Book Review: The Kite Runner

The Kite Runner, an international Bestseller, came to me as a birthday gift, and it is like none other. It is authored by Khaled Hosseni and is his debut novel. I read the 10th anniversary edition, little late indeed!

Khaled Hosseni is an Afghanistan born author, settled in the United States.

Still running my hands on the embossed letters of the book cover, which read "The Kite Runner", my mind riding back on the intelligent portrayal of the grim realities of the contemporary Afghanistan. I am assuming that this story is largely inspired from reality and has something to do with author's real life incidences. If not, I would call it exemplary and intense imagination.

The plot is set in Afghanistan, Pakistan and some in America. It is about two children -Amir and Hassan who are grow up together. Then it turns towards the brutalities of French and Taliban. Amir comes back to Pakistan and then Afghanistan only to find extremities in the country. There are a lot of twists and turns, a lot of thrill and suspense on what shall happen forth. You can hardly predict a subsequent incidence. You keep getting surprised throughout. You will feel as if you are soaked in the agony and pain of the characters. You can feel yourself to be present there and witnessing the incidences. The story telling is excellent. Minute details are covered well. Characters come in and go and come back in when you are anticipating them the least.

It's difficult to put the book down even when you are half asleep. Exactly when you feel that you can predict what is happening next, a twist pops in.

I wonder how I could take so much time to finish this book and still never get bored of it. It kept me hooked to itself, at the end of every chapter I had been tempted to read another one.

Some interesting lines from the book-
"For you, a thousand times over."

"Children aren't coloring books. You don't get to fill them with your favorite colors."

"...attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun."

"Every woman needed a husband, even if he did silence the song in her."
This book is for those who are fond of beautifully tragic fiction . However, it's not just about that. But yes, there is nothing HAPPY in this. You may feel gloomy at times. It might feel lengthy since a lot of details are covered, which could have been omitted.

I rate it 4 on 5 and recommend for all the fiction lovers who like surprises at all the stages and ready to read a not so happy-go-lucky plot.

(PS: the reviews expressed here are based on my personal reading experience, and do not intend to defame, derate or 

degrade the sale or vice-versa for the book. I am not paid for writing this review.)

If you are an author and want your book to be reviewed, drop an email at bookreviews@mansiladha.com.

Read more

Pyarelal aur Premwati ki Navratri a.k.a Valentine Week

So we are in the middle of the Valentine's festival. The first one to intimate about this was the bombardment of Valentine's jokes and memes on Whatsapp. Of these the best was- wo kya kisi ko rose denge,  zindagi jinki roz le rahi hai.

Although it's for "couples" (in double quotes), but this is an occasion where feminism dominates. It's an attack on the pocket of THE men, especially, teenagers! Sincere homages to Mr. Pyarelal who is vulnerable to the year's second big financial crisis apart from Premwati's birthday! Because every sweetu, jaanu, shona, babu has to repay their debt of being called so.

Pondering on how and when did it all begin? Long back, there was no lovey dovey genre of Valentine's day, but now it is. And not only this, it brought along with it a whole week comprising of Rose day, Chocolate day, Teddy day, Hug day and a few more. Of them, the most cost effective one for the cupid-struck Pyarelal is Rose day (barring the mention of uncensored K*** day and Jaadu-ki-jhappi day for obvious reasons).

Imagine if they start having a converse series of days for the loote-hue-aashiqs (the abandoned lovers) like romeo day, thappad day, daaru day, friend-zoned day, girlfriend-bani-bhabhi day etc. You never know!

Are the ladies out there giving me the look of the sajish-karti-hui TV serial MIL!? Sorry, but no sorry. For the guys, teddies, chocolates and roses are not the sole expressions of love to the fair gender, may be catalysts.

If you come across a gift shop, the whole interior these days is in red, the so-called colour of love. If you are in school, you have to be doubly sure your family remains uninformed of how you used the pocket money this month! Or you are gone.

Yesterday the devotee in me felt like stepping into a flower shop outside a temple to get flowers for offering to god . To my surprise, even they were running short of flowers. Dear god, it's off season for you, please wait!

Thanks to Bollywood movies for making this phony, cheesy, highly romanticised and commercial expression of feelings, compressed into a single day's celebration. By the way, Kaun kehta hai pyaar ek baar hota hai tumhe jitni baar dekho utni baar hota hai. True?

Read more

Bengaluru's Road Riddle

Helmets helmets everywhere, nobody is going anywhere...

According to a statistics published by a leading daily, Bengaluru has over 60 lakh registered vehicles. That is, one vehicle for every two people. Adding to this are transport vehicles, office cabs, office buses, 6600+ city buses (best to my knowledge). 

There is a common factor that binds all the Bengalurians, and that is traffic, and complaints about traffic. I am one of them (expressed the experience on From Baby to Bhabhi here)

Complaining is easy! Blaming the authorities and government is easier! Cooperating with the inevitable is the easiest! I believe in Dale Carnegie's quote from How to Stop Worrying And Start Living - "It is so, it can't be otherwise." Therefore, keeping frustration aside, I am presenting my humorous perspective on the bumper-to-bumper traffic of the city. And yes, this post occurred to my mind while I was struggling to cross an ever-red traffic signal one fine day.

1) In Bengaluru, distance, unlike other parts of India, is not measured in minutes but real kilometers v/s the number of vehicles on the road. In other parts of India, you say "Bhai 10 min ka raasta hai. Abhi aata hun." On the contrary, here you say, "Bhai 2 kilometer ka distance hai, kabhi na kabhi to pahuch hi jaaunga." Moreover, you will always miss the Vicco Turmeric advertisement at the start of a movie.

2) You can never be the first person on a traffic signal. Apparently, you are always so far from the signal that you can't make out whether it is red or green. You miss the count of how many times it changed the colour.

3) If you drive a two-wheeler, you can vroom vroom only on the zones that four wheeler or heavy vehicles leave for you. No lane is dedicated to you and hence, you are as free as a bird. If a car driver keeps safe distance, two wheelers slip in between, thinking the driver gave them way!

4) "Helmet aapki suraksha ke liye hai"- people here understand well. If not, the traffic police will suck even the last penny from your pocket as fine. FYI, no credit cards or paytm is accepted!

5) Slow and steady wins the race. Remember the childhood tale of rabbit and tortoise. Here the pedestrian is the tortoise who reaches earlier than any of your luxury bike or car. While the rabbit is still perspiring to see the signal turn green, the pedestrian has effortlessly went across. 

6) Blowing horn does imply only one thing - "Hands Up! I am overtaking you" In rest of the India, you blow horn to request the preceding vehicle for side. But here the poor guy has no side to give side.  

7) There is no rush hour and empty roads are a myth. Oh, you think you are clever to skip the peak rush hour. Sorry but no sorry, the peak hours start early morning and end at night.

8)  Coal tar for your car. They construct roads only with coal tar, no cement at all. Bengaluru's rains and infinite number of road users do not allow the roads to live long. But yes, the repair work is appreciable. They repair the roads overnight.

9) Mini heart attacks come in the form of cabs and buses. When they pass from nearby keeping hairline distance, you feel like buying a helicopter on EMI, or getting a life insurance.

10) You don't always need to accelerate your bike. Using your foot to make it a bullock cart is recommended. Avoid stepping on others' feet while you do that. Pro tip- Get branded shoes.

Best luck for your next tide, oops! ride.

(Disclaimer: This post does not intend to harm, defame, or hurt the sentiments of any person, gender, religion, political party, news channel, religious belief, god or to whomsoever it may concern. I sincerely apologize in advance if it is so.)

Read more

नज़र

नज़र नज़र में नज़रिया बदल जाता है,

एक नज़र में जीने का जरिया बदल जाता है |

- Random Thought by me

Read more

Our Shanta Bai is Not a Thief

Wednesday. 8:40 AM. Ding Dong. Look who's at the door- our very own Shanta Bai. That's the name I have given to our maid because, with my scarce knowledge of Kannada and her zero knowledge of Hindi, I can't ask her name!

A few seconds later. The kitchen is purging with the customary sound of her washing the utensils and the fragrance of ready to be savoured ginger tea. We courteously asked the old lady if she needs warm water to wash utensils, saying "bisi neeru bekaaaa?" (Kannada). She cracked some joke in her language and giggled at our intentions, leaving us puzzled. Apologetically, we barely could afford a smile.

8:50 AM. Ding dong. I and hubby questioned  each other with our eyes-doing-the-talking -"who is it?", as we do not expect any other visits on a usual day. 

I was brushing my teeth. Hubby opened the door only to find our Khooni Padosan waiting. eeeehh... I mean our next door neighbour. Oh, you are wondering why I call her Khooni Padosan? Mrs. Khooni Padosan , a lady in her early 40s, according to me is suffering from hyper-negativity-towards-the-planet-and-its-creatures (if they have discovered one such disease yet). She can retort at anything and everything, like the landlord, her husband, her sister-in-law, the road, weather, keys of the apartment entrance, municipal corporation and even mosquitoes.

She was explicit enough to blame our Shanta Bai for having picked up her Sennheiser earphones from the staircase. Worst thing, she did not suspect, she declared the verdict- "your maid has picked up my earphones from the stairs". Strangely, she was sure about it without any proof. 

Meanwhile, I am still brushing my teeth and the hubbub of utensils being harassed prevails. Our innocent bai who was unaware of our Hindi conversation continued with what she is employed for.

Hubby came in. Checked his bag. The earphones he had picked up from the stairs on the weekend, suspecting them to have fallen from his bag, originally belonged to the Khooni Padosan. The same earphones which she had declared as stolen by the maid. He and I own two pairs of earphones of the same brand. So our twin earphones had another sibling on the building floor!

To live happily-ever-after and save Shanta Bai from her curse, we hopped to her flat and returned her property, narrating our version of the case of accidental lifting of the abandoned item. Also, added that Shanta bai has already undergone our series of anti-theft tests and that she never bothers for anything except salary hike, daily tea and a pack of Parle-G every fortnight. Not only this, she makes sure that we close our door while she leaves, for which she has to shout at our recklessness, at times. She is motherly.

Moral of the story- Dear moron, investigate and inquire before you blame our Shanta bai or any poor person of theft.

(Disclaimer: This post does not intend to harm, defame, or hurt the sentiments of any person, gender, religion, political party, news channel, religious belief, god or to whomsoever it may concern. I sincerely apologize in advance if it is so.)

Read more

Nothing But Hunger!

Peeping out of the window of the fourth floor of my office sipping from my mug of green tea this winter afternoon, I was simply observing the traffic and mortals on the road. I noticed something. Something which is very usual for most of us.

A street vendor stood across the road with his cart, beneath a luxurious showroom. The cart carried corns (roasted corns is what he supposedly had been vending). Let's name him Bhuttaswamy.

Bhuttaswamy was a middle aged, wearing white shirt and gray pants, waiting for his customers. Amongst the hundreds of vehicles and pedestrians that passed by, on that forever busy signal of Bangalore, none seemed to be hungry enough. I wandered is this how this man is going to stand there throughout the day, in HOPE. We mint thousands or even lakhs of bucks a month, and these people have to stand there with a handful of corns, 20 bucks per piece (this is the generic rate throughout Bangalore)! Diversity, they call it. Ahhh! look this fellow on a luxury bike just stopped and spoke to Bhuttaswamy for what may be a duration of 40 seconds. And, without buying, he drove away. Probably, he found the corn expensive!

On my side of the road sat another middle aged lady, let's call her BEGAni. Her hands carried an infant, malnutritioned indeed. My sight reflected her to be a beggar, possibly! The busy road and the travelers didn't pay heed to her either. One in 50 shelled out a coin or two for her, only when the signal was red.

The next day, I was coming back from an ATM with my colleagues and was walking by the road side, rather the part which the vehicles had left for pedestrians. This young girl, nearly 12 years of age was selling pens, 2 for 20 rupees, each of which was 1 feet in length. Let's name her PENwari. On seeing us coming, she gestured her hands in the direction of her mouth expressing she is hungry. The pens were cheap, but her hunger wasn't! I bought a pen from her. Penwari's merchandise later lied lazily somewhere at my desk. Nevertheless, it might have mattered to Penwari apparently.

A few metres walk on the same road, and there appeared another girl of similar age. Let's call her MAANGshri. She, literally was chasing folks on the road to transfer some money from their wallets to her palms so that she can be devoid of hunger. Those folks were shooing her away, trying every possible motion to get rid of her. Painful was the scene. Not because they didn't give her any money, but because Maangshri was begging. She seemed to be a healthy and normal human, no deformities at all. What is it that made her to beg! This planet has a lot of blue collar jobs, and she is employable. 

Unlike Begani and Maangshri who were looking for shortcuts to earn, Bhuttaswamy and Penwari are the ones who are doing something to earn their living. People will keep begging until we give away alms to them.

I have a habit of carrying a few packets of Parle-G in my bag. Whenever I see someone begging on the traffic signal, I hand them a packet rather than giving money. They do not have bank acccounts to stash money, but a hungry tummy. I cannot feed them forever, but am rest assured that the child on the signal doesn't have to stay hungry at least this time.

(Disclaimer: This post does not intend to harm, defame, or hurt the sentiments of any person, gender, religion, political party, news channel, religious belief, god or to whomsoever it may concern. I sincerely apologize in advance if it is so.)

Read more

A Poetic Endeavor : Seasons of Heart

Fading sunshine and waning moon,

Subtle is the warmth of winter bloom,

O night! Thee fade slowly.

Heart shells the pain out,

Tear drops like rain seldom ever end,

Wait, for the bliss is calling!

Spring comes calling dear Darling,

Happiness blooms along and the fragrance clinging,

For love we share unending,

A melancholy drop of water,

In arms of thunder is born anew,

Dreaming to green the greener.

Read more

ये नोट कल हो ना हो !

एटीएम की लंबी कतार में लग कर जब खुद ही का कमाया हुआ 2 हज़ार का एक नोट मिलता है तो इतना हर्ष होता है मानों कोई जंग जीत कर आये हो। फिर जब उसी 2 हज़ार के नोट का छुट्टा करवाने के तरीक़े ढूंढने की जुगाड़ में निकलते हैं और अचानक कोई दूकानदार ईश्वर का अवतार बन के इस नोट के बदले सौ के नोट देता है तो ऐसा लगता है मानो सर्वस्व को पा लिया हो। जब हम हमारे पास इकट्ठे चन्द 1000 और 500 के नोट को बैंक में जमा कर आते हैं तो ऐसा सुकून मिलता है मानो लाश को ठिकाने लगा आये हो।

फिर जब टेलीविज़न पर गांधी परिवार के राजकुमार को दिल्ली से मुम्बई जा कर एटीएम की कतार में लगे देखते हैं तो रूह कांप उठती है।

जब मफलर वाले साहब को उनकी योग्यता के प्रतिकूल ट्वीट करते हुए पाते हैं तो समझ नहीं आता की एक तरफ़ा वाद विवाद भी कितना मनोरंजक होता है।

और विदेश यात्रा से लौटे नेताजी को भाषण के दौरान आंसू बहाते देख मन किसी टेलीविज़न सीरियल की बहू की याद दिला देता है।

इसी बीच हर न्यूज़ चैनल पर 8 पासपोर्ट साइज़ के चहरे और एक थोड़ा बड़ा साइज के न्यूज़ रीडर का आपस में संवाद और अपनी मति का प्रदर्शन करते देख हम हास्य और रहस्य की मजधार में खुद को झूलता हुआ पाते हैं।

ईश्वर की अनुकंपा से व्हात्सप्प और फेसबुक पर हो रहे सुचना एवं प्रसार की अतिशयोक्ति में हम निरंतर मुस्तैद रहते हैं।

किसी गरीब को अस्पताल में नोटों के अभाव में तरसते देखा और एक दुल्हन के पिता को बारात को चाय पिला कर लौटाते देखा, तो मन आहात हुआ यह सोच कर की आखिर इसका ज़िम्मेदार कौन है और शिकार कौन।

खैर ये सब छोड़ें साहब, हम तो चले एटीएम। क्या पता ये नोट कल हो ना हो !

(Disclaimer: This post does not intend to harm, defame, or hurt the sentiments of any person, gender, religion, political party, news channel, religious belief, god or to whomsoever it may concern. I sincerely apologize in advance if it is so. I wrote this to present the whole picture from my perspective and to encourage constructive thought process for a better and progressive nation. The views are based on my limited knowledge of the ongoing situations and are only for fun)

Read more

Book Review: The Calling

This is a book authored by Priya Kumar, an internationally acclaimed author and a motivational speaker. I am thankful to Priya Kumar's team for sending me a review copy.

This book is about Arjun who has a wrecked personal and professional life. While he is on the verge of getting divorced, Arjun took a trip to the Himalayas to reach Hemkund Sahib pilgrimage on insistence of a sadhu. That is when he had a fantasized journey leading him to find his true calling, and hence, a respite from the ruined relationship.

The book reminds me of The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari by Robin Sharma, which was also based on the theme of self-actualization during a trip to Himalayas. With distinct way of story telling and conveying the message in an unusual style, Priya Kumar uses her imagination in an amazing manner to pen down the plot.

It consists of light hearted spirituality, a whole lot of contemporary world's life lessons and a pinch of comedy. Its an unconventional style of sharing the message of finding one's calling. Flawlessly narrated, never before heard kind of plot, carved out of marvelous imagination is what the author does with this 160 pager book!

However, a couple of things could have been different. One of them is, at places, certain points are elongated which could have otherwise been crisp and short. Secondly, the happy ending only comprises of the change that Arjun's personal life undergoes, but nothing on the professional front.

My rating for this book is 3.5 on 5.

(PS: the reviews expressed here are based on my personal reading experience, and do not intend to defame, derate or 

degrade the sale or vice-versa for the book. I am not paid for writing this review.)

If you are an author and want your book to be reviewed, drop an email at bookreviews@mansiladha.com.

Read more

तो फिर तू क्यूँ उदास है

तू सशक्त है समर्थ है, तो फिर तू क्यूँ उदास है,

तू गिर ज़रा संभल ज़रा, क्यूँ हो रहा हताश है,

तू रक्त है विरक्त है, तुझी से वक़्त की आस है,

तू जलज है समुद्र तू, बुझा दे जो भी प्यास है,

जो समझे ना तेरी कदर, छेड़ दे तू इक ग़दर,

ये विश्व तेरा सर्वस्व है, अकेला तू फिरे किधर,

पाषाण जो हो राह में, ना पथ पृथक तू करना ,

आँधियों की गति से डर के, ना तू चाह छोड़ना,

हो दूर ग़र अरुण किरण, उसकी राह तू ताकना,

जो तन से तू थके अग़र, ना मन से कभी तू हारना ।

Read more