Dear Mr.Chetan Bhagat

Dear Mr. Chetan Bhagat,

Firstly, My heartiest congratulations. I recently learnt from various news sources that your latest flick "2 States" is going global. But, you have a set of books that no one can read without shame.  Let me try and explain.

You, along with another equally deplorable writer who writes about her cleavage or her being sixty, are two people who i cannot stand when it comes to Indian writing.

About me first. I am a software engineer by profession but I write for a decent newspaper that encourages people to write well. I am 24. I got my first piece of ‘fan mail’ yesterday. It was from a random guy in Manchester who had been following my writing and was impressed with it.I have been writing a bit ever since early 2009 and I have held on to a handful of followers in various spaces.

I just wanted to inform you that you are not even in the running list of sensible Indian authors (R.K Narayan, Rohinton Mistry and the like). Your writing about call centers, and other places that are just not worth more than a rotten cauliflower,  is definitely not serving any good to mankind. Your writing style is not one. Or to be exact, yours is not a style at all. At this juncture, I definitely need to agree that you have an uncanny but laudable ability to coin words and phrases that can find a place in bollywood scripts straight away.

Wait, that is not all. You went to IIT, we all know you failed miserably there. You wished to write about it, you wrote something about it and by hook or crook, you got published. It could have ended there. But no. Suddenly you went on a spree. You took a shot at the poor call center folks and wrote a lot of shit about them. It didn't end there. You decided to touch upon mistakes by and large. Now, I definitely think the very act of deciding to write such a bad book was your fourth mistake per se. And your latest one can be clearly classified under the heading of "One for bollywood". But it didn't end there either. Your abysmal fourth has been selected for a multilingual by one of the best directors in the industry (Vishal B). Now the last part is where i got pinched. What the hell really? Why are you getting 'n' times lucky with no stuff whatsoever?

I think that not so deep down inside, you do know all this. In my own case, I know I am trivial. I am just writing a few articles and will just keep sticking to this scheme of things.You are doing your writing for a  living. When you grow old, you will remember that you wrote something like one night at the call center/2 States. I feel sorry for you. I don't need to go through those emotions in my fatherhood or grand-fatherhood for that matter.

Art is long and time is fleeting, they say. I, for one, definitely believe in that saying. I know for sure that one day, your foolish followers will turn their backs on you if you continue writing shit like this and somehow meet success in the short term. But to be a good writer, who will be spoken about when his/her great grandson goes to school, you need to write something worthwhile. We know you can't frame simple and proper sentences in TV interviews. But we know you have what it takes to be a runaway short term hit. But the important thing here is you can't earn a living like that in the long term. I suggest you read Indian authors who wrote some sense. You may not appreciate them. But they have a name in the literature wall of fame.

And lastly, please stop writing that crap on the editorial pages of Times of India, People like Swaminathan and M.J.Akbar write there. Please stay away.

P.S : I am not a brag. But I am definitely not happy with the proceedings surrounding your latest novel about your marriage (Uh? Who cares?). Multilingual? Sigh!

Thanks,
Humble blogger

Mix Yourself some Whiskey with Soda

Disclaimer: The text that follows is not worth reading if any of the following holds good:
1. Have some work at office for which your manager is right behind your back.
2. Your wife has given you a list of things to buy and you have just lost it. In which case you will have the uphill task of remembering what was there on the list lest you will be massacred.
3. You have planned to read something worthwhile for today and have summarily rejected any content that has no substance.
4. Your day looks so busy that you have planned only a few hours of sleep.

Then please refrain from continuing as i would categorize the following paragraphs as "Something of no essence"

It would not be news to any of the regular visitors of this space as the first few posts on this blog revolved around Wodehouse and his books. I have taken a long enough hiatus from that obsession and effectively refrained from writing on that topic for a while now. The reasons for the hiatus never stand to mean that i released myself from that Utopian, ethereal world of Wodehouse. After a few of my readers reprimanded me for being so obsessed that the blog was filled with praise for Wodehouse and other related posts, I decided to take a break from those topics.

But now, i have garnered the resolve to touch upon that topic once again. No! Do not Panic. This is not yet another book review. This time it is slightly different. As I had nothing worthwhile to do at office on a nice Thursday morning, I did a strange thing. I took my notepad and started penning down a few of Wodehouse's witty ones that came to mind just then. And then I realized I had a nice list: A few good ones from the best of Wodehouse! So here they go.

"The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost wholly on whether you are at the right or wrong end of the gun"

"Marriage isn't a process of prolonging the life of love, but of mummifying the corpse"

"A melancholy-looking man, he had the appearance of someone who had searched for the leak in life's gas pipe with a lighted candle"

"He had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat, but certainly no more"

"I explain this to Jeeves and he said the same thing had bothered Hamlet"

"Her face was shining like the seat of a bus-driver's trousers"


"There is only one cure for grey hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine"

"I always advise people never to give advice"

"You know how it is with some girls. They seem to take the stuffing right out of you. I mean to say, there is something about their personality that paralyses the vocal cords and reduces the contents of the brain to cauliflower."

"Mere abuse is no criticism."

"It was one of the dullest speeches I ever heard. The Aged woman told us for three quarters of an hour how she came to write her beastly book, when a simple apology was all that was required."

Now, I request readers who were erstwhile criticizing my obsession towards Wodehouse to hold off from scathing attacks by way of comments. The post is basically like a mix of whiskey and soda. One needs it at regular intervals. Hence i pictured the 57th post on my blog as an "interval" and thus filled it with this restorative combination.

Freakonomics: A Review

After a really really long time, I have tried my hands on yet another book review. Though I was slightly late in embarking upon this classic, now is not the bad time because the sequel: Super Freakonomics' is topping the charts at book stores.

Steven Levitt (a famous economist and a Harvard graduate) and Stephen Dubner (a New York journalist) have produced an impeccable work in Freakonomics. Using statistical data to reveal grotesque connections and heterodox behaviors is the basic concept behind the book by and large. Having said that, it is important to note that the book does not have any unifying theme. The authors have chosen to call this approach a treasure-hunt approach to the art of explaining the oblivious.

Is there an incentive for real estate agents to sell their own homes for more than they sell their clients' homes? How would parents react if child care centers started charging fees when they pick up their children after closing time after it had been previously free? Who is most likely to cheat when bagels are paid for on an honor system? Why do drug-dealers tend to live with their moms? What is common between school teachers and Sumo wrestlers? How did the police break into the Ku-Klux clan in 'reality'?Answers to all of these and much more is what is contained in the book. Those answers are simple but surprising. Behavioral economics is the name of the genre that includes this type of number based behavioral reasoning.

Though the book proclaims no unifying theme, to me personally, the unifying theme behind the book is obviously to make the reader find ways to asking questions. The revised edition of the book contains additional texts which are excerpts from the Freakonomics blog and columns. What I got out of the book is a new dimension to my thinking - an economic way of thinking. The Abhorring conventional wisdom was clearly an intention of the authors. Causes of problems that seem obvious usually, might not be the real causes more often than not. Hence, questioning everything is the right starting point to decode any conundrum.

Malcolm Gladwell's thoughts are very very closely aligned to the thought process behind this book. Super Freakonomics is slightly different from the prelude. The authors have taken a counter-intuitive approach to peep into the future.

Verdict: An excellent read. Should be read at one go. Will most likely entice the reader to buy the sequel and in some cases entice the reader to buy all of Malcolm Gladwell's in wholesale. (Last point was true in my case)

Happy Reading!!

Sunny Day at the Portmants

For the first time in twenty three years, I have tried my hands on writing a short story with little (or no) substance and still make it a story like the way P.G Wodehouse does with his impeccable fiction writings. So in short, i tried to imitate his style and thus goes the result:

Disclaimer: Below goes a slightly long short story which is totally open to critique and suggestions. One can choose to skip the story if there is any better job or urgency at the moment. Hence i declare the next few minutes of yours a waste of time. But if one wants to read and comment.

Sunny Day at the Portmants

It was a brilliant day and the Sun shone brightly into the drawing-room on Lord Gregory Christensen, the Third Earl of Peterburg who was reading The Great Gatsby, by Scott Fitzgerald and extended into the dining room to illuminate my Aunt Merilina who was busy making tea for the party. With a lot more warmth, the Sun peeped into the bedroom through the balcony door to wake up from slumber, the youngest soul of the Portmant Castle, Freddie Christensen. The day was a remarkable one with cute clouds moving gradually over the head and birds chirping to glory on tree-tops. I had come down to the Portmant Castle on a weekend errand at the behest of my Aunt Merilina to attend to the family get together meeting that has been an annual event for the Peterburgers since long. The inception of this AGBM (Annual General Body Meeting) could be tracked back to the period of Lord Montegry Thewsaid, my great-grandfather. I was in great mood after an energizing morning ride on my two-seater from London and my mind was chirpy to say the least. I was hobnobbing with a couple of other cousins from the female fraternity in the family when I heard a loud shriek behind my back. It would be grossly understating to the reader if I said the noise shrilled my ears and caused me to jerk a little bit. On deep examination, it was found that the devilish shriek came from the loudest cousin present at the castle for the AGBM. It was this thing about the gentler sex that I have disliked since I was a boy. The prejudice was well founded by way of a handful of experiences with their overly articulated social behavior at clubs and outings. Having been engaged to about seven or eight beautiful girls from London and its suburbs, marriage should have been a thing of the past in my life but it had held its nerve and conducted itself fairly by not coming in the way of my happiness till date. Touch Wood. The reason for such a hide-and-seek with the devil of marriage can be solely attributed to the Gwendon habit of detesting cries and shrieks at public places proceeding from the fairer sex by and large.

The sound that had thus emanated from the eligible spinster in the surroundings had caused a roar around the dining room at Portmant and had succeeded in attracting the attention of all and sundry at the castle irrespective of how far they had been from the source of the noise. “What the hell? Was that Amelia?”, I said, shocked and stunned. “I say, Tommy is a sweetheart”, she riposted. That, in general didn’t explain much to any of the onlookers at the dining hall. Everybody was understandably perplexed still and was waiting for a better explanation. “Ooooooohhh! What a beautiful necklace, this one”, she continued. It takes one ounce more than the average human brain to understand such situations completely and I, being at my best on a fine morning, saw it all. Amelia, for whose engagement, this gathering had come together had just opened her birthday gift from Tommy Fretwood, her school time pal and distant cousin. To a person whose IQ is at least 30 points more than the average IQ levels of an engineer at Harvard or Stanford this would ring a bell and it rightly did to me. As these bells and thoughts were going through my mind, I looked inadvertently at one of the other two testosterone loaded figures present at the hall, the Hon’ble Dingo Kittle who was supposed to be affianced to Amelia shortly. As he saw the reactions from Amelia with that necklace from Tommy at her behest, his eyes began to turn a darkish red and I didn’t miss that paradigm shift in the emotions of a man who has had a gala time in his stay at the Portmants till now. It was clear that jealousy was making the better of this otherwise composed gentleman in his late twenties.

It has to be noted that this is the third time that Dingo and Amelia were about to get engaged and on the two occasions earlier when such an event occurred, something had come in the way of the peacefully affianced couple. The first time, if I remember correctly, doom arose when Dingo spotted Amelia hugging Harold the vicar, among the rhododendrons at the garden behind the castle two hours post the engagement. To a newcomer to the castle, it would not be a well-known fact that Harold was Amelia’s school headmaster and that they both shared an intimate father-daughter relationship ever since the death of Amelia’s father in a shipwreck two years back. Dingo was not aware of such a thing when he spotted them mollycoddling together. He called off the engagement and rushed out of the Portmants without giving any chance to anyone for an explanation. The second time, the engagement was called off by Amelia when she got to know that Dingo had a phobia for rats since his childhood and was not able to display his manly spirit when there was a rat in his bathroom.

After two bumpy rides for these two made-for-each-others, this time luck had smiled upon them and they started addressing each other as darling, sweetheart, pimpoo and that sort of overtures after both had realised their mistakes last week. Amelia said she loved him endlessly and he had lived up to that remark by calling her the only girl of his life. Dingo’s suspicions that Tommy had been secretly wooing his wife to be and that she had just fallen for him on seeing his expensive birthday present for her was the only grave threat to the serenity between the two. But actually, Tommy had given two jewel cases to Gregory Christensen last night and told him to give the first one to Amelia and wire the second one to his neighbor Finky. He had insisted that the pendant go to Amelia as her birthday present and the necklace to Finky who had told him to get it polished before the weekend reverie at the Portmant castle.

To say that the engagement was about to be broken for a record third time would be as good as saying that doom was looking upon Gwendon. Such was the situation because it was not a secret that Amelia looked upon me as her second darling and it would be inevitable that she would ask me to buy her the diamond ring if Dingo called it quits once again. It was a sad thing to digest all of a sudden and the situation called for some witty thinking to find a way to stitch back the engagement as before. The only other person in the dining hall who understood all these complications was my best friend Hermett who had come along with me to the Portmants so as to take a look at the vintage coin collection of Lord Gregory Christensen. He was a man of action and needless to say that he wanted to come to his friend’s rescue in the predicament at all costs. The only leverage he had in this affair was the fact that he was a mutual friend of both myself and Dingo. Thus, he resolved that he was the only possibility when the person who should appease Dingo at the moment was concerned.

The fact that Lord Gregory was such an absentminded dumb head was well-known around Market Portmants and it was this that convinced Hermett to attempt the appeasement by revealing the gross mistake done by Gregory Christensen. In this world, men can be broadly classified into two varieties overall, those who understand what the other person says and those who don’t. Unfortunately Dingo belonged to the second group and he was in no position to listen to what Hermett was trying to say. He was chewing his tongue and clicking his teeth and proceeded to give a burrrppping sound to show his anger and indignation towards Amelia at the moment. Gwendons are optimists per se and usually look for a sliver lining each time the clouds darken around them. It was with this attitude that I was witness to the developments at the dining room when all of a sudden, Gregory barged into the dining room saying “Tommy, Tommy..I’ve made a blunder”.Not realizing that Tommy was at present unavailable among the gathering at the dining hall, he said “Where is Tommy?” about seventeen times as a result of his disturbed emotions before I came to his rescue. I said, “Tommy is at the moment taking a quick shower and would be back for tea and burger anytime now”.To this Gregory said “Oh alright” and stood there waiting for the man’s arrival. With the circumstances being as they were, it was as if everybody at the hall was waiting for Tommy to come and solve a couple of problems. Tommy is a man of quick wit and by means of telepathy or some other “pathy” realized the void he should fill ASAP at the dining room. He entered with a “I say, Hi Dingo, How have you been?” and it would have been a better thing to do if he had chosen any other member from the group for his greetings. Dingo was in no mood to say “Dashed good, how are you doing, Tommy old man” or some such thing. In the meanwhile Gregory who could not wait for his chance interjected by saying “Tommy, I’ve made a blunder”. To this, Tommy asked “Oh What Gregory?”, which was anyway the logical thing to ask. Gregory explained that he had confused the boxes and given the pendant to Amelia and had wired the necklace to Finky. This beat Tommy completely, for as per his instructions to Gregory, this was the right thing to do. He could not see what blunder could have been committed in this. The weaker sex are a disadvantaged fraternity when it comes to the grey mater and as expected, Amelia did not read between the lines and make out the flaws in Gregory’s articulations. As a result, she did not come forward to show the necklace and prove the absence of the pendant at the scene. But as said earlier, Gwendons are quick-witted and understood the situation well. Hence, I grabbed the necklace from Amelia’s hands and held it up in the air for everyone to see. I said, "It is a fact that Gregory has mixed the jewel boxes but after the mix up, the expensive necklace has wrongly come to Amelia as her birthday present." At this, there were two faces that became pictures. One was Amelia’s of course, as she started to realize that Tommy had not gifted her the necklace after all. The second picture was in the form of Dingo’s face to whom the last 10 minutes had sprung a pleasant surprise as he understood that Tommy had not been wooing Amelia after all. My eyes were oscillating between the two pictures with contrasting emotions when I noticed one picture move swiftly towards the other. In a split second, the dining hall was witness to a passionate lip-lock and such a wise act on the part of Hermett should be credited for having brought relief to many a soul at the dining hall. I heaved a heavy sigh of relief and proceeded to have my morning tea that was waiting and continue in my jocular mood from the morning drive into the bed room to wake Freddie Christensen from his early morning slumber for a game of Poker.

The End

For a Change

The idea of writing a book review on the blog has always fascinated me and rightly so, I haven't hidden that little fantasy of mine for there have been quite a few of them in the past. There have been awfully long ones on History, Humor, Literature and what not.

S0, for a change, I have decided to cut the crap and write a few (really only a few) sensible lines on what i think of the two books i have read recently.

A Prefect's Uncle-P.G.Wodehouse

This was the Second book that came from this genius after an outstanding "The Pothunters".The school time story touching upon cricket, stolen money and an embarrassing uncle hits heights of humor many a time in the course of its hundred and fifty odd pages. This one is more of a progress since the first novel for him and the inimitable turn of phrases that he employs (the trademark Wodehouse perfections) are there in this book already.

The Small Bachelor-P.G.Wodehouse

Wodehouse captures an era that probably never was but many of us wish it had. He does one of his best jobs, capturing Twenties' New York at a roar in this neatly done up farce. Just like reading a screwball comedy, laughs come often and out loud! The Small Bachelor is not to be missed by any true aficionado of P.G. Wodehouse

Life would have been better If

• If I did not stop quizzing after high school because it involved a lot of preparation if one had to make a mark when on stage
• If I really cultivated the habit of reading way earlier in life (say 7th standard or something)
• If I concentrated on my chess and took it further when i started playing during my school days
• If I did not take up engineering after school
• If I did not opt for a dual degree from BITS ahead of a Comp. Sci degree at Anna University
• If I knew after school that Journalism was a decently paying career option
  
• If I did not appreciate the fact that getting high when in college was a fantasy
• If I had inherited loads of money and a big business to look after when i graduated
  
• If I really utilized my five years in BITS for constructive purposes
• If I had the courage and money to start up on my own when I wrote my first business plan
• If I really did not think MBA was the easiest path to money
• If I did not choose Software Development for my First Job just because it pays me well
• If I was born in a meagerly populated country
• If I knew how to manage time better
• If I was not the lazy goose that I am
• If Engineers in the country got high paying management jobs right after graduation
• If I could work from home always instead of going to the workplace daily
• If I had realized PG Wodehouse is the most hilarious writer quite earlier
• If I don't suffer from "lethologica" as frequently as I do
  
• If I was really not in the position to write this post after all
  

These are a few of the million things that I regret for having done in Life. I bet everyone has a big list like this one and I know this post is one with which I can tag other bloggers after all.

After writing so much of what i feel, I am sure i have made quite a big deal "Thinking Aloud".

No points for guessing that I am a big pessimist after one reads this.

Yet Another Book Review: "Ring for Jeeves"

No matter what one might argue about PG Wodehouse's style of writing and the lack of seriousness and essence in the stories that he narrates, he is undoubtedly one of the most gifted authors who has the knack of taking his readers through a moving humorous novel each time he attempts to draft one. "Ring for Jeeves" is a typical one which is full of humor and sarcasm that offers a leisure read with all satisfaction.

The novel is arguably one of the most hilarious works ever offered, for the portrayal of characters is absolutely outstanding. In Biggar, the instrumental character in the plot, Wodehouse paints a naughty but witty hunter who plays an important role in the "All's well that ends well" climax that's in the offering. The protagonist Bill plays a dummy hero as he rides upon Jeeves' wit all through his difficulties in handling the comic villain Biggar.

What amuses me most is the way Wodehouse portrays wealthy widows in England for he mocks thoroughly upon their innocence and gullibility. The novel takes one through an entertaining ride with all ingredients of a hilarious British milieu.

The novel is a must read for light readers who enjoy the language and satiric tendencies more than the essence itself. It gives the right feel of PGW and his style of writing. A big hats off to the most hilarious writer of modern times.

Book Review: "Great Indian Novel"

Shashi Tharoor’s debut novel’’’’The Great Indian Novel“ presents a lot of material for many accusations. However from the title to the content you have to be a “proper" Indian down to the last bone in your body, if you’re going to truly appreciate this book. This is a satire and as is the case with such works you have to be an insider, to really “get” the joke.

So with that i would say, the book does bring about a successful marriage between The Mahabharata and Pre-Independence politics. For, the Mahabharata is probably the earliest account of the struggle for power and control.It is the story of the great war of Kurukshetra between the Pandavas and the Kauravas- the story of the war to establish the right over the Indian throne.Underlying it is the eternal conflict of Dharma versus Adharma. So on a bigger note, the concept of the book is tough to imagine. Outstanding i should say has been the thoughts behind it's creation.

The author through the voice of Ved Vyas takes us through the major events that shaped India’s destiny in the period that eventually culminated in freedom from the British. The second half of the book deals with the rise(& decay) of independent India & the woman who ruled her. It takes the characters out of the Mahabharata ,paints them with unmistakable traits of modern Indian politicians & in the process,turns both the ancient Indian epic & history on its head.

A Mohandas K Gandhi who stood up for his ideals & for his country was elevated to the status of a Mahatma. However we gloss over the fact that he had his failings. Whether it be eye-brow raising eccentricities like forcing his wife to lie naked next to him as an ultimate test of his self-control or more profound ones like his inability to prevent the partition of India despite his promise never to let that happen. He was only an ordinary man albeit one with extraordinary vision.

Would our history have been different if he had not had to maintain his image? We don't know. The novel makes one think on these lines is what i intended to convey.

Verdict: The marriage was a success, no doubt. But the reader has to put in extra efforts to appreciate the satiric way in which the novel has been narrated. Nevertheless, it gives a great picture of India from behind till date.

Worth a leisure reading when one really feels like contemplating on the two biggest phases of Indian history.