As a kid, I was fascinated with Christmas. A Christian family lived in the neighbourhood and we would get to see the Christmas tree decorations and eat donuts. In Diwali and Holi, we had this practice of going to the neighbours with a plate of homemade savoury dishes- mostly desserts. In Christmas, we were treated with somewhat Hindu-fied Christian custom where the family would send us homemade donuts and namkeens and we would accept them in the same spirit we accept ‘prasad’. This seems like a highly secular and morally uplifting event now but, those days, it was just something we did. So, aside from wondering why Hindus didn’t decorate a Christmas tree and why do some alphabet charts spell Christmas with an ‘X’, I never really had any deep profound thoughts about secularism. Continue reading “Weekly Prompt- Santa Clause- Abhyudaya Shrivastava”
Weekly Prompt- Santa Clause- By Jaspreet Taneja
Santa is a myth or reality has always preoccupied every child’s curiosity and I m no different. Since childhood, Santa has been an elusive mystery hard to get over with. I had a long list of unending saga of questions perplexing me since many years. I had resolved as a child to question him one day, first and foremost about the hierarchy that exists in our society and consequently the relevance of my existence! One has variegated riddles pertaining to multifarious puzzles recurring at diversified junctures in our earthly journey. One tries hard to resolve ethereal puzzles and sometimes completely disregards what is just around the next corner and thus creates a humungous web, a labyrinthine. It is not easy to come out of the confounding realities and myths which have indubitably led to the origin of the labyrinthine at the first place. Continue reading “Weekly Prompt- Santa Clause- By Jaspreet Taneja”
Booksplash 2015
Hi everyone,
‘So, what is everyone doing to chime in the new year?’ is the question I am not going to ask because I know how super annoying it can be. I am instead gonna talk about the booksplash event we had last Sunday. It was a nice small meetup (although 19 people had rsvped) and we had fun chatting about the books we had read in 2015. Here, I am gonna present a quick summary the booksplash event although I assure you that when we were talking books, we got so engaged that the meetup went on till 8 pm. We started out in Hauz Khas garden and then shifted to Garage Inc and then went on to Social (Hauz Khas). Only low point was the loud music at the cafes in HKV. Let’s keep looking for quieter places and let’s keep having more such discussions in 2016.
Here are the book recommendations from the meetup-
Rathi’s Recommendations
- The Book of Tea by Okakura Kakuzo
- Zen, Taoism and secular aspects of tea. This book is not for everyone but, you may fall in love with tea after reading it. The Japanese author teaches us simplicity through tea.
- The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert
- Fiction from Elizabeth Gilbert. Love, adventure and discovery.
- Clarity in Time: A Philosophical and Psychological Journey by Margaret Hepworth
- The meaning of life. Yes, it is one of those books which go deeper.
- Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert
- This book helps with your creativity. You don’t wanna miss that.
- Brida by Paulo Coelho
- The journey of a teenager for finding something much more than just true love.
- The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion
- The story of a life in good times and bad.
Devyani’s Recommendations
- Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari
- A wide ranging book for anthropology lovers.
- The Spy Princess by Shrabani Basu
- A thrilling biography from the times of World War II
- Marriage and Morals by Bertrand Russel
- Why are guilt and pleasure so closely joined? Find out in this classic.
- Mother Pious Lady by Santosh Desai
- A book that shows mirror to the Indian middle class. No, I take that back. This book is a house of mirrors. Fun fun fun!
Akash’s Recommendations
- The Unbearable Likeness of Being by Milan Kundera
- Love, philosophy and more.
- Em and the Big Hoom by Jerry Pinto
- A book of dark humour.
- Slowness by MIlan Kundera
- Reading it is like profound meditation.
- Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy by John Carre
- A thriller for smart people.
- A Childhood in Malabar by Kamla Das
- Explore the intricacies of caste and class.
- City of Djinns by William Dalrymple
- Come, fall in love with Delhi.
Vishnu’s Reommendations
- The Life of Galileo
- Well, it is about the life of Galileo. Bravery and loss.
- Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
- Dystopia, science fiction. Who hasn’t read it or heard about it?
- Watchmen (Graphic Novel) by Alan Moore
- Fall of grace of a group of superheroes.
- Old Man and The Sea by Ernest Hemingway
- A cuban fisherman and a marlin. Nobel prize for literature.
Ritesh’s Recommendations
- My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk
- Mystery, love, Islam, sex, power. Novel prize for literature.
- The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar WIlde
- Warning- Reading this can make you smarter with words!
- The Book of the Fallen (Malazan) by Steven Erikson
- Fantasy, a whole new world!
- The Discworld Series by Terry Pratchett
- Science fiction, funny. Read it if you love puns and parodies.
Abhyudaya’s Recommendations
- Then We Came to the End- Joshua Ferris
- Office humour, intelligent and sensitive.
- The Inheritance of Loss- Kiran Desai
- A tragic tale told with panache.
- Landline- Rainbow Rowell
- A bittersweet tale of romance. Magical phone.
- The Importance of Being Earnest- Oscar Wilde
- A funny tale of identity confusion.
- लाल टीन की छत- निर्मल वर्मा
- एक सुंदर अभिव्यक्ति मनोभावों की, बचपन की, मासूमियत की और संताप की.
In the end, I would like to copy and paste the email by Rohini who couldn’t attend but sent us her list-
Hi Abhyudaya:
I will not be able to come to the meet up today. I am in Chennai for the winter semester break.
Here is, however, the list of books I read this year:
Corvus- Esther Woolfson
Bitter Lemons by Laurence Durrell
The Amazing Mrs. Pollifax- Dorothy Gilman- really speaking it was a re-read since I had read this book long time back.
Coolie Women- Gauitra Bahadur
As I walked out one Midsummer Morning- Laurie Lee- I have talked about it in my blog
A moment of war- Laurie Lee- I have blogged about this one too.
Death comes to Pemberely- PD James- Again blogged.
An unsuitable job for a woman- PD James- Blogged.
Raga and Josh- Sheila Dhar- Blogged.
Reconceiving the gene- Seymour Benzer adventures in Phage genetics- Frederic Lawerence Holmes
Will join for the next meetup.
regards
rohini
rohini
From the Kitchen.
Beautiful flow
Weekly Prompt- Gonzo Journalism- Annie Anna
MIRAGE OF LOVE
Finally , the day had come when I was going to pour out my feeling of love to him. If not verbally, at least in writing. That day, I had decided to go against the ruthlessly caring words of a friend of mine, who said,” a girl loses her respect if she proposes first.”
For me, it was the gift presented to me by the God, otherwise LOVE can’t ensue in 5 months. Perhaps we were destined to meet, perhaps to fall in love and perhaps to spend life together. Or perhaps, it was my illusion that he too had the same space in his heart for me as I had for him. He started with his coaching for preparing for the civil services in the same institute where I had been before. For four years, I had been making futile endeavor to qualify the exam for Indian royal services, Indian Civil Services. At the end, I was defeated in the battle. The way to my exit coincided with his entry into this merciless war.
He entered into my life when I was trying to bury the woes and sorrows of my destined ruins. Remnants of courage, remnants of hope, remnants of happiness, all I had. His soothing words, his child-like innocence, his patient ears which were always ready to listen, his tender voice did penetrate deep into my cardiac muscle in no time. This was undoubtedly LOVE, which I had felt and I was sure he too felt the same. What made me to assume this? May be, because of emanation of deep interest and urge to talk to me, sharing his problems with me, willingness to know more about me.
Despite of my confidence that Love was both sided, I was a bit nervous. The way I had selected to vent out my emotions to him was writing. I added last few lines to express my affectionate fervor in the poem I wrote for him on his birthday . For almost 2 months, I toiled hard to make one of the best gifts to present to him. Something which was going to be memorable one. Finally, I made a card for him with the sketch of his childhood photo on it and a poem written by me to give him ‘encouragement to pursue his goal’. Of course, a few words with my feelings to him.
On the contrary, our meeting did not go as I wanted it to be. My reluctance, reserve, and shyness were at their best.
The Lips,
Mine was shy, don’t know why;
his were pink, we had coffee to drink.
A few words were getting out, had less to say about,
his constant asking for more, And mine with little verbal pour.
The Eyes,
Mine was fixed at him, The light was dim,
his were shifting the views , to bring sugar in coffee to infuse.
His were sparkling and innocent, mine sometimes bent,
Perhaps had some heart-based chant, But visual contacts were scant.
I had expected some answer to the lines that I wrote there. .
Let me give it an affectionate pill,
When it is under emotional ill.
Showering with a flying colored hopeful ray,
whole-heartedly Wishing you ‘a very happy birthday’
praying soberly,, caring motherly
Treating tenderly, loving dearly
His reply was, “ thanks, it is a nice card.”
The second day on phone, “ you should not have done this much of efforts.”
His words inferred it was just the card for him. He couldn’t soak out the words from it.
This created desperation in me but still I couldn’t confess my LOVE to him.
The page of my life which was begun to be painted colorfully and beautifully with the damp brush of his illusionary affection, started to fade with time. And my lips remained sealed at all the subsequent calls as he was going to write his major exams. The major flood in kashmir made me to stop confessing anything him. luckily, his family was safe. After this havoc to his home land, he made decision to go back to Srinagar. As the softness of his words did not fray, I expected proposal from his side for the next one year. I didn’t try to make him undestand my feeling as his family was still recovering from the natural disaster.The circumstances didn’t turn out to be in my favour.I made myriad of efforts to give sootheness of my words to him but in vain. Subsequently, the frequency of calls and its duration began to decline. Finally, i accepted he was not meant to be mine.
PS: I still wonder, whether he had the same emotions for me. May be his high ambition and the tremendous loss,thereafter, inflicted on him by kashmir flood made him to step back. whatever it was, i admit the sincerity of my feelings to him.
Cartoon Caption Writing Prompt
Look at the cartoon below and write captions for it by either-
- Downloading the photo and drawing speech bubbles on the image via MS Paint and then mailing the same to abhyu.bats@gmail.com
- Writing captions in the comments section here.
- Sending the captions via email
All the captions will be shared with the group and the best one will be declared the winner! The winner will be patted on the back very gently and accolades will be showered very generously.
REVIEW- YOU ARE THE BEST WIFE
YOU ARE THE BEST WIFE
At the outset, I wish to caution that its a Tragic Story, so all those who do not appreciate Tragedies, this is not for you.
I definitely do not like to see such movies, nor do I like to read such books, which have tragic endings. But, I really could not resist reading the book to the end as I knew it was a real story. And I must say, it was worth it. I really liked the way a fictitious ending is given in between, and wished that it should have been the real one.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
I believe that one can get to know a lot about the Author from his creation. Since, we know that its the true story of the author himself, I would say that he is a good human being and the best husband to Bhawna, the best wife. His creation, the Book “You are the best wife” is full of emotions. I felt as if I was watching a movie. In the book he has mentioned that Bhawna was the best wife, best daughter, best mausi, best sister and the best daughter in law. I, no doubt agree with the author but to add to that I felt that even the Author Pandeyji as he is fondly called, is the best husband, best son, best brother and may he soon become the best father to a daughter with the soul as special as Bhawna’s.
THE BOOK BLURB:
A normal love story of a boy Ajay meeting a girl Bhawna; Ajay proposes, Bhawna accepts. But the story suddenly takes a different and the most unexpected route. A tumultuous turn where the boy is left shattered, but learns to pick up the broken pieces of his life.
ABOUT THE BOOK:
The book is an emotional journey, and talks about relationships. It is set in the Allahabad City and clearly brings to the fore the way the boy and girl cannot walk together on the streets, and the contrast is highlighted too when the story shifts to Pune. The story changes its course when Bhawna is infected with Dengue.
This reminds me of a small story on Dengue. http://abheekalp.blogspot.in/2015/11/dengue-season.html. I really could not resist pasting the URL of the same here.
PERSONAL OPINION:
Since this is the first book of the author, literary finesse is something which I was not looking for.
I am also tempted to highlight the fact that although the Author did try to take good care of his wife, but the expertise of the Doctors in the high profile hospitals named by him should definitely come under a scanner. I actually had goose bumps while going through those chapters.
The most important point worth a mention is the fact the way a last chapter has been written from Bhawna’s side. Not to mention that the way Shah Jahan made Mumtaz immortal with the creation of Taj Mahal in her memory, similarly Pandeyji made Bhawna immortal with this book.
ABOUT THE PUBLISHERS:
Sristhi Publishers is doing a good job, the way the book is being promoted. The proceeds from the book are going to a Charitable Trust. Hope they get a good collection.
Weekly Prompt- Dickens- Entry by Annie Anna
NORTH AND SOUTH POLE OF THE MARITAL MAGNET REPELLING EACH OTHER
This is the fourth day that proved to be unlucky for Mr. Daulat Ram. No tender today. The whole day scorching heat sipped away every bit of energy from his body . Besides, when ‘no bread and butter’ made his way towards him, he came back home with sorrow. His mind was overburdened with the thought of taunting and vociferous complaints from his wife, Mrs Santoshi Devi. He has to face this the day when his destiny forgets to shower some mercy on him. Being in informal sector of carpentry job, he has to depend upon the daily stroke of luck for the short tender. His crowded residential colony is located in Chandigarh, 10 km away from the Nek Chand’s rock garden. Standing with other co- labors in a busy market, he everyday plays the gamble for his earnings.
Today with no money in his pocket, he reached his home with desperation .
“You made us live the life of pauper”, she said.
“By the grace of God, at least we are not deprived of food. Learn to be thankful to god for this.”
“ so you think, food is the sole necessity? “
“please, try to make adjustment with what we have. I will gradually take care of other requirements too.”
“Nilima has her shoes torn up. She needs a new one. She has to face embarrassment at school. I have faded colored dresses to wear. For long, I have been waiting for new dresses to be brought. What a hell this life is! ”
“yes papa, I require a new shoes.” His 10-year old daughter interrupted her mother.
“beti, tomorrow I will get your shoes mended by the cobbler and soon, I will arrange the new one for you, darling.” He said with hesitation in his voice.
Their 11-year of marriage has failed to fulfill any marital purpose for both of them. Shantoshi Devi had a long dreams of having a wealthy prince into her life. Her dreams died down when her parents selected Daulat Ram as her suitor, a daily carpentry labor. Her father was a mason. This atrocity of life of deprivation was inherited from her birth. She had a dream of living her life lavishly and expected to get married with a wealthy man. This sole and big desire of hers made its way in oblivion when her father got impressed with the decency of Daulat Ram and ‘no dowry demand’ from him.
Daulat Ram, a honest and content with life. He was satiated with what he had. He expected to began his journey of marriage with affection. But his emotional space in the heart couldn’t get soothing or ointment of pamper from his wife. He didn’t know that he required a lot of money to garment the heart of his wife. For the emotional support from her, the price was to be paid. More the money, more will be her love. This love was not unconditional.
For 11 years, they were living under the same roof with expectations going in opposite directions. Unfortunately, the life of neither of them was satisfying.
The decision of Shantoshi Devi’s father created a blot on her life,the impact of which was shared with Daulat Ram too.
They were like the opposite poles of the magnet but reacting in wrong way, repelling from each other when brought together.
The bitterness atmosphere in the air when they are together has always been dangerously innocuous.
Weekly Prompt- Dickens- Entry by Abhyudaya Shrivastava
Mr. Baatwaani was rather quiet that day. The newspaper had just arrived and it carried the news of a gruesome murder of a landlord by a begrudging tenant.
‘The tenant Charandas, 21 was sick of landlord Dayanand’s antics’, the story in the newspaper read. ‘Repeated taunts about the tenant’s personal life led to the final screw in the coffin.’
‘Shouldn’t it be nail?’ Baatwaani thought to himself.
‘Who edits these stories?’ Baatwaani now spoke out loud to be audible to nobody and everyone.
‘Who in their right mind would drive a screw in a coffin? What, Are you scared that the dead body will escape?’ Baatwaani was now seriously miffed.
His tenant, David, came down the stairs sheepishly. Holding his phone to his ears, he appeared to be whispering tentative sweet nothings for someone. His girlfriend smiled on the other side as he fumbled into blurting out ‘I love you’ for the first time.
‘What an improper phrase to use!!’ Baatwaani suddenly shouted as a startled David stood frozen.
‘Let’s forget the nails versus screws debate for a moment. Who in their right mind would use the coffin phrase to describe the case of a gruesome murder?’ Baatwaani stared blankly at David and continued his rant.
Realizing that this is nothing related to his business, David returned to his call. If only he were paying attention, he wouldn’t have missed the nervous gulp from the other side.
‘Ok, I have to go now! Thank you for everything.’ His would-be ex-girlfriend said.
‘So, she bailed.’ David smiled to himself. He knew it was over so he offered himself to Mr. Baatwaani by initiating small talk the same way a matador invites a bull.
‘Is it again some annoying news in the paper, uncle?’ David said.
‘Yes, an insensitive piece. It infuriates me.’ Baatwaani said with a fixed gaze on David.
‘I will pay the last three months’ rent as soon as I get a job, uncle’ David blurted.
‘Oh, money is no problem, son.’ Baatwaani replied, ‘I am rich enough to support you. When I found out that you were an orphan, I had to give my room to you. World has been unkind enough to you.’
David began, ‘Thank you unc…’
‘Problem is that you’re a Christian!’ Baatwaani interrupted. ‘I am just glad that you’re not amorous and unhinged like other Christians. I really appreciate you bringing no girlfriends over and I hope you never disappoint me.’
David nodded with clenched teeth.
Baatwaani then went on to unlock his phone with a swiping motion. A bunch of porn videos appeared in the phone’s Gallery. He signaled with his eyes for David to leave. David wasted no time in obliging.
As he made his way out of the filthiest residential area in Gwalior- Gowardhan Colony, David thought back on the happier times when he never felt labelled as a Christian or as an orphan. These words were suddenly his identity after his parents passed away in a plane crash. Relatives divided the property among themselves and sent David off to a boarding school. As the fees stopped coming after tenth standard, David had to drop out and was sent to an orphanage. Due to his good schooling thus far, he could complete the rest of his education with the help of NGOs and government aid.
He was laid off after a brief stint as marketing executive in a private firm. Unemployed, David made Gwalior his home and applied in various companies but to no avail thus far.
‘You’re next!’ The receptionist said as David readied his papers.
The interviewers were sympathetic but, someone else had already been given the job. They didn’t tell David that. David read the guilt in their eyes along with the massive sympathy his life story evoked.
After the interview, one of the interviewers even leaned in to give a hug after the handshake and they ended up doing an awkward shoulder bump.
‘You’re handsome’, the receptionist Angie’s eyes twinkled as David arranged his papers in the waiting area. Life had been kind to David in the looks department.
Next thing, they were sipping coffee in a nearby café.
‘So, what do your parents do?’ The question finally raised its head.
There was an awkward pause.
‘Enough about me, tell me three good things about being a receptionist.’ David said with a courageous smile.
‘In my free time, I work with an NGO for orphans.’ Angie’s hand was on David’s fingers. Slowly caressing it.
He felt a label appear on his forehead.
Writer- Abhyudaya Shrivastava
Abhyudaya is the organizer of Talking Books and also an avid reader (duh!) and blogger. He calls himself a cartoonist only based on the fact that once in college, he got thrown out of class for drawing a somewhat accurate caricature of the lecturer. Oh! And he got his cartoons published in Deccan Chronicle! Oh! And he is also a dentist! Oh! And he likes to brag.
Weekly Prompt- Magic Realism- Entry by Vandana Verma
Cats in the cradle, stay there!!
She made a point not to get off the wrong side of the bed. It was a habit now. God ! She had grown up listening to the wrongs and right of things. Every act, everything living or dead had a right side and a wrong side, the former leading to bliss and the other to purgatory maybe.
Twirl around in the middle of the road in broad daylight like a lunatic should a black cat cross your was, kitty is also headed somewhere isn’t she? Poor kitty, did she find her Jerry when I crossed her path, or is it just me who didn’t find the right pair of red shoes, of course it doesn’t have a bearing on me being a size nine.
Place the right foot first, come on now. Which one did I place first when I first started walking? Which one did the errant doctor pull out first from my mother’s womb? Should they not teach that in the medicine, they mess you up these ignorant docs, the knowalls, the losers.
Three is not just a crowd threesome can be ominous for shopping too. Great, loosen the purse strings further, tag along a reluctant shopper to even out the numbers.
The only one she did believe in was a lizard landing on your crowning glory or any part of you really. Yes that would be bad luck for sure, she fiercely believed in this one, she knew she would die of a massive heart attack if that casualty befell her. I promise I can pat or even pet a croc, so it’s not zoophobia.
Plucking flowers in the night is inauspicious but deforestation during the day is the perfect answer to all environmental problems.
A haircut on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays was a complete no no. Thank God at least the barber gets 3 days off in a week.
Peeing on a peepul tree is inauspicious but go ahead pee the whole city green, even the health minister advises it.
No dinner during a lunar eclipse. Really? The sun and moon can’t sync it right and I sacrifice my mortal needs.
She mulled over these as she sipped her morning tea and reasserted in her head that she did get off on the right side of the bed today. She was going to talk to him. She was going to stand her ground and he will have to give her an answer today. It’s marriage or nothing, how long could he avoid this? We were practically married for 3 years now.
It’s a bright sunny day, no gloominess, mom didn’t even call after me today, thumbs up. Caught the metro in time, even got a seat all the way. No black cat in sight for miles around. Reached five minutes ahead of time and stepped inside with the right foot first, mind you. It was like, like just obsessing about these superstitions was making her stay clear of them bad omens.
He was there a couple of minutes later. Looking uncomfortable, she had begun to associate that look with him off late. Sheepish almost, he is dating someone else; the thought had been driving her mad. And wary, wary, why would that be, had he joined the ISI?
He sat down immediately and his pallor worried her more. Was he going to say no? He was looking around warily again trying to tally how many people in the restaurant will bear witness to the scene that was to unfold.
But she is going to be positive. She blinked her eyelids animatedly like a genie with a big impish smile. He smiled that million-dollar smile she had first fallen for. He grabbed her hands, held them fiercely now and said urgently, “They are preparing for the wedding right now.”
Of course the pulse drops, wow, good, even better than I had hoped for. She was making it happen. One could do it… what was that tacky liner, “you want something bad blah blah…the cosmos brings it to you…blah, blah!!”
She wanted it so bad that the words still sounded distant, dream like. She blinked again genie-like, involuntarily now. Was she able to affect it so effortlessly? Why didn’t she try this sooner? She careened it by controlling these external elements, what they called superstitions, it wasn’t that or was it? The string of events, the right side of the bed, the right foot, the black cat or the absence of one, it counts, all that her mother and grandmother said, it wasn’t just blabbering then. No nonsense yapping, their wizened faces zooming before her like a kaleidoscope … yapping and so was he.
“I hadn’t thought it ever possible, I tried so hard, you know I did. Every one of them, in the last three years, I reasoned with every one of them, I begged, pleaded, threatened. I tried it all, for you, for us!! They are my parents, they have pampered me rotten, surrendered to every one of my wishes and desires. I thought they had to come around in the end!
Till mum fell sick. Please understand!! It would kill her now. Please understand!!”
I can’t count the number of times I have sat on this couch looking over the busy street, sipping one latte after another, peddlers, touts, beggars, swindlers, men, women, dogs. Dogs look different, even the whole litter of them. Not crows, they all look the same, raven, ugly, raucous, hoarse in winters, still dark, very dark like the one on her overhang this morning.
- Vandana Verma
The Talking Books Magazine 