrjW31OGQoQMWmwS5elaHGHo6-3yKNZPebTCV_TUT4f59OsIN0L-9h4bxO0pqC7Qynh622eY6LN7t_7b88PB21jLOGHLN8JvoJNHzI/s1600/bornacrime2.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="473" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLDOHjuhCm_k3LD6A8kWtSEyDdq5fhpN0EYzWFWsVrjW31OGQoQMWmwS5elaHGHo6-3yKNZPebTCV_TUT4f59OsIN0L-9h4bxO0pqC7Qynh622eY6LN7t_7b88PB21jLOGHLN8JvoJNHzI/s400/bornacrime2.jpg" width="368" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trevor Noah with his mom<br />
Courtesy: <a href="https://www.sowetanlive.co.za/entertainment/2018-02-23-trevors-mother-elated-over----movie/">Sowetan Live</a></td></tr>
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... <b><span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>People say all the time that they’d do anything for the people they love. But would you really? Would you do anything? Would you give everything? I don’t know that a child knows that kind of selfless love. A mother, yes. A mother will clutch her children and jump from a moving car to keep them from harm. She will do it without thinking. But I don’t think the child knows how to do that, not instinctively. It’s something the child has to learn.</i></span></b> ...<br />
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<u><span style="color: #4c1130;"><i>For my mother. My first fan. Thank you for making me a man. </i></span></u><br />
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His narrative had made me understand an aspect of apartheid which my history books failed to teach me. I know it was slavery and racism of the 20th century, but I didn't still know what it actually was and was capable of. Hailing from a developing country myself, some instances are too familiar and so are some imprints of a fair-skinned rule even almost a century after freedom, and the inherent racism that we accept even though we were the victims.<br />
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I <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>LOVED</b></span> this book, and would recommend everyone to read it, even the not-so-voracious readers! It's frankness and the ability to try to keep moving forward provides you with not only a much-desired understanding somewhere but also gives you hope and a lot of chuckling smirks (that make you wise, eh!? :P )!<br />
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<b>I give this book <span style="color: #cc0000;">FULL FIVE STARS! :D</span></b><br />
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Happy reading! :)<br />
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Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-4082538126125658962018-06-16T18:26:00.000-07:002018-06-16T19:09:08.006-07:00Musings & review on "Siddhartha" by Hermann Heese<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Musings while reading...</h4>
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<i>"Siddhartha had one single goal - to become empty, to become empty of thirst, desire, dreams, pleasure and sorrow - to let the self die. No longer to be self, to experience the peace of an emptied heart, to experience pure thought - that was his goal. When all the self was conquered and dead, when all passions and desires were silent, then the last must awaken, the innermost of being that is no longer self - the great secret."</i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Ksb7EkgqFwBG3_RsXlp3F8q5ylRzBybC5CaKzDwY0-87Uo3dPafotCu-Vdi99hhW4D64tCUEp50z5H4Z_5njK0aA1trrPpgLvjxecWawY8x6_MNMvkCWHr54-UGgpsdNJIEwhamMp6w9/s1600/Siddhartha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="325" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Ksb7EkgqFwBG3_RsXlp3F8q5ylRzBybC5CaKzDwY0-87Uo3dPafotCu-Vdi99hhW4D64tCUEp50z5H4Z_5njK0aA1trrPpgLvjxecWawY8x6_MNMvkCWHr54-UGgpsdNJIEwhamMp6w9/s640/Siddhartha.jpg" width="416" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Siddhartha-Hermann-Hesse/dp/0141189576/ref=pd_lpo_sbs_14_img_0?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1&refRID=PB8TC7GVFY5S64094AKV" target="_blank">Siddhartha by Hermann Heese</a></td></tr>
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(<span style="color: #0b5394;">At page 21 now</span>)- An ideal student Siddhartha (<span style="color: #0b5394;">not one lost like me</span>) but an essentially discontented one (<span style="color: #0b5394;">just like me</span>) goes out to discover the great secret- to conquer self and discover the innermost being, the<span style="color: #0b5394;"> <span style="color: black;"><i>aatma</i></span></span>, that is no longer self- detached from pain, need, desire, anything human (<span style="color: #0b5394;">perhaps!</span>). He becomes a <i>Samana</i> and finds that the path he is following will never converge to his goal. (<span style="color: #0b5394;">happens all the time, isn't it?</span>) His ardent friend, Govinda, on whose mediocrity of thought was he quite sure of, surprises him. Siddhartha overpowers his own guru by the virtues taught by that experienced man - (<span style="color: #0b5394;">basically hypnotising- the idea doesn't rhyme with me</span>) and then the seeker and his follower go forth on a path which the seeker thinks is a way no new hope will come but the follower is eager in pursuing. They try to find what everybody is talking of. Will they find Gautama? And what will happen when they do?</div>
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(<span style="color: #0b5394;">I know all this what Siddhartha seeks- it's so repetitive - then why am I still intent upon reading it? - May be something will come of it - such ideas pull me - why? Where? I know not.</span> Cheesy, eh! <span style="color: #073763;">~ 01.49 am, June 29, 2017</span>)<br />
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<h4 style="text-align: left;">
A review...</h4>
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I had read this book almost a year ago. To be honest, it did not resonate with me that much. So much talk about nirvana, the goal, <i>aatma</i>! I am an Indian. I grew up with these ideas from both Hinduism, Buddhism as well as different interpretations from a Muslim or a Christian point of view. They, when spoken so much about, almost seem redundant. I had heard so much about this book, especially from non-Indian readers in Goodreads that I was really disappointed while reading it. Too much of philosophical talks sometimes seem futile. After almost 67 years after it was written, the end is the predictable. I felt a little annoyed by the protagonist of this book. I am sorry if it sounds judgemental, but this book is a perfect stereotypical viewof a western mindset's amusement and excitement with the "<i>aatma</i>" ideologies of the eastern subcontinent.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Siddhartha-Hermann-Hesse/dp/0141189576/ref=pd_lpo_sbs_14_img_0?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1&refRID=PB8TC7GVFY5S64094AKV" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="306" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWs3nfFu18skzaIhyxwi-N-8mba9-ZEHH0Uy_XJT8VgZ2byQNjINgY6R1qMsQb94l6WVItNBs02WiOa_IWV6Mf1gW23JMISCcg-dzlK_2yZBMrCU3m5ljyPs0xN6SWEY4mv-7L2SQ2biEk/s640/sid.jpg" width="388" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Siddhartha-Hermann-Hesse/dp/0141189576/ref=pd_lpo_sbs_14_img_0?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1&refRID=PB8TC7GVFY5S64094AKV" target="_blank">A classic by Hermann Heese</a></td></tr>
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Some of the paragraphs stand out independently, which adds to the value of the book a lot. But the stiched into the story, the first half of the narrative seems superfluous. The writer ponders on and onn and onnn, and unlike Henry James' it made me a little impatient. The ideas are deep, very philosophical in nature but with a protagonist who is lost. It seems he is trying to be lost in his quest. His logic sometimes is crisp and intelligent and sometimes "uh!". I really don't identify with him many-a-times. He sometimes seems too full of himself to appreaciate the simplicity of a situation. Flesh is flesh, blood is blood- so why beat about the bush and not accept? He takes the twisted path even when the straight path stares right him in the face. Why? True, we do that in life many-a-times but again the instances used to exemplify that seems a bit overstretched. May be all of this is because there is a gap of half a century's shift in ideologies of the writer and me. Too much of spirituality is perhaps lost on a physics student. But there are a few things I also love about the character SiddharthaHe is fearless to ask. His confidence (sometimes overconfidence, maybe) is appreciable. He dares to take a path which no one has ever taken. He dares to challenge the unchallengable, and he finds his own way.<br />
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Those who find wisdom in this book probably look for their appearance as the novel enters its second half - the life of Siddhartha as a ferryman. He learns the same things, the same truth which somehow seems to be staring into his face from a long time and which he refused to identify or mistook for something else. But maybe that final "enlightment" and acceptance has something to do with age and finding what he couldn't before and which he almost forgot about. Now, I am sounding too vague! If this book is kind of a coming-of-age story of a soul, it is maybe a little sad from my perspective. I realte to Sid ( :P ) more when he is older, little bit calmer, and I appreciate that even when he forgot who he was, deep down he never gave up.<br />
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Concluding, it was a very different book. Made me wonder and appreciate and roll my eyes at the same but different moments, but I am glad that I read it. Perhaps, you should too. I kind of pushed my comfort zone with it, and gained a little uncomfortable reading experience which I think for some reason is a good thing. I perhaps would have loved this narrative, if this were a short story and not a novel. It is not as crisp as I want it to be, but who cares! Who knows, maybe half a century from now I will find it perfectly plausible.<br />
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I give this classic by Hermann Heese (<span style="color: #0b5394;">sorry for being so daring, but it is dear old Sid, isn't it? ;) </span>), <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>three-and-a-half stars</b></span>! <b><span style="color: #cc0000;">:\</span></b><br />
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Happy reading! :)</div>
Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-5120833941515125522017-08-08T09:29:00.003-07:002017-08-11T09:53:45.044-07:00A solitary sunset...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b>T</b>here comes a moment</span> in your life in which you understand how alone you are. There is practically no one for you. Parents will always be there, but being a generation apart sometimes they fail to understand and some<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> other time<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">s</span></span> you don't want to burden them with the anchors that are pulling you down. You have many "<i>best friends</i>" whom you tag or wish on friendship day or even call a sibling based on your "<i>connection</i>", but who are basically for photographical preservation and will always have a small excuse<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> for</span> not answering back when you need them the most. The person who thought you loved, basically was a figment of imagination impersonated by another soul so unlike the one you loved, and deceived by your own dreams; or<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> one who </span>just <i>deserted</i> you. The loves, friendships you thought were there, were actually never that deep, and in your own standards never existed thus. At night, when you can't sleep and are having scary live dreams about various possibilities, it is at mos<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>t </i></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>a pen and a paper</i></span> </span>that can come to your rescue. Friendless. Loveless. You are now so low and flat on your back that you can't even look down upon yourself in pity. <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">What do you do then?</span></i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In this fast, <i>urban</i>, <i>independent</i> life that we have made for ourselves there are so many of us who have felt like this some one time, at least, in their life. Being intelligent people, we have found our <i>ways out</i>. Some dive into chasms of work that keeps this feeling of abandonement<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> and</span> of hurt at bay. Some become vagabonds, struck with a false sense of wanderlust, trying to get away from the memory of th<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">ose</span> unrealised, haunting dreams they perhaps can never escape from until confronted and won over and even winning seems a loss, and painful then. <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">S</span>ome poor souls are <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">even drowned</span>. And though some do emerge out again, stronger, and perhaps more detached to initiate that effect from the world outside, many don't. Even those who manage to overcome, some do find happiness again whereas for many others <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>the definitons change</i></span>. Now they are no longer seeking what they once were. Even if the institutions remain the same, destinations change. And perhaps that is necessary too. <i>Isn't it</i>, my dear void? Can you<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i> reassure</i> </span>me?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI3awlKb6wGLNhvSbfWRMdEJgjCNAIiLhl8XhsuCcAseBR1CTuOToK9sNZ1cxrQDZtlufAAnQt2Uuqn9Sb6760YYeYEeBNKxrJj0PFxK2xG5TLf4UVLQz1mgXVMA7XROgOHa6PAe7DDLe2/s1600/this.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI3awlKb6wGLNhvSbfWRMdEJgjCNAIiLhl8XhsuCcAseBR1CTuOToK9sNZ1cxrQDZtlufAAnQt2Uuqn9Sb6760YYeYEeBNKxrJj0PFxK2xG5TLf4UVLQz1mgXVMA7XROgOHa6PAe7DDLe2/s640/this.JPG" title="A solitary sunset... (Photo by Debalina Banerjee)" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have seen so many stories unfolding like that. It used to make me so sad how pain can change people. But when it happened <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">to</span> me I wasn't exactly unwelcoming. Change is perhaps necessary too. That is the difference between being a child and an adult - to be <i>welcoming</i> for such a change. We always have to pay a price for everything, even for a small amount of air <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">we</span> catch in our lungs. Sometimes we loose things which were once our heart and soul. We had our faults, our own book of errata and some really hurtful injustices. But they were out of our control or may be of the person we are trying to blame. <i>And life doesn't stop, change doesn't stop</i>. <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Either we move on with the flow, or be buried under the shifting sands of the desert.</i></span> Which one we choose, is our intelligence and some hormones controlling a phenomenon we call our 'wish'.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In this ever changing world, everything is so strange, so difficult, yet so beautiful. I love the ocean. It is deep. It's silent roar on a full moon makes <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">me</span> wonder about life, makes <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">me</span> cry. Why is everything as it is? Why not more? Why not less? When you have lost a thing, you aspire to find it again in its depths, not knowing ever if you will or if your search will ever end. I was standing at this sunset whose photo you see, laughed as the waves greeted me - friendly and caressing; but as they receded <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">I felt the sand beneath my feet <span style="color: #0b5394;">leaving the shore</span></span></i>. I was loosing my balance and my own earth. Should I go and search in vain <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">for</span> the lost in the ocean? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I didn't. Fear <i>or</i> wisdom? Loneliness <i>or</i> solitude? I did not know, I do not yet. I just sat at the bank, dra<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">ined the noises out</span> and looked at the sunset, <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>the hauntingly beautiful sunset</i></span>.</span></div>
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Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-70337635216101744482017-05-21T13:48:00.001-07:002017-05-22T00:50:57.829-07:00"Olalla" by Robert Louis Stevenson - Book review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A great gothic novella by Robert Louis Stevenson on a weekend!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture Courtesy: <a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61CDI6g7tvL.jpg" target="_blank">Amazon</a></td></tr>
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Before starting, while I was going through the reviews on Goodreads many people gave it only a single star complaining about a disappointing climax and weak hints of <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Vampirism</i></span>. I was a bit wary thus. But for the first time, I have a completely different experience than the first three reviews I read of the book on Goodreads suggested, and I really liked it.</div>
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For a fellow escapist of the tropical heat as I am, the story blithely takes you to the picturesque mountains of a long lost untouched <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Spanish countryside</i></span> being described through the eyes of a rational English gentleman of good senses. The story sits on the borderline of being a complete <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>gothic horror</i></span> unlike Beam Stocker's Dracula and a more human touch is given to those whom we deem inhuman- <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>incestuous ancestry</i></span> and <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>superstition</i></span> are hinted to argue with their own set of logics. I really like this aspect of Stevenson's idea of a story dealing with Vampirism or merely animalistic behavior as some might argue dating back to 1885. This banished family of <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>lost aristocracy</i></span> and surreal similarity in facial features through generations are not complete brutes and heartless beasts and are not burned on touching the cross as happens on most gothic horrors written even today's after almost 200 years of Count Dracula. The neighbouring 'kirktons' are ever wary of the evil that bodes there in the perishing castle amidst the mountains and have a very medieval attitude and that, sitting at this age of reason in the 21st century, make you feel really bad for <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Olalla</i></span>, Felipe and their 'unbalanced' mother.</div>
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One can see the magic of Robert Louis Stevenson's writing as the climax draws to a close. In a world still not that 'scientific', the ending is plausible. I would have perhaps brought a few experts to Olalla today but sadly in 1885, sitting in a war-torn Europe, that would have been too much of an overstatement. All was well, only I found the sudden overwhelming love of the narrator for Olalla defying his usual air of being reasonable. But such is <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>gothic fiction</i></span>! So, let's learn if deal with it and savour the great writing of Stevenson that plays minds with words and created tremors with it.</div>
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I give this novella/short story(being still unclear, which?)<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b> full 4 stars! :)</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: black;">This would also make for a great <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>play</i></span> or a <i>short TV movie</i>, so watch out for those good ones you find online and otherwise.</span><b> </b></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #073763;">Happy reading! :)</span></b></div>
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Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-16892751286689310932017-02-09T06:14:00.001-08:002017-02-09T06:14:02.392-08:00Book Review : Death under the Deodars by Ruskin Bond<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZpN1U2mKy4vXP9EJ1Pmzcd_mKNKRVDvtXmC43xoBNIURG_p_1ors6ggXBijAZmksO4AdymdKUCLgKMakc2udWkY77xxl3N5ALWmKaE6ZCwyUpgMAViAH8CIezr_pO34Pz4CsJek6s5bp8/s1600/death+deodar+rusty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZpN1U2mKy4vXP9EJ1Pmzcd_mKNKRVDvtXmC43xoBNIURG_p_1ors6ggXBijAZmksO4AdymdKUCLgKMakc2udWkY77xxl3N5ALWmKaE6ZCwyUpgMAViAH8CIezr_pO34Pz4CsJek6s5bp8/s640/death+deodar+rusty.jpg" width="420" /></a>Finally a new Ruskin Bond this new year!<br /><br /><i><span style="color: #351c75;">"The night has a thousand eyes<br />And the day but one<br />Yet the light of the bright world dies<br />With the dying sun."</span></i><br />The book was published in October 2016 and I read it today. And yes, Rusty is back! Back with a bang!<br /><br />There has never been any doubt about the goodness of Ruskin Bond's fiction, but I have never read anything so deep in this genre by him. Crime, thriller, paranormal, murders of passion or out of pure evil - a long tired list of topics people try to popularize their novels, stories with, most of the times the trials being honest may be, but disappointing. I was slightly skeptical of what this genre might feel like, but the outcome was lovely.<br /><br />Ruskin Bond has always maintained an image of Mussoorie - a scandalous and promiscuous town sitting in the beautiful lap of the Garhwal Himalayas. This book, nevertheless, is a living epitome of fiction that will sew in your mind deeper threads of such an impression through the experiences of Miss Ripley Bean. Starting from the 1920s and continuing till around 1970s(perhaps), the stories are enchanting. They are the light-reads as Ruskin Bond is famous for but thrilling and captivating. And those readers who have sunk deep in this genre, do not be scared. The endings are not predictable. Rusty manages to surprise us.<br /><br />Aunt May is no Miss Marple but can be her younger sister who gathers material for her and sometimes makes a good call regarding impending judgments. She intelligently guesses what might be happening and how the thread of reason is seeped into the human psychology and their daily natures and preferences. Her observations are light, easy, confident and at peace with herself sometimes even to the extent of being lazy mainly because that is a second nature to her. Her attitude, perspective give you a glimpse of the life in hills during her time and maintains Rusty's perspective that we have known all through these years in a most amusing and new way.<br /><br />The nature lovers will not miss the beautiful descriptions of flowers and the hills, but one who is reading only for that you will be disappointed. But nonetheless, give it a try. This book is worth your time. And the Rusty fans, rejoice! :)<br />
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I give Ruskin Bond's "Death under the Deodars" <b><span style="color: #cc0000;">full 5 stars</span></b>! <span style="color: #274e13;"><b>:D</b></span><br />
(No surprise there! <b><span style="color: #cc0000;">:D</span></b> )<br />
<br /><b><span style="color: #741b47;">Happy reading! :)</span></b><br /><br />
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Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-64215394555953288052016-12-17T01:28:00.004-08:002016-12-19T02:22:11.542-08:00Book Review : Complete Nonsense by Edward Lear<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Throughout my idea of Lear was - a Children's Limerick writer! From what I had read about his life, that made sense. He wrote those five-lined rhyming poems for the children of his patron Edward Stanley, the 13th Earl of Derby. After reading this compilation however, that view of mine has changed considerably! This book has the following parts and along with my reactions are listed under : <br />
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<b><span style="color: #38761d;">1. A Book of Nonsense - √ :) :D</span></b><br />
(Ha-ha-ha!!!)<br />
I had read this volume earlier separately and it is a joyride. Funny! A nice book for children and adults alike. You can also learn about certain pronunciations you did wrong earlier by rhyming along.<br />
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<b><span style="color: #741b47;">2. More Nonsense - √ :D :)</span></b><br />
(More ha-ha-ha!!!)<br />
Funny, weirder and funny! His <b><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><i>neologisms</i></span></b> (words not accepted in mainstream literature, but have some popular use of various kinds) are amazing to read aloud, and today many are dictionary words!<br />
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06;">3. Nonsense songs - √ :) :D</span></b><br />
(Ha-ha-ha. :\ What?!? Oh! Ha!)<br />
I was a fan of <i>Jumblies</i> and their sieve for quite some time; and they, along with <i>Quangle-Wangles, Pobbles, </i>are Lear's reappearing heroes. Lear's nonsense songs were once so famous that some phrases became a part of mainstream literature expressions. An example is the "Owl and the Pussy Cat" 's '<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><i>runcible spoon</i></span></b>'!<br />
<span style="background-color: #ffe599;"><i>"<span style="background-color: #f1c232;">They dined on mince, and slices of quince </span></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f1c232;"><i>Which they ate with a runcible spoon;</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f1c232;"><i>And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f1c232;"><i>They danced by the light of the moon,</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f1c232;"><i>The moon,</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f1c232;"><i>The moon,</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f1c232;"><i>They danced by the light of the moon."</i></span><br />
But not all songs are as nonsensical as the poems are. Some are based on "<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>reductio ad absurdum</i></span></span></b>" (reduction to absurdity) where an argument disproves a statement by
showing its compulsive absurd
conclusion. This shows the range of literary forms Lear used in his writings, and did best.<br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">4. Nonsense stories and alphabets - √ :) :D</span></b><br />
(The first story is okay : typical Lear. <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>BUT</b></span> the second : Really <span style="color: #cc0000;">disturbing!</span><br />
The parents teach children not to so some things, which they do and all the children of seven families die in weird and even grotesque ways. Perhaps the motivation was to teach the children a lesson of how important it it to listen to your parents. But this way seems strange! And then the parents starve themselves and make a pickle of themselves and are now kept in a museum!!! It is eerie!<br />
What was Lear thinking writing these?<br />
They are nonsensical sure, as promised but the sense of humor is very dark and not at all suited for children. It will be disturbing to them, as per myself. <br />
This broke my perception of Lear!<br />
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><b>5. Nonsense alphabets - √ :) :D</b></span><br />
(Perfect for teaching infants!)<br />
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<b><span style="color: #674ea7;">6. Nonsense cookery - √ :) :D</span></b><br />
(What does he mean? :P )<br />
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<b><span style="color: #bf9000;">7. The Heraldic Blazon of Foss the Cat - √ :) :D</span></b><br />
(Hail Foss! <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>_/\_</b></span> )<br />
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In this collection, the type of humor ranges from typical silly, children's to really dark humor and literary devices used very aptly. The range I had imagined Lear was set in has been made vast considerably after reading this collection. The variety presented in this particular genre is phenomenal. It is a really good read for limerick lovers and Lear fans.<br />
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I give Complete Nonsense by Edward Lear <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>4 stars</b></span>! :)<br />
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Happy reading! <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>:)</b></span></div>
Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-57412120962871256682016-12-13T08:02:00.001-08:002016-12-13T08:02:39.305-08:00Book Review : The adventures of Tintin in the Land of the Soviets<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I wonder what communist fans think of this book! <b><span style="color: #cc0000;">:P</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKddJBNrnMLr4vN3rRbGjkM9vwdj5sHJJOcEFDtC9tFZryezvD5FXf_dvs3GxI6w7ZWRUdfl_NpcI6MKOqteDwD_QoFfW8IwVAMsZXLX8Q0fTzL0DRYFVQo3TJHGgwv_EipXst729ATxtz/s1600/cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKddJBNrnMLr4vN3rRbGjkM9vwdj5sHJJOcEFDtC9tFZryezvD5FXf_dvs3GxI6w7ZWRUdfl_NpcI6MKOqteDwD_QoFfW8IwVAMsZXLX8Q0fTzL0DRYFVQo3TJHGgwv_EipXst729ATxtz/s400/cover.jpg" width="280" /></a>But a
Hergé is always a delight to read, right?<br />
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Reading the first book after the more
refined later ones gives you an idea of how the prolific cartoonist
progressed in his genre where he is an epic. The typical storyline and Hergé-framework exists there
from the very first book, as it seems, which has also framed the blue-prints of the comics that came later with the same structure, albeit certain nuances changed and
some characteristics changed considerably.<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">:D</span></b> Later,
Hergé was better with the correctness of his some scientific
descriptions and was also known for his scientific accuracy, though Tintin almost always
gets such impossible feats done, and perhaps that is why he is loved so
much.<br />
For one the characters are
drawn differently. They are also very right-wing, though it was so in other books but here the shades of sentiments are more hued. It gives you a perspective of
the time they were drawn which is perhaps the year 1929. But Tintin
does some impossible jobs while employed as a reporter like mending a
leaking petrol tank on an aeroplane while being its pilot! <br />
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Being the first book of the series, it was in black-and-white, and it is said that Hergé never gave permission to publish it in color. There are also a very limited number of copies of this book. So, it is an absolute must-read for all Tintin fans out there, and a collectible of a great value.<br />
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I give this book <b><span style="color: #cc0000;">3 out of 5 stars! :)</span></b><br />
<br /><b><span style="color: #073763;">Happy reading! :)
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Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-18568813190180990652016-08-25T11:09:00.004-07:002016-08-25T11:18:36.811-07:00Is it a book? The Kolkata Official Adda Book 1!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I don't know if it is review-able or not! Or even if it is actually a book! But whatever may be the genre, I absolutely loved it! Its a definite collectible if you love Kolkata, know Kolkata and still love Kolkata, sometimes are disgusted by Kolkata and still prefer to live in Kolkata! :)<br />
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This is the 'Kolkata Official Adda book 1'. <i>'Adda'</i> means 'leisurely conversations', but I am sorry! It ain't a proper definition Charlie! Let me explain...<br />
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Me, my best friend, his pre-school friend whom I had never met until today, my uncle, his son, his girlfriend, her best friend, my parents, my best-friend's parents, my grandfather all are by some chance are together in our <i>'baithak-khana'</i> (drawing room) and the <i>Bangali</i>'s <i>bangaliyana</i> starts!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pic. <a href="http://www.starmark.in/starmark-kolkata-official-adda-book-st-044564_692289.html" target="_blank">Kolkata Official Adda Book 1</a></td></tr>
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Can you somewhere identify with that? Even if your are a <i>Lucknowi</i>, or an <i>aamchi Mumbaikar</i>, a Greek or any human tribe practised in the art of leisurely 'adda'? Yes, this is <i>'adda'</i>! And you, if you are in love with Kolkata, will identify with this. If not, its a treasure for a prospective tourist.<br />
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Do you go back to the nostalgic spirit when you again see a page of <i>'sandesh'</i> (not the sweet, but <i>Manik da</i>'s magazine!)? </div>
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And <i>Manik da</i>? You prefer him to Satyajit Ray, right?</div>
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Sukumar Sen- the mathematician turned civil-servant, who designed and
supervised independent India's first ever general elections. Did you
know about him? No? Are you agonised that people don't know his name
even though moments before you had never heard of him? Yes? </div>
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Does the new year's eve customary <i>'Nahoum and sons'</i>, a necessity for the upcoming year to be pleasant for you? Does that lingering aroma waters your mouth now as you think of it? Do you wish <i>Frispo</i>'s was back? Yes? </div>
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<div style="text-align: right;">
Do you say, "<i>ektu side deben</i>" even in metro instead of "excuse me"? Yes?</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Do you still think that the Delhi, and now the Mumbai, Bangalore metro rails are not <span style="color: #cc0000;"><i>'authentic'</i></span> enough, and are in love with the single-occupancy window seats of the musical Girish Park trams? Yes?</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Most yes-es? Yes? Okay. Then this book or diary or book that looks like a diary, is a collectible you must have. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
It's true that I- the so called reviewer is overtly romantic, but I am a <i>'Calcatian'</i> in love with both Calcutta and Kolkata. So, can't help it.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
And lastly, I once said this exact line to a friend of mine who scoffed and made faces. If you have read till here, I don't think you will do it too. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Kolkata is a feeling, not just a city. You don't just grow in this city. Slowly, this city grows on you."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">Enough said. Now read. Hallelujah!</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">And yes, I give 'The Kolkata Official Adda Book 1' <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>full five stars<span style="color: black;">!</span></b></span> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>Happy reading! :) </b></span> </span></div>
</div>
Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-30512480794196751792016-08-25T10:33:00.000-07:002016-12-01T09:02:21.067-08:00A lone diner<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sitting alone<br />
in ABCOS Food Plaza<br />
I wonder<br />
how blissful<br />
is solitude!<br />
<br />
A woman<br />
in aquamarine<br />
a mother-<br />
middle-aged,<br />
a wife;<br />
Her years<br />
of domesticity<br />
settled<br />
and pleasantly ripe.<br />
<br />
I am awkward<br />
as she<br />
is joined<br />
by family<br />
and friends-<br />
all together<br />
happier<br />
and fairer,<br />
while I<br />
write these<br />
self-consoling lines<br />
in ABCOS Food Plaza<br />
:a wannabe loner.<br />
<br />
<i>Solitude here</i><br />
<i>-a choice? </i><br />
<br />
Then there are<br />
four gentlemen.<br />
While collar,<br />
blackberry<br />
and sherry;<br />
politics, office(?)<br />
school system,<br />
rainy days <br />
and<br />
sewer maintenance!<br />
<br />
While sitting<br />
in a quiet corner<br />
I wonder<br />
again... <br />
Solitude here<br />
-a choice?<br />
Will I ever<br />
share<br />
a world,<br />
a home <br />
they agnize?<br />
<br />
I'll go back<br />
from ABCOS Food Plaza.<br />
But where?<br />
Whom<br />
will I ask<br />
to dine<br />
with me?<br />
(at least once<br />
every day...)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-92043611117750180262016-07-31T10:11:00.000-07:002016-08-10T04:48:18.861-07:00Book Review - "Volga se Ganga" by Rahul Sankrityayan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Oh! What a book! The writer is brilliant! Simply brilliant! This idea of presenting the history of Indian civilization coming from Aryans, then getting mixed with the 'Asuras' and finally maturing into a more contemporary outlook in the form of twenty short stories is just genius, brilliant, all superlatives! I read this book 'Volga se Ganga' by Rahul Sankrityayan in Hindi, the language it was originally written in 1942; the hindi being purer, our 'hinglish' generation, alas, will be a bit slow in reading. This is a book that unfolds more and you read it again. It is a cult and its eminence is a history in itself. It has been translated to English, Bengali, Russian, Malayalam, Telugu, Polish, Chinese and so many other languages. So the review is going to be heavy and lengthy one and this time I will not apologize for that. :)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp5alQVIKnnMoWnGR4G4UkTxop6lVoy5OncAfRUbGTCdbneHl1YaamKEf__9m9ffJ-KvajEiCRUj9wj0whh2a290bFy2jW_37avsYd4SIF57sBCvf2VS-Q0WuJ275w3KifiPIdLyyrTbs_/s1600/IMG_20160713_173245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp5alQVIKnnMoWnGR4G4UkTxop6lVoy5OncAfRUbGTCdbneHl1YaamKEf__9m9ffJ-KvajEiCRUj9wj0whh2a290bFy2jW_37avsYd4SIF57sBCvf2VS-Q0WuJ275w3KifiPIdLyyrTbs_/s640/IMG_20160713_173245.jpg" width="411" /></a></div>
The book specializes in presenting "point of views". Rahul Sankrityayan basically paints various timelines and landscapes while drawing the graph of the development of Indian civilization. He does it from the aspects of various characters true to their race, class, creed, sex and their time. The ideas of equality, justice, the conflict in judgement arising from how what is shown differs from what actually is, how politics of lust and power frames the history, where it wins and when and how it looses make the central theme of this book. And we practically see how ideals, notions, superstitions evolve over time to become a much stronger part of the civilization, completely detached from its roots but still retaining a touch if you scratch the surface.<br />
<br />
<br />
Rahul Sankrityayan was famous for being an excellent scholar of languages, histories and mythologies; an ardent traveller whose aim of travel was understanding and knowledge. His writings are said to be well researched. Even though I haven't verified its authenticity completely, but when there is imagination in the very art of presenting history, personal opinion may abut the content and tinge the glass we are looking through. True! But still, for novices and history-insinceres (like me), and so I have heard for many elites of the history culture as well, this book a gem. You will, if you are an Indian or know of the Indian culture, will visibly see the past carnivals hold the seed of the society as it is today.<br />
<br />
<br />
The thing I like about this book is that even though it talks through perspectives and opinions, its characters are not always anti-slavery, anti-racism but real, true to their ideas, intentions and necessities as people in a dynamic society are. Through them, you get to know how religion shaped the society, how brahmins-kshatriyas came to be 'gau-mata-poojak's from downright carnivorous society who consumed even pigs and horses, how races got mixed and what were the dynamics of that, how slavery from being a well hated concept came to be accepted and why that happened and how. I have read this book in Hindi which makes me sad as to why our so ferocious Hindu 'gau-hatya' haters have not read this book yet (Well most of them claim to be learned 'ved-pandits')!<br />
<br />
<br />
It starts with blue-eyed, blonde haired Aryans settled near Volga in Caucasia in about 6000 BC. People were living in small clans, the society was matriarchal and hunting and incest were the basis of a family or a clan. Then sizes of nomadic clans began to grow, and the oldest blueprint of a human society was formed. Going back to 4500 years before, I think imagination plays a major role in drafting these stories. But the research is attributed to the "<i>Origin of family private property and State</i>" by Engels. Then we move towards the Himalayan mountain ranges. A bigger fraternity was a stronger alternative for survival, but along with came the vices as well. We see the birth of a position called 'indra'- the chosen leader, the strongest fighter and the supreme judge who acted for the people. Perhaps the idea of the Hindu god 'indra' was inspired from this!<br />
<br />
The next stories trace the complete dynamics of how the reluctant diffusion of Aryans, Asuras(brown-skinned Northern Indians) and 'Solas'(the dark-skinned Southern Indians) created the race we Indians are today. This part of the book is said to be relying on the information from vedas, upanishads, ramayana, mahabharata, puranas and writings of some well known ancient names like Kalidasa, Banbhatta and so on. The 'brahmin' and 'a-brahmin' difference was once based on color. Then 'brahmin's used to be the educated and the fighter class. Further, the upper strata disintegrated into 'kshatriyas' and 'brahmins', the fighters and the 'acharyas'- the so called intellectual elite, the power holders. Slavery, untouchability whose 'authenticity' is claimed by 'hindu pandits' to be rooted in the great Indian 'mahakavya's were basically ideas drafted on payment by an "ashthan kavi"(poet of the court) of a king's or a rich man's court with the interest of glorifying the payer and keeping his power within his grip. The strata of women was now gutted down the drains and they were now mere objects of pleasure and no more than that. Slaves were traded as objects. Women slaves of a household were also part time pleasure objects along with being a servant, and their trade, inspite of the so-revered marital or birth status otherwise, remained unaffected by that.<br />
<br />
<br />
While reading this part I was wondering if the present acharyas of Banaras or elsewhere even know of this history? Once, as these were being done, people perhaps knew the origins of these hypocrisies. But today, these are so well dissolved in our veins in terms of our 'reet-rivaaz' that damage conspired a thousand years ago still refuses to loosen its grip in the name of religion.<br />
<br />
<br />
Then we arrive at the pre-contemporary and contemporary time lines of the history. Here we can easily judge the author for we are more aware of this part of the history than the previous ones. These last six stories start with prodding the time of the Mughals We see how Akbar and his ideology framed what is modern India today. Our constitution is based on one of his prime ideas- the panchayat raj. The stir in hearts to abolish slavery was helped by his old idea of equality and the notion of the success of an empire stemming from the content of its people first took place in the Indian subcontinent. This part is much more connectible to the present day reader. Then came the British and not only the panchayat raj suffered but the outline of a revolutions began taking shape. It took a long time, given our caste divisions, for a united voice to rise and ultimately win. With Mangal Singh's story we come to know that how even among the united one side of the rebellion, the driving factors can vary so much, and how that effects the course of the act. Rahul Sankrityayan was a communist. And the last two stories border on the ideology and its differences with Gandhi followers. Now, with the British in India the shape of our history was also attached to the ongoings of Europe and they were one important point that influenced our notions and reasons of revolt and revolution. The opinion about fascism, communism, socialism, nationalism started forming in the mind of the average Indian. Here we can almost hear what the writer believed in as the book draws to a close in 1942, the year it was published. Of the aftermath we know the basics. So, now its time to think!<br />
<br />
<br />
Two of my seniors, Shauri di and Monalisa di, say you achieve a 'paradigm shift' after having read this book. I don't know about that but once you have read this book, you will have a certain understanding. Though of course not complete, you will have a basic and well-formed idea of how things work, how human greed, lust shapes religions, beliefs, superstitions and they civilizations. How power play is central to the growth of the civilisations, and perspectives matter. And you will almost feel sad seeing that so vigorous a society still thriving, not understanding, and your ideas just being one of the many perspectives as was Rahul Sankrityayan's among many. <br />
<br />
<br />
The book ends with "satya se badhkar koi dharma nahi hai". It implies that no religion is greater than the truth. And that is what throughout this journey the writer has successfully tried to establish perhaps though what is the truth, differs from time to time and varies with the need of those who somehow become very important for various reason in shaping the history. How this happen and what are the reason? Well, the ball is in your court now! Play well.<br />
<br />
<br />
I give Rahul Sankrityayan's “Volga se Ganga” full 5 stars.<br />
<br />
<br />
So what are you thinking now? <br />
<br />
Don't think much. <br />
<br />
Over-thinking leads to stress. <br />
<br />
Go and buy this book. <br />
<br />
Then let me know in the comments if you can gently share some of your <br />
<br />
(so-called) precious time (I know how much time you waste!). <br />
<br />
<br />
Happy reading! :)</div>
Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-52519721690000042482016-07-06T01:31:00.000-07:002016-07-07T22:43:01.149-07:00Book Review - "Tales of the Open Road" by Ruskin Bond<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzAEbtfkRp_0Vvz5GMn1QVCzwvC1-wIwwbM8Voa8U64J6IwnaHowblAO9swsaHwNxe223UB1II9_fjVE38B1zzb8o2kstZhyphenhyphen7arNqC5Y0DBVRBDElB_v3hJ99Q8qLtJ6nV9BXvsdCm_7Ht/s1600/talesof+the+open+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzAEbtfkRp_0Vvz5GMn1QVCzwvC1-wIwwbM8Voa8U64J6IwnaHowblAO9swsaHwNxe223UB1II9_fjVE38B1zzb8o2kstZhyphenhyphen7arNqC5Y0DBVRBDElB_v3hJ99Q8qLtJ6nV9BXvsdCm_7Ht/s1600/talesof+the+open+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a>There are great writers in this world who have given something new to the world in the form of their writings. Among them there are two classes : one whom you can't help but admire for their beautiful penmanship, and the second with whom you, unconsciously, fall in love. For the second class, admiration comes after love. The speciality of writers like J. K. Rowling and J. R. R. Tolkein is that you can't help but fall in love with their writings, the worlds that they have created, beautifully crafted and designed. You marvel at their ingenuity and their ability to grasp your soul with a brilliant involvement.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5GdCj9dXaxhx37Kzxz3d64qpl17FqZWUrYRM1gLt9KjbbffxspNcGRCQls3aY1-G08KwDzN0G3epJGNkYXbvM8urfgu2bM4YUlIXBirHmX0n2cgsSQqL_A2-hx3gti6WLta3DwSuNpPQ/s1600/rusty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5GdCj9dXaxhx37Kzxz3d64qpl17FqZWUrYRM1gLt9KjbbffxspNcGRCQls3aY1-G08KwDzN0G3epJGNkYXbvM8urfgu2bM4YUlIXBirHmX0n2cgsSQqL_A2-hx3gti6WLta3DwSuNpPQ/s320/rusty.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruskin Bond<br />
Picture Courtesy :<a href="https://passion4pearl.wordpress.com/2012/09/12/harold-our-hornbill/" target="_blank"> Rusty's Photo</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Among them in my list there is another guy who isn't a fantasy writer but who is so much in love with his own world that you must also fall in love with the world that he pens down and the view that helps him and you, through him, access the vista of that world. That guy is none other that our dear old <span style="color: #3d85c6;">Rusty</span> or <span style="color: #45818e;">Ruskin Bond</span>. His writings soothe your soul when you are down and give you a hope that apart from all the bad, there is another aspect of life which is always going to remain beautiful and pleasant no matter what. Those things are nature's bounties, its people, their general goodness, animals in the wild, rhododendrons of the mountainous valley, glitters of dew on them with the freshness they bring, a little girl who is very happy to see all this and an old soul who has found himself after being lost in these. When you read a Ruskin Bond, in all there experiences perhaps you have never been there, but you find yourself becoming a Ruskin Bond. I have been in love with whatever he pens down from the time I have started to appreciate the small things in life amidst all the crisis we face everyday. The bad thing in this love, as in any other love, is that I can't find a flaw in him which as a book critic, that I am trying to be on this blog, I should be, as the tradition dictates. But I generally don't do that well in presence of a dictatorship. SO, please pardon me if you find lack of criticism boring or un-deserving but such is my love for Rusty. I apologize for the length as well! With your forgiveness, lets move forward.<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b> :)</b></span><br />
<br />
This post is dedicated to <span style="color: #3d85c6;">'Tales of the Open Road'</span> by, yes, our dear old Ruskin Bond. As would be anyone for to guess, this book is a collection of travel pieces. It has been written over a time line of fifty years, and hence is as rich and as varied in point of view as fifty years of experience may entail one to, but united in the essence. The spirit is that of a wanderer who is in love with his wanderings and his places and peoples of wanderings... <br />
<br />
The book starts with tales of highways and the GT Road, and Rusty takes us to those silent corners of the well trodden dusty road where he just spotted a <i>cheetal</i>, or just missed a leopard who was supposed to be there as per his driver. He, then, narrates his own story of running away from school with his friend Daljit, how they posed as tourists to avoid detection once and some long lost <i>sikh </i>relative of a friendly truck driver another time to make that journey which will just be a start to their grand voyages to Rome, New York, Dubai, London and so many exotic places in the world. He discovers in his journey the people of India and added to the cunning they let grow in you, he realizes some soft but some bitter truths about the roads , less or more but, travelled and unforeseeable surprises when the supposed and real ends do not meet. There are splashes of joy, spatters of disappointment, marvellous young ideas of adventurous school boys and a simple innocence that bind you to the tale. Rusty's roads are more about the bliss of travel rather than the ecstasy of the destination which not many times end in <i>joie de vivre</i>.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzAEbtfkRp_0Vvz5GMn1QVCzwvC1-wIwwbM8Voa8U64J6IwnaHowblAO9swsaHwNxe223UB1II9_fjVE38B1zzb8o2kstZhyphenhyphen7arNqC5Y0DBVRBDElB_v3hJ99Q8qLtJ6nV9BXvsdCm_7Ht/s1600/talesof+the+open+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzAEbtfkRp_0Vvz5GMn1QVCzwvC1-wIwwbM8Voa8U64J6IwnaHowblAO9swsaHwNxe223UB1II9_fjVE38B1zzb8o2kstZhyphenhyphen7arNqC5Y0DBVRBDElB_v3hJ99Q8qLtJ6nV9BXvsdCm_7Ht/s400/talesof+the+open+road.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture Courtesy : <a href="http://www.penguinbooksindia.com/sites/default/files/book_image/9780144000722.jpg" target="_blank">Book Cover</a><br />
<br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then follows the plain tales of the plain towns. Beer at Chutmalpur or the Rose Rum Factory of Shahjahanpur which brings back the forgotten nostalgia of Bond grandfather on his fore-passed road tales before 1857, and a cheer(s)-ful remembrance to the to the famous Solan Brewery in Simla. He talks about the lesser known Monsoon in Meerut in a crummy guest-house that belongs to sole survivor of the forgotten tribes of lost Englishmen in independent India. He talks about his summer road rages in Delhi. How he could never fall in love with Delhi but found a temporary respite in scorching summer walks in the city and how he always yearned for the hills while being there. Then he goes to Agra, but remembers more of the kites and the kite-makers and the endangered species of kite-fliers; not the Taj Mahal and its grand tribute to 'love'; but a lazy afternoon conversation with a young boy he met while searching for a shade beside. Then he ascribes the pilgrims' of Ganga, the devotees of Rhishikesh and Haridwar, his inquisitive friend Kamal and the Delphic <i>sadhu</i>s they met on their travel. Oh so much of India! Can you take it any more?<br />
<br />
Finally he comes back to the hills. He is at peace there. He reflects full of nostalgia on the changes that have hugged the high himalayan hills of India. Once sitting on an erstwhile rat infested royal chair in a wayside teashop, he tries to understand its owner whose life, health plans are all dependent on a road that will be build in god knows how many years and a few buses that will pass through that road; and how there is still hope till there are a few bank managers in unknown villages who get all excited about a freshly blossomed flower. Passing along a moonlit dark alley in his city he comes to tryst with one of the profound truths about humanity and succumbs to his <span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i>Hillel-ian</i></span></span></span></span></span> ethics that say,<br />
<b><i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">“If I am not for myself</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">who will be for me?</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">If I am not for others</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">what am I?</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">If not now, when?” </span></i></b><br />
<br />
Now coming to it, what do you think of Ganga? A holy river revered by Hindus, embraced by Indian customs and beliefs of rituals and purity although ecological reports differ! But how does Rusty's Ganga looks? She is not just a river, but almost a character full of fun and frolic, dangerous and lovable. She almost imbibes the personality of the path it traverses (<span style="color: #3d85c6;">'or is it vice-versa?'</span>) before pouring herself down at the Bay of Bengal. The gradient of her character and transformations, somewhere smooth and somewhere abrupt, amazes the reader. Alaknanda geographically the true-born one is the more atrocious one. She moves with an unrest and roars as the thunder on her way to Devprayag. She is as scary as she is temperamental. Whereas Bhagirathi, traditionally the more respected one due to her patience and control and choice of the path that reflects her beauty and greenery, is as if the elder sister, the calmer one, who finally meets Alaknanda and both assume the character that the plains' devotee worship as mother Ganga. You can almost feel his love and admiration for the attractive Mandakini ('the river, not the actress though both lovely beauties to look at and admire!' <span style="color: red;"><b>;)</b></span> ).<br />
<br />
Living in the aftermath of the 2013 Uttarakhand tragedy, you can relate to how the characters of these rivers, just as Rusty described, were fateful in deciding the destiny of the devotees. That is the genius of the writer and the prowess of his observation. The description of the <i>deodar</i>s, silver-firs, spruces along the coasts, the silky rocks polished by the raging river, and a writer's judgment on her character, the usual Indian tourist trivialities and so on are what attracts you to this trail of Ganges, and you will always feel that connection re-establish when either Rusty or you return there one day. <br />
<br />
You can read Mr. Ruskin Bond's tales as if you were there, beside him, as a silent observer on these trails, and then the wanderlust strikes you. If you once fall in love with Bond, there will always be a part of his character that will live inside you no matter where life takes you. <br />
<br />
I give Ruskin Bond's “Tales of the Open Road” <span style="color: red;"><b>full 5 stars.</b></span><br />
<br />
So, you are packing your bags now, right?<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">Happy reading! :)</span></b><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-58123862560927939652016-06-16T08:40:00.002-07:002016-07-05T13:46:02.648-07:00Book Review - "Servants of India" by R. K. Laxman<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The second review again is aimed for another '<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Laxman-flavour</i></span>'-ed book titled <span style="color: #0b5394;"><u><i>"Servants of India"</i></u></span>. The reason of this line of succession is because I am reading his works one after the other at this moment. So, pardon me if you get bored.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-B8rTRHIUW_AxHWdfNJrRKnhm_B1Jheo8H7-8870rRcOuQrjvEfhems879D7J3HeqRXfdzweiuBaa-qXa670Ygv-D3Y3o2f0d2LIb8g8_x3yAgn-YQ5MeM8MyuXNrNDEc5cNqHeitNdN/s1600/soi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-B8rTRHIUW_AxHWdfNJrRKnhm_B1Jheo8H7-8870rRcOuQrjvEfhems879D7J3HeqRXfdzweiuBaa-qXa670Ygv-D3Y3o2f0d2LIb8g8_x3yAgn-YQ5MeM8MyuXNrNDEc5cNqHeitNdN/s320/soi.jpg" width="240" /></a>Going by the title, anyone accustomed to R. K. Laxman would assume this to be a book on the <i>esteemed</i> politicians of our country, but it is not so! This book is basically about the most important person in the Indian household - the servant, something that is even unheard of in our western counterparts of similar social status. For Indians, the servant of the house is of utmost importance for the plethora of activities they perform at lower rates which constantly seem to rise, and the topic is worrisome as well due to their unpredictability, inefficiency or sheer unavailability. And our dear Mr. Laxman tries to write by hand a picture of the helping hand.<br />
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In a single sentence, it is a nice little book. So, this review is going to be a short and a crisp one. The first two stories were amusing enough. A crook handyman and another cook who emerge as a priest and motivational speaker after taking a well-informed leave respectively. The following stories are ordinary incidents narrated with Laxman's signature satire and sense of humour. They do give you his perspective and Indian people's outlook of the servant condition of India, but I would especially mention <i>(not spoil!)</i> two of his servant stories which I actually loved very much.<br />
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The first one is <i>'Iswaran the storyteller'</i>. It's eerie as is supposed to be, and the writing is well suited for that purpose. Apart form that, the remarkable quality of the writing lies in the fact that the writer never looses his sense of humour throughout the narrative. So, the great interest for you is that at the the end of the story you are not only uneasy but also chuckling.<br />
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After that follows a nice descriptive narration with the essence of the unusual style of the cartoonist in <i>'Narsimha the terrible'</i>, you reach another story - <i>'The Saga of Ramaswami'</i>. Here Laxman is marvellous, as he gets to describe various landscapes and diverse people, not just limited to the household arena as in the rest of the book, with his confident flair of a caricaturist-turned-writer. The imageries are really well constructed and the story, though quite simple, appeals.<br />
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An American or a European might find this particular collection of writing very odd due to the topic it deals with. Being not accustomed to the way things are done in India, as the author unabashedly mentions, might arise a question like, "Why the hell!?" For example : a child of eight came in as a domestic help and the family, though was an educated one with the bread-earner being a writer- an intellectual great, never admitted the boy to school; instead his job was to play with their own kid who subsequently goes on to school. But this relation, in spite of its sheer inequality and injustice, goes along healthily and happily for a long time. One might criticise this aspect of the book, but this system of household servants is still there at large. Child labour, cheap labour rates are a handful of the big, major issues faced by India today. One has to understand that the caricaturist is just writing about the reality, what he saw around himself with a stroke of satire on the attitude of those who are around.<br />
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So, on the whole if you are not bothered by the above fact, the book is a nice quick little read, and some of the story-titles are really nice. The middle section of the book is a
bit boring and repetitive which gives me the impression that due to poor
choice of many similar, weak stories in a book concerned with a very
domestic and<i> non-exotic</i> topic, the effect of writing remains a bit powerless. It
seems a good story teller choose a bad story to tell. But still a few are
really nice, funny and great to read.<br />
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So, for me R. K. Laxman's "Servants of India" earns <i><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">2.5 - 3 stars.</span></b></i><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>Happy reading! :)</b></span></div>
Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570603139822775844.post-3610850122918306042016-06-14T02:53:00.001-07:002016-07-05T13:45:51.234-07:00Book Review - "The Distorted Mirror: Stories, Travelogues, Sketches"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I love reading, and it is one of the best habits of my life. This is a
blog I have opened to start doing book reviews on a proper basis as I
often have something to say about the books I read. So why not let this
vast expanse of populated void, called the internet, know them too? Now that was idea behind starting this. I hope
people who might make the mistake of reading this will forgive me for
being too romantic and too emotional in my reviews, because that's how I am. <b>:<span style="color: #cc0000;">)</span></b><br />
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This book review is for <i>"<span style="color: #351c75;"><u>The Distorted Mirror: Stories, Travelogues, Sketches</u></span>"</i> by the most revered and loved cartoonist of our country<b> </b><span style="color: #351c75;"><i><u>R. K. Laxman</u></i></span><b> - </b><span style="font-family: sans-serif;">the man </span>who chronicled India's first sixty years of independence from the point of view of a <i>'common man'</i>. His cartoons spoke all that an '<i>aam aadmi</i>' ever felt. But what the larger population doesn't know is his prowess as a writer. And I will give you a partial idea about that in this post.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJtfC7rxWm0PQHgD64Xc0AYY9IIni7jRMUB83sbVbGWItAZZfO4IFjI9BkMHQVmzFBRAVRkjPXZTcmZURtMW-ENieSNtvjaJYPejor7d2Kbk19QF8fu3kVWxHLM7EEwMwYiPThmPILCzR/s1600/laxman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJtfC7rxWm0PQHgD64Xc0AYY9IIni7jRMUB83sbVbGWItAZZfO4IFjI9BkMHQVmzFBRAVRkjPXZTcmZURtMW-ENieSNtvjaJYPejor7d2Kbk19QF8fu3kVWxHLM7EEwMwYiPThmPILCzR/s320/laxman.jpg" width="206" /></a>A good warning for all is that I am a devoted fan of Mr. Laxman (pardon me for referring to him that way; it's a really bad habit of mine to call my favourite authors sometimes like this!); and thus, I might be a bit more elaborate on his good side. I will try to be equally critical of his shortcomings (thanks to Amal for advising me to do that).<br />
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The book has an easy, lucid language. Extensive readers might guess from his writings that his style exemplifies typical Indian English but, as I feel, as long as it remains a pleasure to read and that depends on the content, newness, etc., that is never the problem.<br />
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The book starts with short stories which might more properly be the character of sketches, with brilliant minute observations perfectly conveyed, rather than a conventional package of stories. They are quite abrupt without a proper trimming and lack the power of narration. With so many great short stories we have, Laxman's ones simply fail to amaze as much as the accompanying cartoons. I personally feel that they should have been published under "character sketches" or something like that. But after all they are short stories, so a new <i>'Laxman-flavour'</i> is not unwelcome there, and they get over quite fast. <span style="color: #990000;"><b>:(</b></span><br />
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But as you move to his travelogues, the power of a brilliant observation made strikes you in a better way this time, and you can appreciate the strong imageries of <i>'Laxman-flavour'</i> in a better way here. The descriptions are authentic, personal, the reminiscences powerful and witty. My first great moment of pleasure came as I was reading his travelogue
'Darjeeling', and just a page later suddenly encountered a happy observation-
"How similar are his observations to me!" And that connected a chord. So, I will go into a bit extensive detail about his travel pieces. Please skip the <u>next four paragraphs</u> if the narrative gets too boring to be digested without medicine.<br />
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As I was reading '<i>holiday in the islands</i>', I was transported back to the days when Laxman visited, when the tourism of the Andaman and Nicobar islands were lost in oblivion after the British left. I could almost smell the moist grass, tread on the forgotten, mossy islands where forgotten leisure houses gloated in their ruin. What an amazing descriptor! No doubt that his cartoons could speak. No doubt he is a legend.<br />
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While writing of <i>Australia</i>, even though I know that my reflections on visiting the same sketches, if I ever visit them, would be different, I can still agree and ponder on with his outlook, impressions, writings of the untouched blue of the isolated continent, of the enthusiastic gold miners of leisure hours, and of old millionaires of the sheep. His pen is almost visual with the flair and confidence of an established cartoonist who is damn serious and honest in his witticisms.<br />
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Of <i>Mauritius</i> and <i>Kathmandu</i>, his pen describes all that would be evoked in the mind of any '<i>Indian-ish</i>' Indian. The surprise of a familiar ancestral Tamil speaking French-accented English, the descriptions of nightmarish corals that give you the creeps, the king typhoon unsettling the peace till it is forgotten in a cycle of stormy aftermaths. All remind you a bit of yourself taking these impressions as if it were you in the tiny island country. Also the parting where he is filled with a necessary grief born out of an experienced intuition showing the fate of an ever-desired industrialisation that would secure but kill the paradise of a now vulnerable nation dependant only on the sweetness of sugar-cane farming and its friendly people; but he is still hopeful, maybe very pessimistically as he dreads the shadow that kills his imagination to play with the clouds, as he boards the plane to return to India. For Kathmandu the nature of impressions are his amusing musings after overcoming the initial shock and disgust. How a king's courtyard is filled with grass sellers and dogs reminding him and the reader of India! How foreign tourists are fooled and sold the idol of goddess Tara that to them becomes the Buddha! <span style="color: #990000;"><b>:/</b></span> He almost always is chuckling darkly and so are you. But still the observations of a similar Indian are much more favourable of a Kathmandu than its pretentious casinos and nightclubs. You agree, don't you?<br />
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But Laxman is at his best and magnificent at his sketches, for a less obvious thing his literary sketches. The charismatic caricaturist is at his best framing those sentences, especially if the sketches are describing a political creature, or a humble hypocrite or simply a bored commoner for whom both the aforementioned caricatures are as true and real as the next day. His writings show us the potential of a cartoonist and a political satirist who is honest and funny in his views, narrations and sketches. The humour, satire and the wisdom in choosing those are the superlatives of that class. I have fallen in love with his writings of a caricaturist-turned-writer while still retaining the effortless, visible humour, irony and satire of that brilliant <i>observation-ist</i> and <i>comparision-ist </i>alive in every sentence . The metaphors, direct comparisons are just too great to be missed. Literature isn't just great words or grand sentences, but something new and brilliant of an idea to offer to the existing mass, and our dear Mr. Laxman does that seamlessly.<br />
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The last piece of this collection is a caricaturist's self-reflection. He vividly recalls what is the impression of the impressionist, what questions he is asked and how he replies. He also ponders along deep whether and to what extent his profession as a cartoonist has effected his outlook. Though it does less to ease the effects of rising prices of onion or the irritation of sticky jams but having a frame of humour in mind perhaps does a lot to ease the journey. And that funny, witty but serious and satirical journey of one hundred and sixty pages were one of the fastest and most amusing that I have ever had. The read is very light but not forgettable. A <span style="color: #351c75;"><i>'Laxman-flavour</i></span>'
definitely stays with you and impregnates your outlook. Hail the
cartoonist and his witticisms! Hail Mr. R K Laxman, his pen, his mind and his observations!<br />
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I will give R. K. Laxman's "The Distorted Mirror: Stories, Travelogues, Sketches" <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>4 stars</b></span>. <br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: #990000;"><b>Happy reading! :)</b></span></span></div>
Debalina Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11980578636113012833noreply@blogger.com0