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Showing posts from February, 2012

Ines, of my soul…

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There is something about the way the Latin American writers write. Its like this – they want to tell a good story, with all elements in it. They want you to remember it well. They also want you to be aware of your surroundings. And they want you to do it all without putting down the book. Of course, this applies to all the writers out there. But only a few can accomplish all this, and much more. Only some write stories that will stay with you forever. Only some can hold the power on your heart to not want to finish a book. Only some can weave poetry into prose and still tell a good story. And very few can actually make you stay in this world, and yet transport you into a different one, a magical one. And very very few can actually sketch down to the smallest detail, all the aspects of the world they create for you, and all in a few words. Doubtlessly, Marquez is President of Great Story-Teller Country, and the Minister of Awesome Writers Guild, if there is one. Only he can tell a beau…

Of Lahiris and Namesakes…

Am tired of Lahiri, her same old premises, and similar characters. And I've begun to notice that her stories all have a depressing undertone, and are extremely verbose. Where other authors beautifully express the predicament, situation or scene in 5-10 beautiful magical sentences, Lahiri takes an entire page for them, and they are still not awesome. I might not be worthy of a reviewer to give such a rating to one of the most famous woman authors from Indian origin, but I am beginning to wonder how and why her stories get popular?
All of them are based on a Bengali couple living in the US, and are struggling to keep their children still in touch with their Bong routes, and the kids are doing everything in their might to shrug away from them, their cultures and their parents. And at the end of every story, the off-spring eventually realizes his/her roots and gets back to them.
Its like Lahiri is reading from her own life and experiences and is not doing anything to take the reader to…

New Home, and some Thanksgiving!

Yep, for me, Thanksgiving has come a little early. :-D There is a long list of people I have to thank for something big on this blog!Did you notice the URL of my food blog – www.themealalgorithm.com? Yes… I bought the domain – TheMealAlgorithm.com, mainly because I wanted to know how it feels to have your own domain, what with everyone having one of their own, and I having no clue on how to go about it. Well, for starters, it feels great. :-D Its been two days and I haven’t been able to get over it till now. :-)There was some major confusion, cluelessness and mayhem before I actually bought the domain. I wasn’t sure how to start about it, and what to do and all. GoDaddy.com was recommended by everyone, but when I actually was about to buy the domain off it, there was some problem with the payment options, and I had to cancel my order. Then I asked Nags of Edible Garden [which you should totally check out if you want to understand the nuances of food photography. Check out her blog for…

A Doll’s House - Review

Oh.My.GOD!
What a beautiful play!
In just under 100 pages, the concept of marriage and sacrifice are dealt and boundaries of love, admiration, friendship and desperation are treaded upon.Its a wonder that a play as good as this was written in the late 1800s, when being a woman meant something totally different from now. Yet again, this book proves that feminism, what it means to be a woman, what it is to have self-respect and not let anyone take you for granted have not changed in the past century, and women continue to face situations like how Nora has faced.Just as the reader admires Torvald's love for Nora and the adorable names he calls her, and still wondering why it feels so saccharine to me, the sudden jolt of the letter is felt, and Nora's strong personality is opened up. I was literally praying that the play turns the way I want it to , in my mind, and doesn't make Nora into a weakling for love. This book is a forever favourite, and I recommend every woman to read …

We weren’t lovers like that

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It is better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all, they say. But those who have loved and lost will tell you a different story, and more often than not , it will be that its better to not love at all than to lose a loved one. Losing a loved one to death would probably be much easier in one angle. You at least know that they were yours in living. But losing a loved one due to circumstances and situations, well.. that could be painful. You know the other person is living, and is not yours, and you will be in a quagmire of 'what-ifs'. But then, if you ask me, I’d say the person rather be living somewhere than be mine and dead. He/She is at least alive, but that’s a purely personal opinion. Aftab , the main protagonist of this book is an example of this. The pain a person goes through at having lost a loved one due to circumstances. Most of them created by himself because of his weak character. And as he is making the long train journey from Delhi to Haridwar, he i…

Inscrutable Americans

I was looking through some old blog posts in my other blogs, and saw what went through my head after I had finished reading this book. I don’t just have a review of this book, I also have an example of how I felt after I read it…
Here is one half of that blog post. The other half is all about how this is just a passable read etc, but this part is my favourite. Written 6 years ago, I LOLed again as I read this…
Dear Brother,
My respects to our Respectable Parents! I am doing fine here. And I am thinking that you are also doing fine there. Or is somebody fining you for what you are doing? Hahahaha... I am joking only of course. I am hoping you are not minding this.

Tell our parents that I am doing only prayers and office work and not doing anything that they asked me not to do. Also please inform Mother that I am feeling well and eating well too. I am not eating in any of the outside hotels because I am getting scared that the cooks there are not Brahmins. Dearest loving Mother asked me…