A poem I liked

Conversations
by
Keyur R. Patel

When we meet again,
You shall as always
Say
How life weaves a
Net of grief
And traps us in.

You hardly talk more
Than that and almost
Always add –
“This journey of becoming
Adults and unbecoming of humans.”

Perhaps you’re shy
And words born
Deep in your mind
Perch on your lips
With great diffidence
Gazing intently
At the vagaries of life,
Yet holding back
Their deep wisdom

Ah! Remember
How you once jokingly said
In the tone of a sage –
“Let these winds of
Wisdom caress you into
Enlightenment…”

And how I reacted
In awe and wonder
At this depth of reflection –
Like dust caught in
Swirling winds on forlorn
Streets of empty towns,
You capture moments of
Ideas and thoughts with
Tenderness of words

You know that you
Want to love me to
The fullest of depths
And yet,
You cunningly deny
With an abstract
Expression on your face

I know how stubborn affection can be
To show its intent openly,
To show its concerns.

I can wait forever –
Forever is a small inconvenience
To love and listen to you.

Tender Hooks - Book Review

I recently read an interview with Pakistani author Moni Mohsin regarding the launch of her new book "Tender Hooks" and was intrigued enough to pick it up at Evening Hour. This is her second book after the huge success of "The diary of a social butterfly", based on her popular column in the newspaper.

The premise is simple. The protagonist, assumed to be "Mrs. Butterfly" is from an elite, well-do-to Pakistani family with an enchanted life - a large house, many servants, an adorable son and an Oxford educated (referred to fondly as Oxen) husband who lets her be herself. Butterfly observes the world through her rose-tinted glasses and her nose in the air, considering her place in society. Through her liberal use of grammatical errors (Thanks God), homophones (waste deep in snow), spelling goof-ups (good baggrounds), good old funny takes on known institutions (works in a bank Golden Sacks), slightly off the wall phrases (good radiance) and the like, Butterfly maintains a running comic monologue. I burst out laughing at least once in each chapter.

The chapters are short and begin with a date and what is presumably a newspaper headline. The book is not just about an airhead's view of Pakistani high society but a tongue-in-cheek critique of life in Pakistan today. Butterfly's breezy views on the army versus taliban, honest citizens versus the smugglers are put forth in an understated manner without ruffling any feathers.

In this book, Butterfly has the task of finding a bride for Jonkers, her cousin, by his overbearing mother, Aunt Pussy. Finding the right girl from the appropriate background is not as easy at is seems to be and we meet an endearing cast of characters in hilarious situations as we hurtle towards an unexpected ending. Butterfly operates from her superficial principles in most situations but is actually a feisty and sensible woman when push comes to shove.

I think Moni Mohsin has brought the right balance of humor to a lovable protagonist to highlight current issues in Pakistan with her breezy narration and wonderful wit. Definitely a must-read.

First Proof Volume 6 - Book Review

The Penguin Book of New Writing Volume 6 contains a selection of non-fiction, fiction and a couple of poems. Reading an anthology reminds me of the famous words uttered by Tom Hanks as Forrest Gump in the eponymous movie "...like a box of chocolates. You never know what you are going to get." The collection is a little erratic, with some excellent writing, some fantastic translation from regional languages and some run of the mill stuff.

The first non-fiction piece is a beautiful but heart-wrenching tale, "A Young Man", by Sunanda Sikdar, who has excerpted and translated from the original Bangla "Dayamoyeer Katha" by Anchita Ghatak. It deals with the barbaric practice of making young widows shave their heads and lead an austere life upon the death of their husbands, whether or not the marriage was consummated. The generosity of these women who were doomed by the prevalent customs with no way out is sure to bring tears to the most cynical among readers. Chatura Rao's three vignettes titled "By the Ganga one winter" has a memorable piece on the momentary fame experienced by an ordinary person and how one can live on a long-forgotten memory that lights up the monotonous present, if only fleetingly. In "Cabbie", Anindita Ghose poignantly captures the nuances of an unlikely friendship between a graduate student in New York and a Pakistani cabbie, how class differences may blur in a strange environment but only momentarily.

In the fiction section, Triptych by Ranjan Nautiyal describes the advent of rain and its effect of three young children with a loving touch in "Forgotten friend". "Soul Mates" by Kanchana Ugbabe is an extremely believable tale of a freeloader whose unwelcome stay creates problems in the household. Through "Aaba and other mysteries" Deven Sansare relates the effect of the prolonged mill workers strike that ended the industry in Mumbai and changed forever the lives of the workers and their families through the eyes of a young boy who comes of age in this period. Two wonderful stories of families with children abroad and the effect on the family members left behind are worth reading as they express the same sentiment through different protagonists - "Mrs.Dhillon" by Purnima Rao and "A 33-1/3 LP" by Somnath Mukherji. "Stink" by D. Rege is a hard-hitting tale of hijras and how their life does not become any easier even if the government passes article 337 in their favor. Of the two poems at the end of the book, I loved Keyur Patel's Conversations.

I am not sure what criteria was used by the publishing house to pick these stories amongst the myriad others that are available. A brief introduction to the authors is provided at the end of the book. It is clear that many of the authors are established in the writing profession, either as reporters, translators, screen writers, ad writers and such. Perhaps it is their level of proficiency that impacts the quality and feel of their words. What would be a worthwhile effort for Penguin is to bring out genuinely "first" writing by budding authors.

The Vague Woman's Handbook - Book Review

Lately I have been having difficulty in figuring out the relationship between the title of a book and its contents. This debut novel by Devapriya Roy falls into that category. The brief description at the back sounded interesting, about an unlikely friendship between a newly-married young woman and another one, almost three decades her senior.

We are introduced to a hare-brained Sharmila Chatterjee, twenty-two years old, helplessly late for a job interview, having taken a break from her studies to financially help the dire home situation. Her husband, the idealistic Abhimanyu Mishra is pursuing his Ph.D. in an obscure subject, having given up the prospect of a Ph.D. in the USA. Consequently the two have eloped and married in Delhi, much against the wishes of the parents living in Calcutta. When Mil (Sharmila)is hired at the Indian Academy for Literatures, she meets Indira Sen, a senior government officer with whom she hits it off and thereby is supposed to begin a tale.

There are some vivid descriptions of New Delhi as the seasons change and some introduction to the mysterious working of the Indian governmental bureaucracy. However, there isn't much of a story to tell in the 300-odd pages of the novel. Indira's life seems to be one where an interesting plot could have evolved, given her strange home situation with a domineering mother, an obsessive-compulsive mother-in-law and a quirky Uncle along with a headstrong teenage daughter. But they seem to carry on with their weirdness, contributing nothing to Indira's life or to the novel. Mil helps Indira with her mounting, incomprehensible credit card debt while Indira seems to do nothing more than share junk food with the younger woman.

The characters seem two-dimensional with no significant inner angst other than the obvious daily difficulties of urban life; money problems, maid issues, interfering landlords and in-laws. As I mentioned earlier, the title and the story did not match but I can attest that the author seems as vague about what she wanted to convey through her characters and it is perhaps Devapriya Roy's handbook as a vague woman herself.

Kodai Day 3 - Off the beaten path

Have you eaten yellow raspberries? I did not even know such fruit existed until this morning. We set off on a nature hike with our guide Mr.Vijay around 9.30 a.m. We chose a relatively easier trail that even the six-year old in our midst could attempt and walked through the western ghats. The terrain was uneven as we walked around a wattle forest at about 2000 meters above sea level. The silence enabled us to hear the laughing thrush, the bush chats and mynas. We saw medicinal plants like the foxglove growing wild, along with eucalyptus and brahmi. In untidy thorny shrubs we saw yellow raspberries growing in bunches. We tried some and they were delicious.

At a little stream, we saw crabs and frogs and lots of tadpoles, on their way to becoming frogs. At a clearing in the forest we saw, the bones of a bison, eaten through by the jungle ecosystem, probably killed by a pack of wild dogs. The kids thought this was totally cool. We took deep breaths of the clean forest air as we traversed terrain with amazing biodiversity. We did not come across any wildlife or to many humans either. We had a lovely time hiking through the silent green slopes, a path we might have missed if we had not met Mr. Vijay. He provides these guided tours for those inclined towards nature and a wish to meander off the beaten paths that are crowded with loud and uncaring tourists. More information can be found at http://www.nature-trails.net/contact.html

We were leaving the next day so we decided to have another bike ride by the lake. But before that we shared a cup of coffee with Vijay at a quaint restaurant called Cloud Street. We had delicious lemon cake and brownies which the kids slurped down with glasses of lime juice. As we walked towards the lake, we came across Pottery Shed, selling locally-made pottery, a rare find in streets which have stores that you have seen in a thousand places before, stocked with machine-made junk that has flooded markets all over India.

Day 2 - Kodaikanal

Today we rented a car that took us to Berijam Lake, about 30 km outside of Kodai. This natural lake is a protected area where only a limited number of small vehicles (such as cars, vans and even mini-buses) are allowed each day, after applying for a permit. There are no shops or eating places and people taking food and beverages are supposed bring back their trash with them. The lake was pristine and quiet even as loud tourists jumped off buses and headed to the water, scaring away groups of monkeys diving off a low tree branch into the cool water. Small fish nibbled at our feet as we stood in refreshingly cold ankle-deep water. A few heron perched on the opposite bank while a couple of baby mallards swam around aimlessly with their spiky hair.

While the scenery was picturesque, equally riveting was the sight of orange and blue Lays chips packets, abandoned by tourists at the water’s edge. Plastic water bottles bobbed in the water, remnants of thirsty tourists uncaring of their contributions to the lakeside. Pepsicos contribution to the Indian environment can be found in any remote town and village. Even responsible hill-stations like Kodai and Munnar which have sensibly banned plastic, are not able to get rid of the scrounge of plastic wrappers that Pepsico’s marketing might has ensured touching lives in the most remote places within India. If an influential international giant like Pepsico would take even one small step to investigate biodegradable alternatives to food packaging, it would make the world a better place for everyone. Corporate social responsibility does not lie in setting aside sums of money for charity, it begins with looking within to see how you can incorporate sustainable business practices that are gentle on the world that you live in and make it part of your vision. Are you listening Indra Nooyi?

A well-deserved break - Kodaikanal

Day 1

Beautiful Kodaikanal, the bracing air at this altitude, is finally erasing the scorched scars of Hyderabad summer from our bodies as we open the windows to natural air-conditioning. Aparna and I are here with our good friends from Hyderbad, Radha and family, to spend 4 days of the summer break from our taxing work schedules. Radha and her husband are entrepreneurs too, with punishing work pressures while balancing demands of families. Here we decide to make vague plans just a day ahead and keep our plans flexible, our main goal is to just relax.

We went to Kodai lake, rented bicycles and rode around the periphery, stopping to admire the view, or enjoy freshly picked tender carrots or melt in the mouth cotton candy. Our lunch was corn on the cob followed by orange bars and chocobars from the local Arun icecream cart. We took a leisurely boat ride with brief commentary by the friendly boatman who made it clear that the tourist trade was not as brisk and therefore expected a generous tip for his services. These included pointing out some huge lakeside properties belonging to business families, stopping the boat to let us pick purple waterlilies and making one quick garland with the long tubular stem for the youngest one in our group. We took turns wearing this organic “garland of honor” through the day while carrying the bunch of water lilies like tourists as we walked through the lanes. Bryant Park located adjacent to the lake was a little bit of a disappointment with its ill-maintained lawns and uninspiring landscaping. A profusion of flowers including delphiniums, hydrangeas, zinnias and marigolds graced a couple of flower beds. The highlight of the day was the tea at the Carlton, which maintains its title as the top-ranking hotel at Kodai even after 20 years.

Almost Single - Book Review

One more in the ever-growing genre of Indian chick-lit, this book has one strength. Humour! The novel breezily captures the life of the protagonist, Aisha Bhatia, almost thirty, very single and surrounded by friends who are in a similar situation.

Most of the book is devoted to the single-minded pursuit (or discussion) of booze, cigarettes, available men, not necessarily in that order. Aisha's best friends,a very available and always on the look out, Misha and Anushka, undergoing the throes of divorce, provide able support to her angst as she works in a fancy hotel with its dark underpinnings reserved for the rich and the minions who serve them. It is not clear what the other two girls do for a living as they brunch at five-start hotels, discuss expensive shiatsu massages and consume copious amounts of branded liquor. Comic relief is also provided by a pair of gay characters who appear to be in a monogamous and committed relationship while the straight women ogle every specimen of the male species.

Of course, there is Aisha's consistent love interest, the hunky NRI Karan who has all the required attributes of a eligible bachelor and the multiple unfortunate liaisons of the intrepid Misha to spice up the narrative. The women seem be connoisseurs of wine but can't tell daals apart. Their redeeming feature is their closeness and camaraderie.

The novel is light-hearted and fun, with the devil-may-care attitude of the urban youth that laughs at tradition but is not averse to clinging to weird gurus and rituals when the situation demands. It is well-written but by no means a literary marvel. What saves the book from being mediocre is the irreverent humour that makes light of every dark situation, including the majestic institution of marriage.

Aparna's blog - A true dog lover

It was Avani’s party the next day and I was finishing up school work before I went to bed. It was then that the phone call came. 9.30 PM, January 16th.

11th September 2005. I was eight years old. Dogs fascinated me. We had bought a large yellow poster of dogs and their breeds; my dad and I. That day, we drove down the dusty road that led to Kalpana Kennels and drove out with a dog in hand. His fur was soft, his ears small, his eyes bright. His sister and brother were adorable. But we had our hearts set on him. I still remember the car ride back home. He was skittering all over my lap in the backseat, his nails digging into the cotton of my skirt. He was so small, so fragile, so beautiful.

Sharky was baby Pinocchio. His nose grew and grew to such an extent that he couldn’t even reach his tongue to his own nose. He had difficulty eating and would be extremely protective of his food. He would have sudden mood swings and bite randomly. But we still loved him. We had brought him home to keep. We could not give him away.

Sharky. The name still tingles in my head. It brings back bitter-sweet memories. Me and him; running around the house, him falling into the pool and showing off his swimming abilities, his on-and-off girlfriend-the next door neighbor Blackie. The last time I saw him-several hours after he had died-lying on his bed, stiff and hard. Traces of blood in his mouth, his ears firm against his head, his tail rigid. His black body that was usually so soft and welcoming now seemed dark and ugly. They dug a 1ft. deep pit in the backyard at the foot of the mango tree, where all the cats he used to chase could see him.

He had choked on his food that night, Sharky. He suffered on his own though, not letting anyone help.

I cried like I never had before. After I had cried my eyes out, I didn’t know how to feel. Was I supposed to be sad all the time or was I supposed to just be happy and pretend like nothing was wrong? Would people mistake that happiness for ignorance; indifference?

But maybe the purpose of Sharky’s existence in my life was to teach me how to love. And once he had accomplished his mission, he had left. Right now he is probably teaching some other little girl, in some corner of the world, how to love.

Oreo came exactly a month later. He was different. I found myself comparing everything he did to Sharky. It will never be the same; Oreo will never replace Sharky, but he deserves my love just the same. The loss of a first pet is never easy, but there are harder things in life and I know it is these experiences that will help me get through them.