Author: manuscrypts

  • No God in Sight

    Altaf Tyrewala

    Somewhere in between a relay race and ‘six degrees of separation’ lies the narrative style of this excellent novel. And just like the city it showcases, it sets a scorching pace. But its not just a microcosm of the city, its also a take on social issues – from religion to class differences to a clash of the old and new. And somewhere in between is a subtext of man’s search for where he came from and where he is going, and the series of connected lives and the sheer weariness that prevents them from being able to think beyond their immediate existence, somehow points towards the title – ‘no god in sight’.

    From the millions that make up the phenomenon that’s Bombay, and gives it a ‘spirit’, the author manages to create a few characters that give us a glimpse of the individual lives. He begins with a seemingly nonchalant treatment of what might be considered a moral issue – abortion, and thus captures the pulse of a city and the thought process and credo of a new generation. But amazingly, there is a universal nature to it too, and more often than not, the author manages to walk this line with balance, despite the majority of characters being Muslim. Featuring the famous local trains, the cop who expounds the logic of his sense of justice, the men who share a name with a terrorist, the book is quintessentially Mumbai, and yet, from another perspective, they’re just human stories. If we juxtapose the allusions to ‘my mumbai’ and ‘your mumbai’ in the corporate executive’s story and the ‘to be comfortable with discomfort, one must banish all contact with ease’ in the butcher’s story, we see two sets of people figuring out their own ways to cope with what the city and life throws at them. Sometimes, they can’t, and all they want to do is escape, like Amin Bhai.

    In just about 170 pages, Altaf Tyrewala creates not just the characters who make Mumbai, but even manages to represent, even if its just through a few examples, how they got there. Can’t even complain about the lack of character development because the snapshots almostd efine the characters. Another great rendition of Mumbai, and a must read!

  • Mythistory

    Centuries apart, but both in The Wonder Eras and Irascible, I had written about the documentation of incidents that we now call mythology and history. (respectively) In the former, I had mentioned the feeling when I saw the place where Sita had been temporarily imprisoned in Lanka, and in the latter, a fictionalised version of an event that happened in 1919. Both a bit intangible – the first only because of the centuries that have passed and it was still difficult to believe that myth was just history but more ancient, and the second because I am not sure if it actually happened.

    Sometime back, I read William Dalrymple’s ‘The Last Mughal’, that uses Bahadur Shah Zafar as a ‘device’ to write about the events of 1857. The book is based on actual documents. As I wrote in my review (will share soon) what remains with me long after I have read the book, and something I went back to, almost every time I picked up the book to continue, is the photo of Zafar, lying with his face to the camera – the face of a broken old man who through his life saw the dominion of his ancestors taken away from him until all he had was his city and an empty title, who had just been made to undergo a trial and many humiliations before it, eyes expressing melancholy, and resigned to his destiny.

    Suddenly, the images that I remember from history textbooks were transformed into a real person, and history was somehow tangible, as was his plight. It was almost as though that if I could take a few steps more, I could somehow feel the same about our myths.  Have you ever felt that when reading/seeing anything?

    Perhaps it is that way in every age, when some things that were history move into legend and then on to a myth status. I am still debating in my mind whether the layering that happens, adds or subtracts.

    until next time, history repeats?

  • TOIT

    Finally, we used the same tactic at TOIT as The Biere Club – Sunday lunch, much more easy to accomplish than the 2 seater Saturday dinner. For those not in the know about TOIT, this should tell you the story so far, as well as help you get there. Though I’d been here before on a couple of occasions, D was a first timer. They have a valet parking and for two wheelers, there’s the pavement, though it’s not always easy!

    The microbrewery has 3 floors, and we sat in the non smoking section on the 3rd floor. The smoking section has a great view of the Metro, though you need to be a large group to get a table there. At lunch hour on Sunday, it’s quite a peaceful place, but the buzz during evenings is quite something! Over to the food and booze. You can take a look at the menu here. In addition to this, there are the different kinds of house beer too.

    I wanted the Weiss, but that was not available, so I ordered the Dark Knight. D asked for the Basmati Blonde. The Dark Knight was not as bitter as I expected, though this does change towards the bottom. The Basmati Blonde is quite light, with just a faint malt touch. This is usually the one I have, and I only tried the other to test it out. 🙂 I would’ve liked the beer colder though. [I happened to try the Weiss on a later visit, and now I don’t mind cheating on the blonde) 🙂

     

    We ordered a TOIT Sunavachik for starters, strips of chicken with a dip and which can be made mild, spicy or very spicy as per your choice. We asked for very spicy, but it really wasn’t all that spicy. The dip complemented it well and it made for a good combo with the beer too. [Again, during another visit, we ordered ‘spicy’, and boy it was!] I think the menu has changed a bit though, since I couldn’t find the special TOIT pork dish I was looking for and the dish we had ordered was not something that was in the menu earlier. Hmm.

    For the main course, we ordered a Cream Cheese Chicken pizza – a thin crust pizza with marinated chicken and buckets of cheese. I would have liked it to be a bit more spicy – even the chili flakes on the table didn’t help. Despite being reasonably ‘toit’, we asked for the TOIT special dessert – a layered chocolate cake, which I didn’t feel was flambeed though. But it’s chocolate, and there was lots of it, so I really can’t complain. 🙂

      

    All of the above cost us just over Rs.1450 including service tax and charges. TOIT is a place I haven’t heard a negative opinion about, and the packed atmosphere, even on weekday nights, is a testament to its popularity. Yep, it means you must visit. 🙂

    TOIT, 298, 100 feet Road, Metro Pillar 62, Indiranagar

  • ‘Algebra’ & Twitter

    My favourite story in Paul Theroux’ ‘The Collected Stories’ is Algebra, a simplistic tale of a clerk easing his way into London’s literary crowd through one chance meeting and several arranged ones thence.

    Friendship is like algebra, but there are operations most people are too impatient or selfish to perform. Any number is possible!…. But one can be unselfish…. in giving everything and expecting nothing but agreeable company. ‘Giving everything’, I say, but so little is actually required – a good-natured remark, a little flattery, a drink.

    Last week, I completed 5 years on Twitter, and while I haven’t broken into literary circles nor started drinking, I have made friends. In the self conscious, real time and usually selfish world of twitter, where snap judgments are the order of the day, it is not easy to give at all, let alone expect much in return. And yet, many a time, I have been at the receiving end of acts of kindness. On most of these occasions, they are unaware of what they’ve done and the difference they have made. I’d like to think that I have passed it on. But meanwhile, they reside in my favourite list on twitter.

    until next time, follow through 🙂

  • The Servants of Twilight

    Dean Koontz

    Refreshing to see a ‘Twilight’ book without teen vampires. But though its not a damsel, a woman in distress is one of the main characters, this time with a child, who is the cause of all the trouble. The Twilight cult, led by Mother Grace, believes that single mother Christine Scavello’s son Joey is the Anti Christ.

    A relatively harmless parking lot incident turns into a full blown chase, with Christine trying to protect her son from the cult. She is helped by Charlie Harrison, a detective, who quite predictably falls in love with Christine. Most of the book is an elaborate and vividly described chase sequence, which I found quite boring after a while.

    I’m quite a fan of the author’s later works, when he explores new concepts and then weaves in a thriller narrative. But this was quite a Terminator meets religion style mash-up, which failed to engage me after a point. I kept waiting for the Koontz touch, which, though promised to appear towards the end, turned out to be just a mirage.

    Quite an avoidable book, especially since there are many other works from the same author like False Memory or From the Corner of his Eye, to name a few.