Author: manuscrypts

  • Marathon Baba

    Disclosure: Fingerprint! Publishing sent me the book for review.

    Girish Kohli hasn’t passed out of the IITs or IIMs, does not have a day job and cannot be found on Facebook or Twitter. He is also the author of the only book in the world based on a pair of unused running shoes. Just as the author has broken the template of the typical Indian author, his book also manages to be completely out of the regular trajectory of Indian fiction.

    There are indeed characters that one might encounter in other works, in fact, the author has pretty much used all the stereotypes that have been abused in Indian popular culture – the strict dad, the mother waiting for her son to return home, the first love who remains evergreen in memories, the corrupt cop, the spirituality cult, and so on, but it’s the sheer verve and trippy narration that makes this book totally unique. It even includes poetry, or at least rhyme.

    The tale puts a twist to the perspective people have towards running away from problems. The story is about a man who runs across the country for seven years, turns red (no, literally), starts an ashram and gets stuck in a plot (literally and figuratively) of his own making. The author takes routine mundane occurrences and objects and converts them into surreal text or throws them against bizarre yet believable props. (the shoes, the Naxalite kidnapping) The humour that lends sanity and insanity to the proceedings is also not on a single track – it moves from wordplay to satire (the City of Slums, Suryakant the Mega Star) to even campy on a couple of occasions. In fact the entire theme of the book seems to be irreverence. Just as you begin to wonder if you’re going to completely lose it, the author injects a dose of real explanation to the happenings. IMO, the best part of the book are the character descriptions. Characters include the shoes too.

    My advice would be to read the book at a single go. At 255 pages, it’s not really a marathon, but you have to keep running to be on the same page as the author. There is always a feeling that some subtext is slyly watching you turn the page. Not a run of the mill offering, this one will give your brains a run for their money. 😉

  • Curry Meen

    Curry Meen has been on our radar for quite a while, but considering that we live in Keramangala, with multiple Mallu food options, we had been ignoring it. Thanks to a sale at Bangalore Central and my excitement towards checking out the Bangalore Metro, we zoomed in on Curry Meen, which is close to the Indiranagar Metro stop. The restaurant is located on the Double Road between CMH Road and BDA complex, Indiranagar. A not-so-accurate map here. It’s actually after that 5th Main junction when going from CMH Road.

    Parking wouldn’t be very difficult. There’s space inside the compound, as well as options on the road outside. We saw an inactive Dosa Counter downstairs and some minimal seating on the ground floor, and proceeded to the first floor, which offered a decent view of the relatively uncrowded Double Road. On the way back, we also noticed that they had another room upstairs, where seating was available, but whose lights were switched off. 🙂 They’d probably open it only if required.

    The menu can be found here, and is a bit of a Malabar-Chinese collaboration. We were here for the Kerala food, so we focused solely on that. The Mussels were not available, so we marked our protest by ordering a Hot & Sour Chicken soup and then started the actual meal with a Jinsi Chicken Kebab (half) and a Malabar Fish Fry. The soup was a homage to the pepper trade from Malabar, and our eyes watered at this historical hat tip, and for other reasons. The Jinsi Chicken was an attempt at Pakodas, it seemed, and a failed one at that. Avoid! The (seer) fish was quite good with a spicy masala coating.

    For the main course, we asked for a plate of appam, a Malabar Paratha, a Fish Moilee and a Kozhi (chicken) curry. I’ve tasted several poor versions of the Fish Moilee, but this one was an outright disaster. The appams didn’t help either. The chicken curry was thankfully quite tasty, spicy and seemed like a relative of the varutharacha curry, but without the coconut. Figure that. The Chicken Biriyani was served with an egg (extra points for that) and was reasonably good.

    The staff didn’t seem to be from Kerala, but that didn’t hamper the experience much. They were quite prompt. All of the above cost us just over Rs.850. I think I’ll stick to our Koramangala favourites.

    CurryMeen, No:218, Double Road, 1st Stage, Indiranagar,  Ph:42283999

  • Now Running

    Already running late, and three minutes into the ride, she realised she had forgotten her purse…and the tickets in it. Cursing, he paid the auto driver, asked her to wait, and started running. Easier than getting the auto to go back. As he ran, the coincidence was unmistakeable. The tickets were for Paan Singh Tomar.

    (Based on a true story. No really!)

  • Once Upon a Timezone

    Neelesh Misra

    Bollywood style romance with a Hollywood heroine, that’s probably how I’d describe the book, not just because of the story and the characters, who seem perfect for a movie version, but also because of the pace of the book and the turns within.

    Neel Pandey, obsessed with America, but whose visa application gets rejected, settles for a vicarious experience – at a call centre, where he gets transformed into Neil Patterson, and falls in love with a customer, in far away America, even as his father tries to get him married to a girl of the right caste, and his mother, whose own dreams have been stifled thanks to her husband, looks on helplessly.

    Angela Cruz, fresh out of college and building a new life as a journalist, away from her race-obsessed father, is smitten by Neil Patterson, thanks to a phone call she makes to fix her computer. She is led to believe that he’s American, while she herself cooks up a story of her being a model.

    Their turbulent love life is what makes up the remainder of the book. In addition to the parents, there are also a couple of characters who play important roles – Neel’s friend Meenal, whom his dad wants him to marry, and Rocky Randhawa, a con artist who runs a business of supplying fake visas.

    The story itself is quite predictable, but is breezy enough to make for a non-boring read. The author does have a sense of humour, though cliches have been employed at regular intervals, mostly as devices to portray a stereotypical Indian middle class family. In essence, reading it won’t do you any irreparable damage.

  • Why knots

    I was watching Priyadarshan speak at an award ceremony (on TV) about his new Malayalam movie starring Mohanlal and Mukesh. This ‘combination’ was hitting the silverscreen after a span of 10 years, and thanks to their history (early history I’d say) it was a special occasion. I had planned to catch the movie in the theatre but after reading (and listening to) the reviews, gave up the thought.

    On another channel, Mukesh was claiming that though Priyadarshan kept saying he would not do a comedy again during the shooting, its ‘acceptance by the masses’ would make him rethink. (Oh noes) But there was one interesting thing he said – that when one discovered one’s purpose in life (Priyan and film making) he/she feels constantly compelled to keep at it.

    D and I discussed whether Priyadarshan (and Mohanlal), who by now have their coterie, can be objective about their films. The box office collections, which is probably as objective as it gets, would be high anyway thanks to fan clubs across the state. There would be bouquets and brickbats anyway too. How can one be objective about those? In our own cases, how many of us can actually objectively take what’s usually called ‘constructive criticism’ for presentations/concepts/ideas? Or even praise for that matter? Now scale that to an effort that costs crores and months and imagine.

    But if one thinks of it in a simple questions framework, (for now, I’m ignoring when and where) once the purpose or objective (why) has been determined, the what and how is determined by asking who is it for. And if the answer to ‘who’ happens to be the self, then everything else is probably superfluous -dependencies, costs, and even feedback. It stops being the creator’s problem, and becomes the consumer’s. However, when there is no clarity on the purpose, the superfluous becomes the driver. And that’s the trap most of us are probably in.

    until next time, trappings 🙂