Fire: A Hand of Kali : A Review : Imagination writ large...

Fire : A Hand of Kali is author T. G Ayer's  first novel in the Kali Series and it is a riveting novel indeed. Without giving away the entire plot, the story revolves around a young Indian born NRI girl, who suddenly discovers divine powers within her... is it a bane or a boon? To find out, one has to read the novel for oneself.

Firstly kudos to the author for trying to delve into the Indian mythology and history for the concept. The Indian mythology and History is so rich and diverse, that if exploited fully, it could give the Potter's and the Eragons a run for their money. Unfortunately, there is an utter dearth of authors who take up the challenge of writing fiction based on these. The fact that this author has, is a very great achievement indeed.

When I started reading this story ( I had read the book blurb before), honestly, till Chapter 5, I was really irritated, NOTHING WAS HAPPENING... but once you reach Chapter 5, the book, literally comes alive with action and adventure, after that the journey of the rest 400 odd pages seem to be a blur...

I give credit to the author, for correctly assigning the Indian deities along with their respective "powers" and their strengths and weaknesses. Also the way the plot builds up, is brilliant. The story seem to start slowly, but it then takes a rapid pace as events keep unfolding in quick succession keeping the readers on edge and hungering for more.

The language is lucid and easily understood, also the dialogues that the characters use, especially the major characters, are in keeping with the lingo of the youth. To read this book, one need not have any fore knowledge of Indian mythology. The characters are really well developed and the reader connects with them. Also, one is not kept in dark about any events which could spring a nasty surprise on the readers. The author does a very good job of building suspense and then solving it. No nasty or hasty surprises spring up upon the reader.

The only problem, I found with the book, is that there are several action sequences, which could have been handled better. The author seems to have been in a hurry or must not have given much thought to them while building up the main plot. But some action sequences, and there are some really good ones, are worth imagining...!! The different ancient weapons discussed in the book are also extremely exciting. Having grown up on a diet of Indian mythology myself, even I didn't know there were so many interesting weapons that our deities are in possession of...

In conclusion, I would say, that, this books targets the teens, not the older readers, but whoever the reader is, he or she would find the book an unforgettable journey.  As we journey with Maya, the protagonist, we enter a world, where there are rights and wrongs, the demons and the gods collide and faith is reasserted.
This book is not just a book, it's imagination writ large...

Image Courtesy : T G Ayer
                           Fire: A Hand of Kali Novel: ARC Copy

My Life as a "wanderlust" ... The Miracle on the Train...

Again back with another story from the days of my travelling... not that it has stopped... the travelling that is...not at all...

This one dates back to my college days... people who have passed those days can remember them with fondness and a peculiar smile on their faces... life in the college gives you wings, literally, one has a host of new ideas, new imaginations, concepts never thought of, could be entertained and debated... and the entire world seems to be within one's grasp...

Anyways, those were heady days for me... I had started scorning my parents ideas, ideas, which I may point out, I had grown up with, ideas that seem to me, too constricting, conservative and irrational... I was charting out my dream, and my aspirations seem way too broad minded and liberal than my middle class parents could handle. I can still remember that summer when I went home, I had a huge debate with my dad, on the existence of god... slowly, but surely, I was turning into an atheist... and my parents feared that with my believe in a "godless" world, my moorings with my traditions and customs would also vanish...

I had been raised a Hindu, and as long as I could remember, my mum, used to teach me the names of the thousands of gods and goddesses that constituted the Hindu pantheon, their stories, how the "asuras" (demons) and the gods fought, and countless other mythologies... At school though, I was growing up following Christianity because anyone who wanted a good "English medium education" in India, in those days had to go to a convent school, and one of the essential requirements of the students were that they pray and follow the words of Christ. Hence I knew the Old Testament and the New Testament, the Ten Commandments and numerous stories about Christ and his followers... whenever I prayed, I prayed to the Trinity of the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit in school and at home I was required to pray to another completely different set of gods... this was my "religious education" while growing up...

So this "religious paradox" that I was growing up with, led me to believe that there couldn't be a god who existed, and even if he did, understanding him or her wouldn't be so confusing and complicated. So that summer, I refused to pray, to take part in any religious ceremonies that required my participation and worse, returned all the small, bright pictures of Hindu gods and goddesses that my parents had given me, while going away to college, including a beautiful silver cross... I told them straightaway, that if there was a god, and he/she didn't like the ideas that I was entertaining, he/she could tell me themselves... my parents were stunned and deeply hurt... I felt bad, yes I did, because, whether you believe or not, religion and religious beliefs are often time very sensitive issues... but I was too stubborn in my beliefs, too vain to even entertain the thought that I could be wrong...

And yes, I was going to be proved wrong soon enough...

While returning to Mumbai (a very big metropolitan in India, where I attended College) that summer, I was travelling in the Mumbai-Howrah Mail, an express train that the Indian Government claimed could outrun the wind... well, that still remains a vain propaganda on the part of the Indian government and anyone who has traveled on that dratted train would tell you that speed is not one of its forte...

In the days, when I was in College, there hadn't been an advent of cheap air travel, as there is now in India... trains were the most common form of long distance transportation, and as students, who lived in the college hostel, we would get Travel Compensation, another program on the part of the Indian government to lure girls in far-flung areas to study... we would get a fifty percent discount on our train tickets both to and from home, thus the need never arose that we would spend money on air travel...

The Mumbai-Howrah Mail, completed the journey from Kolkata to Mumbai in two nights and three days... a journey which is now covered by low cost air companies in a mere two and half hours... thus the train was not merely a method of transportation, for many, it was a way of life... you met many different types of people, from different regions of India, many languages were spoken, and different ideas exchanged... I have even known of a young boy and girl from neighboring states who met on the train, fell in love in the course of those "three days and two nights" and eventually got married to each other...!!

So anyhow, here I was, after bidding tearful farewells to my parents (although I am not sure, I cried so much that summer, but of course my mum did), she still does, wherever she comes to leave me at the airport... there were five passengers travelling with me and being extremely talkative and congenial by nature, I soon knew their respective destinations. That night after securing our luggage under our respective berths, all my co-passengers, including me went off to sleep...

It was 3 am when I suddenly woke up. The train was standing in a rather forlorn station called Gaya (Budh Gaya, some call it, it was the place, where Gautam Buddha, the founder of Buddhism, found his Enlightenment), nowadays, though it is notorious for petty theft. The rule of the book, whenever you wake up in the middle of the night during your train journey in India is to

1. Check your luggage
2. Check your footwear is not missing

Those two done and being satisfied by the result, I went to lie down again, anxious to get my sleep back.

It was then, that I noticed.

The window in front of my seat was open, just a few inches and the hand bag that I was carrying, which I had most conveniently positioned just near the window, and which held some of the most important and basic things, a person needs on the journey, sliced wide open, as if someone had taken special time and care to slice through the bag with an extremely sharp knife.

I was stunned... a cold feeling crept up from somewhere in my stomach to my heart and finally to my hands...a clammy sweat formed on my forehead, and I reached to check the lost contents of my bag... my keys to the luggage were gone, my money was gone, along with my pretty pink purse, my College Identity card was gone and gone were my train tickets....the one proof that I was a valid passenger in this train.

I have no memory of how the rest of the night passed except that my co-passengers soon woke up and the Ticket Checker was called and a hundred rebukes and consolations followed. The next two days, I was on a virtual exhibition, people from different ends of the train, kept coming to visit me, my story of how I was robbed had indeed traveled throughout the train... sometimes, they came with consolation, sometimes with inquiries and sometimes with rebukes...whatever it was, they always felt, I had been hugely irresponsible and that these days parents and teachers weren't teaching the stuff that they really needed to teach to kids.

Unlike these days, when all of us are connected through the miracle called cellular phones, we did not have those back then, and once you were on a train, you could only get in touch with your loved ones when you reached your destination.

One of my co-passengers had the sense enough to contact the Railway Police and file an FIR (First Information Report)... any theft that had taken place on the train, were to be reported to the Indian Railway Police, these guys had Police Stations stationed in all the train stations and you could contact them on the platform itself. It wasn't much help though... the young Police Constable, noted down with sincerity all that I had to tell, and then rebuked me on my carelessness, taking the time point out that "Gaya" was an extremely unsafe station and his final conclusion was that my parents shouldn't have left me to travel alone... which in a word, did absolutely nothing to help my situation.

Soon it was the end of our journey, with hours left for the train to reach Mumbai, I was in a bad state... I had  lost my Identity card, I had no money to get a cab at the station and to get to my hostel... I had some money in my suitcase, which was locked and the keys had already been stolen... it was a Sunday, and I would not find any locksmith in Mumbai station who would help me in my peril... I was finding no way out... every solution I thought of, needed money, which was safely lying at the bottom of the now "locked" suitcase.

Sensing my discomfiture, some of my co-passengers tried to lend me money, so that I can at least get to my hostel safely, but where would I again meet them to give the money back... travelers in the train met only once and as one steps off at one's destination, they become a mere memory like the journey, one is undertaking.

I desperately wanted my suitcase opened, if someone, by any chance could open my suitcase, I would be able to retrieve the money needed, get a taxi back to my hostel, from where I could call up my parents and tell them the whole sorry tale... but all these would be achieved if someone could break the Lock on my suitcase and get the money out... I was desperate, and it is in desperation, always that man turns to pray... no matter, how much I had belittled god that summer, I was desperate for his help now, I prayed feverishly, that somehow, someway, something would happen which could end this sorry situation of mine...

Now we were only three stations away from Mumbai, a mere hour... I was beyond fear and prayers had long stopped, I had reached a state of "thoughtlessness", if anything such exists, all thoughts, rational and irrational were obliterated from my mind and I stared blankly out of the windows at the passing trees, shrubs and the scenery.

Suddenly, a young man came into our compartment.

"Yesterday, I heard, that a robbery had taken place here, who was robbed"?  He asked settling himself down at the end of my seat, a little distance away from me...

"Not a robbery, you could call it a theft", answered the old man seated in front of me.

I looked at him bitterly, for he had not spoken a single word of consolation and had the gall to rebuke me continuously for the past two days, as if just being senior in age gave him some form of dominance over me.

" It could have easily been avoided, had she (pointing a bonny index finger towards me) been a little more careful..."

"How so?", my new enquirer asked

" Only, she should have kept that bag of her's away from the train windows... nowadays, children seem to have little common sense left in them... studying in such big-big colleges and not an inch of common sense"...

 Again I looked bitterly at him and scowled... this had been his continuous rejoinder, how I did not posses "a single common sense".

" So what are going to do, when you get to Mumbai ? "  the young man asked me now...

I turned to him, and answered, "I have no clue"... and I really did not... I could hear the old man in front me give a long sigh.

" Can you suggest any idea ?"

He looked at me a bit longer and said he could give me some money to get a taxi till my Hostel. I told him plainly, that it was not a solution and there had been others who had pointed out the same.

"Then what are you going to do?"

"If only I could get someone to open this suitcase for me, I could take out the money myself "", I said...

The old man "tch-tched" under his tongue...

"Why don't you take the money, now, who can open a suitcase in a train ? " came the steady rejoinder.

" I think I can help you out with that ", the young man replied

"You can ? " I asked, almost willing to believe him... "Can you open the suitcase for me ?"

"Yes, why not, I can open it with a safety pin..."

"A safety pin, where can you get that in a train", the old man snorted. Probably, he was again thinking of rebuking the fellow.

" Oh I have it, right in my pocket"... and he took it out.

I stared at him incredulously, I had never before seen any man carry safety pins in his pockets.

Whatever...

We heaved up the suitcase, and for some minutes, he fiddled with the lock... after some tense minutes, there was a little "click" and lo and behold, the lock was unlocked and the suitcase lay open in front of me...

" Here's the lock, I don't think you'll be again able to use it"... he said as he handed me the now broken lock...

I looked at him and at that moment, I could have hugged him tight... the old man in front of me, was profusely thanking him, and I, in my relief, seemed wordless...

I just continued to stare at him...

" All the best for the journey ahead ", he smiled and and left... it was only for an instant, that I noticed piercing blue eyes in his face... then he was gone.

I fervently opened my suitcase and took out the money and flopped back on my seat...

Then it occurred to me, I hadn't even thanked him...

" You could at least have thanked him... he deserved that much... today's girls...!!!"  The old man seem now really annoyed with me...

"Yes I should have... I think I'll find him in the next compartment"...

I left my suitcase there, in the care of the old man, and snaked through the rows of the compartment, nowhere was my "savior" seated... I even got down at the next station, but he was to be seen nowhere...

Mumbai came and I alighted, took the taxi back to my hostel, and everything turned out normal...

But from that day onward, I started believing in God, and also in miracles...

My Life as a Wanderlust... Atheism, Racism, Gandhi and a Writer's Block...!!

I have been suffering from an overload of ideas... ok I do know the reason for this though... I have been reading and commenting on too many blogs, too many people are giving me ideas and the true Gemini girl that I am all these ideas are inter playing in my little grey cells... I really do not know which ones to concentrate upon and which ones to leave out.

Probably this in itself is a kind of Writer's Block. I know the Wikipedia definition of a Writer's Block and that definition mostly blames anxiety and chaos as the top reasons for having writer's block... but what if the writer has too many ideas clogging her grey cells ?

What then ?

Anxiety or Chaos...?

Take for instance, the other day, I came across a webpage on Atheism, and there was this post, a young boy of sixteen had written... the post noted, how, he was an Atheist and how his mother and sister found this particular trait of his to be an oddity and as such a shameful behavior. That post set me thinking... Of course I did my best to console the child and told him that it's best not to discuss ideas that others find appalling, even if, as a human being, you are entitled to have your own ideas... to get his thoughts on paper, to write them down... that had always helped me, and even today, when I am faced with a terrible, situation which is confounding me, like this one, I find it best to put them in words...

But the post set me thinking... Am I an Atheist ? Does everyone of us have an Atheist in themselves or are we so devoted to our faith that we cannot even grasp the idea of a Godless world ? And then it came to me...

Probably each of us carry an Atheist and a Believer in us, yes the same two contradicting forces find themselves manifested in the same person. Human beings have developed too much, intellectually and socially, to blindly follow any notion that's forced into them. If we were all devoted, blind, believers of our respective faiths, then science would not have made the advancement that it has made since the invention of fire.

And if we were so strictly Atheist, religion would not have been an integral part of our lives, hell, sometimes it even rules us... So the incredible truth is Human beings are both believers and atheists at the same time. We are a clever specie... of course the way we have "evolved" is a testament to the fact, we use faith when it suits us and reason, when it does so.

So think about it, are you strictly an atheist or strictly a believer ?

 In my case I think I am agnostic... I believe in God, but my "god" is made up of all the good deeds and principles, mainly, which I sometimes strive to follow, and sometimes I fail to... Truth, Generosity, Trust, Help, Belief and my parents, these are my GOD... and I do not, never have believed, that there is some big great man or woman sitting up in heaven beyond the skies who's looking after us...

But anyhow, this post was about my Writer's Block, not about Atheism...

The second idea that entered my head and troubled my grey cells was one of Racism... actually while growing up in India, I never bothered about this particular ideology until I came to South Africa... I mean this concept actually blew off my mind, when I came here...

In India, we generally never talk about Race... we talk about Poverty, GDP, Corruption, Education, Rape... (oh my god that IS a big topic), Women's Liberation, and many  more, but never about racial inequalities...

That is a topic, that the western media makes a big hue and cry about... but when I came to South Africa... it was the first time, I was confronted with this notion and how this very vague idea is slowly transforming into a living, breathing reality for me.

My first interaction with this topic came from my domestic. She is a really nice lady, might I say, a black lady... it is important that I point this out, because, the first day when she and I were indulging in our first introductions, she touched my hand and said to me " I have never worked for this people "... her exact words... first, honestly I didn't understand, and then it came to me, actually it thundered onto me, SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT THE COLOR OF MY SKIN.... wow... it was the first time, in my 30 years of life that someone has actually commented on my SKIN COLOR...in a way that made me really THINK about it... Actually I should have taken offense, but after saying this, she was smiling at me, and I couldn't help but reply, " This color is of Gandhi, you know Gandhi "... and she nodded her head in enthusiasm...  "Oh a great man, great man, he did a lot for us..."

The most odd thing about this entire conversation was, when she pointed me my color, the first person that came to my mind was the one that my countrymen have generally forgotten, and when I did mention Gandhi, she said, he was indeed a great, great man... my domestic, might I say, is an extremely poor South African Lady....and she knew that Gandhi had done great things for her country...something Indian young men and women have comfortably chosen to forget...

Anyhow, so these issue are there in my mind and I do not know which one to concentrate upon, Atheism, Racism, India's relationship to Gandhi and his ideals, (well which most Indians think are dead now)... and therefore I am suffering from a Writer's Block...

Or am I ??

I really need to find out...

Taking the control in your hands, a necessary read for all types of women...

I have been thinking about whether to upload this post or not for some time, and then I thought maybe someone in my position would probably find it useful.

Ok, first of all, this post isn't at all for kids, so if you, my dear reader, is not above 18 please do not read further, ( of course, if you are below 18 and sexually active, then please ignore the former sentence and do read on). Second of all, this post isn't for those who blindly and devotedly believe in religion, whatever faith that might be, if you are a blind follower and believe in your respective religion or faith keeping aside common sense, this post isn't for you. So now that I have given out my mandatory warnings, let me begin...

I am writing this post primarily for women, for women like me... wherever you are and whatever you do, I hope if you were ever or would be in my position in the foreseeable future, you would find this post helpful.

I am 30 years old, married (very happy too..!!!) and have just completed a year and two months of marital bliss. As like many other couple who take steps to ensure that extension of the family is well planned, we too have taken some such measures and we follow them scrupulously... not that we don't like children, or we don't want to have them... we love kids, and we would love a family of our own... but not now, not unless we are ready for them... so anyway, one fine night our method of contraception didn't work out as it should have and I faced the terrible consequence of being pregnant with a child. The morning after the beautiful night, both me and my husband realized the gravity of the situation and we started discussing, whether or not to take the "morning-after pill"... now let me tell you straight away, I scoured the internet and numerous blogs, for more information on emergency contraceptive pills, and though I found a lot of information, I did not get a single article or post of a woman, who might have taken the pill herself. No real life account of real women who have taken the pill. That is one of my most important reason of writing this post so that, if someone is in my position, they can come across this blog post and learn about a real life incident, because this is what happened to me.

Also, please allow me to state here, in my defense, that I am an average healthy woman (touchwood...!!) and I really do not believe in medication of any kind... I was extremely reluctant to take the pill, educated and learned as we were, there were some lingering doubts. Also, although we are followers of the Hindu faith, our religion does not say anything about this... or probably we are not aware of it... anyhow, we really went over every single internet article we could find on the Emergency Contraceptive Pill and its after effects. When we were somewhat sure, that the pill is not life-threatening, I decided to take it.

I took the Plan B One Step, an Emergency Contraceptive, that can be obtained over the counter in most drug stores in USA, I really don't have much idea, which Emergency Contraceptive Pills are available in other countries, but I am sure, some kind of pill is definitely available.

I was also extremely doubtful of it's working and wasn't even sure that it'll work... but work it did, and I am extremely glad to say that I did take it and also at the right time.

I know a lot of women, conceive when they are not ready, or not mentally prepared. Ladies, it's fine, it's not something wrong not to be prepared for a child. And even if it does happen, you still can control it... I am giving below some sites that I had searched when deciding whether or not to take this particular medicine.

http://ec.princeton.edu/info/ecp.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emergency_contraception

http://www.safersex.co.za/family-planning-Emergency-Contraceptives.htm

http://www.plannedparenthood.org/health-topics/emergency-contraception-morning-after-pill-4363.asp

These are the sites I visited before I took the "morning-after pill"... it is essentially a very safe medicine. I did not experience any side effects... of course I drank a lot of water for about a week daily after taking the medication and these are not "abortion pills"... If you have the pills, within 72 hours of unprotected physical intimacy, they work absolutely fine. I took them within 48 hours, of course, all the sites I visited said the earlier you take it the better.

So please, if any of you are in my situation and are confused and you don't know what to do and you are not ready to bring a child into this world, think about this pill... it's supposed to be absolutely safe and does not harm you or your reproductive ability. If you have already conceived, then the pill does not hurt the unborn foetus.

There are a huge number of unintended or mistimed pregnancies happening all over the world. According to Wikipedia, about 38 percent of all pregnancies in the world are unintended or mistimed. This also results in a large number of maternal deaths and infant deaths. Also the health of the mother and the child could be gravely affected.

Bringing a child into this world is a huge responsibility, and a lot of educated women like me know this. We all want to give the best of everything to our child, and we should also. Therefore it's even more important to bring a child into this world, when and if you are ready for it. To me, personally, motherhood is the greatest gift nature has endowed on women, and therefore it's a huge and life changing decision for me and I can say, that I am not ready as of yet. All I can say, that if you are not ready to bring a child in this world, take precautions to prevent it. Again, let me stress, that I do not advocate abortion in any case and thus knowing about the options available makes us powerful.

Also, as this issue is quite sensitive, a lot of you may not be comfortable talking about it to your parents or even friends, I know, for one, I would not have been able to talk about this to my parents... I actually haven't. I don't think these measures were available during their time, and even if they were available, probably it was a sin to even put them into practice.

But times have changed now, now we can really take control of our lives, the way we want to, and that's why I wrote this post. I really hope that this post helps someone who's in need, because trust me, having a real life account helps tremendously... I didn't have it, I hope you do...please if you come across this, do share it because it is only information that makes us powerful.

My Life as a Wanderlust : The Black, The Grey and The White...

It's almost been three months of stay for me and my husband here in South Africa.
 Before taking a trip down here, there are two things which we searched about the most.

First, of course, the places to visit and secondly, Indian Restaurants ( as I mentioned in an earlier blog post, we are foodies of the greatest nature).

About the first, we haven't been to any of the famous places that one would normally come across while Goggling "South Africa", but I managed to go to the one place that I was hell bent on and which really shook us, it instilled a feeling in us about the place where we are living and the legacy it carried for all of us.

The place I am talking about is the Apartheid Museum. Anybody who has been to South Africa or plan to visit South Africa, trust me, your journey would remain half complete if you don't visit this place. I am a huge history buff so wherever I go, I make sure that I read some of the nations' history, otherwise not knowing about the country, about it's people, about the legacy, makes me feel incomplete.

We have all heard of the heinous practice of Apartheid which was taken and practiced as a State Policy here in South Africa and the practice ended only in 1991. A lot of my friends of Facebook, didn't know that Apartheid ended only in 1991, this is extremely recent for people of our age... I mean we were all in school at the time... Anyhow when I had first heard of the place, I made sure, that this was a "must see" on my list.

I am giving below the link of the Museum's site, if anyone is interested in finding out more, and really the more you know, the more will you be surprised.

http://www.apartheidmuseum.org/

The first thing that strikes you is that the tickets that are given randomly distinguish people into Whites and Non-Whites... no there is nothing racial about it, me and my husband are both Asian, we got two tickets, one labelled "White" (Blanke in Afrikaans) and "Non-White" ( Nie-Blanke) and then we had to go through separate doors titled the same, into a tunnel kind of exhibition... this act in itself strikes you as extremely discriminating... it did to me, but that's exactly what used to happen down here. Then there is a passageway and an exhibition showing us enlarged posters of the "Identity cards" that people carried. The thing that felt strange to me was, besides name,  and gender, there was the "Ethnic" grouping. Also there was a group called "the chameleons" well, surprising as it may sound, the Apartheid Government termed the Citizens of the country so in 1985. This group of people officially changed their Ethnicity  from either "Indians" to Coloured, Coloureds to Indians, Malays to Coloured and so on...

When we emerge from this horrendous passage, we are re-united with our co-passengers, who had been passing through another similar tunnel... We emerged into an open courtyard where the Johannesburg sun was shinning down... it felt like a breadth of fresh air... the sensation after passing through a tunnel, the exhibits of which keep reminding you of your Ethnicity, to say the least, is not at all pleasant. I just imagined, what might have been the situation for this country's citizens who had to carry those evil cards at all times which shrieked out distinction and you could do nothing about it...

There were many, many similar exhibits stating the history of South Africa. The settlement of the Dutch colonists on the western capes of the country, who first trekked up the Highvelds into the interior to set up cities such as Johannesburg and Pretoria, how the English came later and the beginning of the Apartheid ideology which started as an innocent idea to preserve the culture, tradition and the history of the first "Afrikaan" people and then turned into an heinous practice and later into a hated state policy.

As one passes through the museum, one is time and again reminded of the differences that exist among us, and also reminds us, that it is these differences which unites us rather than divide us... Sure we are different, each and every individual is different, but it is this, that makes us "humans" , if we were all same, we would rather have been machines...

At the end of all the exhibitions, there is a place, a kind of forest with a huge man-made lake, the clear waters of the lake reflect back at you and you realize whatever our race may be, whatever our color, whatever our language may be, and whatever our religion, we still are "human beings" and that's the only thing that's worthy about us.

A visit to this place actually makes you evaluate your humanity. It drills into you that no matter how bad the conditions may be, there can still be hope for better...

My Life As A Wanderlust : The Story of a Bong Gastro-Enthusiast !

Bengalis have certain typical characteristics to define them... Food, Travel, "Adda" (meaning discussions, yes Bongs discuss everything from communists to capitalists and from socialists to psychoanalysts...), and of course "Kaalture" (culture... for a Bengali, "kaalture kora" (meaning propagating one's culture, is as essential as breathing)...

So, my husband, an extremely enthusiastic specie of the Bengali clan, who has been long away from the irresistible charms of "rolls", "muglai porota", "puchka", "jhaalmuris" , all of which make up the famous street food of Kolkata.... and of course his favorite Indo-Chinese cuisine consisting of "chowmein and chilly chicken"... even the mention of these, sends my husband into a nostalgic emotional roller-coaster...  imagine his wonder and joy, when we discovered an Indian Restaurant, here in Pretoria, which serves authentic Indo-Chinese cuisine.

Before I go a little further, let me tell you a bit about what an Indo-Chinese cuisine is...

According to Wikipedia, Indo- Chinese cuisine is the adaptation of Chinese seasonings and cooking techniques into Indian tastes. This cuisine is said to have been developed by the small Chinese community that lived in Kolkata (Eastern Bengal) for over a century. Today it's one of the most well loved and famous cuisines of Kolkata and has become an integral part of every Bengali's food dictionary.

My Husband is an untiring lover of Chinese cuisine... not the authentic Chinese but the Indo-Chinese cuisine, that I have described above... in his own words, he can have Chinese, day in and day out every single day for his entire lifetime, and never be tired of it... of course, I highly suspect his devotion, but nobody ever comes between a Bong and his food...!!

So when, we, by mistake, discovered an Indian Restaurant and lo and behold... there was an Indo- Chinese menu, not just separate dishes on the main Menu, but a menu in itself... our joys knew no bound, especially, when I looked at Rahul's glowing face, I knew, this discovery meant a lot, lot more to us than anybody could ever imagine...

We had traveled almost over almost three continents, Asia, America and Africa, and no where except Kolkata, had we found this particular cuisine... of course we had searched... searched every Indian Restaurant and even the Chinese ones. We ordered with great enthusiasm and waited apprehensively, hoping, almost praying, that our dishes would meet our expectations. We had tried hard, and come far indeed...

And then they came...

Our feverish expectations were answered... the dishes were marvelous... we were overjoyed...

So if any of you gastro-enthusiastics are out there, and any of you want to taste what "Indo-Chinese" cuisine is all about, here in Pretoria (which, sadly does not have a decent Chinese restaurant), please try this restaurant called "Namaskar Restaurant" at Hatfield Corner... the ambiance is beautiful and sophisticated and the food is as I just said marvelous... trust me all those who live near Silver Stream and it's surroundings, it beats any Indian restaurants around...

So the "foodie" in us is fully satisfied now... we are a couple who love anything related to food, making it, eating it, making others eat it and even seeing shows about it... if you are a foodie like us... try new places, have new cuisines and discover a world where your tongue rules your heart...

Next on our platter is authentic African cuisine...!!!

Me Before You... A Review : Innocence Writ Large...!!!

After a long, long while, I read an out and out love story... and what's more I really liked it... I think it's been over one and a half years, that I have touched anything remotely romantic not even touching the occasional Mills and Boons romance...!!! In terms of reading , I had divulged deeply into autobiographies and non-fiction... a endevour to challenge myself into reading what is "boring" (my words) and "un-engrossing" ( again my words)... well I was doing pretty well and even reversed my thinking about autobiographies and non--fiction, which I now think are deeply engrossing and very interesting, I would go so much in saying that non-fiction actually makes you think, long after you have kept the book down.

Anyways, coming back to Me Before You, a novel, that I read recently for our book club, is written by Jojo Moyes, a British author. This is the second novel. Before reading, me and my partners at the book club, we all scrutinize the Amazon reviews... if you see the reviews of the book, the average rating that readers have provided is 4.5 stars... that was intriguing enough...  Though a word of caution here... please do not read a book, simply based on the reader's review and definitely not just the reviews of the Amazon readers. They have given an average rating of 3 stars to "A Hundred Years of Solitude"... !!!

However, coming back to Me Before You... it's a love story... yes, an out and out love story... yes I can already visualize a few yawns, especially in the male readers of this post. But before you think it's just another "girl meets boy romance" (well it is one), it also address a very deep issue of our society : Euthanasia or Mercy Killing... I really loved the way the author has integrated this much debatable topic in the book and it so seamlessly goes with the story.

A brilliant narrative, all of the book is in first person narrative, with the female protagonist's voice writ large. I could not understand why the author chose not to showcase the male protagonist's voice. It would have been quite interesting. The story runs lucidly and the humor is dark, but subtle. I really liked the portrayal of the two main characters and how their relationship shapes up. The other characters in the book are also very interesting. Without giving the story up, I can say this much, that the book, does not mean to preach, nor does it take a judgmental view. The author tells a simple story and leaves it upon the reader to reach their respective conclusion. The story is short but very, very engaging. 

I, as a reader, really felt like being in the shoes of the characters. I give due credit to the author, for including the voices of the vital characters apart from the Protagonist... and yes, for a very practical ending... sometimes, when the conclusion does not match the expectation, I really hate the book... but here, it did, and I am grateful to the author for that.

A beautiful story, it's simple, elegant, and innocent. After a long while, I came across such an innocent romance, and I loved every bit of it.