The Peshwa - Book Review

My first impression of Ram Sivasankaran’s the Peshwa was that this book attempts to cash on the popularity of the film Bajirao-Mastani. I thought this was a film made into a book. But thankfully the book proved my preconceived notions wrong. This book is about Bajirao and not about Mastani.

This book traces the journey of Bajirao to the seat of Peshwa. When the novel opens we meet a young Bajirao who accompanies his aging father on his expeditions. His father’s ill-health makes Bajirao a chief contender to be the next Peshwa. But Peshwa’s post was never hereditary. This leads to a power struggle between Bajirao and Sardar Dabhade. Eventually it is Bajirao who becomes the Peshwa.

If Bajirao is the protagonist of this book, then Nizam-ul-mulk is its antagonist. This book is as much about the Nizam as it about Bajirao.

The author does a wonderful job in articulating the dynamics of human relationships. Be it power struggle between Bajirao and Dabhade or Nizam’s relationship with his adopted son, he gets it right. He brings human greed, ambitions, insecurities to the fore. The sect of Scorpions adds intrigue to this fast paced narrative. He does reasonable justice to Bajirao’s wife Kashi as well. The parallel tracks of Dabhade-Bajirao, Bajirao-Kashi, Nizam-Syed-Emperor and Nizam-Rahim make this novel multi-layered, colourful and damn interesting.

What I disliked about the book is that ends abruptly with Mastani’s entry. Perhaps the writer makes way for the next part in the series. However he should have made it explicit.

While the writer gets Maharashtrian Brahmin culture correct at some places, at some places he goes terribly wrong. Maharashtrians do not come dressed in all white for funeral. The same goes true with the names Kashmira and Jamnaben. Kashibai combs her hair in the midnight. Maharashtrian women look down upon combing the hair in the evening or night. For it is only the streetwalkers who get dressed up at those hours. The writer also depicts Maharashtrian wedding incorrectly. I wish he had researched a little more about these aspects.

Yet, I liked the Peshwa. If you are a lover of historical fiction, you will like it too.

7 Secrets of Shiva - Book Review

The first chapter of Devdutt Pattanaik’s 7 Secrets of Shiva focuses on the meaning of the Shiva-linga, a meaning which is deeper than the titillation offered by a phallic symbol. The author says that the Western preference for form over thought stems from their cultural preference over the subjective. Hindus, on the other hand, are very comfortable with the subjective, hence can easily overlook form and focus on thought. The second chapter looks on Shiva’s violent contempt of territorial behaviour amongst humans. The third and fourth chapters of the book look at how the Goddess gets Shiva to engage with the world out of compassion. The next two chapters deal with Shiva’s two sons Ganesha and Murugan, through whom he connects with the world. Shiva is the only God who is worshipped along with his entire family viz. wife and children. The final chapter revolves around Shiva’s role as a wise teacher who expresses wisdom through his dance.

The author says when the perception is incomplete and inaccurate, God is not worshipped as in the case of Brahma. When perception is complete and accurate, God is worshipped as in the case of Shiva and Vishnu. He further says that Shiva is a God who breaks free from all forms, having found all of them limited, hence he is the destroyer who is worshipped as linga.

According to the author, Dutta is the gentler form of Bhairava. Speaking of Yagna he says that it is all about controlling the wild nature and domesticating it so that it comes under human control, becomes manageable, predictable and hence less frightening. He say the rice balls offered during funeral ceremony represent the human body because ultimately food forms the building block of the flesh. I liked this logic offered by the author.

He says if Lakshmi brings wealth, then Sarawati brings peace. Only Ganesha is able to bring them together. He removes the obstacles to wisdom. He narrates the various versions of how Ganesha got his elephant head. But I have one query, why didn’t the all powerful Shiva not fix the boy’s head back on his body. Why did he require the head of another animal? Unfortunately this query is not answered in the book.

Yet with its simple narrative, interesting anecdotes, 7 Secrets of Shiva is worth reading.

7 Secrets of the Goddess

Hindu mythology is an esoteric secret. Devdutt Pattanaik is one of those persons who has tried to interpret the underlaying meanings behind Hindu mythology and of course the Gods and Goddesses therein. Reading his books is sheer delight and 7 Secrets of the Goddess is no exception to it.

In the opening chapter Gaia’s Secret the author narrates how female form have been reverred through all times and cultures, chiefly because of her ability to give birth to a new life. He says that earlier virgin woman, meant a woman who was ready to bear a child. Every woman then was a virgin between the menstruations at the time of ovulation. This virginity is restored after childbirth. He then tells us how the sense of ownership and the dominance of the males degraded the status of the women and gave them a secondary status in the society.

Kali is undoubtedly most interesting and most scary form of the Hindu Goddesses. The author makes a very bold and perhaps far stretched conclusion that Radha has all the characteristics of Kali not in form but in thought. He refers to the unabashed love of the married Radha towards Krishna. Speaking of Kali, he further says that it is the Kali-side of Draupadi that makes her take the vow that she will wash her hair with the blood of the men who abused her. In fact, in these traditions, the story goes that Vishnu takes his various avatars such as Parshuram, Ram and Krishna only to satisfy the bloodlust of Kali, who wants to drink the blood of men who treat her with disrespect.

According to the author the head is the home of the Saraswati and perhaps that is the reason why Hindus paint their forehead with sacred marks. A dot, or the bindu, in the centre of the forehead is an indicator of human potential.

Speaking of Laxmi he says she is the daughter of Puloman, who rules the land below the earth and does not release Laxmi easily. Humanity has to invent complex agricultural and mining processes to procure wealth from the earth. Laxmi is attracted to men of actions that demonstrate strength and smartness. If you display strength and shrewdness, she will come to you. If you fail to do that, she will not stay with you for long.

The author adds to our knowledge by sharing with us that in the yagna-way there is no clear concept of God. There are only gods or devas. In the puja way gods/devas are replaced by God/Mahadeva, the tone is more emotional than technical.

There are interesting tales of Gauri, Durga, the more benign form of Kali and Vithhai in the book. In the latter case he elaborates the Purusha and Prakriti, and the traditions of seeing the female form in the male form.

This book is damn interesting. You will not put it down until you have reached the last page. All of us are accustomed to the authors illustrations. But over a period of time they had become repetitive. In this book we have rare pictures on every page on the left. The captions associated with them are prosaic. Better particulars of those images would have definitely helped an inquisitive reader to quench his thirst for knowledge.

My father is a hero

My father is a Hero by Nishant Kaushik is about a single father Vaibhav and his daughter Nisha. Nisha is in her school. On one of her birthdays she discovers that she was an unwanted child for her mother and that was the reason why she deserted her father. Since that day Nisha remains withdrawn. It affects her performance at school too. She is a great fan of a pop star called Rihana. Finally after many dramatic incidents she meets her icon and the novel ends.

A single father and his daughter’s relationship was an interesting premise. Unfortunately the plot falls flat. Thanks to the equally flat characters which have no skin, flesh and voice of their own. The novel consumes too much time in Vaibhav’s love-hate relationship with his boss. Sub-characters like Nisha’s teacher who has hots for Vaibhav distract the novel.

But the novel shines towards the end, especially when the father-daughter duo goes to Australia to meet Rihana. Here the novel gathers the much needed pace and linearity. The tension, the disappointments come out very well in this part, which forms only the last few pages of the book. I liked the line, ‘He always knew he would never be able to show her the world. But he did hope he could make those three days mean the world to her.’

The author commits mistakes like describing Vaibhav Kulkarni wearing a veil of flowers in his marriage. Maharashtrian weddings do not have this custom. Such mistakes, though minor, make the story unreal.

So read this book at your own risk

The Laughing Skull - Book Review

Hill stations are all about the soothing weather, susurrating woods, singing birds, lonely houses standing near the cliffs and ghosts residing in it. No wonders paranormal finds a mention in India’s most celebrated writer of the hills Ruskin Bond. The Laughing Skull claims to contain stories of ghosts and spirits, prets and jinns. But let me warn you these are no ghost stories the way we are conditioned to perceive. These are typical Ruskin Bond stories in which the ghost is just an another character.

The opening story the Laughing Skull is about the author’s love and hate relationship with a skull which his medical student nephew brings along with him. Susanna’s Seven Husbands made famous by Vishal Bharadwaj in Saat Khoon Maaf also is a part of this collection. The only ghost here is Susanna, who is seen driving into her buggy many years after her death. This ghost of course is just a passing reference and is not an integral part of her story.

The Overcoat and On Fairy Hill are about the seductive encounters of the author with beautiful young nymphs. Bhoot Aunty which is an extract from Mr. Oliver’s diary comes here too. This story reminds me of O Henry’s writings. A Face in the Dark which has been published in earlier collections of Mr. Bond is a part of this collection too. The Chakrata Cat is about a cat with a human head. From the Primaeval Past is the story of a man-eater lake. Some Hill Stations Ghosts is a random collection of ghosts of various hills.

Pret in the House which is the author’s favourite story is my favourite too. This story is about a ghost which decides to move to a new house along with the family. A Traveller’s Tale is again about a colonial ghost, who is an obedient servant. A Dreadful Gurgle is set amidst the dormitory of brats. He Who Rides Tiger is about a Muslim fakir named Mobrah Gazi.

The Wind on the Haunted Hill is about three children who mistake each other to be the infamous ghosts. He said it with Arsenic is about the author’s uncle Jones, a male nurse who uses his access to medicines to kill his and his paramour’s spouse, and in the old age decides to use the dose on the author. A job well done, with no ghosts, no spirits, is about how the author’s step father was buried alive into a well. In a Face Under the Pillow the author tells us why he carries his own pillow wherever he goes. A Demon For Work is the story which is part of the folklore. It is about the demon who cannot sit idle. The Happy Herdsman and the Tiger King’s Gift are fairy tales and not a ghost stories for sure. The Wicked Guru too has no any trace of any paranormal element. The Ghost and the Idiot is about a ghost which is terrified of the idiot's belligerent wife.

Eyes of the Cat is a story about a poor girl who is insulted by her teacher. Ruskin Bond builds the intrigue very well in this story and we are left with enough material to surmise that it is the girl who turns into leopard in the night. The White Pigeon is a story about promises kept after the death.

Ruskin Bond is ever green. He entertains through his stories which are of course not scary. But the book is ridden with punctuation errors. I wish these were avoided.

I'd rather read - book review

 

Books give immense pleasure. Only the person who is fond of reading can understand the unparalleled joy which books give. So it is indeed a great treat to read what authors feel about their favourite books. I’d Rather Read comes with a subtitle Your Favourite Authors on Their Favourite Books. However the book is more about how these writers were inducted into reading than their favourite books.

While Sudha Murty and Ruskin Bond have written (in their other writings) about their childhood and the influence which reading has had on their childhood, others writers have seldom written about it.

Jash Sen very beautifully creates the atmosphere of reading a thriller in the late deserted night. I held my breath and absolutely related to him while reading the following lines. ‘Over the next few hours, you will hold your breath, you will breath shallow out of excitement, but you won’t know it, for the story will build up tension and all you will remember is to much on a biscuit every time it gets too tense.’

Indeed Jash Sen’s piece is exciting, thrilling and undoubtedly USP of this book.

I also liked what Anita Nair has to say about children. She says, ‘Children don’t remember authors. They remember stories. A child doesn’t read a book because it is fashionable to do so. They read only because the story speaks to them. Children start a book with neither prejudice nor expectations. That makes them a true reader in every sense.’

Arundhati Venkatesh speaks of a childhood which every child born in or before eighties can relate. She says that during her growing up years the adults were too busy with the household chores to foist the books on her. They nagged endlessly about posture or poor lighting and complained about her reading habits. Her words brought my mother, grandmother and father in front of my eyes.

In her write up Deepa Agarwal says, a book is a gift box of all the possibilities you can conjure up to transform your mundane world. So read on!’

This book is a rare feast for every child and every person who was a child at some point of time. This book is not to be missed.

This all about my Jug

We were standing outside Regal Cinema. The show was to begin at 3 pm. I checked my watch, it was 2.30 pm. The doorkeeper had told us that we would be taken inside only five minutes before. Helpless we waited outside the cinema.

'Come on, let us go and eat something.' Sagir said.

'No. If we do that we will be late. I do not wish to miss the beginning.' I said.

'Ok. Then let us eat mangoes.' He said and took out two mangoes from his backpack.

'Here?' I asked as I preened through the crowd which was waiting outside the hall.

'Yes.' Sagir said.

'We don't have a knife to cut it.' I said.

'You don't need a knife. Just press the mango from all sides and then bite it. The juice will flow into your mouth.'

'What others will say?' I asked. I was uncomfortable eating mango in full public view in the most dirty manner.

'What they will have to say? Are we smoking? Are we eating pan masala? We are not indulging in any addictions. We are eating the gift of nature.' Said Sagir and squeezed the mango into his mouth.

At that moment I wondered when was the last time I had done any thing without thinking what others would say. I admired Sagir's ability to carry out the commands of his heart. Yet I was uncomfortable eating the mango with both my hands.

By now Sagir was about to finish his mango.

'What are you thinking? Simply go ahead.' He said.

Hesitantly I pressed the mango very gently from all sides, as if it contained my baby.

'Now chew it from the side of the stem.' Sagir said.
 
I followed his advice. The juice of the fruit had never tasted so sweet. But some of it trickled down my elbows. I was embarrassed. What others would think of me? They would consider me to be a dirty, unsophisticated man. But as I continued to eat the mango, all the shame, discomfort withered away.

When I finished it I thought that I ate fruit of confidence rather than the mango. That mango not only made me feel confident but also made me happy. Suddenly what others said did not matter at all. I had overcome the what others will think syndrome. This is what my Jug, my Sagir had taught me.

Our weekly escapades made me even more confident and happy. We would sing loudly on the deserted streets of Fort, which during the night time were almost deserted. We would eat at the most unhygienic stalls and laugh to our hearts content.

 Before meeting Sagir, I behaved as if the burden of the whole world was put on my shoulders. But Sagir taught me to laugh, he taught me to enjoy, he taught me not to take life too seriously. He taught me to love myself. For this act of his I am eternally grateful to him. 

“I am writing about Jug in my life for the #DearZindagi activity at BlogAdda“