Logic and Two Five Year Olds

Logic.

The science of inference and deduction.

I am beginning to believe that no one understands this science better than a five year old. 

The promptness and speed with which penetrating insights are arrived at; the alacrity with which judgements are delivered; has been leaving me feeling confounded and grasping for a suitable repartee in almost every skirmish I have with my two five year olds. 

There was a time I used to rate myself pretty okay on the nimble witted scale. 

Not anymore. I don't. 

So, in honour of Year 5, here are few moments that left me off-balance. 

The 5 year old's Guide to the Galaxy

M.O.M had made a successful trip to Mars. And at a fraction of the cost NASA spent on it's missions.

Given that the boys key associations with the motherland is with dirt (dis-gust-ing), people spitting on the roads (awesome), incessant honking (super fun), cows and goats on the roads (actually that is pretty cool too), beggars (distressing) and not very "comfo-ble" stays; I was using this landmark achievement to make them aware that India is much more than all they associate it with.

V1, has his own theory of relativity, wherein the speed of every moving object is relative to that of his favourite animal, the cheetah,

V1 to me:  "Mamma, who is faster? A rocket or cheetah?"

I proceeded to spend the next few minutes patiently explaining the concept of gravity and escape velocity, with a simplicity and conciseness that would have made Jr Gandhi proud.

And that is when V1 interrupted me mid sentence.

"No! I know why the rocket is faster than the cheetah" he said.

"It's because the rocket's butt is on fire. If you put a cheetah's butt on fire, he will go fast like a rocket too". 

I guess there is a reason, we named this one The Wise One. 

The Conservation Dilemma. 

We have been discussing the concept of conservation for a while now. 

I wanted the boys to realise that there are people who walk miles each day for a bucket of water so they respect the resources they have access to. We had also been discussing deforestation and how it is making animals becoming homeless, causing climate change and pushing us slowly towards the brink of extinction

The other day at the dining table, V1 moved off his chair, mid meal to off to pick up a tissue he definitely didn't need.

Me: Why are you wasting tissues? You are just five minutes away from finishing. You could have washed your hands after you were done. 

V1: But I am using the tissue because you told me not to waste water. 

Me, still annoyed: Every tissue you use was made killing a plant somewhere. 

V1: Do you want me to save water or do you want me to save the plant? You need to choose because I can do only one when I am cleaning my hands. 

Wooing 2 women with one love note..

The Remote Effect

V2: What gift do you want for your birthday Mammy?

Me: I want you to listen to your mamma, to be an obedient child. That can be my gift. 

V2: Oh! So actually you want a remote controller to control me.

Someone figured out that getting Santa's job
would be the best way to collect maximum gifts.

Mothers who live in glass houses ...

It was early morning on a Sunday. I had stayed up late watching some mindless movies and wanted to sleep in and wanted to wake up in my own sweet time.

However, when it comes to sleep, the "mother proposes, child disposes" rule has always been consistent in our household.

So true enough. Was woken up rudely to the sound of my two boys jumping from the bed to the floor in their room, while letting out blood curdling yells, apparently inspired by the Tarzan movie they saw the previous night.

Me: Can you stop this yelling and talking loudly early morning, please!

V2: Why?

Me: Because I cannot handle all these loud yelling and screaming noises. They hurt my ears and give me a headache.

V2: But if you don't like noise, then why do you scream at us all the time?

Its always nice to know what you are doing right...

Hair raising comeback

V1: "Mamma why is your hair getting white?"

Me : Well, each time you are naughty, each time you make me angry or sad or exasperated, one hair on my head turns white"

I pat myself on the back for such inspired, scintillating logic.

It seemed to have worked. 

V1 looked suitably chastised, gave me a tight hug and piped up:  "I will never be naughty. If I be good, Mammy will not be old and die"

It seemed too good to be true. And so of course it didn't last very long.

Because V2 had a question: "Hey Maa, why is Paati's (grandma) hair all white? Does that mean Daddy is naughty and making her angry all the time?"

Ummm... errrr...... hmmmm...... 

There was only one way to answer this. So I said "Stop yakking at bedtime and go to bed NOW" 

The 5 Day Black and White challenge

I was tagged by a friend on Facebook to do the 5 day Black and White challenge.

Normally I am really bad at following up on any of these, (the last one on 5 positive per day barely lasted 3 days) but photography is a subject close to my heart so not only did I manage to do all 5 days of it, I even had a few extras that I never got to share

So I thought, why not make a post of these black and white pictures? Especially given that the frequency of my posts can put the Halley's comet to shame, here is a good opportunity to just put up some pictures without having to tax my grey cells. 

So, without further ado, here they are

"The most colorful thing in the world is black and white,
it contains all colors and at the same time excludes all.”

Walking on a lonely beach, Nusa Dua
The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places"
~ Ernest Hemingway

 First snow, London:
 “Snow on one side of the canvas, silence on the other. I’d call that a perfect painting.”

"Everything in the universe has a rhythm, everything dances. ” ~ Maya Angelou

Nuwara Eliya, Sri Lanka, one foggy afternoon.
"I  really love the fog. It hides you from the world and the world from you. You feel that everything has changed, and nothing is what it seemed to be.  No one can find or touch you any more. ~ Eugene O'Neill

Now for a look at the "also rans" that I wanted to, but couldn't post because of the limit of 5 :) -

"When you have seen beyond yourself; you may find,
peace of mind is waiting there"
~ George Harrison

Walking towards Marina Barrage, Singapore
Living in a world that full of busy people is like living in a world ALONE.”

The much awaited trip to Siem Reap - Part II

While my first post on Siem Reap, was about the temples in Angkor Wat, which were built by the Hindu kings, this one is about Buddhist temples of Angkor Thom as well a forgotten little gem called Neak Pean. 

Angkor Thom or The Great City was the last capital of the mighty Khmer empire and comprises of the Buddhist temples of Bayon, Baphoun, the Elephant Terrace and the Terrace of the Leper King. 

The entry to Angkor Thom are through some stunningly carved grand towers, each of which is topped by four faces of the Buddha, each facing a different direction. 

Samudra Manthan or the churning of the Ocean of milk that happened at the beginning of time; is a theme oft seen in the temples of Angkor; with the Devas and the Asuras using the mount Mandar as the churning rod and with the serpent king Vasuki as the churning rope to obtain Amrit, the nectar of immortality.
Here too, the themes is seen in a causeway which is flanked by Devas  and Asuras on either side - holding a serpent.

The Asuras

The Temple of Bayon: 

Of all the temples we cover in this post, the Bayon is probably the most famous and well recognised  because of it's distinctive Buddha faces. According to our guide, there are 2 distinctly different sets of faces here - the one with the eyes closed is supposed to be that of Buddha while the ones with their eyes open are supposed to be those of the King keeping watch over his territory. 

The Bayon temple also has a lot of intricate carvings - drawn from the lives and the wars around them

Seen here the Queen with her subjects

A carving depicting a scene of a battle fought in the water while
ordinary villagers go about their day to day chores

The Terrace of the Leper King: 
There are many interpretations of who the Leper King is: Some say it is Yama, the God of Death, while Cambodian mythology insinuates it to be the King who possibly suffered from leprosy.

Carvings on the Terrace of the Leper King, 

Preah Khan:
Reminiscent of the Ta Prohm, because of the vegetation that threatens to take over the temple, this is a stunning temple filled with sculptures of Apsaras, Nagas and their sworn enemy the Garuda.

A guard at one of the entrances to Preah Khan

A Stupa inside Preah Khan

A headless statue of Buddha.
There are a lot such sculptures in Siem Reap, where the statues have
either been destroyed by incessant wars or have been sold off in the black market

Garuda, the King of birds and the arch nemesis of the Nagas

And finally, Neak Pean or the Temple of the Intertwined Naga Serpents. Once upon a time, these waters were supposed to be a cure for all illness. Today it is a dead swamp filled with dead trees and snakes. 

The temple of Neak Pean

The much awaited trip to Siem Reap - Part I

"People don't take trips.... trips take people" ~ John Steinbeck

Nowhere has this been more true for me than during my visit to Siem Reap.

This was a trip that I had been dreaming of and trying to plan for a long time; and since I have a husband who is least interested in art, architecture or history, and since this was definitely not a trip my 5 yr olds would enjoy, it made sense to leave the 3 boys behind at home and go on this by myself. 

The problem started when I started looking for a friend/ companion who would like to come along on this trip - each time a friend and I tried planning this trip, it fell through either mostly because we couldn't work out dates that suited both of us or in one case, because one had pangs of guilt about taking a holiday minus her husband (which was really ironic and amusing, as here I was, desperate to run off and away from the 3 men in my life on a, what is apparently in more polite terms referred to as a "mom-cation"). So after months of struggling to find a date and a partner, things fell in place when my Maa came to visit. She seemed the perfect partner given her love for travelling to places that are of historical and mythological interest; and after my dad passed away early this year, this trip seemed a good way to cheer her up as well. 

So numerous messages and calls were made to friends who had been to Siem Reap, the hotel and tickets were booked, hours were spent reading up travel sites on what temples to prioritise, an itinerary was chalked out, and finally we were off. 

What followed was 3 and a half days of sheer bliss - days spent looking at old temples, learning about their history, the myths and legends surrounding them, clicking pictures to my heart's content, long leisurely lunches followed by short afternoon siestas; and dinners spent pigging out on delectable Khmer food. 

Without further ado, here are some of the pictures from this memorable trip.
I will be breaking this trip into 2 parts - there are just too many pictures and too much information to accommodate in one post - this part will be about the temples in Angkor Wat and the famous temple of Ta Prohm. 

The first stop on our 3 day itinerary was Angkor Wat; the largest and one of the oldest existing religious monuments in the world.

Built in the 12th century; it was the first temple dedicated to Vishnu as against the temples built for Shiva by the previous kings. Today it is not just a symbol of the richness of Khmer architecture, it is also a symbol of Cambodia; is present on the national flag and is a great source of national pride.

Angkor Wat

The temple is built to represent Mount Meru, the home of the Devas (Gods), and is surrounded by a moat which is supposed to represent the ocean. It is considered an architectural wonder for its scale, grandeur, it's intricate carvings and architectural harmony.

The 7 headed Serpent King guarding the entrance to Angkor -
adly he is one of the few well preserved specimens

A close up of the carvings at the entrance

A corridor filled with carvings from the Mahabharata

Below is a statue of the 8 handed Vishnu that we came upon while trying to seek shelter from a sudden downpour.

The 8 armed Vishnu

Formerly a Hindu temple, it was subsequently converted into a Buddhist shrine when the Hindu king was succeeded by a Buddhist ruler.

A monk entering the inner sanctum

I waited for him to turn around so I could ask him to pose.
And just as I did, he smiled, handed me his iPad and asked if I could take a picture of him too

A recurring theme in the carvings at Angkor is that of Apsaras - beautiful celestial beings of air and water, who spent their time very fruitfully entertaining the Gods and tempting holy men. Apparently there are about 2000 apsaras carved in the temple of Angkor Wat alone. 

When Myth meets Reality: The dressed up Apsara charged me USD 2 to pose for this picture :)

So I decided to stick to clicking the less worldly wise ones :)

Bantaey Srey or the Citadel of Women is unarguably the most visibly stunning temple in Siem Reap. Built from rose pink sandstone, and as a shrine to Lord Shiva, it is called the Citadel of Women because of its intricate carvings; which are so delicate that they could have been made only by women!

A doorway in Bantaey Srey

A guard at the doorway to the inner sanctum of the temple at Bantaey Srey

A stunning carving of a distraught and furious Shiva carrying in his arms
the dead Parvati;while other Gods and mortals cower in fear,
terrified at the destruction his grief will unleash

Another beautiful carving of the Monkey King Sugriva fighting his brother Bali

Bantaey Samrey
A lesser known temple near the more famous and touristy Banteay Srey - I really enjoyed this one as there was hardly any other tourist around in this one.
Legend has it that it was used as a political prison during the reign of Pol Pot.

The picture below is of a Stupa containing the ashes of the King.

Ta Prohm: 
Almost anyone who has heard of Siem Reap, would recognise the sight of this broken down temple almost engulfed by gigantic trees. Thanks to Angelina Jolie and Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, Ta Prohm is probably the most famous of the Angkor temples today.

The temple is not as well preserved as the temples of Bantaey Srey or Angkor, having been destroyed partly by the constant wars between the Khmers and the neighbouring Chams (what is Vietnam today) and partly by the erosion caused by time and by the forest taking over. The most stunning feature of this temple is the gigantic silk-cotton trees growing out of the ruins, with trunks that seem to reach up to the skies and roots that look strong enough to destroy and overpower anything that comes in their way.

The silk cotton trees that are simultaneously destroying and holding together the structure 

Roots that seem powerful enough to overpower anything that come their way

The pictures in this post are of some of the temples we covered in our first day and a half in Siem Reap.
We also had plans of going to Kbal Spean to see the Thousand Lingas in the river bed but we had to take a raincheck on it; literally, as it involved a hike up a hill and my mother was not very confident of making it. Moreover we were were told the rains would make the path more slippery and render the lingas in the river bed, difficult to see. We decided to err on the side of comfort and left this temple for another trip to Siem Reap.

Stay tuned as part II of this post will be about the equally stunning Buddhist temples of Bayon, Baphoun and The Grand Circuit. 

Surgery at 5: A milestone I shall never forget!

17th August 2014

School opened 5 days ago. 

Just as I was thanking my stars that we had a relatively uneventful summer vacation this year; with only some bleeding from a torn toenail, a couple of small cuts on one leg resulting from dashing into a cyclist passing by and a cut on the head from trying to perform stunts while scootering; all that thankfulness came crashing down with one dramatic, panic stricken and blood spilled dash to the ER in an ambulance, admissions into KKH, a minor surgery under anaesthesia followed by 24hours in the hospital under observation. 

V1 slipped and fell after trying to climb the top of a tunnel connecting two slides in our condominium playground. The fall from a height and the impact cut his tongue so deeply, he was sent from the ER to the operation theatre and needed to be put under general anaesthesia and had a surgeon put 11 stitches in his tongue to stitch the gashes. 

Still, the horror of the experience notwithstanding, I have to admit the guy was a trooper - he was less freaked out than his parents; never lost his patience even though he had to wait for 5 hours before he could go into surgery and was given painkillers that blocked out his pain; sat quietly on his bed, spitting out blood and saliva into a bag; nodded sanely when the doctor explained the IV needle to him and then barely whimpered when it was put in; and back in his room, even tried to use his raised hospital bed as a slide to pass time.

He is also most definitely the only 5 year old I know who called the nurse and asked her to put the IV needle back in after it was removed, so he could impress his brother who was visiting him in the hospital! 

So the surgeons at KKH sent him back home with a bravery certificate (which has made brother V2 extremely angry and envious). 

I would have probably given him a certificate of bravery myself had I not been caught up in the emotional turmoil, the helplessness and horror of watching an IV drip go into my tiny 5yr old and having to carry him and lay him on the operating table and holding his hand till the anaesthesia started working! 

Right now he is back home, on a liquid diet, unable to talk or swallow and is still up to no good. 

While a part of me is waiting to yell at him when he is better, I am really thankful, because his injury could have been worse had it not been a soft playground floor. I am hoping this trip to the hospital will teach him a thing or two about being a little less reckless and a little more careful! 

However, judging by his attempts to jump out of his hospital bed a few hours after his surgery, I am not sure if that lesson has sinked in or ever will. 

The bravery certificate that V1 is immensely proud of and V2 is very unhappy about :)

Update : 2 weeks later

V1 is recovering well (notwithstanding another scare last week when he fell down in school and cut his lip and had to be rushed for another checkup to see if the fall had affected his stitches) and his stitches have more or less disappeared. He can talk and eat his favourite fruits again.

Any hope I had of the fall getting some some sense into V1's head, has long disappeared after I found it has been having exactly the opposite effect and has increase his Coolness Quotient among the other kids in our condominium and in his class. Each day V1 came back from school, he told me how other kids (even girls who always ignored him) wanted to see his stitches. The same goes for all the kids of our neighbours who have been dropping in to visit him - the ride in the ambulance is one of the hottest topics of discussion and V1 has become the resident expert, being the only one to have seen the inside of one! Trust a 5year old to find the silver lining in every cloud there is!

Love in the time of Kindergarten

With abject apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson, for massacring a classic, I have reached the conclusion that the time when one waited for the Spring of youth to fall in love, is long over. Instead, young men and their "fancy lightly turn into thoughts of love" by the time they reach the ripe age of 4years. 

And so it has been in our household, with our V1 and V2 being very caught up these days with issues that are very pertinent to a 4yr old's existence; such as love and marriage. Every other day, there is some discussion or the other about who to marry, who not to marry, what will lead to marriage, what one looks for when choosing a partner and so on… 

So, in keeping with spirit of Christmas love and to celebrate the winding down of this memorable 2013,  here are a few snippets of our current romances, dalliances and heartbreaks.

Let me show you my moves baby

A few weeks back, the boys and I were at the swimming pool in our condominium. I was busy reading a book by the pool side while the boys were splashing around. At that moment, there arrived, a little water nymph who was all of 8 years old. As she proceeded to jump through an inflatable tire with a proficiency that would put a trained sea lion to shame, the boys stopped all splashing to watch her spell bound. 

V2 our Casanova, not content with being mere audience, decided he needed to make her acquaintance. So each time she jumped, he would clap and shout, "You are so beautiful. Do it again". It must have pleased the girl, for she went on to acknowledge his presence with the faintest hint of a nod and smile. 

So it went on; V2 playing the love struck fan by furiously clapping and showering compliments and the water nymph raising her game with more daring dives to further impress her admirer. 

All this while, V1 had been watching her silently. He must have decided it was time to make his presence felt, for, after an entire half hour spent watching her, he finally spoke.
"Hey, I can see your bum", he said.

Result : Pin drop silence for a moment, followed by a glare that could kill from kilometres away; and then the water nymph stomped off in a huff.

Why do I begin with this incident?
Because this moment; in a nutshell, sums up the difference in their style, their attitude and their modus operandi.
V1 is typical guy - uncomplicated, forthright and is yet to grasp the enormous power of flattery.
V2 on the other hand, is a smooth operator, who instinctively knows what is the right thing to say, how to charm and is harbouring ambitions of creating his own personal harem.

It's not what you said!

V1 comes home from school looking crestfallen one day. "Mammy, one girl pinched me in the bus and it hurt me so much"

The Bong mother was understandably worked up. "Why did she pinch you? Did you complain to your bus aunty?"

V1: "No, she pinched me because I annoyed her"

Me sighing: "What did you do to annoy her"

V1: "Me call her a big, red watermelon and she got angry"

I sigh louder and bend down to explain patiently to my innocent child, how the world works ,
"People get mad if you call them a watermelon. It's not a compliment. Why would you call her a watermelon?" 

V1: "But I love watermelons Mammy. I call her watermelon because I like her. But her get annoyed and her pinched me. I told you girls are annoying and silly"

Marry for love or money? Or a few pieces of silver? 

One day V2 comes up to me and says, "I want to marry Aunty C"

Me: "Eh? Why? I didn't know you liked her so much"

Aunty C is one of my closest friends.
V1 and V2 adore her 12yr old daughter and her husband but have never been overtly enamoured by her. Hence I was confused as to these new developments. 

V2 explains patiently, "Mammy when I ask you for your necklace, you said you give me your jewellery only if I marry a girl you like. So I thought and I thought and I had a very good idea. I marry Aunty C because you like her. And then I can have all your jewellery."

All it takes is just one kiss!

Christmas carol singing in school.
While all the children including V2, dressed cutely in Santa hats, are singing along, V1 sits there, with his hat pulled over his eyes, pretending he doesn't exist and looking like he wishes to be light years away from the whole spectacle. 

During the singing, there are parts where you have to hug and kiss the person next to you.
Next to V1 is a cute little Japanese girl in red. She looks crestfallen, because each time she tries to hug V1, he glares at her and utters a loud No.

After the singing was over, I decide to have a chat with V1.
"How was the singing" I ask. "Did you not enjoy yourself?"
V1 is a man of few words, like his dad.
"No" he says.
"Okay. But why didn't you let the girl hug and kiss you? She looked so sad because you were pushing her away" I said, trying to appeal to his better nature.
"I didn't want her to kiss me" V1 replied.
"Why?"
"Because if she kissed me, she would have wanted to marry me"

The No.1 thing to look for in your life partner? 

We are talking about the movie Frozen which we saw that weekend.
What we are discussing is the fight between the 2 sisters Elsa and Anna on the topic of Anna's marriage.

V1: "Why her sister say she can't marry?"
Me: "Because the guy was a stranger and her sister said she couldn't marry a stranger."

At this point V2, who is perpetually showing off his superior knowledge, pipes in.
"You cannot marry a stranger.

You need to know them for 76 minutes.

If you can remember their name after 76 minutes, you can marry them.
If you cannot remember their name, you cannot marry them"

Now THAT, is some really sensible advice indeed!!! I just wish he remembers it when he is 21!  

Second time's the charm...

V1 may have the knack of showering people with the worst compliments, but apparently he is getting better at it. This is a story I heard from his class teacher at the PTA meeting.

V1 to Ms K, "Ms K, I love your skin"
Ms K is from New Zealand and is heavily freckled. According to her, she has received many compliments in her life but none for how her skin looks.
So she asked V1 why he loved her skin.
V1: "Because you have so many spots Ms K, you look like a cheetah."
Cheetah being V1's favourite animal, Ms K, needless to say was touched with that genuine, heartfelt compliment.

Brothers before Others!

Inspite of all the talk of not wanting to be married (V1) or wanting to have 11 wives (V2 as of last count), there is one love that trumps all others as of now..
No, not the love for Mammy but for the brother, best friend, partner in crime.

Thus,
Love is…..

Appointing yourself brother's legal counsel and negotiating on his behalf, each time he is pulled up by Mammy.

Waking up in the middle of the night, and dragging brother while simultaneously carrying his water bottle, his pillow and toy to Daddy Mammy's room, so he doesn't get left behind alone.

Coming home proudly displaying the certificate the teacher handed you. Then you look at your brother who is crying inconsolably because he didn't receive one. And then without even batting an eyelid, you tear your precious certificate in half and hand over one half to your crying brother and say "Here, take your share".

And love is…. jumping into the deeper end of the pool without a thought, even when you can barely swim on your own, even though your dad is already there, because "my brother was sinked and I needed to rescue him"

On that note, here's to a 2014 filled with loads of love and happiness! 

Krrish 3

Firstpost called it "a film instructor's worst nightmare.

Indian Express gave it a mere 2 and a half stars.

My sister who went to see it with her 3 and a half year old, proclaimed it as a movie meant only for those with the mental age of a 10 year old or less. 

Then came the hilarious Vigil Idiot review that clobbered everything about it. 

So obviously, I just had to go see for myself, exactly how bad it really was. 

Now, I honestly do not know if it is because my threshold for crappy movies is real high, (movies like Jaani Dushman Ek Anokhi Kahaani or Attack of the Killer Pumpkin; that send normal people scurrying for cover are staple Friday night fare for me) or if it is because I grew up a comic book geek and love all superhero movies, or if it is because I have the EQ of a 8yr old;  but the truth is, I actually didn't hate Krrish 3. 

Infact I quite enjoyed it. 

True to every accusation, it has been heavily "inspired" by X-Men and The Amazing Spiderman, Man of Steel and a few other superhero movies out there. (Mr Roshan, you cannot claim coincidence as your defence, when your moll is a desi replica of Mystique, when every single one of your villain's sidekicks seem to have popped out of the X-Men movies, when your villain has the powers of Prof X and apes the Dark Phoenix while unleashing destruction, and your climax sequence is a copy of Man of Steel). 

However, to give the Roshans their due, they manage to Bollywoodize these "inspirations", tie them together and turn it into a pretty watchable  desi-superhero film, with familiar Manmohan Desai style elements like lost-evil-brother, sacrificing-father, vamp-in-love-with-hero thrown in, and then jazz it up with some stunning special effects.

Nah, make that seriously mind-blowing, world class special effects! 

Sure, the story is a mishmash of gibberish, but then most superhero movies/ James Bond movies have plots as thin, if not thinner than this. And tell me honestly, have you ever seen a superhero movie, where the plot made sense? If it is rationale and logic that you want, why go watch a superhero movie in the first place? 

Hrithik as the superhero Krrish, looks just as gorgeous as Henry Cavill and he is definitely far better looking than Ben Affleck will ever be as Batman. He could have been been quite likeable if he didn't have this propensity to get all teary eyed at the drop of a hat. Kangana as the shape shifting mutant, brings a tenderness to her role that Mystique never really had, and steals the show totally from Priyanka. 

For me the biggest let down of the movie was not the brand placements that were everywhere (though having a Flair pen brand placement crop up in the climax, when the scientist dad is trying to save his son is just plain ludicrous); it was Vivek Oberoi in the role of the wheelchair bound villain with telekinetic powers, Kaal; who inspite of the white makeup and blue contacts, just didn't seem fearsome or evil enough. 

Anyways, to cut a long story short, I went in expecting the worst, and came back quite surprised. 

Hell, I might even watch it again. 

What does that say about my taste or my EQ, I really have no idea. 

The Cuckoo's Calling : a review

After a three week long wait in the reservation queue at the National Library, Singapore, finally I got my hands on the famous "The Cuckoo's Calling" last month. 

For those not familiar with the book (a next to impossible feat that, given the amount of publicity it has garnered in the recent months), the book is a murder mystery, purportedly written by a unknown author, Robert Galbraith. What makes it (in)famous however, is that; after the book had been published and had barely sold 500 copies, it was revealed that the relatively unknown Robert Galbraith was none other than J. K. Rowling, the highly successful and much acclaimed author of the Harry Potter series. Once the identity of the author was known, the book immediately shot up to the top of all best seller lists, received rave reviews and became a world wide phenomenon. 

Rowling, in the Robert Galbraith website and in a tell-all interview with the Guardian, has spoken/ written at great length about why she chose to write under a pseudonym. If you are interested in reading more about it, you can follow the link here. However, this post is about the book and not about the author and her intentions, so we shall leave that issue behind and proceed ahead.

As I mentioned earlier, given all the publicity and the rave reviews this book was garnering, and given my addiction to crime fiction novels, I was extremely curious to find out for myself how The Cuckoo's Calling fared and whether it lived up to the expectations it had created. 

The story revolves around the death of a super model, Lula Landry, under suspicious circumstances. The police dismiss the case as that of a suicide but her brother, who remains convinced that it is a murder, calls in an ex-army policeman turned detective, Cormoran Strike, to investigate the case. What follows after, makes for the story of Rowling's first foray into crime fiction. 

Now, for starters, I must admit that inspite of all the media attention it has garnered, The Cuckoo's Calling is quite a good and interesting novel and keeps you engrossed throughout most of its 460 odd pages. 

What I loved about the book

One of the best things about the book was the characters Galbraith/Rowling introduces us to; especially that of her main protagonist, Cormoran Strike; a disabled ex-army cop with one leg. He is the illegitimate offspring of a famous rock star and a groupie-addict, and has seen more than his share of hard times, growing up. When we are introduced to him, he is trying to cope with being homeless and betrayed by the woman he loves and is struggling to keep his life and his business afloat. In every sense of the term, he is an underdog and he ends up making you root for him to succeed. 

I also enjoyed the character of Strike's smart, practical and enterprising temp, Robin, who complements Strike perfectly. While the pair may not be in the same league as Holmes and Watson or Poirot and Hastings, they make for a very formidable and enjoyable team nevertheless. The other characters, that of model Lula Landry who was adopted at birth and is looking for her roots, her designer friend, her boy-friend with the bad-boy image, the snooty high society neighbour and her lecherous husband are all sketched out beautifully. 

Now while there have been criticisms about the book being old fashioned, I think that is precisely what I loved about it. It was very refreshing to meet a detective who takes copious notes on a note pad with a pen and uses his grey cells instead of running around, brandishing hi-tech gadgets and weapons that have become the fashion statement for detectives these days. 

I also loved the way Galbraith has weaved in the celebrity-paparazzi equation and the telephone tapping scandal that rocked UK sometime back. 

What I didn't like so much

For me, the pace of the book was challenging at times. Galbraith tends to meander and also go on and on with long descriptions that are unnecessary and not to relevant to the situation at hand, leaving one wishing that the plot was more focussed and crisp.

Also none of the characters seemed sinister or driven enough to commit murder, especially if you compared them to any set of characters with motives in any Agatha Christie murder mystery. The story line therefore lacked enough "red herrings" with substantial motives that one comes to expect from a murder mystery.

However, my biggest crib with the book is that the character of the murderer is the one Galbraith/ Rowling chose to neglect the most. Even though I had managed to guess who the murderer was, well before we reached the end (an overdose of crime fiction will do that to you), I just wished there was more time spent in building the plot and the motive instead of suddenly foisting it on the reader. 

So on the whole, while I definitely do not agree with those who call Rowling to be the greatest thing to happen to detective fiction since Agatha Christie, The Cuckoo's Calling was definitely a surprisingly good and enjoyable read and fared better than my expectations. 

And yes, I cannot wait for its sequel to be out in the stores. 

Farewell and Rest in Peace...

“At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone.
It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out.
You cannot read loss, only feel it.”
― Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

Returning from a 2 month hiatus from blogging, never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that the first post I would pen down would be about loss and death. And definitely not the loss of someone dear, someone I have known for 14years now, someone I lived with, cared for and saw growing up in front of my eyes. 

Jayanth Amal Raj
30th October 1981 - 29th September 2013

I met him for the first time in 1999, when he was a shy, frail, reclusive teenager who had just been diagnosed with an ailment that had turned his life upside down... 

A year later, when I married his brother, he came to live with us in our first home in Bangalore. 

Life wasn't easy and he had more than his fair share of ups and downs, but he fought to beat the odds. 

And with pride we watched him bloom from a scared, hesitant boy into a grown up who successfully battled his ailment, who had a job he loved and a circle of friends who loved him for who he was. 

Chotu (the little one) was the youngest one in the family. Even when surrounded by a bunch of family members who were over-protective and indulgent where he was concerned, he never let it change him - he was generous to a fault, sweet and considerate. He had the rare ability to see the good in everyone and make every one feel good about themselves. He unfailingly remembered birthdays and anniversaries and sent us all reminders to wish each other. He let himself get bullied into running errands.  If you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was happy to oblige. If you asked him for help, he was always there. For every gesture of love you showed, he returned it manifold. 

Over the years, he and I forged a relationship that went far beyond that a brother in law and a sister in law shared.

We ganged up together to poke fun at Vj.
And swore to be the only members in the Raj family who would never run a marathon.

He was the faithful lieutenant I dragged with me to shady theatres, to watch Rajnikanth movies that Vj refused to go watch. And to shopping expeditions Vj refused to accompany me to.

He stood by my side in the kitchen, each time I cooked; "I don't want you to feel alone in the kitchen" he said. And he generously praised every little thing I put on the table, while I poked fun at his forever growing appetite.

He knew I abhorred the sight of a dirty kitchen and so he always washed and tidied up and removed all signs of Vj's and his bachelor existence each time I was coming back home from a trip. He continued the tradition when was I visited Bangalore where he lived, making sure the apartment always underwent a round of thorough cleaning each time I was visiting. 

And he was, and will always remain my first fan, heaping extravagant praises on everything I did. Or telling friends and family members and colleagues countless stories about me. 

To him, his "Bhabhi" was larger than life... a person who was way more talented, more accomplished in his head than I really am or could ever hope to be, and whose love and approval mattered a lot to him. 

"You are the President and lone flag bearer of my fan club", I used to joke. 

Today that ardent fan is gone.

He would have been 32 this month but he didn't live to see his 32nd birthday. 

Over the last 8 days, from the moment I walked into the chapel and saw him lying peacefully as if asleep, I have gone through a whole gamut of emotions - shock, disbelief, anger and grief. 

I cannot believe he is gone. 

That he won't be with us for Christmas. 

That he will be missing from all our family gatherings.

That he will not be there for my niece's baptism or V1 V2's first communion. 

Or call to wish me on my birthday.

Or mail or text me silly jokes and annoying forwards. 

Or walk in through the door of our Bangalore home, asking me what I wanted cooked for dinner. 

As a part of me keeps trying to make sense of what happened, I remember the sight of him lying peacefully, seemingly asleep and I hold on to the image. 

I pray that he is at peace and happy in the place he has passed on to. 

And that he shall be there, watching over his nephews and niece who he adored. 

Rest in peace JAR.

"The angels are always near to those who are grieving, to whisper to them that their loved ones are safe in the hand of God".

 ~ Quoted in The Angels' Little Instruction Book by Eileen Elias Freeman, 1994