Aniruddh Hirani, a rich, madly-in-love-with-his-Ducati  Stephenian with an IQ of 153 (Einstein’s was 160, or so says Ani) finds himself  at the feet – and quite literally so -of a witty albeit poor IITian from Goa, Aparajita Pinto. Thus begins a love story that most youngsters of today would be able to identify with. Dates at Dilli Haat and House of Ming, super (pardon the gaffe, I meant uber) cool bikes, holiday in Goa, loving albeit conservative parents who can’t imagine their Hindu son marrying a Catholic girl and 26/11. Yes, debut author Abhimanyu Jha picks up everyday characters and tells us their story, a story situated in a world where bullets and bombs are no longer confined to traditional battlegrounds. You, me or the person next door- anybody can be a victim. But what happens when you discover that the person you left your home and parents for, is holed up in a hotel that has been taken over by terrorists? What happens when you can hear her fear, her terror and yet can’t reach her? What happens when her battery dies out and there is no news? When all you see are visuals of death and destruction flashing across television screens, and yet not one of them shows you the face that you desire to see most?

The strength of Jha’s novel lies both in the timeliness its plot and the commonality of its characters. Apu and Ani, are indeed the guy and the gal next door. So is their love story. There is nothing extraordinary in it. It could have been your story or mine; perhaps therein lies its charm. The style of narration is also interesting. The protagonist recounts his  love story between periodic updates on the current terror situation (current being 26/11). This to and fro provides momentum and ensures that the story does not drag.

The language is colloquial – exceedingly so. It is almost as if the author has transcribed an audio tape. There is nothing literary in here – no subtlety of language, no word play, no poetry. In their stead are the cusswords, abbreviations and “cocky” slang that characterize the vocabulary of teenagers today. So you have words like baski (basketball is way to long), senti, uncomfy, coz, phattu and crud sprinkled liberally across the book.  The facebook lingo with a heavy (at times, unbearably so) dose of Hinglish is so evident that at times it seems contrived. But then perhaps the intention of the author was to produce a book for mass consumption in the language of the masses. For like it or not, Hinglish has become the language of the masses today.

If you are looking for a contemporary Indian love story that you can identify with, pick up A Dilli-Mumbai Love Story.

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On the occasion of William Makepeace Thackeray’s birthday today, we present to you the repeated adaptations of his famous work “Vanity Fair” on the audio-visual medium. He was famous for his satirical works and made the genre historical fiction his very own.

Vanity Fair (1923) was the first adaptation of William Makepeace Thackeray’s most remembered work. This was a silent film, directed by Hugo Ballin.

Vanity Fair (1932) is a modernized adaptation of William Makepeace Thackeray’s novel of the same name. The movie was directed by Chester M. Franklin and starred Myrna Loy. The story is reset in the twentieth century.

Vanity Fair (2004), this British-American costume drama film was directed by Mira Nair. Though an adaptation from Thackeray’s novel, there was substantial changes in this version, as the character of Becky Sharp had undergone a major transformation.

He film was nominated for “Golden Lion” Award in 2004 Venice Film Festival.

Vanity Fair (1998-TV serial), this drama serial adaptation of Thackeray’s novel was aired on BBC; it was also previously adapted by the same channel in the 1967 & 1987. The series was adjudged the best drama serial at The British Academy of Film and Television Arts in 1999.

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Pre-order a copy of  The Secret of the Nagas by Amish Tripathi – the second book in the Shiva Trilogy – from INDIAreads Online Library and Bookstore and get a chance to win a gift voucher worth Rs 200.

And you have to do nothing, fill no form. The minute you pre-order the book, we add a chit with you name into the Lucky Draw. 3 winners will be announced the day after the release of the book. They will get a gift voucher worth Rs 200 each.

This contest is open to all people living in India. (except INDIAreads staff and their family members) Winners will be selected on the basis of a lucky draw and their names will be announced here and on the INDIAreads Facebook page. The results of the lucky draw will be final.

To read more about The Secret of the Nagas or about the IMMORTALS of Meluha (Book 1 of the Trilogy) click here.

Robert Sheckley, ((July 16, 1928 – December 9, 2005), is a popular American Science fiction writer

Mr. Sheckley wrote more than 15 novels and around 400 short stories. He was so prolific in his heyday that we cannot estimate the actual total. Often the magazine editors requested him to publish some stories under pseudonyms to avoid having his byline appear repeatedly in an issue. 
Four of his stories were made into films; the best known, “The Tenth Victim” (1965), starred Marcello Mastroianni and Ursula Andress.

Born in Brooklyn and raised in Maplewood, N.J., Robert Sheckley had a two year (1946-48) stint with the U.S. army, having served in Korea. In 1951, he received an undergraduate degree from New York University and sold his first short story.

Over the next two decades, he was a major force behind the development of modern science fiction. His first collection of stories, published in 1954, was hailed as one of the finest debut volumes in the genre. In the 1960’s, he found a wider market for his fictions, as his stories started featuring in mainstream magazines such as Playboy.

Many of his novels were well received, among them “Journey Beyond Tomorrow”(1962) and “Dimension of Miracles” (1968), but Mr. Sheckley was best known for his short stories.

Mr. Sheckley’s works has been translated into German, Greek, Hungarian, Italian, Polish, Russian, Spanish, Swedish, Finnish and Lithuanian. His works are most sought after in Russia and Eastern Europe.

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For once I am posting something that has nothing whatsoever to do with books, apart from the poetry of the season that inspires me to write Yes, I am writing about the monsoons that I meet every day on my way to and fro office…..

Delhi’s long wait is finally over. The mighty monsoon winds kissed the city, as expected (for a change the Met got it right!) in the first week of July. And as the romance has just started, you can still see the Capital blushing in rain. It’s the same story every year; the two lovers meet, sizzle and bond for a period of three months. The scorching summer heat all but vanishes, though humidity level mounts frequently. It’s bearable, for have we not waited with bated breath for the rains? The chirping birds, noisy grasshoppers, the swaying tree branches create a symphony of their own. The city looks beautiful in all its splendour. The traffic moves slowly, waterlogged streets turn into the workplace of the MCD workers. They put aside uprooted trees, clear the overflowing drains, much to the amazement of children. The spectacle provides diversion during their trips to and from school. Anxious parents are often seen making way through water logged roads, looking for their wards.

The rain does create havoc but can we forget the fun elements associated with it? How children, adults shrug off the concerns of their near and dear ones, just to get wet in the rain. Suddenly the warm tea tastes awesome, plates full of snacks are emptied in no time. Shopping and dining plans get aborted at the last minute due to rain but really it’s worth it. The morning showers give us an excuse to take leave from office or at least arrive late. Children  have something other than their run on the mill excuses to skip classes. Bus stands, shop fronts, trees, over bridges become the temporary shelter point for pedestrians, bikers. And suddenly you find yourself stranded at some odd, lonely location for hours, and you are forced to admire and get acquainted with your surroundings while you wait for the Rain God to take a break.  Of course, when you get wet for the umpteenth time and pile of wet clothes to be put in the sun becomes too huge, you are bound to pull at your hair. but hey, it’s all a part of the rainy romance.

Delhi’s tryst with the monsoon has started. It’s time to unwind from the stresses and get immerged in the flavour of the season. It’s time to be happy and spreading happiness all around us. Everything seems beautiful in rainy season, for does it not precede winter and festivities galore?

Pablo Neruda

• Neruda was born Ricardo Eliecer Neftali Reyes Basoalto. He took his pen name from the Czech author Jan Neruda.
• Although Neruda’s father opposed his writing interests, he persisted and had his first essay published at the age of 13.
• His Veinte Poemas, which includes the acclaimed poem “Tonight I Can Write,” was considered highly controversial because of its explicitly sexual nature. Neruda was only 19 years old when the volume it was published.
• Neruda was invited to speak at the International PEN Conference in 1966 and, despite the fact that he was officially banned from the United States, he was granted a special visa to attend.
• Chilean leader Pinochet tried to outlaw the public from attending Neruda’s funeral, but thousands of people broke curfew and attended anyway. This is considered the first public protest against Chilean dictators.

“A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn’t play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly”……Pablo Neruda

Henry David Thoreau

Henry David Thoreau was a true child of nature. He appreciated the natural environment on a deep level, finding spiritual replenishment and inspiration in his lengthy walks each day. Henry pursued his own ideals in every aspect of his life. He moved to Walden Pond as an experiment in living simply and deliberately, while taking ample time for writing, walking, and observing nature.

Walden and duty of civil disobedience is considered his notable work.

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The Scarlet Letter- A

The recurring themes of adultery, cheating, abandonment and shameful punishment of women, dominate the novel “The Scarlet Letter”. The main protagonist Hester Prynne is condemned, after it became evident that she cheated on her husband. During her husband’s long absence, who was believed to have been lost in the sea, she had an illicit affair with minister Dimmesdale. The relationship resulted into the birth of a daughter. The mother along with the illegitimate daughter were ostracized from the society, paraded all round the town. She was forced out of the town with the rag of scarlet cloth, shaped as A, attached to her chest. The scarlet letter A symbolizes adultery. Thus, the woman had to live with this curse for the whole of her life. The wrath of public ridicule kept on darting towards her. Minister Dimmesdale did not have the courage to publicly acknowledge the child. The gross injustice, sins that he committed, by abandoning his secret lover and child, shattered him from within. A mysterious heart ailment was all he was paying in return for his vices.

Hester Prynne’s husband, Chillingworth, who appears in the later stages, adds twist to the plot. He was no match for her, being far too old. With the deep buried desire to discover her secret lover, he was very cordial towards her. Even after receiving all the criticisms, brickbats, she never revealed the identity of her lover. The fact highlights the  stubborn, honest and fighting side of a woman, pitted against the raging males of a patriarchal society.

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With the number of Indian students – particularly middle class Indian students – hitting foreign shores these days, I often wondered why someone hadn’t come up with a book sharing their forays into the unknown. After all there is so much to tell – the excitement, the anxiety, the discoveries, the little moments and incidents that may seem hilarious to a reader, but which for a student are often life altering. I should know. Been there, experienced that. That, of course, was many years ago. Much has changed since then, I am sure. So, it was with much anticipation that I picked up Arnab Chakraborty’s der deutsche sommer or DDS, in short. And before you begin to wonder, the book is very much in English.

DDS starts on a promising note. The author recreates the feelings of a 21 year old small town guy, who even though he has experienced life in the metroes has never had a stamp on his passport before. How does this guy deal with the excitement fringed with trepidation that envelopes him as he boards an international flight for the first time? How does he handle the cosmopolitanism of the airports, the immigration queues, the sudden surge of nationalism – the overt manifestation of a natural instinct to find common ground in an alien environ? Ask any first timer who is flying abroad for an internship or a degree; he or she will identify with many of the straight-from-the-heart sentiments shared here through long winded, seemingly never-ending sentences. Yes, the book holds promise, not just because of the subject but because of the honesty with which the author has handled it. He has even tried to enrich the experience by adding doses of wiki-ed information. In the beginning, especially in the first few chapters, these snippets are carefully woven in. So even as Arnab tries to show you the various emotions splashed across the canvas of his head and heart at the Indira Gandhi International Airport, you learn that South Asia’s biggest Aviation hub started off as an Air Force base during the second world war. Interesting!

Once the author reaches Germany, however, the disappointment starts. As he puts in page after page of straight-from-the-internet information on the sights and sounds of the various places he has visited, you can’t help missing the protagonist. Perhaps, students flying to Germany, and particularly to the RWTH Aachen University will find it useful to have the historical, cultural and touristy information about their university and places surrounding it in one place; not to mention detailed information about the man who even today continues to fascinate millions, if only due to his brutality and stratagem. I, for one, was more interested in learning about how the author navigated these places. What sights did he see? How did he find them – physically and aesthetically? Did he have any interesting experiences in the much talked about Red Light District of Amsterdam? How did he handle the language issues? How different was the learning experience? The shopping experience?

Occasionally, Arnab surfaces to relate one or two such anecdotes, like the problems of being a vegetarian in the place or the excitement during the FIFA World Cup, but they are so few and so far in between that one has a tough time locating them. Towards the end, when you almost give up hope of encountering any experiences a’la Gopal from Anurag Mathur’s The Inscrutable Americans, the author reappears to take you on a stroll in Hamburg. Briefly, you encounter a bunch of 20 somethings determined to enjoy all the pleasures afforded by a foreign land, away from parental vigilance.

All in all, if DDS was edited better and if the author focused more on his own experiences than on wiki-knowledge, this one would have been a must read. As of now, it is a scrapbook of a student who spent 2 months in Germany with all the essential ingredients – snippets of feelings, friendly exchanges, ticket stubs, names of associates and dollops of information booklets. If you are a student travelling abroad, pick it up. It’ll strike a chord; perhaps even inspire you to start your own scrapbook and share it with the world.

Finally, a word of caution. If you pick up a copy of the book and find the end hanging, do not worry. Only one word is missing, drinks. Can’t the blame the author for this one -printing/ publishing mistake but it sure leaves you feeling a little cheated.

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On the occasion of Rohinton Mistry’s birthday, we from the INDIAreads team present heart rendering quotes from some of his novels.

1. “…you have to use your failures as stepping stones to success. You have to maintain a fine balance between hope and despair. In the end it’s all a question of balance.”

(A Fine Balance)

1. “Everyone underestimates their own life. Funny thing is, in the end, all our stories…they’re the same. In fact, no matter where you go in the world, there is only one important story: of youth, loss and yearning for redemption. So we tell the same story, over and over. Only the details are different. ”

(Family Matters)

1. “You see, we cannot draw lines and compartments and refuse to budge beyond them. Sometimes you have to use your failures as stepping-stones to success. You have to maintain a fine balance between hope and despair.’ He paused, considering what he had just said. ‘Yes’, he repeated. ‘In the end, it’s all a question of balance.”

(A Fine Balance)

1. “Flirting with madness was one thing; when madness started flirting back, it was time to call the whole thing off.”

(A Fine Balance)

1. “But nobody ever forgot anything, not really, though sometimes they pretended, when it suited them. Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be recreated – not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.”

(A Fine Balance)

1. “After all, our lives are but a sequence of accidents – a clanking chain of chance events. A string of choices, casual or deliberate, which add up to that one big calamity we call life.”

(A Fine Balance)

1. “What an unreliable thing is time–when I want it to fly, the hours stick to me like glue. And what a changeable thing, too. Time is the twine to tie our lives into parcels of years and months. Or a rubber band stretched to suit our fancy. Time can be the pretty ribbon in a little girl’s hair. Or the lines in your face, stealing your youthful colour and your hair. …. But in the end, time is a noose around the neck, strangling slowly.”

(A Fine Balance)

1. “…loss is essential, loss is part and parcel of that necessary calamity called life. Mind you, I’m not complaining. Thanks to some inexplicable universal guiding force, it is always the worthless things we lose – slough off, like a moulting snake. Losing and losing again, is the very basis of the process, til all we are left with is the bare essence of human existence…”

1. “…God is a giant quiltmaker. With an infinite variety of designs. And the quilt is grown so big and confusing, the pattern is impossible to see, the squares and diamonds and triangles don’t fit well together anymore, it’s all become meaningless. So He has abandoned it.”

(A Fine Balance)

1. “Walk, first, through the fire, then philosophize…”

1. “What folly made young people, even those in middle age, think they were immortal? How much better, their lives, if they could remember the end. Carrying your death with you every day would make it hard to waste time on unkindness and anger and bitterness, on anything petty. That was the secret: remembering your dying time, in order to keep the stupid and the ugly out of your living time.”

(Family Matters)

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