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Books of July-August 2009

Before I begin, July-August was pathetically slow in terms of reading. And now zikra of the books that I did manage to read:

1. Sea of Poppies (Fiction) by Amitav Ghosh

I liked the booked. The story was about a couple of characters and how all of them came aboard an old Schooner to start their journey from India to Marich (Mauritius). If this sounds like an incomplete story then please recall that this book is just the first part of a Trilogy – the other two are yet to come out. The characters were interesting. There was Deeti, a poor bihari lady whose ganza-addicted good for nothing husband died in the middle of the novel and who was then rescued from sati that could have taken away her life, by a lower cast chamar – Kalua – with whom she finally fled. Then there was this French dame Paulette aka Putli who had grown up in Calcutta and who later ran away from her care-takers who had adopted her because they were planning to get her married to some old moral preaching British judge. There was Zachary – the bhola bhaala American carpenter who was promoted to the rank of second mate, there was Serang Ali – the head lascar whose English (or the lack of it) killed me, there was Mr. Burnham – the mighty rich British businessman based in Calcutta who owned the schooner that I mentioned earlier (he was also the one who had adopted Putli and from whom Putli had ran away), there was Bobu Nob Kison – Mr. Burnham’s sagacious manager who was so sure that Zachary was lord Krishna in disguise and he himself the lover – Radha. In fact, there were several more – each one nicely sketched, but let me not get into each character here. The entire novel was set during the period when Britishers had recently started ruling India, evil of the caste system was widespread, kings still existed and the opium-trade was legal and flourishing.

Amitav Ghosh has this grand-fatherly style of writing which makes you feel like a small kid and the stories sound fantastical. This is my opinion of this author based on Sea of Poppies – his only book that I have read so far. I really loved the way he used various dialects, lingos, accents in his writing (though I must admit that at times this made it difficult to read and understand). My final verdict is this: very ordinary story but excellent use of English language and a certain charm inherent in the writing style.

2. With Cyclists Around the World (Non-fiction) – by Adi B. Hakim, Jal P. Bapasola & Rustom B. Bhumgara

In early 1920’s six Parsi dudes decided to globe-trot on bicycles. They started their journey from Bombay, cycled to Baluchistan, Persia (today’s Iran), Iraq, Palestine, Italy, Switzerland, Vienna, Germany, France, UK, America, Japan, Korea, China, French Indo-China (yes this was a separate country back then!), Burma and finally back to India (with a detour to Ceylon – today’s Sri Lanka – thrown in). Phew! Only three could complete this trip. It took them more than four fucking years and there were several occasions when they almost died. Fuck, fuck fuck! I bow to them! Seriously! And now – let me move to the book.

It was earlier this month when I was contemplating on a solo mountain-bike (read cycling) trip in the Himalayas myself (btw – the plan is more or less frozen now). So imagine my awe when I spotted this book on one of the shelves in Oxford. I had to read it! I read it. The English was good in vocabulary but boring in style. The authors lacked the ability to create suspense, thrill or drama. An extraordinary venture like theirs sounded more ordinary than it should have had save few exceptions now and then. The following is how most of the book was written: we cycled for A miles, the road was like B (good / bad / ugly / non-existent / etc.), the weather was like C (boiling hot / hot / pleasing /cold / freezing / raining / stand storm inflicted / etc.), then we reached D, people in D were like E (E = good / bad / ugly / poor / rich / hospitable / indifferent / etc.), the place D had E,F,G,H things to see which we saw after which we ate I & J and then slept (or depending on the circumstance – could not sleep), got up the next day and cycled A1 miles and on and on. I am glad that the authors managed to wrap up the book in less than 400 pages. My final verdict: 1/10th of the book is interesting, rest is boring (but definitely puts up a brave account). More than the book itself, what truly touches you is the guts of these dudes who made something so stunning sound so cool and peacemax!

3. The Talking Guns – North East India (Non-fiction) by Niendra Dev

I picked up this book in Shillong. Bad English. Poor structure. Passionate author. When you are done reading this book, you do realize how serious the terrorism problem in Assam, Manipur, Nagaland & Tripura is. You also realize how cut off the central government’s thinking really is from these states. By the time this book ends, you only wish that the bloody conflict and violence prevailing in these four states that I just mentioned dies down gradually instead of leaking out to Mizoram, Meghalaya & Arunachal Pradesh – the comparatively stable north-eastern neighbours.

4. Under a Cloud: Life in Cherrapunji (Non-fiction) by Binoo K. John.

In a way it was funny to read a book on Cherrapunji immediately after visiting the place. There was nothing too special about this little over 150 pages travelogue though I must admit that the author did have a way with words and could flaunt his little sense of humour now and then.

5. Khasi Folk Tales by Mrs. Rafi

This was some old piece of good shit that I picked up – once again from Shillong. The first edition was published in 1920 while the edition that I picked up belonged to 1985. All the pages had turned grayish yellow and within few days – the hard-bound cover came off!

Now to the content. Folk tales are always enchanting, aren’t they? They are the simplest of stories and yet capture in them the most complex flavours of an entire culture. Khasis are one of the most predominant tribes of Meghalaya. This book helped me connect better with the state. Reading this book was like reading Nandan or Nanhe Samrat or Balhans or one of those kiddy mags – except that here, the cute, short stories that I read were all deep rooted in the local Meghalaya culture.

6. India and the Global Financial Crisis: managing money and finance (Non-fiction) by Y. V. Reddy

It was obviously the title of the book that tempted me to read it. Who wouldn’t have liked to read about the captioned title from none other than the ex RBI chief himself? But what a misnomer this title was! One does not get any gyaan on the global financial crisis till one reaches the blessed Epilogue which is like less than 10% of this 350+ paged compilation of intellectual but highly boring essays. I could read about 70% of the book but I doubt if I remember even 1% of all that I read.

The only way you can read and remember this book is if you have a quiz – based on this book – to write the next day and your life depends on cracking that quiz. There’s another thing that I would like to tell you about this book – Y. V. Reddy truly teaches you how to write the drab bureaucratic english (not too different from the way consultants write formal letters / notes / reports : P ). So you would find repeated usage of sleep-inducing words like – effectiveness, paradigm, framework, priority, permanency, objectivity, quintessence, resolve, conjunction, appropriate, seek, advocate, foster, strength, restructure and phrases like “flagged the issue”, “enduring nature”, “at this stage” and blah! If you picked up this book because of the same reason as mine, then all the best mate! Final verdict – not for non-bankers. Period.

7. Teilnag – a novel (Fiction) by Yona M. Nonglang

Don’t laugh at the author’s name – ok? The very fact that this novel was typeset in comic sans font should have been a good enough reason to keep me away from it. But then, sometimes I act as irrational as most human beings do. A book published by an unknown author himself and printed in a local printing press in Shillong wouldn’t be read by many – so in a way I am one of the lucky few who read it. :P

Average English. Pointless story. I only wanted to see how the local Meghalaya talent was. I didn’t expect to be impressed much. When I was done reading it, I wasn’t impressed much. Anyway, the book did give me a glimpse into the way of thinking of a local Meghalaya youth, how he views his matrilineal society, how he wants to serve his hilly state and what kind of live he leads in general. That’s the more and less of this book. Enough said.

8. Meghalaya – Issues and Legacies of its Early Years by Dhiren Bhagwati

LOL – if you are thinking by now that I have been doing a PhD on Meghalaya, I won’t blame you for that. I might not be doing a PhD but when in Shillong, I was really really desirous to discover more about the state than what a regular tourist usually cares to find about. This state came into existence only in 1970 when Indira Gandhi finally agreed to the demand for a new state and carved it off from Assam. The book – albeit boring like most text books are – gave a fair account of developmental issues and the early days of Meghalaya.

Phew – that’s about it. I am off to Hyd tomorrow where I shall be running my first half marathon on Sunday morning (30th August). I shall be in Hyd till Monday afternoon, so if any of you are there and want to catch up, have beer with me, etc. – give me a call on 0 9 1 7 8 7 4 2 2 0 1 or 0 9 8 8 4 2 7 0 0 9 4 – whichever works.

See you in September! :)

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Shitoon 136: C(HAT)++

Do !tell me that you did !get it. :P

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The wishes of cooks came true…

…when the Prince dance group cracked the first prize of 50 lakh bucks and some Maruti car minutes ago. As I saw them being declared the winners, I shed tears of joy. I must say that right now, as I type these word with moist eyes, I feel as happy as any Oriya must be feeling at the moment. When I saw them perform I realized that there was something divine about them that definitely transcended states, regions, caste or creed. I feel so small compared to what they did and what they just achieved. Words cannot describe my joy. There is one thing for sure – when they return, entire Orissa is going to be present to welcome them.

PS: After my cooks left, I was motivated to check out the group’s performance on Youtube and I must say that they impressed me and touched me so much that I had to send my first voting sms ever.

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Shitoon 135: Hundred metres

There is a difference between running and flying which some like him don't understand!

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One sms please

There are two cooks in my guest-house. The count was actually three till one of them quit last month. They cook delectable food and – as individuals – are very decent, caring and hard working folks. You can ask them for a coffee or a chaai any time and you get served in minutes. A few hours ago, they came to my room and asked me if I could help them send an sms. They wanted to send their vote for the Prince Group. I recalled noticing an advertisement in yesterday’s or the day before yesterday’s ToI. The ad pleaded all Oriyas to vote for the group which had made it to the finals of a talent hunt show on a national TV channel. I had seen some episodes of this show where individuals / groups from all over India performed anything that they were capable of. Most of them went for dangerous stunts, some sang, some did choreo, some played musical instruments and so on. The show had three judges – Shekhar Kapoor who kept crying most of the times, Sonali Bendre who often appeared shocked, bewildered and dumb after witnessing some of those dangerous stunts (the only words that she said nine out of ten times were – “I don’t know what to say!’) & that fat lady who played Aamir’s mother in RDB, Kat’s mother in Singh is King, Aishwarya’s mother in Devdas – you get her right? Anyway, this post is neither about the judges, nor about the performers (I must confess though, that most of the performers whom I saw were stunning while some of them were simply out of this world). This post is about my cooks and their sms request. When they asked me to help them send the sms, I was touched. Had I been a sixty year old fat woman, I would have hugged my cooks and shed real tears – I was that touched. I had myself never seen the Prince group perform but I am sure that my cooks must have had. I am sure that the entree of the group into the finals must have had bloated their chests. Now, they wanted to do their bit to help the daily wage labours from their state – the state of Orissa – the state that otherwise no one in India really cares about – the state that everyone assumes lives under continuous cyclones and is full of poor people – the state that if holds any value whatsoever for the outside world is mainly because it has been bestowed with abundant mineral resources. My cooks – who had never sent any sms so far in their lives – were determined to help their poor state-mates in their endeavour. They could have simply asked me to send off an sms from my cell but they brought their own mobile and all they asked me was to type out the two words PD and sms it to the number that they had memorized. I did it for them. Oh how elated they looked.

Life might be worthless but it is beautiful once in a while. I might be lonely but I am happy once in a while. Live on! :)

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Phirst time & lasht time lowe I have done re

Sometimes, playing music soothes the mind – especially on Sundays like today when you are lost in nowhere. Here, sharing a piece of my Sunday with all ya folks! Keep happy.

PS: Chords are from Jamstudio.com and the instrument used to play was a Chromatic Harmonica (Suzuki SCX-64)

PS2: But seriously, who eats Gilahari ke joothe matar? Thoo!

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