My Top 10 Books

There was a book challenge going around, on Facebook. You list your 10 favourite books and nominate friends who you wanted to take up the challenge too. When I first heard of it, I desperately wanted someone to pick me. Unfortunately, it fizzled out. Maybe those in my friends' list just didn't do it because it came back on. Earlier today, a friend nominated me to list my top 10 books.

I didn't think it would be hard to choose 10 books. I was right, it wasn't hard to pick 10. The hard part was picking ONLY 10. There are so many books I love. There are different kinds of love I have, for books. So, how was I to choose?

I love some books so much that I could read them over and over again. I also love some books immensely but could never read them again. I love some books so much that I can't put them down while I read them. I may read them again but they don't leave a deep imprint in my mind. I've even gone through phases where I just love the author and read anything they wrote.

This was the list I came up with, in the end.

1) Jonathan Livingston Seagull - Richard Bach
2) Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
3) The Alchemist - Paulo Coelho
4) Black Beauty - Anna Sewell
5) The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo - Stieg Larsson
6) A Thousand Splendid Suns - Khaled Hosseini
7) The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins 
8) Harry Potter - J K Rowling
9) If You Could See Me Now - Cecelia Ahern
10) The Old Man and The Sea - Ernest Hemingway

With the exception of the last book, I have read these books more than once. They have each left an impression on me and I could easily read them all again. Maybe I could replace #10 with The Devil Wears Prada, as one that I would read again.

The Old Man and The Sea is an amazing piece of writing but it was heart-wrenching. I knew it would have a sad ending but it wasn't the kind I expected. It was like Hemingway didn't just pierce through the heart but decided to twist the knife as it went in. For just a story about a man who broke his dry spell of fishing with a big catch, it was quite an unputdownable narrative. I couldn't read it again.

I asked the husband if he'd like to list his top 10. He didn't. Then he went through my list and said, "Well, at least we have this in common. Your top 10 list is my top 10 too, except that they are your favourite and I hate them all".

Well said, husband, well said. Which couch would you like to sleep on, tonight?

The Scarecrow Series by Matthew Reilly

If you have not read Matthew Reilly's Scarecrow series and intend to, watch out for ***Spoiler Alert*** and skip those lines of text until you hit the next blank line.

It is as if Reilly has a load of these 'ideas' and can't decide which to use in his book, so he uses them all. Each one is better than the last one - faster, bigger, whackier, whatever. Every one of his books, including the promotional one makes an impact right from the start. 

He creates a line of history across each of them for those who read all the books in sequence, still maintaining an integrity that allows you to read each book as a standalone. There is a start, an end and enough punch in between that simply throws you into the midst of all the action before you get up and dust yourself out.

One thing I noticed is that he consistently maintains Shane Schofield, call-sign Scarecrow, on the defensive side of the attack. At the start of every action, well not right at the start but halfway through losing half his men but still the beginning of the attacks, Schofield tells his men that their aim is to "keep moving" to "stay alive". Every one of the Scarecrow books has that theme - staying alive. The books start with a certain mission at hand that goes awry and is filled with surprise attackers, modern technology (as modern as the book can get i.e. the next book has something more modern than the last, noticeable if you read it in sequence), disobedient Marines or infiltrators in his team. 

The books follow a general blueprint without each being the same book. It is as if the blueprint keeps the books under one canopy even as they can be detached from the previous or the next one. The action scenes are different in all. 

***Spoiler Alert*** 

Take Gina 'Mother' Newman, for example. She is one hell of a survivor but her methods are entirely different each time. She survives the worst of the offenders and near-death scenes in all the books, not once repeating tricks. The tactics and techniques used the Marines are different in all the books. They blend with the situation and, without standing out, become life-savers for one or more Marines, almost always involving the Scarecrow. In one, I learnt about the Sydney Harbour Bridge action of the Maghook, another spoke of the leapfrog technique. He just has so many different kinds of unique action scenes under his belt. 

Another remarkable thing is the Bond-like license that Schofield has, the freedom to blow up buildings and cause massive destruction. In fact, that is his trademark. The books carry that on rather proudly. In fact, in Scarecrow, there is a time when Mother asks him about the destruction he has caused, while they patch up over their headphones. When she arrives at the castle in France and sees the damage, she knows Schofield has been there. It is that liberty that adds much flavour to the drama. It is like salt in your food. No matter what else you add, if there isn't a pinch of salt, the food never tastes the same. (Note: No spoiler alert here because it is a fairly insignificant detail that reveals itself in the early stages, as the story unfolds)

In the end of a book, Schofield survives. You know that. There would not be a series if he did not. Except for the last book, where you do not know whether he survives. Yet, you can't help wondering if something might go wrong, if someone else (like Mother, who seems to outlast everyone else in his team) might die. Reilly has, from time to time, shown that none of his characters are safe. It is his secret weapon to keep the readers on their toes, to be unpredictable.

 ***Spoiler Alert*** 

When he killed Libby 'Fox' Gant in Scarecrow, it was heartbreaking. The story was heading somewhere, with a hint of a loveline when suddenly he yanks the cord and snaps it off. I kept waiting to find out she had survived it somehow, even when I knew that the Knight had seen her head being cut off. It is a book, poetic license, she could come back - that's what I kept thinking. However, he kept it real. He did not use his poetic license there. It added to the reliability of the story. Added to the flavour of the drama. It brought out emotions his earlier books had not.

Schofield's mission is never what it started off with. In all the 4 books of the series, it is the same deal. Reilly does not lose time getting to the point. Buckle up and arrive at the destination. Bam! Yet, each one is different in some ways. When he is finished, it is not merely the end of an action but a final say in a story. Somehow, Reilly manages that. 

 ***Spoiler Alert*** 

In one, he just goes back home alive, another he tries to saves the President of the US, in another he foils an explosive plan by the negative protagonists of the book. There is always a purpose, always something that was righted in the end. By the time you reach the last book, you might expect him to go on another purposeful mission that goes haywire. Hell, no! The mission itself is to right something that has gone haywire. If I thought it was because the book was, as someone told me, a 'promotional' attempt, he proved me wrong. There was a twist towards the end. Then another, so he could end it with the Scarecrow series signature.

Another common thing in all of the books was the presence of scientists and their fantastic, ultra-modern, secret experiments. There is the appearance of at least one non-Marine in their midst that may or may not live to tell the tale. One that helps them where they have no knowledge or leads them on to something. One that could be a burden while they are trying to save their own lives but it all fits in snugly. The backdrop of the story is the United States and the fact that it is a Superpower. I was impressed with the research and the wealth of information, albeit he has professed to using a fair bit of poetic license. Initially, I wondered why an Australian chose to write about the US army. By the end of the series, I knew the answer. That is where the canvas is the vast as the sky, allowing for the most creative, not to mention powerful, imagination to unfurl. 

Whether it is the regular novel-sized story that the first three were or the slim book that Hell Island was, there are all the elements that make Reilly's books what they are. Powerful and racing like a bullet.

Marley and Me

Marley And Me. Life and love with the world's worst dog. Straight on the shelf of my all-time favourite books.

This is not a book review, although God knows it's a must read for everyone, dog lovers and others alike. It adds to life's beautiful memories!

John Grogan has amazing writing skills. In Marley And Me, he brings his story to life, right in front of your eyes. I never felt like I was reading a book, I was watching it unfold before me. I know, for a fact, that I could neer watch the movie and feel the same, no matter how well it might have been made.

As I turned every page, I laughed at Marley's antics, stressed when the family went out leaving him alone at home, hated it when they put him in a kennel to go on vacations, love the walks he took, felt embarassed when he ran off with the table at the alfresco dining (all to sniff a poodle's genitalia). I could feel myself stiffen as Grogan described Marley stepping into the threshold of old age. Each time he discovered a failing function in Marley, I sensed something heavy in my heart. Why was this happening?

The Grogans lived an ordinary life. There was not a single incident in the book that was unusual or special, unless Marley was involved. Yet, not at one line did I get bored. I could read on and on, as Grogan talked of Marley's life year after year. I'm sure he has lots of funny, crazy and tearful memories stocked up, enough to fill another half a dozen books if he wished. I don't know if he picked the best of them or just wrote with the flow of the moment. It is most likely the latter.

Many times, as I read, I remembered my own first dog Sonu. He was no competition to Marley as far as being the world's worst dog went. No doubt he might have been a frequent visitor at the club, though. We loved him to bits, bossy and all. He was definitely the alpha male in the family. He refused to learn lessons he didn't want to. In some ways, there was a stark difference between him and Marley. He was disciplined and as he grew up, he was less and less a puppy. Devoted, no doubt. He understood the moods of people

When I read the bit about Marley comforting Jenny during one of her difficult pregnancies, it tugged at my heart. The warmest memories I have, of Sonu, are those times when he was just there for me, comforting me, always understanding. That's what I've missed most over the years. I still carry a picture of him, wherever 'home' is, for me. The decision to put him down was the hardest ever and he saved us the trouble by simply giving himself up. It hurt.

The last few pages of the book drove so close to home that I couldn't put down the book until I'd read to the last line. I didn't have a laptop at the time of writing this blog, so I wrote on paper, scribbling as furiously as my thoughts flew. I had to write. It is my tribute to Marley. And Sonu.

Reading Marley And Me makes me miss my own 11-year old back home. Pangs of guilt strike, as I think of my decision to leave her behind and chase after new experiences. She is a part labrador too but one of the most well-behaved dog I have ever had. Her obsession for food is no less than Marley's but she has none of the loony behaviour. The arthritis. The 'Mary's little lamb' act. Check. Check.

As the husband and I go through the same phase as John & Jenny, watching our 11-year old puppy in her retirement years, I notice how she too has her bad days when she needs help to get on the stairs and lots of good days when we wonder if she is really that old. Gone are those days when we tried to get her off our bed and sleep on hers in the lounge. Now, we hug her if she can leap onto it or get off by herself. Sometimes, she manages the leap but the jump down gives her the jitters. Not without reason, it is painful on her bones. How many times hasn't she collapsed when her hips gave way, trying to climb the stairs? Yet, we know that she has some more time to go. A few years, at least. Her eyes and ears, every other sense is as sharp as ever. She is still a puppy in so many ways.

Her name is Lucky. What a coincidence that Marley's story ends with the Grogans looking at an ad for a labrador retriever named Lucky too. As notorious as Marley was, probably?

I wonder what Xigris and George are up to. I wish I could cuddle them just now. On the other hand, what wouldn't I give to have Lucky sniffing around the house, fussing for food, right here with me?

Dogs. They make life so beautiful!

Beginner's luck?

I join the organization and within a week, they take me to an Indian restaurant. For someone missing Indian food and wondering if there are any authentic restaurants around, the Punjabi Palace is fantastic. When it's free, nothing like it. Some NZ wine to go with it... white wine... and there begins my affair with wine in Australia. Now I know what people mean when they say wine is 'cheap' in Australia. The beer's fine too, I guess, but I'm not qualified to comment on the quality of alcohol so I won't. I mean... I think the beer's fine, the husband is not happy. In a colleague's words, "Australian beer is barely fit to wash my hands with". Ouch!

Now, the boat cruise. The awesome Kookaburra River Queen. Bloody hell, could I ask for a better team building event? The entire team, all-inclusive, a-ha! So looking forward to it. So is everyone. 

As things fall into place one by one, everything just works itself out. Even before I realize it, I'm planning travels I've been looking forward to, for ages. I'm even enjoying cooking like never before, not to mention the weather. I can't say it often enough, the weather is simply superb! No wonder everyone mentioned the weather when they first heard where I was going. 

What was that Coelho said about the universe conspiring to make things happen?

"When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream"

A Poison Tree by William Blake

The last in my poem series for this month. William Blake.

I was angry with my friend;

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,

Night and morning with my tears:

And I sunned it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole.

When the night had veiled the pole;

In the morning glad I see,

My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.

A Cup Of Comfort For Friends by Colleen Sell

I was at the Crossword book store last week. After I paid for my books and while I was waiting for the husband to finish his shopping, I picked up a copy of A Cup Of Comfort For Friends and browsed through it. 

The book is one of those anthology from various people's lives. I generally do not enjoy such books and would never read them twice. I still bought this one because I loved the introduction, a couple of things the author said and quoted in there. I'm going to use this blog to list out some of the things that stood out for me. 

Friendship is precious, not only in the shade, but in the sunshine of life - Thomas Jefferson


... we tend to squeeze each other into whatever slots are left over after the other people and responsibilities in our lives get their share.
Amazingly, our friends understand. They patiently wait their turn and graciously accept whatever time and attention we give them. They're always there when we need them, and they forgive us when we're slow to recognize their needs. Such is the nature of friendship--true friendships.


A friendship can weather most things and thrive in thin soil; but it needs a little mulch of letters and phone calls and small, silly presents every so often--just to save it from drying out completely - author Pam Brown

Their gifts say that these lovely people love me. In the midst of their busy lives, they think of me. They've made the effort to know me, to reach out to me, to make memories with me--not out of dury or familial fate, but because they chose me. 


The story My Jar Of Self Esteem talks about a friend who helped another build her self-esteem by giving her a little jar with numerous notes telling her how she is special


The story In Praise Of Temporary Friends is about a woman who does not have any life-term friends but has learnt to appreciate all the ones that have been there while they have. 


I have always envied other women's friendships. It's not that I don't have any friends. I do. But I don't have a friend that I can call at four in the morning, who would hop on the next plane to come hold my hand through disasters great and small. I don't have a friend I've known for so many years I can't remember life without her. I don't have a friend who knows all my secrets. 


I can relate to this so well. Yet, as I read on, I realized that I was better off than her. I have had friends who have lasted me a couple of years atleast and been there for me when I needed them, kept my secrets and life was beautiful with them while they were with me. That doesn't change how I feel about friends forever. 


I wrote this blog a long while ago and forgot to post it. Am gonna post it now, without any changes. The book, while was a good read in the first few pages (to past half the book, actually), gets a little boring and dull later. It's not a repeatably readable one either. One of my give-away books.

Whatta Way To Start My Day

A bowl of cereal... 

Some fruit...

A delightful breakfast and a silly lyric to go with it. Whatta way to start my day!

The Hitchhikers Guide 

To The Galaxy

Is but a ride 

In an airborne taxi

It does not gimme direction

Nor tell me what place,

Without an explanation

Absolutely no grace

Pity I feel for Mr. Dent

Stuck with Zaphod and Trillian,

Ford with a fake human bent

In a dream in a million

They have the Answer

But what is the Great Question?

Forty-two says the dabbler

Leaving 'em all in a spin

More to read, to go on

So seemingly endless it is...

What a way

To start my day!

Mark As Read

Three books this weekend, all different genres. Matthew Reilly's contest (loved it), Nishant Kaushik's romantic chaos (not bad) and Agatha Christie's 13 problems. At this rate, I might just finish the pile of unopened books in my shelf. The thought of something like that happening in the near future excites me! I am trying hard not to remember that it also means I will need to buy new books for my new life in Australia. 

I am one of those people that hate too many unread emails in my mailbox. Unread email means things to get done, work that is incomplete. That nags the life out of me. I just have to read the emails, tie a bow around the task and wind up. Tomorrow is another day. No, I cannot just mark emails as read and attend to the task later. I forget. So, I need the ugly dark coloured email, sneering at me each time I open my mailbox, reminding me of the mammoth list of tasks ahead. I am so used to this routine that on the rare no-email days, I go crazy. I get restless and fidgety. 

As a long-standing member of the OCD club, I have many such fetishes. Do you have any that drive you crazy? Is there something that you must do or you lose your sleep over it? 

A Romance With Chaos by Nishant Kaushik

Why are all Indian English authors North Indians? No, I'm not complaining. It is just an observation. This is one of the better Indian authors I've read in English, though. The language is not bad. After reading numerous Indian English books and wanting to slam my head against the wall, this one is readable. Of course, it's nothing like when the native English write but hey...! Nishant uses a few 'big words' in his book but they are all  almost well-placed, so while they manage to overwhelm you a bit, they are not exactly obnoxious.

The story itself is another one of those. Sigh! All these writer boys want to talk about either (a) college life or (b) the world of IT (in the broad sense, covering BPOs, software, and anything that widely uses computers). The book has all the common ingredients - a job that the protagonist hates, a side-kick, some back-stabbing and reconciliation, more girls, someone has a wife, how the world that they live in (education/corporate job) sucks and a hospital scene chucked in for a bit of emotion. There is a bit of a deviation in the twists in the tale, thus making the book readable. Once readable, though. I read it and I chucked it.

Although I did say earlier that the language was not bad, there is something amiss with the grammar but it is hard to name it. I read it and I know it was written by an Indian. A North Indian, to be precise. That much of a give-away means that something is not perfect enough. Thankfully, it has been edited (unlike the last book I read). 

He leaves a string or two untied in the end, which is disappointing. As a writer, I would expect you to tell me what happens to each character in the story. 

I would not swear by the book. It is not one of my favourites. Nowhere close. Considering that he belongs to a different professional stream and has written a book by the side, he is definitely good. Not many of us can write something that others would want to read, let alone pay for it. 

My verdict: If you don't read it, you're not missing anything. If you do, it would not entirely be a time waster.

Contest by Matthew Reilly

This is my first Matthew Reilly book. Like so many other books and authors I've read, influenced by fellow-readers, I picked this up because a friend of mine has read this author. Curiosity. I was pretty sure that the husband would like it, even if I did not. He read the book before me and guess what? I was right. He liked it. So did I. 

I am looking for a picture of the book, for my blog, as I write. Why is it that I can never find a cover page like the one I actually own? Is it because it is printed in India? Annoying! I hate deviating from actuals. 

Moving on to the book. It is a very visual story. It has lots of big creatures, running, chasing, explosions and loud noises. It reminds one of the movie Jurassic Park. Rightly so, because when I read an excerpt from an interview with Reilly later, he says he was inspired to write by the book Jurassic Park when he was younger. He also says that he likes writing books with huge animals (animal-like creatures) and lots of adrenalin-pumping drama, including chases and survival. 

The book starts off with an introduction to the New York State Library. Then, an introduction to the Presidian (although, you will not recognize it until later). Next is an introduction to Dr. Stephen Swain. Once it gets here, the story leaps forward as Dr. Swain is teleported in to the NYSL, where a dangerous, universal (and I mean universal i.e. including aliens from other worlds) contest is about to take place. Dr. Swain is the chosen one from the human world, to take place in the contest, and the NYSL is the chosen location. The location is heavily protected by a large electric field which no contestant can pass through, to get out, after being brought into the arena. 

Once inside, the surprised Swain learns the rules of the contest from a 4-foot alien, dressed in white. Reilly does not introduce all the contestants at one go. In fact, he does not wait to introduce them all, before he proceeds with the story. As you turns pages, you encounters participants, scenes, deaths, survival and all the experiences associated with the Presidian. Dr. Swain's fight for survival is a challenge for various reasons other than not being aware of or prepared for the Contest. That makes the adventure more exciting. Nail-biting. 

Reilly also covers various aspects of the contest, in a gripping fashion. All that is explained to Swain is covered in the book. And more. Surprises! The book is one of those unputdownable ones. It is like watching the Jurassic Park and not wanting to take a pee-break because you might miss something important. Of course, you can always come back to where you left off because it is a book but I simply could not do that!

There are some unexpected turns and 'contaminations' to the integrity of the contest, the library and the original plan charted out for the contest. That is what makes it even more interesting. Does Swain emerge as survivor of the contest? If he does, how does he manage it, with his ignorance of the game against the well-prepared opponents? If he does not, then who does? What happens next?

The book is a good read and one that I might read again later, even though I know the end result. I cannot wait to pick up Reilly's next book. His introduction says Contest was not his best book. Maybe so. It may also have been influenced, in some ways, by similar stories from Hollywood. I wonder what his later books have. For now, I have picked up Sophie Kinsella's Shopaholic Abroad. I need to finish my stack of unread books before I buy another one. Some speed reading in progress now...

Nine On Nine by Nandita C. Puri

Front Cover Drawing by Khushwant Singh

A courier arrived yesterday morning, from Citibank, bringing me the book I had ordered in exchange for my reward points, many weeks ago. The moment I saw that it was a series of short stories and that the author was the wife of an Indian actor, I was put off. I am not so keen on reading short stories and I presumed that it might be another case of wannabe writing or the rich being able to publish anything they write. The appraisals by Shobaa De and Khushwant Singh or the foreword by Gulzar meant nothing to me. Of course, they were friends from the industry, what is the big deal?

After I finished reading A Case Of Exploding Mangoes, I picked up this book. I read the first story and was surprised to find it good. Then another and another, within an hour and some time later I had finished all the nine stories in the book. I would not recommend this as a great read. I might not have bought it if I had walked into a book store. It is not a worthless piece but I would read it only once. Priced at Rs.295, one is probably better off walking past the bookshelf. 

Nandita seems to have a fair command over the English language and a flair for writing that I have found lacking in so many Indian writers. However, the stories are nothing unusual. They are little narrations of events she may have seen in real life and she chose to tweak them a bit to make stories out of them. The stories towards the end of the book reduce in quality as compared to the earlier ones. The reviews, foreword and feedback all are from friends. I guess if I made a book of my blog posts or wrote a series of short stories based on events in my real life and had my close social circle appraise it for me, I could come up with something like this. I might not have priced it so high, though, my conscience would not allow me that!

It is not a book that would remain on my bookshelf. After I read it, I thrust it in the box that has the books I want to sell to a second-hand book store. Desperate to improve the quality of books I have been reading, I have now picked up Contest by Matthew Reilly as my next book. Let us see what it does to me...

A Case Of Exploding Mangoes by Mohammed Hanif

I bought this book out of curiosity one day. After a series of Indian authors that bored me, I decided to find out what Pakistani writing was like. Why do good writers only have to be from English-speaking countries?

Apparently a comic novel, I found in it a little too much rambling. It took me a long while and numerous breaks to read it. The breaks were mostly because it was read in buses, autos and on the toilet seat. However, it did not excite me enough to sit with it continuously and read to the end. The reviews at the back of the book that exclaim 'Unputdownable' and 'Gripping', didn't really apply to me.

The core of the story is the death General Muhammad Zia-Ul-Haq, the Chief Of Army and President of Pakistan. It is supposed to be based on a real life plane crash involving the General and the various conspiracy theories surrounding his death. 

This book is in the form of a narration by Under Office Ali Shigri with the Pakistan Air Force, who seeks revenge for the death of his father Chief Shigri, written off as having hung himself. He talks about his friend Obaid (nicknamed Baby O) and their life in the army, in phases, as it goes back and forth between his current predicament and flashbacks into his past. Parallely, he relates the life of General Zia, his fears, various associations and events that eventually lead to the death of the General.

Even as one reaches the end of the story, there is uncertainty as to what caused his death. Was it Shigri's sword that introduced a deadly poison in his blood? Was it General Akhtar's treason and an accidental release of VX in the presidential aircraft via the air-conditioning? Was there something more than just mangoes in the 'gift' sent by the All Pakistan Mango Farmers' Association? Did General Beg have something to do with the death? Like the various conspiracy theories that exist in reality, Hanif leaves open ends surrounding the General's death, except for confirming that he most certainly died in that plane crash, along with some others.

It was not one of my best reads. It is not bad but I would not recommend it as a good read either. Definitely not something that would stay in my bookshelf. 

Aside: The picture in this blog is not what my book looked like. It is a white cover with a plane in B&W, the tail splashed with red indicating the crash. Strangely, I found more than a couple of cover pictures for this book but no sign of the one that I had. 

This Weekend

It's been one hell of a weekend! 

No riding and that feels awful. In fact, no exercise all of last week and I feel like I've missed a major exam! When did that happen to me?

After a very long while, I spent an entire afternoon in the balcony reading and finishing a book in one shot. It hasn't happened in so long that I don't remember the last time that happened. Then, I finished another book! 

The weather in Bengaluru seems to have improved. It's still very hot at nights but there's a slight wind in the air, always and that makes the heat bearable in the balconies.

Cleaned the book-shelf and loved spending so much time with my books. Found a handful that I either hate or just know that I'll never read again (unfortunately the Starbucks book is one of them... loved it but won't read again). Earlier when I used to go on a books cleaning spree, I'd always find money hidden in my books (can't remember why I did that but I always did, as a child). At times, I've found upto a couple of thousand bucks. Today, I emptied all my bags, piggy banks and cleaned everything out... found a whopping eleven grand in 1000, 500, 100, 50, 20, 10 and 5 rupee notes! My husband couldn't believe what he was seeing... obviously, it's the first time he's done this with me... mum wasn't surprised!

Made a raisin-and-nut ice-cream dessert for my husband, to appreciate his help with all the cleaning. He was happy but didn't binge on the ice-cream. I have a cold, I didn't eat any ice-cream. This is a miracle. Normally, we're both quarreling for the tub like six-year-olds! 

Somewhere in the midst of all this, I heard a rumour about myself. I found it so funny that I almost felt like fanning the fire myself. Did not. Atleast, I think I did not.

A number of unusual but normal events, sort of happy surprises this weekend. It's been one hell of a weekend!

How Starbucks Saved My Life by Michael Gates Gill

When I first read the title, it sounded like a story of someone who started working at Starbucks and went on to become somebody in life, possibly a writer (he wrote this book, after all). Or maybe he was struck by a sudden inspiration while sipping coffee in Starbucks one day. I wondered if I cared to buy a book like that.

Then I read the punch-line that went with the title - "The Riches-to-Rags Story of a Man Who Had It All, Then Lost It All and Found It Again". At this point, I decided it was a narration of how a rich man who was driven to the point of bankruptcy and rose again after a stint at Starbucks. Hmm, maybe I should read it, I thought. Books like that have a lot of positive attitude in them, if nothing else.

I turned to the back cover to read the synopsis and see if that would help me decide. It starts off with the following excerpt. I bought the book home, just for a feel for some die-hard attitude and aggressive behaviour, which I was sure the book would be full of.

"A candid, moving and inspirational memoir about a high-flying businessman who is forced to re-evaluate his life and values when he suddenly loses everything and goes to work in Starbucks."

Since the day I bought the book until I started reading it today (because I badly needed some positive reinforcement), I was pretty sure that the book would be an inspirational tale of rising from a fall, back to an earlier glory or more. Why I thought that, is beyond me. The book clearly says it is a "Riches-to-Rags" story.

As the punchline and the title aptly suggest, it's the story of Michael Gates Gill, born to an affluent family and now, working as a barista at Starbucks in the late years of his life. Born to a celebrity-like dad who worked at a newspaper in New York, partying with the Queen & poets like Ernest Hemingway, Robert Frost, etc and studying at Yale, getting into an advertising job straight out of college and quickly moving up the ladder, Gates' life is one of comfort and luxury. He has a good family, with four children, and a good life.

When he gets fired by a young executive, who he helped move up in life, he knows she had to chose between firing him to prove her loyalty and macho business sense or getting emotional and screwing up her career prospects. Knowing does not change facts or help the feeling. He had given 25 years of his life and his loyalty to JWT but now, at 53, he was not part of their young brigade agenda. 

His hopes to start a career in consulting remain an unfulfilled dream, long after his severance package has depleted and he ends up broke. In addition to this, his attempt to distract himself from his problems in the form of exercise/gym, lead him to meet the woman he ends up in an affair with and bears him a son. When he confronts his wife and children with the news, divorce follows and the wife gets to keep their house and four children. 

As Gates says in the book, his baby Jonathan remains his only friend for a long while after that, for Jonathan's mother soon loses interest in Gates as his availability for her increases post his divorce. 

With no job, no family and no money, it was a stroke of good luck that Gates meets Crystal, his African-American boss at Starbucks. An unexpected, unprepared interview, some stressful days of waiting later, he finds himself with a job he feels completely unqualified for. He talks about how he finds his way around at Starbucks, with an altogether different culture - a young crowd with an average age of 20, a group of African-Americans (the kind he had, in his old-fashioned sense, stayed away from in his better days). As he cuts through a new world and finally "gets it", he finds satisfaction and an acceptance he realizes he had never felt in his richer days.

He talks of how he starts with a cleaning job and gets excited at his first real clean bathroom work, learning to pull the till, handle guests and become one of the legendary Partners (what the people who work at Starbucks are called) at Starbucks. Finding acceptance in his 4 children, living with a hearing problem caused by a tiny tumour in his head, enjoying the family he finds at Starbucks, Gates is so full of his new life that it comes through in his book. 

The book is one long narration of his excitement at his new-found life, his everyday life at the first Starbucks at Ninety-Three and Broadway where it all started. Reading the book is like listening to an old man gush excitedly about his new job, every single thing he learns in the new job and how much he enjoys it. There is no entertainment, no grand examples of risks taken and masterstrokes leading to the rise of a great empire. Just an old man, chattering about his time at the Broadway Starbucks. As I read it, it felt like I was sitting at a table at Starbucks, across an old man in his seventh decade, happily talking and I did not want to interrupt.

I've finished the book and old Mr. Mike has gone back to work at his Starbucks store somewhere in New York. Funny coincidence that just a couple of days ago, I was thinking of what it would be to have a few months off and be able to do something totally different from my current job, something not for money but for a slice of a different kind of life. Today, Mike introduced me to the inside of a coffee house.

Oh Shit Not Again! by Mandar Kokate

One of the worst books I've ever read by the worst author ever. The book, clearly, has not been through a single round of review by anyone who speaks a decent level of English and definitely no sign of having been put through an editor of any kind. 

The most apt thing about the book is it's title 'Oh Shit Not Again!' (by the way, notice the incorrect grammar in the title). I read the book and thought, "Oh shit, not again!". The book has all the ingredients that could be conjured up (or copied from numerous others) by a wannabe writer who has read little and thinks he can fly with words because a bunch of his friends said so. 

I've read a number of Indian authors of this generation and most of them have the same stuff, in more or less same words - ogling at girls, alcohol binges - but this one is so over himself that he tries to portray himself as a hero.  For instance, there is one bit where he tries to help a woman who suffers from a cheating husband and eventually gets divorced. He further tries to 'save' her by accepting her proposal of marriage. At the age of 20, there is no mention of him being in college or working, all he seems to do is loiter with a group of kids who do the same as himself i.e. nothing. 

The language used is the worst form of English ever! He tries to use words that he probably found in the dictionary or synonyms for common words that he got off the internet, for the usage is mostly inappropriate and he obviously has not the faintest idea about it. He constantly uses wrong grammar - the one that peeved me most is 'discuss about' - aaarrrgggghhhh!!! 'To discuss' is 'to talk about', so 'discuss about' is 'talk about about'. 

When a so-called Youth Icon, Mr. Chetan Bhagat, whose books sell like hot-cakes from the day they are sold out, sells his books at 90 bucks, it is amazing that Mr. Mandar Kokate has priced his book at Rs. 150. The cover of the book is a bit colourful and the back of it makes one hopeful that the book maybe worth reading. I made one of my worst investments on a book with this one. My brother bought a copy too, making it a wastage of 300 bucks in the family. 

I'm done ranting. If anybody wants to read this book, I'm happy to lend it for free. That's before I try to sell it for half or less than half the price at a used-books store when I'm headed there next. 

Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart by Dr. Gordon Livingston

One of my Christmas presents this year was a book called 'Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart: Thirty True Things You Need to Know Now', by Gordon Livingston, with a foreword by Elizabeth Edwards. Dr. Livingston is a physician, psychiatrist and writer. Edwards is one of those he met on an online bereaved parents forums and has drawn strength from him to reclaim her life. 

It's one of the best books I have ever read. I'm still reading it but I wanted to write about it. Dr. Livingston gives a fresh perspective to so many things. Some of the things he said were new to me, some simply surprised me by the obvious nature of it and how I'd failed to see. The chapters are named such that you only need to read the contents page for a host of quotes to think about. Edwards' foreword makes good reading, makes you wonder if you will get the same benefits out of this book that she did. 

You don't need to be suffering to read Dr. Livingston's book, he just steers you to look in another direction. Each person could get something else to take away from each chapter, often not what the title says. I tweeted one such, from each chapter of the book and am reproducing it here. I've copied from Twitter, so you need to read backwards (starting from the last occurrence of 'bumblebee' to the first, which is from chapter 18).

bumblebee Ch18. There is nothing more pointless, or common, than doing the same things and expecting different results! bumblebee ...hope, chance, intuition, and a willingness to be surprised.  


bumblebee (contd) Often it is the dalliances and the detours that define us. There are no maps to guide our most important searches; we must rely on...  


bumblebee  Ch16. Though a straight line appears to be the shortest distance between two points, life has a way of confounding geometry. (contd)  


bumblebee Ch15. The process of building has always been slower and more complicated (i.e. less immediately satisfying) than that of destruction.  


bumblebee (contd)... people fall out of love, the demands for explanation are insistent.  


bumblebee  Ch14. It seems ironic that when people fall in love, no justification for their attachment is necessary. When, on the other hand... (contd)  


bumblebee Instead I ask them to examine what it is that has so far dissuaded them from killing themselves.  


bumblebee Ch13 Suicide is the ultimate expression of preoccupation with self. When confronted with a suicidal person I dont try to talk them out of it...  


bumblebee ... of inestimable value to those who survive us.  


bumblebee Ch12. (Old age) If we can retain our good humor and interest in others even as the curtain closes, we'll have contributed something...  


bumblebee Ch11. We simply pay too much attention to words - ours and others' - and not enough to the actions that actually define us.  


bumblebee ...our different roles demand different attitudes.  


bumblebee ...worker, partner, parent, friend, is a challenge. We think of ourselves as the same person whatever we may be doing at the moment. But...  


bumblebee Ch10. A certain amt of compartmentalization in necessary to succeed in different areas of our lives. Juggling our mutual responsibilities...  


bumblebee Ch9. Life is a gamble in which we don't get to deal the cards, but are nevertheless obligated to play them to the best of our ability.  


bumblebee The best hope is to introduce them to the paradox of perfection: in some settings (relationships), we gain control only by relinquishing it.  


bumblebee ... can render them insufferable in their personal lives. To be less controlling in their jobs would render them ineffective.  


bumblebee Ch8. The problem with perfectionists and their pre-occupation with control is that the qualities that make them effective in their work...  


bumblebee Ch7. I did my best to fit in. I just got tired of it.  


bumblebee (contd)... to alter their behaviour in ways that allow them to exert greater control over their lives.  


bumblebee Ch6. While medication can provide crucial, sometimes live-saving relief, people also have an obligation... (contd)  


bumblebee Ch5. While it takes two people to create a relationship, it only takes one to end it.  


bumblebee Ch4 Finally, if a person I'm talking to appears wedded determinedly to the past and unwilling to contemplate a better future, I grow impatient.  


bumblebee Ch3. Many are the ways that parents instill a sense of obligation in their children. In fact, our children owe us nothing.  


bumblebee Ch2. He says, "Past behaviour is the most reliable predictor of future behaviour" What about when people change? How do we acknowledge that?  


bumblebee Ch2: We love someone when the importance of his or her needs and desires (to us) rises to the level of our own.  


bumblebee Ch1: If the map doesn't agree with the ground, the map is wrong.  


bumblebee 18 chapters. Want to write one best line from each. Let me try. It's gonna be harder when there are more than one lines...

Maybe when I'm done with the book, I'll pull out a line from the rest of the chapters. 

You can read this book as many times as you want and still be touched by it. The quotes above won't spoil the book for you, if you ever mean to read it, just like Dr. Livingston's titles didn't change what I would take away from his observations. 

I'll end this by quoting one of the reviewers/readers of Dr. Livingston's book(s). Mark Helprin, author of the books A Soldier Of The Great War and Winter's Tale says about Dr. Gordon Livingston, "To read him is to trust him and to learn, for his life has been touched by fire, and his motives are absolutely pure."

The Winner Stands Alone by Paulo Coelho

I am not a very fast reader but even for me, this book took awfully long to read. It didn't help that I was not able to read it in one or two long sittings. I started reading it a few weeks back and did a few pages each day, and unable to read on some days. Yesterday, I decided to sit down until I finished the book at any cost and there ended my beautiful Sunday. All morning, all afternoon, all evening and until 9PM at night, I read and I read and I read. My only consolation is that a friend of mine who has started reading the book a few weeks ago is facing the same fate.

When I first read the title, and Paulo Coelho's style being somewhat philosophical, I had assumed that this book might touch upon leadership qualities or talk about great success or great people. No such thing to look forward to in The Winner Stands Alone. If you have watched the movie Page 3, you will find a similar theme in there. The world of fashion and glamour.

The book starts off by introducing the protagonist Igor, whose wife has left him and who he tries to get back in his own twisted ways. The story is set in Cannes, at the time when the fashion and film world from across the globe has assembled there, for the famous Cannes Film Festival. Chapter after chapter, Coelho writes about the glamour world from various points of view, none of them pretty. He manages to convince you not only that all the glitter that you see is make-believe but every smile on every face of every celebrity might be fake. 

He talks of struggling models, wannabe models, aged (read: 25 years and above) models, film directors and distributors. He talks of money laundering, drug trafficking, casting-couch (without saying so or giving it undue importance) and all the darkness in the world of glitz. As an outsider, it's hard for you to see what it is in this paint and show business that lures men and women by the thousands everyday. As I said earlier, a somewhat bookish version of the portrayal of the glamour industry, the "Superclass" and the rest as he calls it, on similar lines as Madhur Bhandarkar's movie Page 3.

Interwoven into all this is an even darker, more evil act of murder. Not once, not twice but as many times as it takes Igor to ensure that the love of his live, Ewa, "gets the message". Amidst the glory, the parties, the behind-the-stage scenes, the struggles, Igor is fighting his own battle as a lone soldier. There is a flashback that pops up from time to time, explaining his acts, justifying the need for his actions. Where there is murder, there is the police. There is their viewpoint of the Cannes, the festival, the Superclass, the murder and the murderer. And similar murders in the past.

Does Igor get caught? Does he manage to convey his message to Ewa? What happens between him and Ewa? If you have the patience to wade through pages of grease-paint, he eventually answers all these questions. Paulo Coelho maintains his style of writing and if you like that, you will make it through the book. However, you tend to come out of it feeling relieved that it is over rather than provoked by the reflections he makes. Yes, there is retrospection, no doubt. That's something Coelho does really well. In here, it is all dark.

I would not rate this as one of my favourite books. Yet, I cannot say I regret reading it. It's a Coelho, it's not bad. It's not the world's best. If you read it, it's not a time-waster but if you didn't, you've missed nothing.