#WhatIRead – Pyjamas Are Forgiving

So, I just finished Twinkle Khanna’s third book.

I knew when I sat on the bus this morning that I’d treat this read as I do with chewing gums, and that’s pretty much what transpired. Two hours, one bus, and two cups of chai later, here I am, spilling the beans.

A breezy book with a relaxed pace that has little content to put you in a reminiscent mood, Pyjamas are Forgiving caters to a niche readership group which makes the book less enjoyable to others.
The writing is peppered with poignant thoughts about relationships, and you’ll cherish reading about the little nothings that you cannot brush off between couples. The inclusion of funny Punjabi aunties, the weird procedures at the Ayurvedic facility will have you in guffaws at some scenes, but the book mainly dives into the relationship between an estranged couple, who definitely haven’t moved on from their toxic past.

I love how Khanna makes it so easy to digest things. Perhaps, it also helps that you’re reading about so much the Vatta, Pitta, Kapha of Ayurvedic treatments and funny smelling medicines that it makes it easy to down this as a shot itself!

Although there’s so much going on in these pages, it still feels fairly insouciant.

My mom read about three pages and brushed the book aside – and told me its trash. Perhaps it’s one of those rare times that we actually agree on something.

Moral of the story: Pyjamas may be forgiving, but I swear I’ll pick my videsi jeans any day, every day!

Happy morning, you all and wish you a Terrific Tuesday!

 

What I Regret Reading – After By Anna Todd

I’ve mentioned my fabulous app – the one for free, easy-to-read phone ebook app, haven’t I? So when I looked for something new, I was suggested Anna Todd’s ‘After’.

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I generally do not like reading the blurb-y synopsis behind novels, so I dived straight through. What can I say? It was the most wasteful 7 hours of my day, ever! I kept the pages turning because it wasn’t so hard on the eyes, but I think a few grey cells really died among those pages.

When I had to describe this book to my friend I called it a ‘Crossover between Twilight without the vampires, and Fifty shades minus the BDSM’.

Where do I start with what was wrong with this book? I may just have to alter the question to – What was even right in this tragic waste of words?!

Let me still give it a shot while I have some sanity left, eh?

The underlying theme is obviously one of a cliché – The good girl with everything working for her including good grades, a scholarship college admission, and a boy friend, who meets tattooed and pierced quintessential bad boy, and immediately they have the hots for each other though that is disguised as – yes, you guessed it hatred – an evident dislike for each other, which intensifies to sexual attraction in the most weird ways.

I don’t know how dumb the author must be and how stupid the readers for this book to have a series in itself! Besides the cesspit of toxicity that is immature attempts at relationships, underage drinking at frat houses, snobbish kids playing truth and dare, and ****ing around with every person in sight simply because you can , there really isn’t much else

Let’s just get into a few instances of melodrama. What say?

  • The kid with straight A-s joins a college which is about 3 hours from home, and of course, she needs to have a controlling Mom who insists on staying away from her daughter’s tattooed, goth-like roommate. Now I for one understand that that’s how Moms react. When I first met my Guitar Bud who went on to become among my favorite people on this planet, I could see the chagrin on my Mom’s face. Which tattooed guy has ever impressed mothers!? But our lovely lady here not only blows her mother’s concern off every instance but literally breaks ties with her to live with our cranky teenage throb who has serious need rehab level of issues.
  • Our Protagonist initially does not want to go to parties or drink alcohol. Cause good girls don’t do that! Needless to say, she does precisely that! Not once, twice, or thrice, but holy mother of God – every single time, even when she’s not invited !! And of course – she gets drunk, does the whole damsel in distress act and she’s rescued by Mr. Darcy himself – clearly no points for guessing!
  • Every story needs a friend zoned best friend – so we have the best boy to fit this typecast role, and of course, he happens to be the stepbrother of our (anti)hero. 
  • You have your usual sparks flying, can’t keep my hands to myself act, and have to keep making out in the most random places. Yes, we get it. But to show just how volatile this relationship is, the pair keeps having combustible arguments every 7th page – not kidding. (Okay, maintaining track on ebook pages is slightly tricky, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true!)
  • They are so horribly wrong for each other – they can see it. But it’s just misguided loyalties, hormonal imbalance, and sheer dumbness that have them coming at each other.
  • If you’re reading this book, or even glancing at it, which I took to doing when I realized it was too much crap, you can’t help but realize the value of good old Mills & Boons, Danielle Steele or Sandra Brown – Dear god, how could you ever despise these women! At least they had a tale to tell, and not fill pages with incoherent random words as fillers while the protagonists are actually doing is grind against each other.
  • The author’s language is just cringeworthy. Period.
  • And did I mention the name of this confused, ridiculous specimen of a boy? Hardin! Yeah, exactly. What’s a better name for a novel that’s just high on sex, and nothing but sex! It’s clear the author isn’t fooling anyone. It’s a trashy read through and through and will have you pulling your hair on frustration or make you want to slap the characters terribly. 

After enduring everything, your heart may actually collapse when you get to know this tragedy is only the first in the five-part book series of After!

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. HOW!?

INDEED, SOME GOODBYES ARE THE SWEETEST!

#WhatIRead: Memoirs of a Geisha

Memoirs of a Geisha is an unforgettable read that transports you to Japanese life during the second World War and offers a glimpse into the enigma that are the Geisha

Hello Folks!

If you’re a loyal reader, I wish you a hearty morning and hope your soul feels nourished like never before!

If you’ve come to this page for the first time, I certainly hope I’m interesting enough for you to keep returning! What can I say, one man’s catharsis can be another man’s entertainment? At least that’s what’s been driving me all these posts!

Today’s section of #WhatIRead focuses on Memoirs of a Geisha. This book was on my list for the longest time but I’d never gotten around reading it because all the paperbacks I found had really tiny font and you know how annoying it is… There’s two things I can’t stand in a book, tiny illegible font and those horrible pirated copies, which seem like fake paper. I’m not as staunchly against piracy though because I believe ebooks have revolutionised the game and fortunately, a lot of then are available for free! If you want to know where I do my free ebook reading, feel free to drop a msg. Always glad to have another member in the reading club 🙂

Memoirs of a Geisha had me stumped! I expected it to be a drab retelling of what the Geisha are given that it’s been penned by a man, Arthur Golden. (No bias against men writers but I just didn’t think they’d do so much justice to a female protagonist’s voice). I wasn’t prepared for a disturbing and thought provoking marathon that this book offers.

It started off splendidly – the deprecated and desolate tipsy hut overlooking a cliff, a tiny pond, Chiyo San’s overtly optimistic thoughts and her description of her parents… There was so much innocence there and then the story became progressively darker…

I won’t mince my words.. The journey takes you from curiosity, to disgust to desolation, and finally leaves you feeling sympathetic and helpless… And you’ll be hooked to it as a moth takes to flame… A definite page turner!

In the middle of the narrative, I got so involved that I had to know more.. Was it a real story? Who are these women? Are their lives really as intriguing as its been painted, or is it much worse!? I looked up tonnes of information and came to the conclusion that the fiction must be based on a majority of real life events and happenings, although the former Geisha who was interviewed declined a lot of things and even went on to sue the author. (Here’s a link if you’re curious about the lady in question: Mineko Iwasakiwhose life forms a large part of this book)

Did I mention that on the days when my eyes were too strained to read (given that work involves a whole lot of laptop screen staring), I found a YouTube play list of a fan curated audio book. That served the purpose too, and I absolutely adored the orator’s voice.

Without further ado, get on your reading glasses and dig into this soul stirring narrative!

Happy reading guys.

🙂

The Class

I just finished with Erich Segal’s award winnings and popular book – The Class. As with any of Segal’s works, I expected there to be situational conflicts with the protagonist and yet a whole lot of TLC. I wasn’t disappointed but I must say, I expected more.

After having read only 2 other books by Segal, I must admit that what he does is rather smart. There’s not 1 but 5 whole protagonists who share page space in this novel, and once you wait for your readers to be invested in each one’s story, that’s a brilliant way to keep the pages turning!

However, Segal’s characters fail to connect with you emotionally unlike in Doctors. Here, you just passively read the exploits of the different (un) heroes and exalt at their victories or admonish them for infidelities.

Read ‘The Class’ if you want to know more about life behind the wrought iron gates of Harvard.

One of the best lines came about during the end when Segal talks about how all the boys of batch 1954 entered Harvard as rivals and now, for their 25th class reunion, there’s a solidarity that transcends trivial emotions like enmity – Indeed life doesn’t spare even the supposedly most successful ones from its throes.

So long, Happy Reading!

Lonely Tunes

My bestie recently asked me what was the one thing that I absolutely hated about my life in Riyadh, for I lived there while growing up for ten odd years. For a while, this question took me by surprise…people always assumed that I loved it out there and ended up asking me what I missed about that desert city.

I took a moment to think while fleeting images went past me – a sea of people in black and white (literally, for Saudi men wear a white, free flowing white gown-like attire and women wear Abhayas – the black cloth that bundles them up, covering them completely.

I thought about being away from my grandparents and missing them.

I thought about Riyadh’s oppressive heat, and the boring school life I was subject to… And then it hit me hard.

‘Loneliness’, I replied.

Not having friends of my age in the society I lived in, being at a mentally stimulating age and not having someone to share conversations or games with, not being very rich so as to afford novels and books often, it tore me apart, little by little.

It’s not like I didn’t have friends – school was great when we had lunch hour or free period. But once the clock struck 1.30, that was goodbye to your friends, unless you wanted to chit chat over long calls (which again wasn’t very welcomed by the folks).

I had a few Kannadiga friends that I looked forward to meeting, but that was usually once or twice a month and fun while it lasted.

On a daily basis, I whiled away time with imaginary characters, played stupid and cute games with my baby brother, and kept wishing for some adventure. I was introduced to comics a little late, for I consider 3rd grade pretty late. I took to reading Tinkle comics, Champak I used to loathe, but reading anything felt like a good time pass.. I graduated to Archies, and thanks to my then best friend’s mother, who worked in our school, we got permission to borrow some books on a weekly basis. And then we ended up taking Noddy. What can I say, I missed the whole concept of libraries like hell.

Then I graduated to reading Women’s Era magazines because they would inevitably be at home and I just needed to read something, anything! To be honest, I read quite a few controversial things that made for a good laugh but loneliness – you can’t put a name or describe the feeling… these things persist.

I thought things would be great upon leaving Saudi, and returning to India… That I’d be able to meet and host friends who are quite like me and whose ideas would entice and encourage us to be great. Unfortunately for me, no such thing happened. Reality was that, I was seen as more of an outcast because of my earlier background and I didn’t belong to their groups…

It’s hard being lonely and it’s enough to push you into depression. I know that now but then, I tried to desperately fit in, dumb down, act bitchy and mean to be accepted, found one friend, who happened to be a guy, and you can imagine how that would turn out for a teen?

Ugh. Life sucked. In the end, I cared a damn and gave up on everyone that I was trying to befriend. I cut them out of my life the moment school ended and haven’t regretted my decision since.

I grew friends after that.. When I stopped trying, and I just was. I’m an introvert, so I still have a small circle but that’s completely fine with me. I do wish sometime that I’d be more outgoing and befriend more people.. I talk and meet people, but I think genuine connection is so rare.

But I cannot be more grateful to the people who are in my life.. I’m really happy to have friends who are smart, motivated, dedicated and wholly good people with a good heart. We question our friendship sometimes and then I realise, despite everything that that are, they’re mine.

That’s really all you sometimes need.

Cheers!

#ThirtyTrinkets Day 11

I’m finally home after a short hiatus at college. I wanted to write this post the night I was traveling, but lethargy.

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This pair of small cute, black studs was gifted to my by me ex. No, not that kinda ex.  My! Your imagination runs. Alright, it was a gift from Priyanka who was my roomie for year one of college. She’s this bubble of energy who can charm even the most reserved people. I couldn’t even believe that she had a science background in her graduation because she’s just the perfect journalist that I’d always pictured in my head. And we’ve parted Ways on the room front to accommodate other people, but we’re always bumbling into each other in the corridors or rooms.

I was trying to read The Alchemist but I could progress much as I had the night bus and I was travelling with a friend. There’s something very comforting about travel that it relaxed you and opens you to a whole lot of thoughts that you wouldn’t normally have if you were sitting in your bed and wondering what to do.
Anyway, this time, on reaching Bangalore, I took the local Bmtc bus instead of a plush cab. It was pleasant weather and the ride, although an hour in itself, was relatively peaceful. Not many people know I’m in the city, it was such a hasty decision after all.

More on Bangalore Times, later. Adios for now!