Friends Forever

It is time to say goodbye to some good friends.They initially enveloped me in their warmth, but of late they had begun to irritate me a little. I am getting all hot and bothered with them around. I feel they are intruding into my space. To be honest, I found them to be a little high maintenance. In time, I'd be willing to welcome them again, but now is not that time. I think we could do with a break, a nice long one. And now I want to take up with some old friends, who had gone away. They were in a dark space and I thought it best to let them be. I did miss them terribly, and now they are coming back to me, in ones and twos. Their lightness of being echoes my lightheartedness. Their breezy demeanor cheers me and I see in them a colourful wish to stick to me as the days go by. So goodbye, woollens, and hello cottons!!!

Tiny Terror

Spring is ephemeral everywhere, but nowhere more so than in our Delhi-NCR. All the more to be savoured and enjoyed, therefore. While everyone rhapsodizes about spring blooms and fresh verdant growth, I am paralysed by the first sighting of the humble house lizard. No number of peacock feathers and eggshells can faze this terrifying descendant of the T. Rex. (Pardon my inaccuracy about its lineage). It probably considers the house its own, and embarks on a tour to check if all is as it left it. It sometimes loses its grip—literally—and falls with a stultifying plop in the most inconvenient of places. Once, it landed on my head and those milliseconds must have done more damage to my heart than any amount of chhole bhature, and frozen desserts rich in trans-fats. The morning ritual of pulling aside the curtains and opening the balcony door is now rife with wariness. I unabashedly embrace my inner coward and leave this otherwise-pleasant task to hubby or the help. As for picture frames and paintings, I don’t dare touch them for fear of a sudden darting out of a squiggly, wriggly creature who just might leave its tail behind! No doubt it keeps in check the other creepy crawlies. However, is it too much to ask it to restrict itself to unseen spots? Can we just coexist peacefully please?

Review: Can We Be Strangers Again

HOW MANY TREES DIED FOR THIS BOOK TO SEE LIGHT OF DAY? This month’s book choice was Can We Be Strangers Again by Shrijeet Shandilya. Purportedly a college romance, the book is touted as a national bestseller. From the venerable house of Penguin, at that. For many of us, the title brought to mind the wistful, tender melody, “Chalo ik baar phir se, Ajnabi ban jaayein hum dono”. It indicated a delicate love story, with the promise of new beginnings, or a whimsical wish to relive the joy and excitement of nascent love. Alas, ‘disappointed’ doesn’t begin to cover it. It left us, the readers, frustrated and nonplussed. It was evocative all right, just not the way I expected. It evoked indignation and regret. The story never takes off. The protagonist (aah, the glory days when they were called ‘hero’!) evokes no sympathy whatsoever. He is a whiner; a clueless one at that. The only stars in the book are the ones which bleep out the cuss words (used rather liberally!) The book is set partly in the lockdowns of 2020 and 2021. Nowhere does the author delve into the gravity of that situation. Even as just a backdrop to the story, the pandemic and lockdowns are hardly relevant. The narrative is repetitive in the language used, as well as in the incidents described. There are whole sections of dialogues in Hindi. This can still be condoned as reported speech of the characters; however, in some places the narrator speaks to the reader in Hindi. This feels incongruous. The narrative simply does not move forward. It seems to be just the ramblings of a confused youth in a haze of alcohol and smoke. None of the characters show any growth. After a point the reader may even wish for the characters to turn negative, just to break the tedium. Even that does not happen. Granted, not all stories need to be uplifting; some can elicit even strong negative reactions. However, this one was merely a pallid attempt at a perspective on love and friendship. Evidently the main character is familiar with neither. No book discussion in recent memory on this forum has been so vociferous in condemnation of a book. It was not available in the e-format: imagine the amount of paper wasted. In our discussion, a point was raised about the story not being aimed at our age group. Even so, I am sure we would have loved a well written college romance. Time and again, I have noticed that whatever the age of the reader, s/he identifies with the protagonist or at least another important character in a story, if it is well written. Clearly that was not the case here. Peppered with misplaced metaphors, grammatical errors and typos, the book had me reaching for a red pen, awakening my inner schoolmarm! The dedication at the beginning of the book begs the question: this has to be semi-autobiographical at the very least. No doubt, a writer will write what s/he wishes to, but what were the editors doing? What made an esteemed publishing house bring this book out? And what kind of reading public has made this a national bestseller? That, my friends, is a question for the ages. If I have repeated myself in this review, it may be chalked up to the influence of the book itself. In one word: excruciating!