Sunday, October 9, 2016

Book Review: 03:02 by Mainak Dhar

Title: 03:02
Author: Mainak Dhar
Publisher: Westland Publishers


Review:

While reading Mainak Dhar’s novel 03:02, I was reminded of the television series, Revolution. The series is set in a post-apocalyptic near-future, in the year 2027. Fifteen years earlier, in the year 2012, a worldwide event known as "The Blackout" caused all electricity on Earth, ranging from computers and electronics to car and jet engines, to be disabled permanently. As a result, trains and cars stopped where they were, ships went dead in the water, and aircraft plummeted from the sky and crashed. In the years after the Blackout, people adapted to this new world without electricity. Because government and public order collapsed, several areas are ruled by militias and their generals. Quite similar is Dhar’s setting. While in Revolution the blackout was a global phenomenon, in 03:02, the locale is restricted to Mumbai. The author does mention that other places have also been impacted, but it is basically India’s economic capital that he chooses to highlight.
What sets Dhar’s novel apart from the series is the cause behind the blackout. 03:02 builds off something that is very topical — the threat of terror. In this novel, terror is not something ordinary Indians watch the news or read about on the internet, but something they must confront firsthand. It talks of an attack wherein a deadly threat sweeps through our homeland, threatening our freedom and way of life. With no army or police to help them, ordinary Indians must band together to face this threat and wage a war for our freedom.
Thus far the story held the promise of a big, bold, and brassy adventure and would have certainly been the best read for me. Unfortunately, the storyline all of a sudden takes a dive. Dhar perhaps becomes so enamoured by his protagonist Aadi that instead of paying attention to the story at large, he becomes busy in sketching a larger-than-life character for the hero. When characters take precedence over the story, it is the reader who suffers eventually. What could have been a brilliantly crafted page turner otherwise stays just an above average reading.
What has not been compromised with is the narrative skill that Dhar is known to hide up his sleeves. As usual, his writing style is a neat package with no nonsense showery. He delivers some consistently terrific action scenes that I’ve come to associate with his storytelling (I read another book by the same author and enjoyed it). The crisp writing makes for a pleasant read.
Whether willingly or unwittingly, almost every story has a message to deliver and that message becomes the central idea that marches the narrative onward and ahead. The spark lies within each of us — this is the driving point of Mainak Dhar’s latest release, 03:02, which happens to be a post-apocalyptic novel.
If you haven’t read the book, go get a copy. Read it if not for anything else but for the novelty (at least in the Indian literary market) of the idea behind the book.

About the Author:


After finishing his schooling at Modern School, Barakhamba Road and his under-graduation at Hindu College, Delhi, Mainak Dhar graduated from the Indian Institute of Management, Ahmedabad. He has spent two decades in the corporate sector starting with Procter & Gamble in India. He spent eighteen years with P&G, fifteen of them outside India across the Asia Pacific region. In 2014, he moved back to India as the CEO of the India operations of a major consumer products multinational. A self-described cubicle dweller by day and writer by night, Mainak is also the author of over a dozen books, some of which have been bestsellers in India and abroad. These books have been translated into Turkish, Vietnamese, Japanese, French, German and Portuguese. He lives in Mumbai with his wife, Puja and their son, Aaditya. When not at work or with his family, he can usually be found working on or thinking about his next book.

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* I received a review copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
** Picture courtesy: Amazon.in 




Saturday, October 8, 2016

Book Review: The Four Patriots by Sumit Agarwal

Title: The Four Patriots
Author: Sumit Agarwal
Publisher: Rupa Publications


Review:

Sumit Agarwal’s ‘The Four Patriot’ starts with a vision of India in the year 2023. A new era has dawned and the old, crumbling country has finally emerged as Naya Bharat with vast changes. But there are forces who want to chain her down, who wish to see the country groveling in the dust again. Amidst this backdrop, the story propels and we are siphoned off to the past, to the year 2006, from where the journey initiated.
The book is divided into two sections. While the first section tells the story of the four protagonists who are the four pillars of Naya Bharat and of their tribulations, the second section is all about the transformation of our beloved country. Rising above and beyond the catchphrase — “is desh ka kuch nahin ho sakta” — which seems to be the latest trend among the youth, the protagonists — Varun, Salman, Raghav and Aditya — embark on their journey to revolutionize the nation, seeking purpose and adventure.
Sumit’s use of multiple perspectives adds movement and richness to the novel but sometimes the device muddles the narrative. The book has pleasant propulsion as the thriller-esque plot churns along.
Loaded with action and driven by men of admirable qualities, this adventure is a great escape from reality. I’d recommend it to all those looking for a tightly knit neat package. 

About the Author:

Sumit Agarwal, MD, MLA Group of Industies, Kanpur is the founder of an NGO Prerna. He also founded Kasauti, a consortium of NGOs to aid clean and answerable politics. Apart from the fact that his first book “The Four Patriots” is being published by one of the leading publishing houses in the country, the story has already been adopted for a movie by a leading production house.
Sumit is also a music composer, lyricist, singer and writer. Two of his songs have been aired on MTV Indies this year. His music videos can be viewed on his Youtube Channel, Sumit Agarwal, or on his website www.sumitagarwal.net. An adept multi-tasker, he is a speaker on topics related to nation building, work life balance and multi-tasking.

Contact:

Praise for the book:

1. Really amazing treatment of a subject which is our country’s need of the moment. Thrilling to the core, a must read. —Abhijeet Bhattacharya (Renowned Singer)
 2. It is heartening to know about “The Four Patriots” which inspires the youth and I’m confident that you will continue with this. —Akhilesh Yadav (Hon’ble CM Uttar Pradesh)
3. If you want India to become “Sone ki chiriya” again, then you must read this book and participate in the development of the country. —Om Puri (Veteran Film Actor)
4. Superb…bringing out realities of our times. I am sure this will be a hit for youth to guide them for a bright future in a brighter India. —C.M. Bhandari (Former Indian Ambassador to Cambodia, UAE, Poland & Lithuania. Yoga Author & Yog Guru)
5. A must read for people who love their country. —Bharat Kapoor (Film Actor)
6. It’s an amazing book, providing lots of insight into the prevailing condition in our country. It’s very spontaneous; it also shows that if you seek despair, you get despair but if you seek hope. There is definitely one. —Rakesh Bedi (Renowned TV Actor, Shrimaan Shrimati / Yeh Jo Hai Zindagi)
7. The country whose fate has not changed despite the J.P. and Anna Andolans. An eye opener, an inspiring and sumptuous read. All the best with lots of wishes. —Avtar Gill (Veteran TV Actor)

8. “The novel leaves the reader with a heightened sense of patriotism. It is an enthralling read.” —Saba Mahmood Bashir, (Author of I Swallowed the Moon: The Poetry of Gulzar)

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* I received a review copy from the author in exchange for an honest review.


Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Book Review: AB de Villiers - The Autobiography

Title: AB de Villiers - The Autobiography
Author: AB de Villiers
Publisher: Pan Macmillan India



Review:


He is South Africa’s Test and ODI captain who initially played for Delhi Daredevils in the Indian Premier League (IPL) and now turns out for Royal Challengers Bangalore (RCB). He’s been termed the “finest batsman of his generation” by Indian cricket captain Virat Kohli. His name is chanted wherever he plays irrespective of the team he turns up for. He is none other than AB de Villiers, one of the star performers in the cricket world. He made his test debut for South Africa at the age of twenty and was selected for every single test his nation played over the subsequent eleven years. He is renowned as a ferocious T20 and ODI player.
In AB: The Autobiography, Villiers recounts his life since boyhood till now. He delves into the dreams that he saw during that time and how some, if not all, of those dreams came to bear fruit. His is a candid tone as he sets upon the task of reliving his life thus far.
The story starts with what may be considered de Villiers' finest moment as a cricketer, when he broke the record for the fastest hundred in an ODI, against West Indies in January 2015 at the Wanderers. What the audience didn’t know and what he himself confesses in the book is that he was so nervous before the match that he had wished for somebody else to go in his place. When his request was refused, he stumbled down the stairs and made a fool of himself in front of his friends who didn’t give up on the opportunity and had a hearty laugh at his expense. He gained confidence only when he was out in the field, facing the bowler. The rest is history and known to every cricket buff.
What is evident from this fine autobiography is that AB has stayed at the very top for such a long time because he takes nothing for granted. He is hard working and concentrates on his job, all the while being a genuinely modest human being. He lives by a code of honour. He has worked on being disciplined, organized, and professional both on and off the field.
Villiers appreciates how lucky he is to be earning a living by playing cricket for his country. His dedication and determination was the reason how he played a major role in South Africa winning in England and Australia for the first time since readmission, in their unbeaten run on the road that started in 2006 and only ended in 2015, and in their rise to being the No. 1 cricket team.
But the book is not just about the matches he played. It sums up his thoughts on several matters related to the sport itself. He talks of his fear and his expectations. He is quick to lavish praise on his team mates and always full of praise for his opponents. He is realistic though often defensive about certain things. Most importantly, there aren’t any controversial issues that he discusses in his book. His is an uplifting story and deserves to be read over and again.  
All in all, the book is a must read for all ABD fans. This autobiography is surprisingly refreshing and utterly absorbing.

About the Author

The statistics tell barely half the story but, so far, AB de Villiers has scored over 14,000 runs in 98 tests for South Africa, more than 8,000 runs in 190 one-day internationals and more than 40,000 runs in his professional career. He is mainly distinguished by the style in which he bats and his humble, determined captaincy of the South African national team in one-day international cricket.

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* I received a review copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
** Picture courtesy: Amazon.in 

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Flash Fiction: My life, your life, our lives


My life, your life, our lives


It’s like I’m her dirty little secret, and I don’t like it one bit. Is she ashamed of me? Am I not worth her? These and questions similar to these kept chasing in my head like a game of hide and go seek. I felt weary and stretched to my limit. I have tried to be patient with her. Initially, it was her broken marriage. I kept supporting her morally as she waded through the thorny bushes of a legal battle. It had been nasty. There was no alimony. Not that she had hoped for or wanted even. She was an independent woman, financially sound and physically fit. All that she wanted was a supportive partner. I had been her anchor then. It gave me pleasure to be the rock on which she wanted to build her shaken self confidence.
That had been some two years ago. In the meantime much has happened but I still remain a figure in the periphery of her life. I don’t blame her. I try to put myself in her shoes. I know it must be difficult for her. I’ve seen her shed tears over me when she thought I was sleeping. She wants to be with me as much as I do. But… and that’s a big but. Some days I’m okay with it. I look forward to the few stolen hours that we can afford for each other behind the closed doors of my studio apartment. It’s not much and definitely not a permanent solution. She says for now it has to be enough. How long is that ‘now?’ I question her.
The fire in her sad eyes burn out every time I pose these unanswerable questions. Those days usually end with me sleeping on the couch. Not because she wants me to but because I don’t wish to be in the same bed with her. I hate picking up fights with her. So, the couch becomes my self-imposed punishment. She knows it too. In the early days of our courtship, she let me be. But not anymore. Now she squeezes herself beside me on the tiny couch and we end up making love. She doesn’t want us to lose any of the allotted time that we have set aside for ourselves.
What she fails to realize is that it leaves me hungry for more. Those days all I can think of is about the softness of her body over mines. Her curves, angles, and squiggles — all of her. It drives me mad. I keep floundering in my work. And I’m so desperate for her that I just close shop and count the minutes to her arrival. Those fiery hours keep me wandering on the street across her office. I don’t dare enter the building, for ours is a secret too big to be handed out to people carelessly.

For now, this has to be enough. For now, two girls planning a wedding is a remote possibility. And for now, all we want is for us to be together. Legitimacy or illegitimacy are issues for the society to ponder. These are not our burden to bear. All we know is love.    

© Jonali Karmakar

Monday, October 3, 2016

Flash Fiction: Shrine


Shrine


I looked at the newest addition to my shrine. A fragment from a broken china cup. I should have thrown it away the moment I had found it in an obscure corner of the cupboard. I wouldn’t have remembered it had I not put it inside a clear plastic. Such a tiny piece! I don’t remember when I had stored it for posterity. But I had. That in itself goes not to show the hold someone’s absence has on you!
Every tiny thing is a chapter to be recalled or an episode to relive. Your relationship may have died years ago but its ghost lives on. It lingers and haunts. Especially if you have rebuilt your heart in the likeness of an altar for that lost love. Though the two of you were never meant to have a future together, the ghosts of those memories reproduced and spawned babies for you to nurture. Now every time you come across something, those babies gnaw at your soul leaving tiny claw-marks that bleed and drive you to the precipice of depression. There’s no moving on. Just tagging along.
You’re tempted to throw every thread, every scrap of paper you’ve collected over the years that had somehow been a part of those glory days. You don’t. You can’t. You have to live with these memories that have only multiplied with time. You eat, you sleep, you drink — in short, be normal on the outside. It’s only when you’re alone that your eyes rove over the altar with a vacant expression. You can’t just dispossess yourself of all that makes you, you. You want to scream and let go. It isn’t easy. It never is. You know it only too well. Those you say otherwise, know it too, but do not want to acknowledge the truth. For truths are cruel. Lies can be handled. Those can be manufactured at will and produced for dramatic results.

Everybody uses these lies to get over things and live. You do too. But the biggest of all the lies that you’ve been telling yourself is that you want to get rid of the shrine. That you no longer need the weight of the holy altar upon yourself. Because when you dispose yourself off these fragments, you’ll no longer be you. You’ll be lost and adrift. These are your anchor. These hold you to the monotony that people call life. So you bear your cross with a martyr’s outlook. Only you know the truth that this your holy grail — these half forgotten but part salvaged memories.   


© Jonali Karmakar    

Book Review: How To Steal A Ghost @ Manipal by Shweta Taneja

Title: How To Steal A Ghost @ Manipal
Author: Shweta Taneja
Publisher: Juggernaut


Review:

Sparsely written but thorough, Shweta Taneja’s ‘How to Steal a Ghost @ Manipal’ is one teenager’s experiences spirit-hunting across contemporary Manipal. At the same time it is a love triangle that propels most of the story.
Twinkle Kashyap has joined Manipal University to be with her childhood love, Rohit Dandi, who wants nothing more than to be a famous paranormal investigator and save everyone from the tantrums of the dead. One thing leads to another and Twinkle a.k.a Tinker enters into an unbidden internship with a famous parapsychologist Professor Das and gets involved in a world of paranormal activity. Between studying, ghost-busting and day dreaming, she has to brave the Wiccan witch Lydia who seems to all cozy up with her one true love. To her horror, Rohit reciprocates to Lydia’s advances in kind and soon they are a couple much to Twinkle’s dismay. To keep her sanity intact, Twinkle creates a distance between her friends and herself and immerses her sorrow in the professor’s lab. The real story starts then.

The story is intriguing but the somewhat uneven exploration of things leave things hanging. Shweta’s prose is descriptive but never flowery, and she rarely wastes words. On one level the book is well-done, with plenty of vivid details and individual scenes showing the conflict. But the passion is missing. I also came across some typos, but nothing that couldn’t be overlooked. Overall not a bad read. And as usual, I look forward to reading her next release. This one is an author to look out for.

About the Author:


Shweta Taneja is a fantasy author based in Bangalore. She's written seven books and two hundred articles in a career spanning fourteen years. She's a Charles Wallace India Writing Fellow (UK, 2016) and was shortlisted for Best Writer Award in ComicCon India. Her latest book How to Steal a Ghost @ Manipal is out with Juggernaut Books and climbing the bestselling charts. 

Contact the Author:


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* I received a review copy from the author in exchange for an honest and unpaid review.



Saturday, October 1, 2016

Flash Fiction: If Then Else


If Then Else


I woke up with a start just when I had started to fall asleep. Those innocent eyes kept haunting me. I knew the truth behind those accusing eyes but could not do anything to save the man. He stood there in my presence screaming silently for help. What he didn’t know was that right then I was more helpless than he could ever imagine. Even when I wanted to set him free, I was duty-bound to not let him escape.
The case had been one of the several that my predecessor had kept stalling. The accused had already been in prison for over sixteen years — more than his actual crime called for. When finally I took over as the high court judge, I was so overwhelmed at the number of pending cases that I decided upon a fast track dispensation of justice. Easier said than done. Unfortunately, I found this out only after I had set the course and there was no backing out. For weeks the lawyers gave me hard stare. They couldn’t complain in open though I understood too well their unhappiness at being ordered around on a short lease. I let their stare glide over my back for the greater good.
Then this man’s case came to me. I heard the arguments of both the sides. All the evidence, though circumstantial, was pointing him out as guilty. But I couldn’t accept it. This man who stood before me couldn’t have committed the crime he had been framed for. He was not the type of man who could hurt another soul. I could vouch for him. But that wouldn’t do now, would it? The law only understands evidence. Not belief and certainly not love.
I have known this man for as long as I can remember. He was there when I spoke my first words. He was there when I took my first step. He was there whenever I needed him. But more importantly, he was there when I…. That my irresponsibility could cost another so dearly wasn’t something I had foreseen. How could I have let him take the fall for me and escaped never to come back? When had I become so callous and self-centered that my reputation and self-preservation had started clouding my judgment? And irony of all ironies, I was the judge for something that I should have been prosecuted!
I couldn’t wait for the morning. I needed to see him. I needed to absolve him and surrender. That was what was right. Then why was I hesitating? He had already suffered for my wrong doings. Surely I was capable of redemption. Or had I throttled my conscience the day I had…..
I didn’t want to think of what I had become. I was successful. Respected and feared. Loved even. I couldn’t just let everything slide because of my guilt. It was true that I was the criminal but it was equally true that he was the cause of behind why I had to commit the crime. He was guilty in equal measure. Was that why he had let himself get caught in the first place? Was it his repentance? Once upon a time we had been friends. But he had taken undue advantage of my friendship. That was what had started this chain reaction. He deserved to rot and he deserved to be punished by me.
No, I am not to be absolved completely of what had transpired so many years ago. I have had to bear my own cross. For months I had battled severe depression until finally I had come clean. It had broken me completely. Threatened my sanity. That had been my punishment. Worse than any prison made of brick and mortar. This time I’d fight for myself. This time I’ll not be a mere spectator.
By the next hearing I had of course changed my mind. He had suffered and didn’t need to anymore. I would be lenient and let him free. My privilege accorded me that right. Nobody would challenge me. There was no reason.

Only, I was too late. The man had hanged himself in his cell and left behind a suicide note. He had conceded to the charges that had been against him. He had absolved me of any wrong doing. But in fact he had only set himself free and made me a prisoner of my guilt.

© Jonali Karmakar