Monday, July 6

Amish Tripathi's 'Scion of Ikshvaku' is both entertaining and bland at the same time.

Book: Scion Of Ikshvaku
Language: English

might contain some spoilers...

If you've been born and brought up in India, there's not much I can spoil with my Scion of Ikshvaku review. We all have heard or read or seen some variation of Ramayana, the story Maryada purushottam Ram, the epitome of perfection, and his struggle to revive Ayodhya its past glory.

This sort of book (a re-telling of a previous classic) is easier to write, I believe, as you already have a well-established plot to base your story on. You have all the situations handed over to you, the struggles of the family, the dual-lives of an emperor, the throne succession, the politics of it and everything else. Amish didn't have to sit and ponder over any character arc, he knew how Ram was going to be, how Dasrath was going to be and so on. What I give Amish credit for is, he stayed entirely true to his idea of the world that Ram and Ravana lived in. There were no shortcuts (read: magic), like a person couldn't just disappear to save his live with some old mantra. And hence, I am going to judge it purely on the basis of how Amish handled this subject, his own interpretation of the work and not Ram's story itself.

Friday, January 2

Ab Toh Teri Awaaz! (Poem In Hindi On Love And Break Up)

[This is a breakup poem in Hindi written by a guy for his girlfriend. If you like it, please share on Facebook. You can read all of my poems in poems here- Link]

khaane ke naam pe apne gam ko kha jaata hun,
pyaas lagti hai toh in aansuo ko pi jaata hun,

ek jhuti muskaan ka chaadar odhe, sabko bewkoof bana jaata hun,
chali gayi kahin mujhe is bheed mei akele chode,
isi baat se pareshan ho jaata hun,

neend mei kayi rangeen kywaab bun jaata hun,
tu sapno mei toh aayegi yahi soch ghanto so jaata hun,

wo lamhe yaad karke aaj bhi muskura jaata hun,
thoda pagal pehle se tha, thoda tera naam sunne se ho jaata hun,

aage badhne ki chahat bahut hoti hai,
par tu aayegi wapas isi umeed mei beth jaata hun,

saath nibhaane wale log hai mere saath,
par tanhai mei tera saath na paake, ro jaata hun,

jaanta hun, ab sab pehle sa nahi ho sakta,
par tab bhi apne man ko behla jaata hun,
tujhe bhulna aashan nahi,
kyoki har waqt teri yaadon mei khoya rahta hun,

fursat mei jab kuch likhne bethta hun,
toh har panne pe sirf tera zikr paata hun,

jaan, ab toh teri awaaz sunne ko bhi taras jaata hun!


Sunday, October 5

Chetan Bhagat's Half Girlfriend is Full Nonsense!

Book: Half Girlfriend
Author: Chetan Bhagat, best selling Indian author
Language: English

spoilers ahead…

I had to read it. , as the people who read books only while travelling in trains believe, is one of the best Indian writers. And it had been too long. 2 States was the last book I read of a Best-selling Indian Author.

So, I sat with a highlighter and opened the first page of the brand new Chetan Bhagat book, Half Girlfriend which had a few seconds teaser when the book was announced. A really really stupid teaser. Link for the lazy.

Premise and Plot

The book starts with Bhagat being stalked by a guy in his hotel in Patna. Bhagat tries to shrug him off but he’s very persistent and he carries a torn notebook with him. He wants Bhagat to read it, because he thinks a busy writer like Bhagat has nothing else on his schedule. After a while, when he’s not able to convince Bhagat to read the notes, he plays the death card and tells him these are his girlfriend’s notes who died some time ago. This troubles Bhagat greatly as he states, ‘you can’t pick up a chocolate when someone has just mentioned a death’. I know if it’s not someone close, death is merely a statistic. But surely, Bhagat can say it in a way so as to not appear as an unsympathetic idiot.

Saturday, September 20

A Drive With No Destination!

I’m on the passenger seat. The highway is dark and foggy. Our flight landed an hour ago and we were greeted with the sudden chill of Delhi’s winter. They told us it was going to be cold, but I didn’t know they meant we would be cracking our jaw. There is no stop to this. Madness. We are enroute Jaipur. It will take us this entire night to reach. I’m sitting on the front seat and when I look out of the glass, there’s nothing else but this darkness fighting with our Innova’s headlights. I’m scared the Innova would surrender and we’d be stuck in this eternal darkness. It’ll embrace us from everywhere. A big dark blanket and nothing will matter ever again.
I’m driving. Rain has paused. I hate driving during the rains. Those torrential downpours. The wipers of my i20 could have been manufactured with more love. They give up on wiping pretty easily. There’s no fight in them. I keep on flicking my headlights stick to ensure people driving alongside me know I am scared. I am really really scared. Rain finally stops and the world is beautiful and calm and pure again. I get out of my car. I think, the people who invented slow motion cameras were inspired by scenes after rain. The world sort of slows down. People folding their umbrellas, wiping their foreheads and spectacles, birds making their music, animals shaking their body to get into the groove, tree leafs holding on to those smallest of water droplets and there’s laughter somewhere, you can hear it, kids, some kids are always there, swimming in the rain puddles. Kolkata streets are full of them, the kids and the puddles.