'Criti....que not Criti....cize'

How to Travel Light: My Memories of Madness and Melancholia by Shreevatsa Nevatia My rating: 4 of 5 stars Publisher: Penguin Random House India ISBN: 9386815885, 9789386815880 No. of pages: 256 I remember reading about the book back when it released in 2017. Since then, it's been at the back of my mind. For some or the other reason, I could not lay my hands on a copy of it. And now in 2021 at a book fair, the moment I saw it, I knew I had to pick it up.  4 years later, when I finally completed reading it last night, I knew that the universe was conspiring for the right moment for me to have it. The complexities of one's mind and the daily battles one is a part of has been described to the tee. Four years back, it may have been a little difficult, considering the phase of life I was in. But today, I can say I had a ringside view of being bipolar in India.  Having known someone who has been a part of the ups and downs of being bipolar, and having had first hand experiences, it...

A tradition started 12 years ago. At the cusp of adulthood, but while in school (class 12, to be precise); when romance novels were Where Rainbows End, Dear John, Message in a Bottle and  P.S. I Love You ; when promises were made and felt rather deeply by the heart (not that they aren't now) -- Karwa Chauth was taken up with a whimsical approach. Karwa Chauth -- a day of fasting (without consuming even a drop of water post the sargi)  usually undertaken by Indian married women every year post Dussehra and before Diwali (that's how I always remember it) -- assumed more importance thanks to Bollywood with its smattering of Karwa Chauth in many of the movies I grew up watching. Also, I found the north Indian rituals and festivals amusing as a South Indian (Keralite). For someone who witnessed wedding rituals lasting for not more than two minutes back home, the Big Fat Indian Wedding, popularised by Bollywood and stories by north Indian friends alike, fascinated me no end.  W...

A cousin from Amrika  landed home today. While I waited for him eagerly, the moment when we finally met approached sometime around 8.30 pm on a Saturday. With a flight to catch the next day, he was somewhat racing against time. And tada, he walked in. While 3 years didn't make much of a difference when we finally met, I was secretly glad that he had let his unibrow grow, uninhibited. Guess that's the thing with people you grow up with. The camaraderie is something that you can't define. Tidbits from the conversation: S: What you upto these days? D: I am freelancing. S: Tried Upwork? D: Did create a profile. Yet to work on the details. No one seems to be interested in giving me a job in Bangalore. S: Engineers don't know how to write. They need people to put to words what they 'think' and want to convey. There's a lot of scope for technical writing. D: Yeah, like one of those teams who told to explain the step-by-step process of explaining to a 70-year-old pe...

Em and The Big Hoom by Jerry Pinto My rating: 5 of 5 stars On a train journey from Kerala to Mumbai, I lay down on the top berth and silently put down my kindle and closed my eyes for some time. The definitions of normal, abnormal, sane, insane, mad crisscrossed in my mind and I mourned the loss of the so-called ‘mad’ people from the world. Who are we to judge them? Who are we to put them into boxes created by our own definitions of normal, desirable and perfect to survive? Darwin’s evolutionary theory and the accompanying phrase ‘survival of the fittest’ suddenly seemed hollow. Fittest? By what means? Thanks to Jerry Pinto’s Em and the Big Hoom, a book I was looking forward to read from a long time now, my mind kept asking me questions to which all I did was to close my eyes and listen. Living with a patient of schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and some other medical conditions has been expansively described. It makes you laugh at times, shed a tear or two at others. But it teaches yo...

What comes to your mind when I say POWER? Not necessarily in caps. Power. Or power.  I was recently asked to write what I would do with 'power' if I had it (writing test for a firm). It put me into thinking mode. What is power? How would I define it? This is what I wrote: Power is a matter of perspective. That one can lift a brush in the morning to clean one’s teeth can be a matter of power for someone who can’t lift a limb. To others, it’s one of the the basic steps undertaken by them before they step out to conquer the world. To each, his own. When I ask myself about ‘power’, I feel like a superwoman – I can make people smile and remind them to count their blessings. It often doesn’t take much. Sometimes, it can be a handwritten letter and at other times, it can be a simple text reminding them that they are remembered, in your own wacky ways. On some days like today, even a bottle of sanitizer can do the trick! Thoroughly cleaning the room of a Covid-positive relative helped ...

Rains? Oh, adrak wali chai (ginger tea) and pakode (fritters) to the rescue! As much as pop culture has glorified that feeling, has anyone felt gloomy with the continuous downpour -- the relentless rainfall, which often takes away homes and roads with it? The gloom descended this morning, thanks to a sunny sky. I felt these smileys today. 🌞☀️ Closer home, what the rains did till yesterday was to not allow clothes to dry, to linger as a smell that refused to budge despite pouring floor cleaning soapy liquid and a copious amount of the liquid that claims to kill 99.9% of germs including the one that is responsible for the Covid- 19 pandemic. While I think of splashing that liquid all over the world via a helicopter, my nose rang an alarm in my brain. Yet again. Ah! That semi-dry, modern version of poncha (wiping stick) was the culprit. While the dream of a fragrant home (with flowers blooming all over for dramatic effect) remained a dream, I had to then fish out agarbathis (incense s...

That's the thing about books. To each his own. Recommendations and reviews work only to a point. I, for one, love to randomly pick up books and read. Here are a few of my favourite underrated books which I feel one must pick up at least once in life: 1. The Small Island by Andrea Levy  Not the usual black vs white terror story but a beautiful, subtle, bittersweet tale of a journey through ups and downs of life. It made me wonder why I got that book for Rs 50 at a Books by Kilo exhibition. She is definitely a magician when it comes to words. For those who prefer short stories more, you may start with Six Stories and an Essay by the same author.   2. Purple Hibiscus  by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, popular for We Should All Be Feminists   Simply for the detailing and the brusque nature of her storytelling. Can't imagine anyone else writing about water scarcity like she did in the book (that's definitely not what the tale is about though). But such is her writing...