Bangalore traffic (and I can’t seem to get enough of it) can be partially dealt with. Indeed. If you take more than an hour to get to your work place then one thing you can do to utilize all that commute time is listen to audio books on your phone or mp3 player. If you don’t take more than an hour to reach your workplace, you definitely don’t stay in Bangalore and can ignore the rest of this post. Unless, of course, you are a fan of my writings.

All you need to do is buy an audio book or download one from the hundreds of free AND legal versions available out there. While the audio versions of new books are relatively expensive, there are hundreds of classics which are in the public domain and are available for free download!

Legally free? Yes. Head over to OpenCulture and check out the catalogue there. The caveat is that only classics are available for free. But then, when were you going to sit down and start reading all the classics? Never. So it makes sense to be done with them while driving through all that mess of this city. If not anything, you definitely will come across as a well-read road-ragist.

I have finished two audio books in the recent past: Stephen Hawking’s The Grand Design and Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. The Grand Design has been shared over at InGoodBooks.com.

I am now reading, er, listening to E. M. Forster’s A Room with a View. The only drawback I see (hear?) with audio books is that it is difficult to appreciate fine writing while listening to it. Sure, a book like Hawking’s can be listened to since the core there is the idea, the concept. In Forster’s book, for instance, the emphasis is more on the writing styles, the metaphors, the juxtaposition of prose over a poetic framework – all a tad difficult to infuse in your literary senses while you are avoiding potholes and other fellow motorists.

Nevertheless, an audiobook is worth giving your ear to. If not anything else, it will keep you well-insulated from those seemingly clever music radio stations and their mind-numbing RJs and the singularly inane music that they dish out in between screams of sponsor company names and equally mind-numbing advertisements. Enjoy, ladies and gentlemen.

If you haven’t yet checked out my Twitter or Facebook stream, you have missed the noise (alright, whimper) about In Good Books.
In Good Books aims to be a site where you (yes, you precisely) can talk about a book you have loved or hated.

And if you haven’t read any book in the recent past, no problem. We’ve got you covered too. Just head over to www.InGoodBooks.com to check out the recommendations!

More about InGoodBooks here: http://www.ingoodbooks.com/about/

As always, feedback solicited. And welcome.

PS: Don’t go by the title of this post. We don’t review only Booker winners. We are also willing to allow you to talk about Five Point Someone. Yeah, we are that open about it.

Quick update: My book “Neumonia and Other Sketch Stories” is now available on Rediff.

The book is shipped in 3 days and you also get Rs. 25 off the original price!

Click here to order now!

Some details about the book here: www.sketchstories.com

Dai Sijie’s Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress is a book that neatly conforms to the phrase ‘poetry in motion’. Set in the times of the Chinese cultural revolution, when every educated youth was sent to the villages to get “re-educated” by the peasants, this book unfolds magically and just as youthfully as its protagonists.

Luo and Ma are two lads from the city whose parents have been classified as “enemies of the people” solely because they were educated doctors. Banished from the city, Luo and Ma find themselves in a village in the mountainous district of Yongjing. The book opens with a beautiful frame of the two kids being inspected by a crowd of peasants led by the village headman. I use the word frame because this book paints pictures very well in your mind. After all that is the quality of literary excellence – to tear away from the boundaries of prose and instead sketch moments in the reader’s mind.

One such moment is during the inspection when the peasants discover that these two kids possess a violin – clearly a Western instrument and hence blasphemous. Luo decides that Ma should play the violin and this act might make the peasants happy. He announces that Ma will play a Mozart sonata. To this, the village headman warily asks what is a sonata. Ma replies that it is a Western song. This raises the vigilante mode of the headman and he insists on knowing the name of the song. “Mozart….,” Ma manages to mutter and the headman snaps at him in anger asking him to name the song. At this crucial juncture, Luo calmly slips in and says that the song’s name is “Mozart Is Thinking of Chairman Mao”. Relief sets in all around, the headman smiles, nods to himself and replies, “Mozart is thinking of Chairman Mao all the time.” With that sweeping sentence he has just answered all questions about Mozart’s loyalty.

As Luo and Ma settle down to work in the fields, they discover and befriend another young boy from the city who has been sent to be “re-educated” to one of their neighbouring villages. This young boy, nicknamed Four-Eyes, has a secret – he is carrying with him a suitcase full of Western books. Through him, Luo and Ma are exposed to the French writer Balzac’s Ursule Mirouet. Luo and Ma read this book through the night and are fascinated about how it exposes them to worlds far away, to thoughts and emotions completely alien to them. Luo and Ma are now addicted – they want all the books from Four-Eyes. At around the same time, they meet the village tailor’s daughter – the beautiful little Chinese seamstress. A country girl, Luo and Ma both fall in love and take it upon themselves to “educate” her via the works of Balzac. Luo’s natural flair for story-telling is put to good use and she takes to Balzac like the proverbial fish does to water. Then one day, when Four-Eyes earned the permission to return to the city, Luo, Ma and the seamstress decide to steal the suitcase of books. After all, they couldn’t think of a life without Balzac!

Their lives become intertwined around works of Flaubert, Gogol, Melville, Romain Rolland and Alexander Dumas. The works of these master writers influence the three to such a large extent that their lives get changed forever.

Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress is a breezy little book that talks about the importance of dreaming, the futility of oppression and, perhaps directly so, the influence of literature on a society. While Balzac may have influenced many of the greatest writers of world literature (including Dickens, Dostoyevsky, Kerouac among others), Dai Sijie’s book is also a wonderful piece of writing and is perhaps a fitting tribute to Balzac.

Two young army cadets wanting to break the ranks. One smart, the other a romantic. Two powerful army generals gambolling in power. One is the country’s president, and the other touted as the “second most powerful” person. The country is Pakistan, and in the backdrop is the war between the USSR, Afghanistan and the USA.
The president, General Zia, dies in a plane crash. Pak One smoulders on its final journey into a blast and a whimper. Who killed General Zia? The young army cadets? The second most powerful man? The CIA? The ISI? A crate of mangoes? Did blind Zainab have anything to do with it? Or the crow that flits across India and Pakistan depending on the weather?

Mohammed Hanif’s The Case of Exploding Mangoes is a thrilling page-turner. The protagonist, Ali Shigri, is an army cadet whose outlook towards life has a lot to do with his father, Colonel Shigri’s, alleged suicide. His compatriot, Obaid, is a fragile dreamer and clearly a misfit in the army. General Akhtar is the second most powerful man, heading the ISI and keeping a watch on everything of importance in his country. Then there is the US Ambassador, running his own games to fufill their motives beyond Pakistan and Afghanistan’s borders.

The people who would like Zia dead are quite a few in this fast-paced explosive novel. Who actually does it, and whether you come to know of it is something you need to dive into its pages to find out. Ali Shigri’s ponderings on life’s nuances and its unpleasantries are noteworthy in the context of the proceedings.

The Case of Exploding Mangoes might not be a literary achievement (perhaps because it does not wander its cause on topics like humanities and the war suffering?) but it more than surely is a read that leaves you thrilled on having witnessed (from the inside) one of history’s better kept secrets – the death of Gen. Zia-ul-Haq.

Dilip D’Souza’s Roadrunner is a travelogue that goes way beyond the usual duty of chronicling events and sights. Pick up the Roadrunner if you want to question your assumptions, your prejudices and your understanding of concepts like patriotism and communities. Pick it up if you want to get a clue on how a culture of a country gets defined, how that culture impacts the lives of the people.

The entire concept of he taking up this road journey through the US is an enviable thought. I have lived in that country for a very short while, and yet I was able to comprehend and relate to many of the concepts that Dilip touches upon.

One such topic is that of accessibility. Specifically, tennis courts. During my brief stay in the US, I was able to access the sport, learn it and play it every single day without having to spend a fortune (for the record, I had to discontinue the sport once I got back to Bangalore. Access is too expensive and seems to be reserved for the elite. Ofcourse, getting to tennis courts in the snarling traffic is a huge deterrent too). Second, I had such easy access to public libraries that I was able to read a wide variety of books there for a nominal fee. Most importantly, it was so easy to get around from one place to another. Dilip brings about this contrast in his own distinctive style which is a treat to read.

Then there are interesting details about The Cadillac Ranch and the Prada Marfa. The Cadillac Ranch, as the name suggests, is a place where rows of Cadillacs have been stuck head-down into the ground. Why, you might ask? Dilip asks a more poignant question, ‘Would a Fiat ranch have had the same impact as that of a Cadillac ranch?” Why? And why not? I thought to myself, “Was that something to do with the Cadillac being a home car? Is patriotism defined this way?”

It is the ability of this book to make you ask such questions to yourself that makes it a must read. Then there are the mystery lights at Marfa which have a strange air to it – a platform has been set up in this small non-descript town called Marfa from where in the distance you are supposed to be able to see mysterious lights. Dilip sees the headlights of cars and trucks in the distance snaking through the winding road, but another set of people on the platfom do see them as the famous mystery lights. Who is to deny them the pleasure? And why?

Dilip gets his share of interactions with various sections of the American society. He gets to be with the ‘Bikers of Christ’ at the Sturgis bike carnival, gets to drive a fireman’s truck  and what’s more – he even gets to play music at a blues bar! To add to this, he also gets to meet Obama (and to whom he offered his burger) during the presidential campaigns.

While there are many such events that occur during this trip of his, the thread that binds everything together is his quest for understanding patriotism, freedom and the concept of being ‘liberal’. Here is an Indian, a member of the world’s largest democracy, taking a hard look at a country which is his second home and which is also another large democracy. How does patriotism get defined in the US, how do its citizens define and ‘practice ‘ its patriotism. He then relates the same to incidents back home in India. Why are they different? Who is right? Who is wrong? Or does that really matter as long as every one is compassionate to their fellow human beings?

The Roadrunner is a great read – a book that dwells on many serious topics and makes you think – and is very neatly wrapped in the guise of a fun travelogue.

Buy Roadrunner on Flipkart by clicking here.

If you are in Delhi, then head straight to the World Book Fair at the Pragati Maidan. Why? Well, apart from the fact that it is the largest book fair in India, you need to head there to get a copy of my book of course.

Neumonia and Other Sketch Stories will be available at the Serene Woods stall S1/24 – Hall 3 – 5. Be there and make the world a better place.

If you are not in Delhi and are in Bangalore, head straight to the Oxford Bookstore to get your copy of the book.

If you are not in Delhi and not in Bangalore, oh well, hmmm.

A few days ago I wrote about my meeting with Dilip at the launch of his book, Roadrunner. Now, Dilip has also put up a nice post about the event and this blogger.

Read it here: Bloggers About Roadrunner.

To top it all, he has recommended my book. Now that makes up for the fact that I did not let him pay for my book.

Inclusive Planet, formerly called BookBole, is a platform that enables visually impaired readers from across the world to connect and share accessible content. We had covered BookBole in this article at The Better India.

I am happy to inform that my book is now available on Inclusive Planet and many of its visually and print impaired readers will get to read it.

Personally, I think Inclusive Planet is a wonderful initiative and in case you want to know more or contribute to their cause, you can visit their blog or just mail them at founders[at]inclusiveplanet[dot]com.

It was in 2004 that the Tsunami struck the shores of India and neighbouring countries. The devastation was huge and the loss was unaccountable.
The destruction on television was running in a wild loop, long after the Tsunami had done its work and bid adieu. Amidst all this, I started reading a barrage of blogs and websites that were constantly updating and writing about this natural disaster. One particular post that I read back then struck deep within. It questioned and shook my entire understanding of my fellow men, my country (as we define it) and my self. That post was written by someone who went by the name Dilip D’Souza. And the particular post was this one: TV, Tsunamis and Too Many Dead.

From then on, I became a fan of Dilip’s writings – his wit, his subtle way of reminding us of our wrongs, his simplicity and his philosophy. Even my book was perhaps infused with the flavour created by numerous re-readings of his works. It has been almost 5 years now since I read that first post and I have, almost, never missed a post or article of his.

A few weeks ago I learnt that he was going to be in Bangalore for the launch of his book, Roadrunner. There were three events organized in this city. The first one involved Rahul Dravid and Ramchandra Guha. I chose to skip this one – I didn’t want to attend an event where the crowd was going to be large (owing to a star cricketer). I chose the third event. It was at the Oxford Bookstore, where my book was launched a few months ago. Tagging along with Taksh (whom we had to carry along, irrespective of his future liking/disliking of literature), the Mrs. and I reached well in time to see Dilip in person for the first time.

It is an un-describable feeling to be able to put a face to all those numerous articles that you have read and pondered over. Dilip is not only a wonderful writer, he is an equally wonderful speaker as well. After the reading session and discussions, I stood behind others who had queued up to get their copy of Roadrunner signed by him. The Oxford staff by then had, to my pleasant surprise, recognised me and they fetched my book to hand it over to Shobha Narayan and Dilip. Before the event, a night before in fact, I had thought a lot about whether I should offer my book to Dilip, hoping that he would read and give me his feedback. Finally, I had decided to drop the idea – my book was nowhere near the kind of writings that Dilip creates with his play of words and thoughts. Neither was my book close to any of the wonderful books out there that people should be spending their time on. So, this was a complete surprise when I saw the Oxford staff member walking towards me with two copies of my book. And what took me aback (in a nice sort of way) further was that Dilip asked for my book to be signed. This was just not the way I had anticipated things to be. When Dilip heard my name he asked whether I was “Dhi Only One”, which is a former alias of this blog. Now that was indeed an honour to know that he had read this blog.

The Roadrunner, with its nice colorful cover, now resides on my bookshelf. And its first page has something which I am going to be proud of for a long time to come:

Ladies and gentlemen, do go and get a copy of the Roadrunner. It will be well worth your time. And you will also do well to follow this blog – Death Ends Fun. Enjoy.