When will there be good news?-Kate Atkinson

How hard could it get to put the bitter part of your past behind you? Hard enough, when your shadowy past threatens to strike again.

Six year old Joanna Mason witnesses what a child her age couldn't stomach. The murder of her sister, baby brother and mother, by a complete stranger called Andrew Decker amidst the fields of rural Devon. It couldn't be said that the little girl lost her idyllic happy family, as the happiness was snatched already by her novelist dad who left them all for another woman. Not a self starter by nature, she's prompted by her mum "run Joanna, run!" and she flees before the psycho killer could take her life as well. And is later found safely sleeping behind grass.

Thirty years later, the little girl is Dr.Joannna Hunter (Jo for short) (married to Neil Hunter) and a mother of a young baby. Reggie, 16 (with looks of a child but with an ancient soul) is the mother's help. Chief Inspector Louise, knocks at their door one morning to inform (and warn) about the release of Andrew Decker and the unwelcome media attention that the doctor may be subjected to. Jo reckons it would help to "escape" for a bit.

So one morning when Reggie drops into the Hunters' house, she's sent back by Neil saying Jo has gone to help an ailing aunt for few days. To Reggie it appears that the doctor has "disappeared". Leaving behind her mobile and purse was so unlike the very organised doctor. She voices her suspicions to Louise, who only asks her to stop fantasizing. Only, the mystery surrounding Neil's business and his weird behaviour makes Louise think in the same "disappeared" angle. It turns out that the whole aunt episode is a farce. So has Joanna heard her ancestral voices prompting "run Joanna run" yet again, and fled with the baby to escape from Decker? What would explain Neil's mysterious business which invites legal intervention? Is the intuitive Reggie merely misleading the police force by making a mountain out of a molehill?

The author parallely brings in Jackson Brodie, ex soldier and ex policeman, who ventures out in search of an identity which he never claims till the end. The train he travels crashes and he is saved by Reggie resuscitating him. The cause of the accident is an old Ms MacDonald who is Reggie's tutor. As a return favour, Reggie seeks Jackson's detective knowledge to find Jo. Interestingly, Jackson was the policeman who found 6 year old Jo sleeping in the field where her kin were slaughtered. Would Jackson find Jo again?


The pace of the narration doesn't slacken even once. There are no loose ends. If there are any at all, the reader is not left with any time to ponder on those. The appetite for what happens next, grows with the turn of every page. And the author assures absolute pleasure to the reader with her dry humour and gripping narration. My only problem with the book was Jackson Brodie, the ex cop, portrayed as a person being cheated time and again in his marriages. But hey, successful professionals, at times do end up as personal disasters. On a quick recap of the story once I was done with the book, I did feel that it was the flow and eloquence of the author's prose which superseded the not so unique story.

I understand that this book, though not a sequel, does bear characters from Atkinson's other novels. Some may categorize this as mystery/crime fiction, others may tag this as a family saga. In any case, the book promises a delightful read. Isn't that enough good news ?

Rating:4/5

The Gift - Cecelia Ahern

I haven't read Cecelia Ahern's more popular PS I love you. Occasionally, reading the gist of some books seem sufficient to me. Also, sometimes for no particular reason, I don't read books/authors which I always see on the shelves. Both the reasons hold good for me not going in for her books. 4th March was World Book Day and the whole month was full of book sale, film nights with movies based on books etc in the library. "The Gift" occupied one of the coveted space for "great reads" in the past month, and I took the chance to read the author for the first time. (This would most likely be the last time as well).

The book starts off with a teenager, in a fit of anger throwing a turkey on the window of his dad's "other woman's" house on Christmas Day. He is detained for this act, and the police chief Raphie, in an effort to put some sense into the boy's head, tells him the story of Lou.

The character "Lou" is no strange one in today's world. He is an ambitious guy, with a high flying career, is married and has 2 kids. He has no time for his family because "Job could fire you, but family will not". He has given his family everything except him, his time and his fidelity. (Bored already?)

Here comes the (supposedly) interesting twist in the tale. One morning on his way to work,he offers his coffee to a man called Gabe, shivering in the cold Irish winter, begging. He's impressed by the young guy and eventually offers him a job in his office. Soon Gabe gets into the good books of everyone in the office. Lou, who always has 2 things to do at the same time, two places to be at the same time,
finds the efficiency and agility of Gabe intimidating. Its almost like Gabe is omnipresent.

Till this point the book seemed promising.

Gabe seeks to help Lou double up (literally) by offering him some pills so he could satisfy his family, while being there at office as well. Lou becomes a star at personal and the professional front. Now, things happen in such a way that make you wonder just WHO this Gabe is. Is he God Himself or a product of Lou's hallucination or a man with powerful knowledge in science and research? You tend to sift through the pages again but will not get any answer. Although I do like it when the reader is left to guess, I dislike it when the reader is left confused, or do I say even betrayed. However, that the ending is a sad one, is a clever move by the author. If not for that, one would definitely tend to dismiss the book as a boring preachy and philisophical sermon. The book does pick up pace here and there but one would prefer a subtle approach to what we all have heard over and over again in our Moral Science classes (value of time etc), than saying time is precious, in so many words. We have never liked advices, have we?

I'm not sure of Cecelia's other books, but this is not the best book to try start reading her works. Because I've read this first, Its going to be difficult if not impossible for me to try her other works.

rating : 2.5/5

Its all in the mind, really

A friend invited me to her son's second B'day. I dropped in early to help her decorate the house. After sellotaping the balloons and ribbons I started arranging the letters of the boy's name to pop them up. She pulled me aside and said not to be angry, but she's changed the kid's name, based on the numerologist's advice. I was gobsmacked. Because, she had already changed the way her name is spelt sometime back. And her initials. And her wedding anniversary date. I was worried for her. But she felt (and still feels) these changes have indeed solved some of the problems which were posing as potential threats to her peace of mind. I am convinced that its her positive thinking combined with stubborn determination which bounces her back from any depths of worries and NOT any magical rearrangement of alphabets or numbers. But I know better than to advice her on this. I would never dissaude her from believing in her theories. If those things make her happy so be it.

But I draw a fine line when it comes to astrology/numerology. I'm not the kind who'd call them absolute humbug. But I would not run, horoscope in hand, at the first instance of trouble striking.

I'm not a very religious person either. I follow traditions only to the extent that I can. And I do them for my own/immediate family circle's satisfaction or just of out of habit. My father says one should either follow the system to the T, or be bold enough to say NO to such practices. but I'm content to balance (not hang) somewhere in between.

I don't make a face or ruffle my nose when someone eats non-veg, and consider people who do make faces to be really rude. And I do not like comments such as "She claims to be a vegeterian, but try tempting her with this pastry, you'll know!". Yes I've tried eating eggs, but disliked them. But I do eat some cakes made of eggs, as hey, they are tasty, so. If asked whether I'm a veg or a non-veg, I say I'm veg. If someome says I'm not being true to myself they're wrong. And I will not try and argue with people to prove my point.

I keep a bindhi even when I wear jeans/skirts or the most elegant frock coat. Well, the size of the bindhi may be small (Resembles a mosquito bite, is what my mother would say). But I don't panic when my bindhi falls off even when I'm in a saree and I couldn't find the bindhi packet in my handbag;

But I'm a temple person. It is not that I need to visit temples on a regular basis, but when at close proximity, I make it a habit. So when this friend of mine said there's a Vinayakar Temple 5 mins from where I live, I set out. I usually google any place before I visit, but since my friend said its about 10 steps from the shop I frequent, I went without doing the usual homework. The Temple was a small one but I was happy that there's a place of worship to visit. After returning home, I surfed for some info like how long the temple has been there etc. and came to know that the place where the temple now stands was apparently a leisure centre. Also, the tone of the article in which I read this was meant to give an idea of how people have gone to the extent of huddling many Gods together in for convenience sake. I was jolted a bit but not utterly shocked. So what if the place where a Peter was probably swimming or running on the treadmill has now become the place where a Palani comes to seek blessings from God? One could pray with solemnity at any place (be it a temple or not) is my humble opinion.

Mind and our numerous beliefs could really get complex. Not very frequently, I have found myself contradicting what I used to believe/follow. But why not, I ask? Its ok to change as the circumstances so warrant.

Facelift

I lack the virtue of Patience in the most frivolous circumstances. I can patiently wait for hours/days months together, but could lose my cool when it comes to short waits. This unfailingly happens whenever I've got to choose an id. So when I was recommended by a friend about a review site, I was hooked on to it within seconds and wanted to participate within minutes. Whenever I'm excited I'm at my creative worst. (Safely, let's not talk about the scenario when I'm not excited here). Interesting things happened much later, and following the trail of people for whose sake I would have clung to the site, I walked out of the site. As though the site was waiting for my exit, there came an option where one could change their IDs.

In the meantime, Smita decides to blog. I decide to frantically participate. To know what happened next, pls read words in italics in para one again. (if you have patience, that is). ALthough, this time round, I really loved my id. Only, I was not happy in not having a proper blog name. Now, that's taken care of.

Enna Kodumai Saravanan idhu

Time:10.00am
I realise that there's less than a pint of milk in the fridge.
I wrap myself with the hooded coat, scarf, gloves, boots what not. Plus wrap the child with all mentioned, and force him onto the pushchair.

Time:10.20am
All set to go.

Time:10.30am.
Back from the shop with the milk can. Found panju sleeping, so quickly gave it a thought. Because I'd like to spend more time out, than getting ready to go out whenever possible, I decided to shop for a ball for the child, something I wanted to do, ever since he started walking. How simple does that sound? So I first went into the local supermarket. They turned me down and suggested toysrus (exclusive toy shop). At toys r us, they only had basket ball or football, which even I found it hard to lift. I showed my child and told them I'm buying for him. With a big grin she said "I know what you're looking for" and went in and brought a huge packet full of blue and green, pink and orange balls. "I'll have the orange one please", I said. "No darling, they come in packs of 100.. we don't sell them in singles!". I don't need 100s of them cluttering my house. Thankuverymuch. So I went straight into this corner Chinese shop, and bought this one monster of a ball. Hope its not too small for a 15 month old;)

Belatedly watched and read

Maybe because it has been snowing unusually for about two weeks dissuading me from venturing out, I was able to catch up with 3 idiots, Paa and London Dreams in the DVD. Enjoyed 3 idiots. Though it was heart breaking to see Maddy get less droolable these days. I even wondered why aging stars had to do the roles. Anyway I've got to read FPS to understand the controvery surrounding the movie better. About the much talked about delivery scene, I felt the scene was a bit forced (though it was certainly not as bad as the infamous Salaam Namaste scene).

And what was the idea behind Paa? If it was to showcase ABs acting prowess, I didn't appreciate much of it. To me it was a story, done to death. It would have touched a chord, if a child suffering from progeria was roped in.

I liked London Dreams the most (save the ending). I have always liked Salman and Ajay. Only, I disliked Asin and her wasted role in the movie.

Now finally, Palace of Illusions. (I really feel like the only person on Planet Earth to have read this book so late). I liked the book. And I was expecting to be awestruck but I was really not. I was transported to a different world with the way the book started, up until the stage when Bheeshma comes to take Panchaali and the Pandavas after their marriage. After that, to me, it was just the story which was told, and not much from Draupadi's pov. Maybe I was just greedy for more of a woman's perceptions. But the magic in the writing just seem to wear off.(atleast till the Great War started).

I am now very curious to know if the episode on Karna and Draupadi's love for each other is just a figment of the author's imagination or was it real. I found the mysterious love very fascinating.

I am now hooked onto Anita Desai's books. (Though something tells me its going to be a year before I finish the books. Having a toddler at home, helps you in citing him/her as the reason, for you slowing down. That you may have born with lazy bones all over would be conveniently pushed to the background ;)).

What crossed my mind

Just like every other peron, on the last day of 2009, I was contemplating on the happenings in my life, when few childhood reminiscences brought a smile on my face..
...I used to dread the thought of someone asking me what my New Year resolution was. (Why was it was an unwritten rule that everyone ought to have a resolution?)

...I thought saying "same to you" was unfriendly when someone wishes you "Happy New Yr". Wish you the same was slightly better, but I was happier with "Happ New Yr". And being the wicked guy that my brother was, he used to chase me throughout the day with "same to you".

...Dec 31st is a close friend's B'day. So few of us, friends, used to gang up in the terrace of her house, and have a blast. (If nothing, we just used to talk the whole evening. Girls can never run out of topics to chat).

...I used to join granny in giving long lectures about how people throng temples on Jan 1st, while there's only less than half the crowd during Pongal/Varuda pirappu.

...On New Year's eve, I used to strictly tell dad not to rebuke me even if I forget to switch off the motor when the tank overflows, and to mom not to take it out on me if she missed the ladies spl bus, and had to board the already packed to capacity bus. This, as I felt if I bear the brunt of someone's anger, on the 1st day of the year, I would face with similar situations every other day. The senti idiot that I was!