Category: Books

  • This Time Of Morning

    Nayantara Sahgal 

    The books set in the era after independence (that I have read) have mostly dealt with partition and its aftermath. This one is different because it is set in a later period, but one that captures the challenges before a nation and its people. People who have had to change from being freedom fighters to bureaucrats, politicians and ordinary, but free citizens who all have to play a part in nation building. People who know they’re being watched by others across the world as they set about laying the foundations of a country.

    As a member of India’s first family in politics, Nayantara Sahgal is very well suited to write this tale. The anecdotes on Gandhi, the notes on Nehru’s room, all add to the authenticity of the narratives. Though we begin to see India through the eyes of Rakesh, a foreign service officer who returns to the country after six years, a long list of characters soon appear – bureaucrats, politicians, and their families, all of whom have to cope with the changing landscape.

    The book offers a view of the early stages of corruption that’s now an epidemic in India – when industry meets bureaucracy and politics, and a new generation of politicians, who have had little role in the freedom struggle, suddenly get their taste of power. An older set is forced to watch vested interests take precedence over morality and integrity. Power struggles and manipulations among them are interspersed with cultural clashes between generations and outlooks, providing a wholesome snapshot of an era.

    With so many unique characters, whom the author uses to provide perspectives on various facets of life and mindsets in that period, I did feel that a longer story was needed to do justice. The narrative of a few characters seemed to have been cut short purely for some kind of closure before the book ended, and the hasty conclusions sometimes worked against the hard work done thus far. But yet, it is quite a good read, especially because it is set in an era which is rarely talked about, or understood.

  • Six Suspects

    Vikas Swarup

    The second novel by Vikas Swarup, after Q&A, the book that now has a life of its own. Six Suspects worked essentially as a superb suspense thriller for me, but it is also a commentary on everything that happens in India – from militancy and racism to reality TV and call centres. Through six of the most stereotyped characters that you could ever find (okay, five), the author manages not only to create a gripping tale that shakes up the mix every time you think you have cracked the mystery in your head, but also manages to share a perspective on many of the things that makes news and even the probable behind-the-scenes machinations. All delivered not in a preachy tone that one would expect when such topics are involved, but the most amazing wit and sense of humour I have read in recent times.

    Right from the time the author shares a brief history of Vicky Rai, the ‘victim’, and in three paragraphs narrates the deeds that brought India’s sense of justice into the spotlight, I was hooked. He then proceeds to set up the suspects – the bureaucrat who is yet to get over his loss of power, the actress who tries hard to maintain her image and reputation and not mention Nietzsche in conversations, the tribal who seemed to be the only non-stereotype and displays a sense of deep rooted compassion and understanding that humanity seems to have lost, the mobile thief who lives out the Bollywood cliche, the politician who will go to any lengths for power, and the American, whose tale – right from his name, Larry Page – is such a bizarre laugh riot that it deserves a sequel!

    The story lines develop independently, but with clear connections that add to the intrigue. The politician’s spiritual advisor, the actress’ man Friday, the underworld’s ransom kidnaps, the honest cop, the Bhopal gas tragedy and its victims, Pakistani militants, naked sadhus in Prayag, and even the Indian American university grad, all cliches that add volumes to the narrative. But the real craft and genius is in how the stories and backstories are connected, and all the details are tallied. From the motive to the execution, every character, primary and secondary, and his/her action is accounted for, all while making us believe, for instance, that Gandhi’s spirit has entered a corrupt official!

    After all of this, the author takes us through the night itself and just as I thought that the climax itself was an anti, it turned out to be the setup for a riveting series of events that provides a deserving end to a fantastically written work of fiction. Must read.

  • Revolution 2020: Love, Corruption, Ambition

    Chetan Bhagat 

    As usual, Chetan Bhagat sucks the reader into the story from the first page. The narrator speaking to CB has become quite the signature prologue now, though he played it slightly differently in the last book.

    The overall concept of the book reminded me of several books/movies, and the one that came specifically to mind when I read the ‘summary’ on the jacket was Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi. That actually made me think of the author’s themes across his books. For me, the first three were unique because the story itself was new. (though FPS could be seen as a rendition of “poor hero – rich heroine – evil father” set in an IIT. But there was something refreshing enough in it for it to spawn a cottage industry) The last book seemed to be inspired by the author’s own life (it’s probably marketing) and to me, seemed like a nadir in the author’s imagination and storytelling capability. This one is a clawing back, and though the theme itself is jaded, CB manages to bring life into it with the storytelling. At least, it didn’t annoy me like 2 States.

    Gopal Mishra is a protagonist who you can easily root for, even as his ‘grey shades’ continue to darken as the book progresses. Despite being quite stereotypical, it’s probably this that holds the book together, as all the other characters are quite cardboard. The climax itself is quite predictable, especially if you’ve watched a typical love triangle in 80s/90s Bollywood. But the pace is relentless, and despite the predictability, the narrative was reasonably interesting to hold my attention.

    The mentions of CCD in every tenth page made me wonder if this is part of the author’s ‘special friend’ deal with the coffee chain. And that also made me wonder about the Taj and Ramada hotels as well. But hey, the book costs all of Rs.140 (maybe a hat tip to Twitter), I think that makes it all fair, even if the conjecture is true.

  • Caesar’s Women (Masters of Rome, #4)

    Colleen McCullough

    The fourth in the ‘Masters of Rome’ series, covering 10 years from 68-58 BC, chronicling the rise of Gaius Julius Caesar, with most of the narrative set in Rome itself. Despite being part of the book’s name, the first half of the book does not really focus on Caesar himself. Much of it is spent on building up the rest of the cast who would play an important role in Caesar’s life during this period – from his allies like Pompey the Great and Marcus Crassus to enemies like Cato and Bibulus, and even those who, in modern terminology could be called frenemies like Cicero and Clodius. However, the author remains true to the title by delving into the minds and lives of the various women who essay a key role in Caesar’s life – his mother Aurelia, his lover Servilia, his daughter Julia and even the non-influencer – his wife Pompeia, whom he later divorces – though to a minimal extent.

    Cicero, in this book, is shown in poor light, and the author does say in her notes that his peers didn’t think too much of him, as per the documentation available from that era. The other important character who makes an extended appearance is Brutus, originally betrothed to Caesar’s daughter Julia.

    It then follows Caesar’s political career covering his curule aedileship, his election as Pontifex Maximus, governorship of Further Spain and his first consulship. The book also highlights possibly the only chink in Caesar’s otherwise impenetrable armour – an indifference towards money – though he manages to learn his lessons in that respect towards the end of the book.

    The book not only chronicles how Caesar uses various tools, even marriage (his own as well as his daughter’s), to out-manoeuver his enemies and further his rise to prominence, but also manages to give a good idea of how Roman society functioned, in terms of culture, belief systems and hierarchy. It minimally shows Caesar’s military genius but quite elaborately showcases his political and legal brilliance, aided in no small measure by his mother Aurelia, and which culminates in the formation of the triumvirate with Marcus Licinius Crassus and Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus.

    The book sets quite a lively pace though it does require concentration to follow the various alliances that are made and broken at regular intervals. As in the previous books, and probably more so because of the new characters, the large secondary cast is not easy to follow. The final pages of the book point to a change in Caesar after his year as consul and sets the stage for the next book.

  • Once Upon A Time In Aparanta

    Sudeep Chakravarti

    I picked up this book because I liked Sudeep Chakravarti’s earlier work – Tin Fish. In both cases, the author sets up the story in very familiar and much ‘abused’ settings, but manages to give it a completely different and memorable treatment using his unique characters and narrative.

    In this case it is Goa – Aparanta – the Land at the Horizon. The characters are well defined and to some extent even familiar – Winston Almeida the power hungry thug and land-grabber, Fernandes the corrupt cop, Sergei the Russian drug lord, the politicians who abet them so long as they get their stake, Antonio the innkeeper who is concerned more about his marriage and is content to sit on the sidelines as the thug-politician-drug lord nexus pillages Goa, Dino Dantas the crusader who refuses to give up, and so on. Even Princess, a Brazilian transsexual who lends the eccentric touch to the mix, is made to blend in naturally. Small detours in the narrative provide context and colour to the secondary characters – Ida, Anastasia, the Professor etc.

    The reason it works is because like many good books, it adds the place as a character. Goa spills out of the pages – colorful people, unparalleled natural beauty, language which oozes flavours, the colonial hangover, the regular tourists who consider themselves locals, and their temporary versions who consider Goa’s pleasures a temporary answer to all their woes. The other reason is the prose – flexible enough to accommodate descriptions of Goa’s bountiful beauty as well as the satire that makes the brutality bearable.

    I was a bit disappointed with the ending, especially considering the chapters that preceded it. It felt like a compromise, very accommodating, and in stark contrast to the rest of the book which pulled no punches. However, it still remains a must read for anyone who loves Goa and has seen it change over the years. For others, it could be the story of a land and its citizens, the choices they make and the price they pay for ‘development’.