Revolution 2020

Revolution 2020 - Chetan Bhagat
   ... and on Chetan Bhagat in general.

Quite a lot has been said about the publicity strategy of Amish Tripathi's Shiva Trilogy - a youtube video that went viral. I think that though the form is new, the strategy - Internet publicity by a first-time author, targeted for the "intelligentsia" - has actually been put to use much earlier. How many of you heard of Chetan Bhagat, before his first book, "Five Point Someone" was published? Well, I was amongst the ones who did - by virtue of being an IITD alumni - I received a mail on the IIT e-group, announcing the forthcoming launch of his first book - from an IITian, about the IITians. The very fact, and an excerpt from the book, was sufficient to arouse curiosity and interest, and I waited in eager anticipation for the book.

I must say that 'Five Point Someone' lived up to the expectations. I loved it, and so did almost everyone whom I recommended it to. Anyone who has stayed in a hostel, specially in an engineering college, could identify with it; being an alumni of the same college as the novel is set in, I could identify much more with the places and the lingo. By his own admission, Chetan Bhagat didn't have any literary pretensions, but it was definitely a good story. And it naturally created a lot of expectations from his future works.

Then came the second book, One Night @ Call Centre. The bad reviews not withstanding, my hopes/expectations led me to go for it. And what a waste! To say that I didn't like it at all, would be an understatement. And after "Three Mistakes of My Life", I finally gave up on Chetan Bhagat. It appeared that he had stopped writing for the sake of telling a story, and instead started writing in order to make a movie. 

So, when "Revolution 2020" came out, I didn't have any intention of reading it. But some of my friends recommended it quite enthusiastically, so I picked it up for a journey I was making alone (and therefore had time to pass). 

The book is set in the town of Varansi, and traces the journey of its three main characters - two guys and a girl - from childhood to adulthood, as they struggle to decide and achieve what they want from life. There are little successes, and a lot of failures, which is what life usually is. The one who aspires and craves for what he considers "success" is far from it, while  the other who does not want it, wins it easily - the irony of life! The concept/story was good, but the treatment could have been much much better. The tracks that it narrates are quintessentially bollywod. There is the love triangle - both guys love the girl, the fight between mind and heart (money vs principles) - one guy on either side, and the girl is in an unimaginative dilemma. Apart from the melodrama, I found the character of the girl quite badly developed - little more than a prop, and as unpredictable as the cliched college-lore wisdom portrays them.

If the book tried to give us a flavor of Varanasi, well I did not get it. Could it be because I have never even been there? Because, a friend who hails from Varanasi, really loved it and said that it gave her a nostalgia. I think it was much better than the previous two works of his that I read, though not as good as the first one. Is it because his are essentially college stories, and we have outgrown them? I'm not sure I would ever be able to get an answer to these Qs.

All said and done, I still have hope that Chetan Bhagat can be a good writer some day. I loved his first book, and also liked his non-fiction articles that I came across in newspapers or Internet. I feel that the reason his first book was such a success because it was honest, a story he wanted to tell. So if he just tells a story, and stop worrying about the commercializing part (read, making a movie), the commerce part will take care of itself.

Can you count?

The learning abilities of kids are really amazing - you dont even know what they learn from where. This is a phase that all children go through, but its quite a revelation for first time parents.

We were quite amazed when, at around 3 years of age, Sid could recognize all the numbers from 0 to 9, even though all that we and his playschool teachers had been trying to get him to recognize, was the alphabet. Soon we realized that he has learnt to recognize numbers from using/being in lifts.

Many of you might have heard the joke where a gambler's son recites the counting as : A, 2, ... 9, 10, J, Q, K. I no longer think that it is a joke. Because, I recently got to hear from Sid this version of the nursery rhyme "Five little monkeys":

5 little monkeys jumping on the bed ...
...
1 little monkey ...
0 little monkeys ...
'Basement' little monkeys ... ?!!

Plan B

Preparations for Christmas celebrations are on full swing at Sid's school, and he has been seeing Christmas decorations coming up in markets. So he is quite excited these days, and believes that Santa will be bringing him whatever he wants (and oh, is the list long! and comprises entirely of toys, almost all of them cars!!).

It has become almost a daily ritual, usually a bed-time one, asking/telling what gift he wants for Christmas. Yesterday night, he said that he wanted Lightning McQueen's friend (He's big time into "Cars" movie these days). Then he added that he wanted another McQueen. And another car, and so on.
Us: You cannot get so many gifts. Santa cannot bring so many toys for you.
Sid: Santa has so big bag.
Us: Par usme sab bachhon ke liye gift hote hain. Santa cannot get so many gifts for one kid.
Sid: But I want so many. [again, repeats the endless list].
Us: Agar aap itne sare gifts mangoge to kuch bhi gift nahin milega.
Sid: Kyun Papa? I want all of these.
Us: Santa can only get you one or two toys. If you ask for so many, Santa will get confused and not get anything for you.
Sid: To ham shop se le aayenge!!!

And then followed an uncontrollable fit of laughter and giggling, which didn't let us keep our faces straight either.

First Things First

This sunday, coming back from weekly grocery shopping we got late, and decided to stop at McDonald's as Sid was hungry. He got all excited at the prospect, and asked for French Fries (I wish he would prefer burger, as it is more filling, and relatively less unhealthy, but he does not like burgers). 

 

At McD's while N stood in the queue to place an order, we waited. But within a few seconds, Sid saw the display window for the current toys they give with the "Happy Meal", and went to admire the toys (though he doesn't yet know the concept of "Happy Meal", he sure knows all about toys. And how to manipulate parents. And I'm sure other parents hate their marketing strategy as much as I do!). Then he started pulling me to the display, "Main aapko ek cheez dikhata hoon" - there, on display were toys with the "Puss In Boots" theme. Sid started asking for a toy, "mujhe bhi toy lena hai", in that smiling-pleading-naughty-insisting tone of his. I told him that he couldn't get it, and as he started throwing a tantrum, I asked him - "What do you want, Fries or Toy?". He calmly replied, "Fries", came down to the table with me, sat down, patiently waited, and then cheerily had his fries. When he finished, I took him to wash his hands and face, and he easily complied. 

 

And only while coming back from the washroom he asked "Now can I get the toy?"

Irrefutable Logic

You cant argue with kids' logic. However funny it may sound, however unthinkable it might be to grown-ups before you actually hear them say it, you can't really refute their reasoning.

*

One evening I reached home to find Sid's jacket sleeves all smeared up with something, and asked him about it.

Me: "Ye aapki jacket par kya laga hua hai?"

Sid: "Paint. Maine aaj school mein painting ki."

Me: "To aapne jacket utari kyun nahin? Dekho sari gandi ho gayee."

Sid: "Nahi to phir shirt gandi ho jati na."

*

Sid has so far been a bona-fide momma's boy. Despite all that papa does for him, getting him ready, feeding him, playing with him, and being more patient with him than momma is, time to time, for no reason, he'd state "Papa gande hain", "papa nahin achhe lagte", "momma chahiye, papa nahin chahiye" etc ...

When he stated this yet again one evening, I tried to correct him once more: "Nahin beta, aise nahin kahte sare time. Papa aapka kina dhyan rakhte hain, aapka kaam karte hain, aapki niche lekar jate hain, aapko subah van par chodte hain, shaam ko ghar lekar aate hain ..."

So, Sid, all innocence, asks, "momma phir aap gande ho kya?"

*

Usually, Sid is always going on about growing up big, and growing up fast. But sometimes, once in a rare while, he wants to be cuddled and babied.

Sid: "Mumma mujhke phir se bahut little baby banna hai"

Me: "Aisa to nahin ho sakta, chote thodi hote hain. Aur aapko little kyun banna hai?"

Sid: "Nahin mujhko phir se little banna hai" [kids dont always give a reason, just state the facts as the reason itself :-)]

Me (wistfully): "Beta phir se little to mujhko bhi banna hai"

Sid (in fight mode): "Nahin aapko nahin banna. Mujhe banna hai"

Me: "Par kyun? Mujhe kyun nahin banna?"

Sid: "Phir main kiske pass rahoonga?"

Prejudices at Work - Part 3

(I am changing the title of these posts, as the original one seemed to convey something else than what I wanted to express, though I am not sure if this one is much better).

I think discrimination is nothing but bias exaggerated, and it may be difficult to define a boundary between the two. At times, the discrimination can be stark and direct, and there are laws to deal with it, though the effectiveness of these laws has always been a question. But most often, it is subtler - indirect hints that keep affirming that despite your competence, you will never be considered at par with your male colleagues, that you will never be one of the team. Let me share two incidents, which are work-related, but not entirely professional, which go on to show the inherent behavioral insensitivity towards women.

The global head of the group my friend K works for, came to her site for a visit, and the site manager invited all his managers for dinner with him. That is, all the managers except K, who, being the only woman in the group, was conveniently forgotten. Only when they reached the restaurant, the site manager was reminded of his omission. He called up K (even apologized!), but by then it was too late for her to make suitable arrangements for her family and reach there.

Another time, my group planned a day outing to celebrate a major release. The fun activities planned for the group consisted of rather physical games of football and cricket – which the few ladies in the team just watched on, feeling left-out, and somehow, betrayed.

Most of the corporates today deny having a glass ceiling for women, but practically, is it difficult to detect its existence? Though this was not the idea behind this set of posts, it was perhaps inevitable that we touch upon this point as well (Perhaps because the initial title was not very apt). Anyway, I had a long discussion on this with N, but he does not agree with me here. But in my view, though the gender ratio at the entry level is same as that in engineering colleges, it gets more and more skewed as the levels increase.

In my decade long stint in my previous company, in the India office I saw only one woman who was a Director (though in a non-product group), and none who was an Architect. [Just to explain the terminology used there, a Director is the owner of a product or an area from management perspective, while Architect is the owner from technical perspective]. I am citing here the experience from my previous company, as I am rather new in the new one to comment, but I strongly suspect that the things are more or less the same.

So, almost all the senior executives in the company were male. And rare few of them had working wives. Most of the wives quit working after marriage/kids, to take care of the household, since the high-flying executives were often busy and/or away on business, gearing up the power ladder, and could not be depended on to consistently attend to domestic responsibilities. I’m sure all these ladies are happy and proud of their spouses’ success, and only sometimes do they wistfully mention their own abandoned dreams. But how many of them have their contribution to this success acknowledged? Mostly, it is just shrugged as a matter-of-fact – “Oh. She quit after we got married”. A gallant way indeed to thank the ladies for their support, sacrifice and hard work.

Here are:

Part 1

Part 2

Prejudices at Work - Part 2

I intuitively suspect a man’s general regard for women, if he talks about specific woman(en) in a demeaning manner, to me or in my presence. It is worse when the man in question is a colleague. The worst is when the woman he makes degrading statements about, happens to be his wife – who takes care of the entire family, and may have sacrificed her own career and interests to do so. [I am more tolerant of jokes against women in general. I view them as fun extracted by majority at the expense of minority, as the gender ratio at workplace is still heavily inclined towards men].

Why do I think this kind of behavior makes the matters worse, when exhibited at workplace? Because, I would think that being highly educated, and after years of working alongside women who have similar accomplishments as themselves, these men would be able to cast aside their prejudices. However, things do not seem to have progressed much in the last decade or so, since I started working. Despite active and increasing contribution from women, the IT industry is still male-dominated, and it follows that you will have many more male colleagues than female, and will frequently encounter prejudiced individuals.

After a few times you have heard your colleague(s) making degrading statements, you start wondering what kind of regard they have for women; and specifically if they have any respect for you, on to whether they take you seriously at all. As it is, women have to work harder to prove themselves and attain any kind of success, in a male bastion, and it becomes very difficult to keep yourself motivated, when you feel that your sincere efforts are being undermined, just because of your gender.

Some people I know, do not accord much importance to the work of their wives, implying that it is undertaken just as a pastime - since the ladies are holding a teaching job, or are working part-time or freelance. Even though, many of these ladies have quit their full-time jobs to look after the family. So much for their selflessness. 

Many of them do not want their wives to work, or want them to quit, so that the family can be taken appropriate care of; at times expressing it in blatantly honest terms – so that they always have good, warm, home-cooked lavish meals (of course, without having to contribute any efforts towards the preparation).

I have friends, who, after working hard for a number of years to build up a great career, quit or took a break for some years, to spend time and enjoy with their little ones. Do you think this was what they achieved? The result was – the family figured that since they were home full-time, they had a lot of free time, and they were therefore swamped with all the chores, leaving them little time for what they took the break for.

As progressive they might believe themselves to be, quite a large percentage of the men still believe that devoting themselves to caring for house and family is the duty of women, and it is their primary responsibility. And sadly, many women are also conditioned to believe the same. Don’t get me wrong, I do not have anything against women who prefer to stay home to look after the family [though I firmly believe in the importance of financial independence], but note the emphasis on “preference” here.

The bottom-line is, if you look at it, it is hard to be appreciated either way. Go to work, and you are guilty of neglecting the family. Don’t, and there’s not much worth given to you.  Can we hope for a time, when women have the complete freedom to make their own decisions, without the burden of expectations from everyone around them? And whatever this decision is, be respected for it?


Here is : Part 1

Simple questions - no answers

Its no secret that I am rather fond of old hindi movie songs. After only a few times when an old song was playing on TV, and Sid was told, "yeh mumma ka song hai", he also imbibed this fact. Thereafter, whenever an old song comes up, Sid states, "yeh mumma ka song aa raha hai" (though how he makes a distinction, we have absolutely no idea).

Yesterday evening I was sitting alone in the TV room, and Sid was playing and running about. He came into the room, noticed "Kajrare" playing, only for a moment, and told me, "Ye to aapka song nahin hai!".

I borrowed his favorite phrase, and asked "To kya hua?"
He replied, as a matter-of-fact, "Phir kyun dekh rahe ho?"

***

Sid: This is not your song

Me: So what?

Sid: Then why are you watching it?

Prejudices at Work - Part 1

Gender bias and stereotyping has left me concerned and unnerved quite often, more so in the work environment. It does not mean that I do not see or feel the bias in the social or personal setting – I have gone through phases of realization, frustration, revolt and resignation, in this context. But right now, it’s in the context of professional environment, that I want to rant against.

Let me clarify at the beginning that I am not a hard-core male-bashing feminist [the diametrically opposite stereotype, if I may so call it so]. However, I do expect, and demand, a dignity and empathy for women and a recognition of their efforts in different aspects of life. And this should be a woman’s fundamental right - whether she is working (full-time, part –time, or freelance), or is a home-maker. This is a post that I have been thinking of writing for a long time, but which was always getting deferred, and was finally precipitated by an incident at work today.

I was having lunch with two of my (male) colleagues, let’s call them P and J [and no, this is not a PJ ;-)]. To set a bit of context, they have only been slightly acquainted with each other, but I know them both reasonably well. During the course of conversation, they discovered a mutual interest in consumer electronics, they are both gadget freaks, owning full-fledged home-theater systems and what-not. Finding that J is quite knowledgeable about deeper technical aspects of all these things [no surprises there actually – J is a hardware engineer ;-)], P sought his advise on buying the latest iPhone (4) – which model to buy, and how to get an unlocked one from US (lower cost there). While discussing pros and cons, pricing and timing, of different models, P mentioned that he wanted it for his wife, who only uses her phone for calls, and sometimes for mails (a condescending tone there – at her not using the advanced features of smart phones, and I can assure you that it is not because of the lack fo capability). And J promptly replied – in a tone I found even more condescending to women - then you can buy 3Gs only. 

I am all for buying (and paying for), only what you need/use. But I object to the tone and the attitude, reserved by men for women, for certain matters like technology.

The conversation continued in this vein (like, P said he tried to get his wife to use FB on her phone, but she didn’t, and J said the same about his). For a while, I put up with it. Then I finally reacted (with as much dignity and humor I could manage), and said, you sound almost like a racist there. And then, the fire was directed at me

P/J:, do you use iPhone?

Me: Only some times, since its not mine, but I use iPod touch for net access.

P/J: How many apps do you use on it?

Me: (Thinking and wondering): I don’t really use apps. I don’t need ….

P/J: See, there! Anyway! So, what do you do with it?

Me: (rightfully indignant) Well I do all my net access at home through it, my mail, FB, LinkedIn, Browser etc. Don’t really need to access net for anything else.

P/J: Well, you know, there is a difference between accessing FB and Gmail through the apps and the browser … you can access using browser as well ….

Folks?!! Come on!! I take it as a gross insult, for myself, and the whole of woman-kind. We may be from Venus, but the gravity there is not high enough to pull down and out, all of logical reasoning from our beings. I was mad enough to shout at them, but was held back by the decorum demanded by the workplace (and not to mention, my personal incapability of coming up with an acidic retort at the right time).

Of a copy-cat and sleepy conversations

I dont know whether other kids his age do the same, but Sid is a total copy-cat. He wants to do/get whatever other kid(s) he is playing with has. He is also a human version of a repeater station - echoing the actions and words of the child he is playing with - creating funny scenes more than a few times (and sometimes not-so-funny ones, at least for us).

Since we moved to B'lore, Sid has found a playmate in A, the boy next door, who is a few months older than him; the two create a storm all the time, and are pretty much inseparable. Sunday morning, they were playing together when A had to leave as his parents were going out. First, Sid threw a tantrum that he has no one to play with - "Ab main kiske saath kheloonga" [crying with copious tears]. At such times, he refuses to acknowledge that he has loads of fun doing crazy stuff with us at other times - "main aap dono ke saath nahin khel sakta" [more crying]. After a while, he got into his head, that since A has gone out, he also has to go out - anywhere.

Trying to pacify him, I told him, OK we will also go somewhere. We had to go to the market in the evening, but he had to have lunch and afternoon nap in the meanwhile. Calmer, he started asking when will we go - "ham kabhi kayenge", "ham kahan ja rahe hain". Ok, so, out of the frying pan, and into the fire :-) Trying to think of a way out, I told him that we'll go when papa has taken his bath and is ready, hoping he'll get busy with something else and forget it. After few minutes, Sid cheered up and started playing, and I heaved a sigh of relief that my trick had worked. But as soon as N was out of the bathroom, the questions started again, "ham ja kyun nahin rahe" - so much for my smartness!

With much difficulty we managed to get him to have his lunch, telling him that we would leave after lunch. And then tried putting him to sleep, promising that we will go after he wakes up. Anyone who has kids would know what I am talking of; anyone who hasn't, can't imagine the challenge :-)

Anyway, he always resists sleeping (as most kids do!), even if he is literally dozing standing up, and on this particular day, he had an alternate agenda. When he gets quiet sleepy, he gets rather confused, gaining hold of conciousness in bursts in between, resulting in some amusing conversations.
"mujhe nahin sona" 

"acchha mat so, bas let jao"
"main to nahin so-oonga"
"acchha eyes close karke let jao"
"Ham kabhi jayenge"
"Abhi 10 minutes mein jayenge. 10 minutes ke liye eyes close kar lo"
"mujhe neend nahin aa rahi"
"main theek se nahin let pa raha"
"mujhe kahin jana hai"
"mujhe poora blanket ke andar kar do"
"ham ja kyun nahin rahe"

We can barely control our laughter at the flip-flop, when all of a sudden he gets alert and says, "mere pet mein bahut zor dard ho raha hai". I get slightly alarmed (as he had had a slight upset the previous day, and had thrown up his evening milk, along with the lunch and snack he had earlier), but I'm not sure there is actually anything wrong, so casually ask him, "potty to nahin aayee?".
"nahin uske liye nahi ho raha. potty nahin aa rahi"
"To phir kis liye dard ho raha hai"
"Ham kahin gaye nahin uske liye ho raha hai"

Hats I win, tails you lose!

As I mentioned earlier, Sid is under an (obviously mistaken, from our perspective) impression that he has grown up "big" and can accomplish a lot.

One day, as he was on a swing (with me pushing him), he started leaning fully backwards, and doing all sorts of acrobatics.

I cautioned him, "Aap gir jaoge"

Sid: "Main nahin giroonga. Main aise kar pata hoon, main big ho gaya hoon"

(pointing to some younger children): "Woh to aise kar bhi nahin pate. Woh itne big hue bhi nahin hain"

Me: "OK, aap big ho gaye ho na, apne aap jhool lo" (stop pushing him)

Sid: "Nahin abhi main itna bhi big nahin hoon!"

*** *** ***
Me: You will fall down
Sid: I wont fall. I can do this, I've grown up! They cant even do this, they are not as big as I am
Me: Ok, so you are big, you can swing yourself
Sid: No, I am not that big yet!
*** *** ***

These days, whatever we tell him, he has a ready response. And its always like, hats I win, tails you lose!

The Collector's Wife

The Collector's Wife - Mitra Phukan

I had heard neither of the book, nor the author. So, this is one of the rare books that I bought on the basis of the blurb on the cover, and which did not disappoint.

It offers a wonderful insight into the life in a small town in the north-east. Set against the backdrop of insurgency in Assam, it is a poignant portrayal of  the changes brought about by militancy, in the lives of people there.

The protagonist of the novel, Rukmini Bezobaruah, is married to the District Collector of a small town called Parbatpuri in Assam. It is easy to believe that she leads a very comfortable and content life, as part of privileged/elite section of the society. As the DC's wife, she enjoys the luxury of a big house located in a picturesque location, well staffed with servants, and an official vehicle at her disposal for any traveling she wants to do. However, in truth, she finds her life a banal monotone. Her husband is not able to spend much time with her and is becoming increasingly remote, primarily because of the demands of his job, but perhaps also because of the dullness brought about by years of matrimony. She is not yet a mother, and at times, faces contempt because of this reason, despite her elated position. Her own ambition of becoming a writer, or even of holding a regular job, have been thwarted, because of the society's expectations from her as the DC's wife. The only suitable (or perhaps, least disagreeable) work she can find, to fill her time, is as a part-time lecturer at the district college. Even here, though she is able to connect with some of her students, she is unable to interest them in poetry, or even in learning, as they become involved in the agitation. The tasks that she is expected to perform with easy grace - heading various societies, hosting community functions, visiting local club - she finds extremely boring and unsuited to her skills and her intellect. In all, she  is facing an emotional and intellectual deprivation, and has more or less resigned to it.

She is able to beat this monotony and find some cheer in her life, when she finds a friend and a source of intellectual stimulation in Manoj Mahanta, a tyre salesman who visits her town once in a while. Her loneliness and distress leads to an intimacy between the two, and she reaches the cross-roads of life, a great dilemma.

However, the grip of terror has been tightening in the meanwhile, with frequent reports of kidnappings and murders, some of them close home. And then, the great turmoil of her life terminates with horrifying and tragic end.

Usually I do not prefer to outline the story, but in this case I felt a need, to be able to describe my impressions. It left me sad, thoughtful and moved, but overall I found it a good read. I wouldn't say that the story is something new. But the narrative is threaded together well, the main asset of the book though is the author's ability to convey the "mood" - the loneliness and desperation of Rukmini, the excitement of meeting someone new and of defying conventions, the freshness of love, despair and grief in the face of terror, are all very well described, are all very real. One can readily feel and empathize with Rukmini as she moves through various phases. The end is tragic, but then, so is life.

Down the Memory Lane - X

One good turn ...

My father worked for a manufacturing unit of an industrial house, and the company had a residential colony for its staff, which was something of a mini-city. The (single-storey) houses  were called as “quarters” (Back then I didn’t give much thought to it, now it seems rather funny to me).

At one time, our house was next to the one allotted to the colony doctor. He used to play bhajans every morning, and it amused me no end to listen him playing this one (by kavi Pradeep):
“Doosro.n ka dukhda door karne wale, tere dukh door kare.nge Ram!”
[You, who alleviate the pain of others, your pain will be alleviated by God]

The Lonley Sea

The Lonely Sea – Alistair McLean

‘The Lonely Sea’ is a collection of all the short stories written by Alistair McLean over his entire career, starting with his first story ‘The Dileas’, that launched his career as a writer. The stories encompass a wide range of plots; the common thread, as the name suggests, being a connection with the sea, in one form or other. He has an unmatched gift in writing about sea, and I think it would be his career in the Royal Navy during the war, that armed him with this skill.

Nearly half of the stories in this collection are non-fictional accounts of wartime encounters – tales of heroism, sacrifice, bravery, as well as of tragedy, and bureaucratic  blunders. The stories are extremely well written, vivid, and engaging. Unfortunately, I didn’t like these so much, because after a point they started having a lot of similarity, but more so, because they are invariably gory, depicting massive destruction, tragedy and loss. Such stories leave me quite sad, and disenchanted with humankind.

The others are fictional, with quite a variety in theme and tone, some of them are light-hearted, and some serious. These, I loved. Most of these have a twist in the end, very like O. Henry (another author I love!).

The edition I have also includes a newspaper article by McLean, titled “The Rewards and Responsibilities of success”, an interesting read. The highlight of the article would be an honest opinion of himself as a writer – he admits to no literary pretence (let alone greatness), but his purpose to entertain the readers. Or, as we can put it, to give everyone (the publisher and the readers) a worth for their money.

The Way to Dusty Death

The Way to Dusty Death – Alistair McLean

The background is Formula 1 racing (and perhaps the only book I’ve read with this context), and quite interesting as such. The story itself is not so much about racing, but about more sinister under-goings, - not unexpectedly so, as McLean’s forte is spy thrillers. But I do not want to divulge the actual theme here for anyone who may happen to look at my post before reading the book. Only a hint, in words of Johnny Harlow (the hero of the book) - "There are other ways to a dusty death than losing control on a racing track".

I enjoyed this, as always is the case with McLean for me. The suspense, the turn of events at a pace that you can’t even blink your eyes, the protagonist with no training in any related field, but skills that turn out to be extra-ordinary than an intelligence officer, are sufficient to keep one engaged and at an edge for a few hours. However, it doesn’t compare too well against some of his other works, like The Guns of Navaraone, Ice Station Zebra, The Satan Bug. A typical characteristic of McLean’s novels is that nobody and nothing are actually what they appear to be. It’s true to a large extent in Dusty Death as well,  but only for the majority of other characters of the book; for the reader, the suspense is more or less uncovered quite early in the book.

As a die-hard McLean fan, I would recommend it to anyone who loves thrillers. It has all the content for an action movie (even a romance angle, unlike most of his other novels). I am aware of many movies based on his novels, have seen a couple; I hadn’t heard of a movie based on this one, but a quick search revealed there is one. Whether or not there already exists a movie on this one, I think Indian movie makers could do well to take an “inspiration” from this book, should do well in the view of the F1 fever gripping the country right now :-P

The Inheritance of Likes

It is not just qualities/characteristics/traits that we inherit from our parents. I believe we also inherit (or perhaps, some would say, develop) likes and dislikes from our parents. When my brother and I were young, our parents inculcated and encouraged  a reading habit in us. Dad used to get some very nice books for us whenever he went on trips, and we invariably bought books from those “Wheeler & Co” stalls at railway stations when we traveled by train. Living in the small town that we did, we didn’t have any other source for reading material. So, as we grew older, we resorted to experimenting with books from Dad’s collection. And that is from where I acquired a liking for Alistair McLean, Desmond Bagley, and Gardner’s Perry Mason – he had a huge range of these.

McLean is a particular favorite of mine. I love his style (I think I’ve mentioned that earlier in this blog) for the fast paced action, and witty dialogue exchanges. I read many of his novels from Dad’s collection, and over the years, proceeded to complete reading and/or collecting all of his works. Between three of us (Dad, Bro and I) we should be having most (if not all) of McLean’s novels, likely  with some duplication.

I haven’t read much in last three years, and therefore didn’t buy anything, except perhaps some books for Sid. Another reason for not being able to buy is unending interruptions from Sid whenever I enter a bookstore. Finally, last month I had some uninterrupted time to spend in a bookshop, and bought some books after a long time. Any surprises that two of these are by McLean – The Way to Dusty Death (which I’ve read before) and The Lonely Sea (Short stories, which I haven’t read). I also got Love in the Time of Cholera – of which I have heard a lot, but never got around to reading.

Bas Itna Sa Khwab Hai

As all boys do, Sid is extremely fond of cars. And, like all boys [young or old ;-)], he thinks – bigger the better. Yesterday, as N was reading the newspaper, he saw the picture of a car,

Sid: “papa, ye wali car le lo”.

N:  “Nahin papa ye wali car nahin le sakte”

Sid: “kyun?”

N: “Papa ke pass itne paise nahin hain”

Sid: “To kya hua?” [incidentally, his one of his favorite lines these days]

N:  “Nahin beta papa ke paas itne paise nahin hain. Papa bik jayenge to bhi ye nahin khareed sakte”

Sid: [Not understanding a word, specially of the second sentence]: “Papa ye acchi car hai, aap ye le lo”

At this point, I asked what car was he talking of. It was a Formula F1 :-)

N: [Trying a different line of reasoning]: “Saath mein ye wali car road par nahin chalti. Ye to racing track par hi chal pati hai.

Sid: “To kya hua? Racing track bhi le lo”

We burst out laughing.

Me: “Aap Vijay Mallaya ko kaho ki aapko adopt kar le”

N: “Aap Mukesh Ambani ki beti se shadi kar lo”

We: “Phir aap car aur track dono le sakte ho”

And Sid looked on bewildered at both of us laughing hysterically.

Changing Strategies

Sid’s methods of persuasion have changed rapidly in last few months – from requests to threats.

A few months back, if he wanted something, he would use the following sequence of statements:

1. )    “Mummy/papa, … kar do” 
2. )    “Please … kar do na” 
3. )    “Main please bol raha hoon, ab to kar do”.

Now, its “Mummy/papa, … kar do, nahin to …”, a common one being “nahin to main aapke saath kheloonga nahin”. A few times we tried responding with, “Ok. Hamare liye to accha hi hai”, but sarcasm is obviously lost on him. But often we humor him, and say, “Nahin, aap please khelna mere saath, abhi kar dete hain”.

A few days back, when I was putting him to sleep, he again tried the his tried-and-tested stratagem:

Sid: “… kar do, nahin to ….”

Me: “Nahin to kya karoge?”

Sid: [thinks for a while] “Nahin to main aapko chod kar chala jaoonga”

Me: [suppressing my laughter] “Kahan chale jaoge?”

Sid: “Main aapko chod kar bahut door chla jaoonga” [and, adds as an afterthought] “papa ke saath”

Me: [Now laughing] “Accha jaao”

Sid: Nahin kal jaoonga. Abhi jane ka time nahin hai.

Concepts of growing up

Kids seem to think that they have always been this old (as they are at any given time), think of themselves as very big and important, and of younger kids as rather insignificant, and cannot imagine that they themselves had been younger at one time. And this makes for a lot of interesting discussions.

For a while now, Sid is taking a lot of pride in being "big, of three years". He thinks that he can do a lot of things, which "little babies" (in essence, all kids younger than him) cannot. The littlest babies are of "0 years" and cannot do anything at all. And he hates [a blow to his ego? :-)] that some of his playmates are older than him. For example, he'll start crying that 'A' is 4 years old, while he is only 3. We try to console him that on his next birthday, he will also be 4. Then he cheers up a little too much and says that he will then be 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. We then have to inflate the balloon of his happiness, that 'A' won't stay 4 forever - he will be 11 when Sid is 10. And this is a frequent theme of conversation in our home.

Also, though he cannot quite understand that he had been much younger and grew up, he has accepted the fact from our regular assertions, but he still cannot comprehend that there was a time when he just wasn't there. So, from endless questions, he has developed his own inferences.

Another conversation on these themes yesterday night goes like:

Sid: [another half-sleepy crying fit on being younger than 'A']

Me: [deplyoing pacifying tactics] Par aap 3 years ke ho, 'R' aur 'S' se big ho. Wo to abhi 3 years ki hui bhi nahin

Sid: Wo dono 3 years ki kab hongi?

Me: Thode dinon mein unka b'day aayega, tab wo 3 years ki ho jayengi. [for good measure] Aap to itne din pahle jab aapka b'daya tha, 3 years ke ho bhi gaye the.

[Quite a bit of going around in circles around this]

Sid: Jab mera b'day aaya tha, tab main 3 ka ho gaya? Uske pahle main 2 years ka tha?

Me: [Giving up trying to explain that you grow gradually, b'day doesn't suddenly make you an year older]. Haan.

Sid: Kyun?

Me: [Trying to close the topic and go to sleep]: Kyunki aap 3 years pahle born hue the. aap hamare paas 3 years pahle aaye the.

Sid: [Absolutely no intention of sleeping] Tab mujhe aapki yaad aa rahi thi.

Me: Kab?

Sid: Jab aap mere paas nahin the. Mujhe aapki yaad aa rahi thi aur main ro raha tha.

Me: [Perplexed and alarmed] Ham kab aapke paas nahin the? Ham to hamesha aapke paas the.

Sid: Nahin, jab main sky mein tha.

Me: Aap sky mein kab the?

Sid: Jab main 0 years ka tha uske pahle. Tab main bhagwanji ke paas tha aur main ro raha tha.

Uh oh. Couldnt think of anything but to hug him and tell him, isiliye bhagwanji ne aapko hamare paas bhej diya.

***

A translation of the conversation ....

Sid: [another half-sleepy crying fit on being younger than 'A']

Me: [deplyoing pacifying tactics] But you are 3 years old, older than 'R' and 'S'. They arent even 3 yet.

Sid: When will they turn 3?

Me: They'll have their birthdays after few days, then they will also be 3 [for good measure] You turned 3 so many days back, when you had yur b'day..

[Quite a bit of going around in circles around this]

Sid: On my b'day I became 3? Before that, was I 2?

Me: [Giving up trying to explain that you grow gradually, b'day doesn't suddenly make you an year older]. Yes.

Sid: Why?

Me: [Trying to close the topic and go to sleep]: Because you were 3 years ago. You came to us 3 years ago.

Sid: [Absolutely no intention of sleeping] I was missing you then.

Me: When?

Sid: When you weren't there with me. I was missing you and crying for you.

Me: [Perplexed and alarmed] But when were we not with you? We have been with you always.

Sid: No, when I was in the sky.

Me: When were you in sky?

Sid: Oh, when I was 0 years, before that. Then I was with God, and crying for you.

Uh oh. Couldnt think of anything but to hug him and tell him, That's why God sent you to us.

Some more reading experiences

Another change in my daily routine is that instead of driving to work, I'm using the office cab. I last used the office conveyance more than 7 years ago, and then it used to be a bus - those were quite fun days. But I digress. So, there are 3-5 people in the cab, some days we chat, some days we don't. In the initial days, we usually didn't. So, even though it was only 25-30 minutes commute, I thought I might utilize it catch up on long-neglected reading. Didnt want to read anything heavy, so started with some relatively light re-reading.

First picked up "To Kill A Mocking Bird" (had read it twice earlier, 13 and 8 years ago, I think). Enjoyed it, as ever. Simple, endearing, enriching. Though, to be honest, read the last part of it in a quiet hour I managed to snatch at home. 

Next, I started on "The Bridges of Madison County". Had read it twice or thrice earlier, more than 6 years ago, and had seen the movie as well. I had mixed feelings about the movie, even though it was directed by and starred Clint Eastwood - I found it really well made, but very slow. The book though had a big impact on me - I had found it very intense, and extremely sad - so much so, that for years, I didnt want to read it again. But anyway, I thought it was good time to enjoy it again. Imagine my surprise - halfway through, I realized I wasn't enjoying it half as much as I did earlier. The intensity didnt come through, and there were parts that I found kitschy - particularly the part describing the love affair. I tried to see the reason for this extreme difference in experience. You change with time, and experience is undoubtedly a factor of the mental state. So was it because I have grown up and matured, that I didnt find the idealistic story quite realistic/creditable? Or was it because I read it on my short commutes, with so many breaks and interruptions, and therefore didnt get involved with the story? To try to get an answer, I looked for some reviews. Another surprise - the book, even though a huge best-seller, was panned as limp and overdone, while the movie was highly acclaimed. Perhaps time to revisit the movie.

There is an amusing incident for me, associated with this book. I still clearly remember the first time I read it - in IITD hostel, lying down in the common room, a borrowed copy. Few years after that, I remembered this book, and wanted a copy of my own. For a long time, I looked for it in all the bookshops, online stores, but it was out of print. Some of my close friends had assisted me in this search and so knew of my near-desperation. After looking for it for months, I finally found it in a bookstore, along with a sequel (A thousand country roads)!! I spared no time or second thoughts in purchasing them both. Barely a few days after this was my birthday, and I received a copy of TBoMC from a dear friend as a gift! And, another set of both books (from then my "good friend", and now my better half), who had located them in an online store and ordered them for me as a surprise!! Patience and perseverance rewarded in thrice? :-D

A Thousand Splendid Suns

In my new profile of having two full-time jobs (the regular work, and you guessed it, a growing-up kid), one of the things I miss is the leisure of curling up with a book, with no worry of mundane chores, and more important, no interruptions. In this while, I have barely been able to read. Three books in three years - sort of a record for me - a record low, that is :-). And whatever reading I managed was rather hurried, and a while ago. In no way sufficient to write a review, as I had been doing earlier for the books I was reading. Still, I'll try to capture whatever I can recollect of my impressions (for that is what my "reviews" typically are, I do not consciously try to outline the story).

A Thousand Splendid Suns - Khaled Hosseni

'The Kite Runner' had set quite high expectations for this one, and the editorial reviews/comments escalated them further. I was really looking forward to read this one, but by the time I got the book, I had a newborn to look after. To be honest, I almost rushed through it, omitting some parts here and there, that were not kind of contributing to the story, but to the picture. I might have had a different impression, if I had a chance to read it at more leisure, but I don't think I'll pick it up again to see if I missed things the first time around. Though I'm glad that I did manage to get through it.

I must say that it did not disappoint. It is a gripping and touching story, capturing the plight of women in Afghanistan quite well - their sheer helplessness in the face of constant contempt and abuse they are subjected to by men. Gender equality? I think they would be grateful if they are allowed to spend their lives, however constrained, with dignity. It reinforces how grief is a unifying factor like nothing else, and how hope can emerge, sustain, and win, even in the face of absolute dejection. It was highly engrossing - the reason I rushed through it, to at least read the story even if I could not manage to enjoy the book.

However, it did not quite live up the expectations. It seems to lack some of the distinguishing qualities of The Kite Runner - despite the constant feeling of sadness, Kite Runner didn't leave one gloomy. Kite Runner also presented a different kind of background - a land and culture which people in general are not very familiar with. Thousand Splendid Suns did not create that kind of interest, because of the more general theme. Also, I felt that at times, it was deliberately and dramatically stretched to paint a picture of misery so complete, that it was kind of trite. Perhaps this comes from reading more than a few stories by Indian authors, centered around the grief and pain of women that they suffer all alone.

Though I wonder if this is generally true for subsequent works of an author whose first work (or may be the first work one reads) creates a big impact with a radically new context and strong story? I remember this happened to me with Dan Brown - I simply loved Da Vinci Code, but didnt particularly like Angels and Demons. Some of my friends read Angels and Demons first, and admired it, but did not appreciate Da Vinci Code as much.

Soon to follow:

The Collector's Wife - Mitra Phukan

Mistress - Anita Nair

Filling in ...

Ah. After my determined resolution last week, I seem to be back to the square one - how and where to start. And all of a sudden, those numerous thoughts swirling in my mind seem to have disappeared away. Whew!

I might as well start with the reason for my long hiatus. The last post before my absence was on June 20th, 2008. My "life changing moment" occurred five days after that - Sid arrived into our life, turning it topsy-turvy :-) I now remember with a certain degree of amusement, that before he was born, how I planned to keep a record of his growing up years, his achievements, his deeds (and misdeeds), and my thoughts and reactions to it all, through my blog. And how, after he was here, I was just too occupied in the actual business of bringing him up, to even think about blogging! Now that he is three years old, he demands a lot of attention. To think of it, he did that earlier too - the only difference is that the reason for the demand has gone from physical needs to mental :-) Can I dare to hope for the things to improve, once he gets older, perhaps before the pressure for studies start?

In the last two years, I did get a few minutes to myself, here and there, abbreviated with needs for my intervention or attention, but this is hardly enough to think, and organize your thoughts, leave alone open a laptop (which  is something one can't do anyway, with a small kid around). I really don't understand whats it with kids and laptops - the laptops have a magnetic charm for them, even if you never ever play any videos and cartoons for them!

So, in last three years, I haven't blogged, I haven't read (except for a couple of books I managed to read in fragments, on solo flights or metro commutes), and I haven't travelled (except for one vacation last winter). To compensate for blogging and reading, I developed  a not-so-desirable addiction for facebook (which is something that can be managed in those short snatches of time, specially with the help of a wireless router and an iPod touch). To compensate for travelling, I picked up a near-obsession for photographing flowers, which is not that bad I think :-) I have been posting these pictures, that I took from my phone camera, in office, apartment complex, parks, or anywhere else I visited, on facebook. A number of times I considered posting them on my blog instead, but oh, the inertia!! This also brings me to blog vs facebook dilemma, but let me save this subject for another day.

The other major changes are relatively recent. I quit my first job after nearly ten-and-a-half years, and moved to a new workplace and a new city - something of a paradigm shift.

In last few months, I checked on the blogs I more or less regularly read (and not to forget, whose authors visited mine :-)). Some of them have stopped writing, and most of the rest are no longer active. Sad indeed.

And so I am back ...

... neither with a bang, nor with a whimper, but as normal as I can be :-)

My blogs have been severely neglected for over three years now. For last two years, and even more so the last one year, I have been giving a serious thought to resurrecting my blogging activities - there are so many thoughts take a seed in the mind, awaiting germination, taking root in imagination and consideration and concentration, and surface into the world. Thoughts craving for expression. And mind craving for some interaction [beyond "like" on Facebook, that is :-P ].

A lot has changed in this time, creating some real constraints on my activity here, the most significant being little uninterrupted time to concentrate and articulate. Though one of the major reasons is my organized/perfectionist self - I wanted to make my "comeback" well structured  - with appropriately described details and chronological events. Finally I came to terms with the fact that this is something that is not possible, realized that this is simply deferring my intent, and so I finally decided to make a start anyway, and with an idea that I'll pick up the threads here and there.