Post Ladies Coupe

I first heard about this one about 9 years back. A good friend of mine had this book and was about to lend me, but that handing over of the book never happened, cause after sometime during those days, we both lost touch with each other. It was I who actually severed the ties with him due to some stupid, nonsensical girlish reason. And, I guess I got punished for that folly of mine by getting to read this classic so later in life. I picked up this one from the Landmark book store's last sale, from the ever popular twitch of buying 3 for 2 books. That ways I feel intelligent in paying up just 70% of the price, if all the three books happen to be of the similar price range.

Getting back to the book, well I am afraid thinking as to which kind of a woman will not like this one. Though, every woman is a unique individual apart from being just a woman. Any woman irrespective of whether belonging to a prosperous nation or to a third World one; of being born into a rich household or a poor; being born orphan or into a well sheltered family; being single or married; being married or divorced, being a mother or not having any issues; or classified in any other classification will be able to find moments of truth in this book.

I truly admired the writer's craft; the sensitive eye to detailing emotions, situations, paradoxes, and even food is par excellence. The story revolves around a 45 year old single South Indian woman Akhila who is all tired and battered with her life of living alone and providing for her selfish family. She has held back feeling anything that has got to do with her own happiness, that includes her choice of food, style of living, and even the man in her life. Her every thoughts and actions are guided by their implications on her family, society and everyone else, except herself. So one fine day, when she goes completely berserk, she gets her friend to help her in buying a one-way ticket to Kanyakumari and sets off for the journey all alone; something that is forbidden as a woman to do.

All the women touched Akhila with their stories and instilled in wisdom of experience in her which changed her into a completely different person. She was the last one amongst them all to get off the train and by the time she reached her destination, she found a stark change in herself. She felt she had developed an appetite for food; she wanted to try different food, wanted to speak to strangers, was perfectly comfortable being her and no longer cared for what her own family, people, strangers or anyone else thought about her. Happiness came as something natural to her and not as a derivative of any human relation or any action that is universally accepted as a motif of happiness. Moreover, she started indulging in pleasures as if they were naturally connected to her. She had developed that I do not give a damn attitude and that became a strong component in her DNA from then on. In fact, it grew so much in her that on the last day of her trip she ended up calling up her yesteryear flame with the panache that could come only to a person who is comfortable and confident under his/her own skin. And why she would not have done that, because she finally had got the real truthful answer to her big controversial question.

The settings of the story in locations were perfectly apt for the story. Like for instance, Kanyakumari happens to be the last railway station down South of India. It echoed it with the protagonist’s last retort to her life. Once reaching there she embraced life and went back fulfilled and full of life; the very way any tourist would after visiting the picturesque and calm Kanyakumari.
This book is a must read, and a must must if you are a feminist. Also, in the final bit of the fiction, the transformed Akhila was much like me. Now I know why most of the people find me so absurd, and on the other hand many confide in me that they always wish to be like me, both men and women. And to be frank, if I am asked the same question, my answer is and will always be:

"I do not need a man, but his love to survive happily."  

P.S: Now I am about to do an unfinished business. I am going to look out for that friend who had acquainted me with the book, and yes with whom I had misbehaved. This book made me realize that I have to do this sooner or later.

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Review of "Open City" by Teju Cole

I got interested to read this one after attending the session called "Afropolitans" on Day 4 of the Jaipur Literature Festival, 2012. Writer Teju Cole was one of the 3 panelists along with Ben Okri and Taiye Selasi. I liked the spark in his personality while he was speaking. He sounded so clear and straightforward about everything he spoke, though he insisted that he did not believe in everything being simple and straightforward all the time.

So, since then his Open City got into my wish list. Also, I knew that the book received the Hemingway Foundation/PEN Award, so it also added up to the attraction. From there it got into my hands as a birthday gift from one of my friends. The cover made me feel that I was about to read an intriguing suspense thriller and I got hooked to reading it. The reviews at the back cover also sounded like the ones you have for the suspense thrillers. So, I was indeed excited while reading.

The use of language was simple and lucid. The story revolves around a Julius who is an half-Nigerian, half-German from Nigeria studying and working in Manhattan as a psychiatrist. The starting few chapters seemed like a diary entry, especially the recounting of the daily life tasks and the interactions with his girl friend. I went on from one chapter to next thinking that there would be something new apart from the daily routine involving walking the streets; interactions with an Indian neighbour; few rendezvous with an aging professor; outings to galleries and flashbacks of childhood. But there was simply nothing new; except for some thrilling stuff like bugs under the bed mattress. The entire citation of those crawlers made me fetch my mattress too.

Apart from that there was one more incident in the narrative that got me involved with the book. It was the one involving Julius discovering a deed of malevolence committed in a sense of stupor when he was a teenager. His coming forth with the memory of the event which he hardly remembered gave me goose bumps for few seconds.

Though, in his book Mr. Cole was implemental in bringing out the bias that the Africans face in today's World. The way he described that people would always come up with the question of Julius's ethnicity irrespective of the circumstances of the interaction, like while treating a patient or the one when he was in a gastropub in Belgium were indeed good. I also liked the way he compared the discrimination towards people with Islamic beliefs to the ones originating from African regions. One of times when he has a discussion on the same subject with an American female physicist in Belgium was indeed phenomenal. All that confirmed my belief of Mr. Cole being the same experienced and witty person whom I heard months back.

But all in all I did not enjoy reading this one. I realized that I was more content hearing the man in person. Especially his cut throat remarks on censorship on literature. May be I need to broaden my learning and reading range. I should surely get to know after reading and reviewing the next book that Mr. Cole would come up with.

From L to R : Teju Cole,  Ben Okri, Taiye Selasi

                                                    

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Review of " The Rozabal Line" by Ashwin Sanghi

The Rozabal Line, Sanghi's first novel (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Wonderful. It is a lovely one in the series of religious and mystery genre. This was my second attempt at reading something on the religious matter. Being an atheist I stay away from religious studies, it unnecessarily inflicts conflicting thoughts that would or would not be true in the real sense. As in, I would any time prefer to read an actual holy book as compared to a construe on the same by anyone. Well the reason being, as many heads, as many interpretations. In fact that is the reason for the so much of commotion in the religion markets of the world to establish their supremacy. And that current state of affairs is exactly the fiber of Mr. Sanghvi's "The Rozabal Line."

The book is a refresher course in the religious history of the World, taking you through various continents during various centuries; and ultimately putting you through the same discourse that you hear everyday about the Almighty, that God is all but one and all religions teach all to be nice, good and one should believe in the power of Karma, and such and such. Though, the only theological shifting grounds remain the belief or no-belief towards the philosophies of rebirth, resurrection and crucification between various religions.

What I really admire about the writer is the deep down study he has done of the religious books and the events that spanned through the centuries in all parts of the World. Like for instance I was amazed to know that Mary Magdalene and Indian Magadha have similarities; Aztecs in America also worship the Eagle, like Hindus do of Garuda, which happens to be the mythological Eagle that was believed to be the vehicle of Lord Vishnu. In fact there are many such instances that seem striking when the writer draws out close similarities through the various religions and civilizations of the World. But the writer's craft is put to test when he etches out a beautiful interconnected thriller in-between these historical, mythological and theological studies.

It is so blasting with interconnected facts that you might have to be ready with a pencil to mark few lines, so that you do not have to start reading the book again to get the story right. As a reader you cannot do much, since Mr. Sanghi is so perfect with his research that he mysteriously deploys his crucial anecdotes in a treasure hunt flair doing full justice to the thriller genre.

My personal preference for the book is more attributed to the fact that there was no exaggerated or emotional or romantic twist to it. Just a simple “catch-me-if-you-can” construct that keeps you entertained with all the hypothesis and corollaries in-between. It could be the one for you if you would like a wise mix of a story involving a Priest, past life therapists, a brutal contract killer beauty, oil mafias, women American President, and of course Osama Bin Landen.

Although you have read or not read the "Da Vinci Code", or the "Angels and Demons", you need to read this one to get an air of all the major religious theories of the World by an Indian.

The book can be bought here:
                                                           

                                     

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Review of "Half a Life" by V. S. Naipaul

I always wanted to read Naipul's craft; and finally I was able to with this one. It is always great to read a book from a Nobel Laureate, and that too when the writer happens to be of an Indian origin.

Co-incidentally this book came in the same year when Mr. Naipul received his Nobel.

Coming to the book, I really did not find it interesting at all. If it was not for Mr. Naipul and his accolades, I would not have continued or even picked up this one.

The title "Half a Life" made me think it was some sci-fi technical kind of stuff, though that thought was for just few seconds.

The story started with a conversation of an upper caste brahmin father and his son in some part of the newly independent India. The discussion was on the rationality of the son' middle name being borrowed from the famous and respected writer of all times, Mr. Somerset Maugham. The reason behind keeping the name was that the father attributed his career and standing in the society to the writer who had penned about the father in his writings.

The father had gone on the path of abjection by sacrificing everything in his life, as a means of following the trajectory of Mahatma. He even went on to drop out of his college and married a woman from the down castes.

Though father wished his son to follow the same path, but the son had his own sellf-interested ways of living his life and he ends up studying in London with the aid of some influence from one of his father's acquaintances'.

Then the entire story moves from an Indian village to London, moving from there to Africa and finally ends up in Charlottenburg, somewhere in Berlin. The entire novel moves around stories, stories that the protagonist Willie keeps telling to his sister in Germany about how he lives his life from London to Africa finding refuge in various women for companionship, money and of course the physical comforts; and then finally abandoning them once his self interests are fulfilled.

Mr. Naipaul's writing ideology about women in this particular book is no different from the various statements he has made about women in the media. Hence, his writing considering women as people to be used merely for benefits did not come as a surprise to me.

My only connect with the book was the fact that somewhere it mocked women who wear socks under their saris...That is something I have also find queer,a and I was surprised to see the writer also thinking the same.

Overall the descriptions and the vivid detailing of the colonial times in India and Africa was simple and beautiful. The entire narration also stuck to its title, "Half a Life" to the "T". The writer kept stressing all about his misfitting life full of his half-hearted living, broken desires, half-hatreds and under-achievements.

May be I need to read more of his craft to discover more from him.

                                                              

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Review of Our Lady of Alice Bhatti by Mohammed Hanif

Brilliant. That is the word that came to my mind even before I had finished this one. If long back, one Alice took you to her wonderland, this Alice wakes you up and pulls you from the wonderland to her miraculous life of living and surviving as a Christian nurse in an entire Islamic country. The book is the fashion statement of our current feminist times.

Enough of those sad, sobbing stories of women, that sound more or less the same from all over the globe. This is the one with a difference, though difference is not in the style of adversity that could be meted out to any woman, especially to a woman from an Asian country; but the difference lies in the way she obviates them, or simply tries to.

The one particular incident of her assailing a man's genitals, who actually was trying to assault her made me keep the book aside and clap. And I did clap. The description of Alice's day to day routine battles of avoiding doing any act or move to divert any sort of molestation on her were remarkable. Like the phrase that describes how she avoids jumping the water puddles, and rather goes aside them, so that nobody see her legs being stretched, so that in-turn nobody gets a false invitation are simply brilliant.

This is the kind of story that depicts the state of women, especially the ones who are not Muslims in the Country. But mind you the narration is so filled with such unparalleled humor and brevity that you rather end up laughing on Alice's misfortunes than shedding a tear. You would not share her grief, rather her individuality and durability to mimic some in your own life too.

This is what I call an invention. A modern day weapon that women from all over would love to flaunt.

Though the only thing that I fail to fathom in Our Lady of Alice Bhatti is the writer. Having heard him in person I know that the man is pure genius. But how come he is so genius that he understands and interprets a woman, that too a reinforced battered woman so well..

P.S: A click on the author's image will lead to the list of all books written by him. For the particular book
mentioned in this post, you can follow this link below:

                                                  


 

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Review of A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry

Wonderful. I admire the writer's ability for being so sensitive to observe things with such fine detailing and then writing it with such fine ability that makes the picture of the events described vivid in front of the reader. I can visualize the events and even the faces of characters in the story by just going through the descriptions that are as near to being visual. The foreword by Honore de Balzac frightens me to imagine that the story of impending misfortunes could be real. But even if it is or it is not, the fact remains that the story would have been utterly boring if not Mr. Mistry had constructed the tale so wonderfully.

Though at times the misfortunes were simply exaggerated. For instance the narration of the suicide of the siblings event was obviously not well thought. How come 3 sisters living in a one-room house commit suicide all at the same time by hanging themselves through a fan? Though if they did it one-by-one, then also the task would have been physically tedious. I dont know if Mr. Mistry has an explanation to that event.

I am sure if not for the beautiful picturesque proses, the story would have been utterly boring. I love it for the narration and style of interlacing the events. I even dream of the sequences described in the novel. And yes, I loved the silent description of the political emergency that is the wonderful backdrop and villain of the entire
story. Cant say anything further to the impact of the book on me.
 
                                                         

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