Something Fishy in the Feet

“Wouldn’t it hurt if they bite my skin?”

“They will just be nibbling, D.”

“But see, it seems like they have sharp teeth.”

“I doubt you can see any from behind your thick glasses.”

A sharp nudge of the arm. An indecisive look.

“They will all be staring at us!”

“So?”

“What if I want out?”

“I don’t think they will chain us.”

Point. The chamber hadn’t a roof and you didn’t need seatbelts.

“Hold me if I scream. Okay?”

“I will also click a picture.”

We rolled up our jeans and dusted our feet. Then, we put them right into several dozen hungry mouths.

“They tickle!”

“We are plenty of fodder, it seems.”

Pictures were clicked. Girls giggled, aunties rolled their eyes. The men were intrigued. Pune Central came rushing out to the fishy scene.

We, on our part, had half an hour of tickling pleasure. The doctor fish as they were called, nibbled our feet and feasted on the dead skin they found. Apart from the tickle, they left our feet feeling spring-cleaned.

“We also have whole body fish-spas…” the man at the counter drawled as we fished out cash.

I looked at R. He looked at me.

“Tell us more.”

Know thee, know thy tag.

Like I remember mentioning in another post, few things are as exciting as an award. The Zodiac which Dad read out the other day promised grand things like foreign travel and scintillating moments with loved ones and spouses. I am not sure if any of that is working out, but I do have two little packages here, gift-wrapped in silver by Usha Di.

Saddi Delhi gets the ‘ABC Blogger Award’. What an alphabetic-al honour!

So the rules say: “You have to describe in a word or two, the first thing that comes to your mind, about you, when you think of the letter of the alphabet.”

Okay, here goes:

A – Awed at the amount of gossip some people seem to know
B – Book Lover
C – Cute. Or didn’t you know?
D – Darr-ling. R’s of course.
E – Eccentric.
F – Fish-Non-Eater
G – Gorger of Palak Paneer
H–Huge Foot-ed. I don’t get shoes my size.
I – Idiot Bargainer
J- Junglee Billi Lover. Even the dogs.
K- Kaleiodoscopic Wardrobe
L – Little patience if you’re too loud
M – Moody
N – No aptitude for crossing the roads
O – Oranges-are-the-best-fruits believer
P – Punctual
Q – Quality over quantity in most matters
R – Routine oriented
S – Silent treatment meted out on occasions
T – Travel lover!
U- Ultra sensitive about certain issues
V – Vanish into my hole when stressed
W – Wood-floor enthusiast
X – X’massy. Complete with the golden stars, jingling bells and green paper.
Y – Yours, truly. And loyally.
Z – Zestful

Next in queue: Saddi Delhi gets ‘The Elevenses Tag’. Eleven questions in one shot ain’t bad at all!

This time the rules are:

1. You must post the rules.

2. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.

3. Tag eleven people and link to them on your post.

4. Let them know you’ve tagged them!

First, my answers to the questions Usha Di set me here.

1. In one word, what have you gained, in life, that you hold most precious? (there, that rules out “weight” )

Love.

2. In three words, a pet peeve?

Gossiping overstuffed aunties.

3. A word you think you use a lot, unconsciously?

Per se.

4. What is it that you love to do, most, and would rather spend your time doing it?

Write! I wouldn’t mind interesting venues though. For instance, by a blue-water beach where I can sip a cool drink and steal glances to check what is it that R is reading. (This post by Ashwathy is to be blamed for my afternoon mania.)

5. What do you think others think of you?

I really have no idea. There was this random person who told me I sound very mature. But R gives me this look when I giggle about earrings. I have a bed full of soft toys and they are all christened. My best girlfriend says I am a good listener. So you see, I can not say.

6. Who would you say made you who you are today (other than your parents, if that is what you would answer )

I would say, Matthew Sir. He was my English teacher in school and is now a part of our extended family. Very warm gentleman. He taught me how to maintain a notebook for vocabulary, one for phonetics. I still have them and the first word is ‘somnambulist’. He encouraged me to write, to speak, to narrate stories of people and places. Every time I tell him about a piece I am done with, he is all smiles. He gets me a big plum-cake every Christmas. I am at it for days.

7. What gives you joy?

First rain! Big and rounded rain drops that wet my skin from the sides of my umbrella and mist up the windows at home. The green leaves that flutter in the breeze and the birds that flee to their nests. The monsoonal sky that announces night-time way ahead of schedule. R asking me if I would like onion pakoras with coffee. Going round and round with outstretched arms and my favourite songs on the radio.

9. If you could go back to one moment in your past, which moment would it be?

The first time we went to Mussoorie, a ten year old D told her Dad that she had never been to the hills before. Neither had he, he told her. D dressed up as Tipu Sultan in Jhoola Ghar and nibbled on a sugar candy. She fell asleep early, tired out with her long day. The quilts in the hotel were nice, warm and pink.

10. Do you believe in alternate lifetimes? If so, what is the you there doing now? (It’s actually one question, with two parts )

Nope. But I believe in alters. For instance, there is one D who wants to order pizza this very moment. There is another D who is very stressed about what is going to happen next month.

11. What makes you you?

The genes, I guess. Coupled with experiences and the intriguing people life brings my way.

-

And now, the fun part. My questions and list of awardees.

The Questions:

1. Which is your favourite blog post? Why is that so?

2. If you could choose again, which is the profession you would choose for yourself?

3. Do you believe in ghosts? If yes, briefly tell us about an encounter.

4. If it could be anywhere at all, where would you want to win a paid-vacation to? (I am not sponsoring it by the way.)

5. How do you ward off an irritating customer care call? Or do you straight away press the End Button?

6. Which is the best book you have ever read?

7. Do you have a dream in the closet? Something you wish you could get back to doing / start doing?

8. What scares you the most?

9. In one word, what is your current state of mind?

10. How do you ward off anxiety? Or, what is the one stressbuster that mostly works for you?

11. What do you ask people to initiate small talk, say on a long-haul flight or a train ride?

The Awardees, in alphabetical order (for both awards / tags):

* Aditya, Bikram, Bhavia, Bhagya, Chica, Deeps, Nimue, Novroz, Pepper, Shree, Zee *

Do line up soon with your award speeches so I can ask the shutterbugs to leave.

And once again, Usha Di – thank you.

Navarasa by Lotus: Book Review

(Short Stories / Fiction: INR 125/-)

Lotus? What sort of a name is that? No, do not worry, no lotuses have been personified in compiling this collection of nine interlinked stories. The feat has actually been done by Rajiv Kumar and how. Navarasa by Lotus is a 162-pager quick-read of nine tales, all belonging to genres as different as chalk and cheese.

The book kick-starts with the mutinous ‘Seed’ which introduces us to Rajanath, an erstwhile film star who now stands staring at the gallows. Ho hum, you say. Now where have we read this before? As you flip to the next tale, you meet a common-man who suddenly gets his fifteen minutes of fame. And this isn’t through a musical reality show.

However, you actually wake up to Navarasa with its third story – ‘Mutiny’. A few words down and you are transported to Mosquito Land. Literally. Reminding you in a vague way of Orwell’s Animal Farm, Mutiny talks of how a group of talking and mating mosquitoes get together with street dogs, ant flies and crows to take revenge on the cruel humans who gassed their cousins. Now, this tale, though very meticulous, may get on the nerves of someone not initiated to this world of you know, communicating animals. But for many others, this could be the best bet in the book.

In the latter half, the book focuses more and more on science fiction. Though here too the genres are different – horror, wonder – they all border on the fantastical. Especially well written is the story of Lucky  – a woman who wakes up one morning to a strange dream and finds it coming true. Even ‘N.H.’, a take on time travel and the world beyond the dreaded apocalypse of 2012, is a fascinating read. The issue with these stories is that they leave you with an unfailing sense of déjà vu. Though all original pieces of fiction, perhaps they take inspiration from one source too many.

Coming to some technical issues with the publication – the paragraphs seem very cluttered, almost starving for space. But then, perhaps the publisher had a cap on the number of pages the book could have. A more thorough proofreading session would also have helped avoid this mention of the same.

Rajiv Kumar has the knack of handling back and forth narration expertly. The transitions between the stories are fluid and the interlinks – which are the USP of the book – are well established through recurring characters and webbed circumstances. Towards the end of the book, the ‘Lotus’ connection also comes to the fore, in an interesting and all-encompassing tongue in cheek fashion.

Navarasa by Lotus is easy to read, even easy to film if you know what I mean. Though the stories do not leave you feeling very satiated, they keep true to the title and are never taxing. If you are looking for a casual read on an airplane for instance, you might consider picking this up.

-

The author, Rajiv Kumar, had sent me a review copy. Irrespective of how the review and the book is received, this note is to say that I enjoyed reading it. I wish him all the best for his future endeavours and I hope I can continue being a part of them.

The Old Man and Wife

The toy-train to Shimla braves the wind and rain to carry passengers to the lovely hill-town.

The toy-train ride to Shimla is quite an experience. The narrow-gauge rail snakes around hills and valleys and you need to slide windows to prevent a wild bush from scratching your cheeks. However, the experience gets some ‘flavoured’ fervour when you have a seat right next to the train loo. I got a chance to go through as much while travelling to the lovely Himachal capital years ago.

For one, the loo was very basic – devoid of fancy fresheners, if you please – and for a second, it wasn’t scaled up to cater to a dozen full bladders. I covered my face with a handkerchief every time someone opened the door and a whiff of air brought in fresh perfume. The old lady sitting opposite us offered a tissue to her old man. I looked at her keenly as she tugged at the sides of her black handbag.

“I had no idea we would get such bad seats…”, she sounded upset, “you aren’t even able to enjoy the view.”

“Never mind,” the old man chuckled, “at least you are safeguarded from the scent, tucked in your corner seat!”

I smiled. The old man – at least a good seventy years of age – was dressed in a sporty tee and pants, both too loose for his frail body. The lady on her part, had on a sombre sari.

They caught me staring and the man grinned. “Nice tee I am wearing, am I not? I told Mala that I am not too old for these yet.”

The lady gave me a conscious smile. “Beta, he has a little problem of asthma. But he did not heed me one bit when I advised against coming to the hills. You know all this huffing and puffing at this age-”

“Tch.” said the old man. “If not now, when will I see the mountains? And dine at a Mac Donald’s?” he rolled his eyes. “When I grow old?”

The couple, originally from Punjab, was out to vacation in Shimla and then go up to Manali. The old man wanted to pick blossoms from the ‘Valley of Flowers’ and present them to his wife, ride a horse at Kufri and get pictures clicked and finally dig into chicken at an open-roof restaurant. The lady nodded her head all through but managed to put in a word about returning home soon.

“Bahu has a hard time bathing the little one…” she began, but was brushed aside with a scowl.

“I think it is high time you visit a Turkish bath yourself.” the man turned to me. “Beta, our bahu works in her office from morning to night and hasn’t a worry in her head. All very good for our son who has been dying to invest in a house but all the time I get with Mala is when she is serving us food at night.”

The lady looked uncomfortable and fidgeted with her bag again. The man went on.

“Now they have a little son…”, his eyes lit up, “wonderful boy he is. I scoop him up in my arms and point to the bough outside, where the koel sits and sings.” he paused for breath. “But I miss the time when my Mala would sing for me and no koels could dream of vying with her.”

The toy-train took a steep turn, bringing us closer to the conifers and sweeping skies of Shimla. A gust of wind, sprightly and mischievous, danced about our compartment. Smile, it seemed to say.

“Where are you putting up in Shimla?” I asked the couple, partly to put the dear lady at ease.

“He has booked us a hotel in Mall Road. Said a travel website did it all for him. The tariffs are outrageous but then, so is he.” the lady shook her head. “You know beta, I took his medicines to him this morning and he threw them away when I wasn’t looking.”

The old man turned defensive. “How can you say that? I drank them all up like a good boy. And the deal we got, by the way, was the best you can have.” He looked at me. “Beta, she is miffed because I brought bahu in question. But you tell me, is it wrong if I ensure she gets a break sometimes? You know, for instance, pamper her hair and mine?”

“Oh be rest assured.” the dear lady now sounded chirpy. “Your head massage with oil will not be forgotten.”

I laughed. “Make sure you sing for Dadaji this time. Then I am sure he won’t throw tantrums about his medicines.”

The lights come out in the hill-town as evening rapidly turns into night.

Evenings in Shimla are a delight. The good-looking shawls come out of closets and thela-wallas gear up for the day’s hot snacks. Bhutta, samosas, tikkis, you name it. The streets light up with neon and laughter and the valleys of Kalka below, sport glittery beads of various shades. As I walked down a lane, I spotted the couple in a restaurant. Open roof, festive and bright. The old man was tapping his feet to the lively music. His wife was looking around with awed eyes. She smiled when a waiter came along with a big tray of steaming food.

Even in Shimla’s twilight chill, my heart warmed. It does even now when I think about the couple – chattering and teasing and perked up about their big holiday. If it was their desire to spend a few fleeting moments together that first drew me to them, it is now more. Over time, I have realized the importance of a loved one’s reassurance on a stormy day. The very belief that come what may, frail or frayed, love will never grow old… I tell you, the feeling is splendid.

Discovering new alleys together is certainly one of life’s little pleasures; it never fails to surprise me how every new street we walk down has new tales to uncover. Somewhere there will be an old man like him with an undying spirit of adventure. A lady like her, adept at suppressing desires and dreams, out to relive moments of togetherness. A town perhaps, withdrawn yet beautiful, promising the moon and actually sending it over in a ribbon-ed package.

And probably, someone like you, waiting to listen to a tale and tell a few of yours.

♦♦

*Written as a part of “Around the world with Expedia!” contest on Indiblogger. Brand ‘Expedia’ – the one word for travel – is not new for the travellers among us and that, is no mean number. I wonder if the Punjabi pair I met was assisted by Expedia.

To read more entries to this splendid drive, and spread some love on mine, go here.

We turn Two

Dear Saddi Delhi,

Quite a traveller’s life you have been leading, bloggie. While your first birthday was celebrated in Pune, here you are in Delhi now, getting ready for the second. And as for the location of the next one, only God’s crystal ball can predict as much. (Of course, I can always send in a helpful recommendation…)

I hope you don’t take too long at the salon. The roads will already be crowded with Valentine’s birds and birdies. You know, people who want to look good for the candlelit dinner. (But then, candle lighting is already the best makeup. Hides blemishes, pimples and crow’s feet like magic!) You bloggie, will also be needing a thorough cleansing session. Delhi’s grime and grit has settled on your skin. I am hoping that some of Pune’s recent radiance will have allayed the damage done by the dead cells of hurt and longing.

You have been a good kid, Saddi Delhi. In March last year, I was very bothered about the high hand I would have to keep on you. But you have been obliging me with plenty of interesting tales. You have even been getting me free books at the doorstep. New subscribers. New tags, new pictures. And a statistics graph that on peacock-vain mornings, looks like a high-rise. I have heard it is a bad practice to indulge in children comparison. That is especially true in your case – you are but an alter of “Of Paneer, Pulao and Pune” and the question of who the dominant personality is doesn’t vex me. I like to believe that the two cities have given you an excellent amalgam of sorts. Like you have some of Delhi’s mischief and temper, a sprinkling of Pune’s exuberance. Moreover, I have newly observed you nurturing dreams of weddings and houses and naughty thing, you have actually been filling R’s ears about it!

Do not sigh; I am not complaining. I appreciate that things take time and rushing them is not always a possibility. Just like I am willing to wait for a housewarming ceremony, you also need to wait for a theme change. Depending on the next bend in the road, we will together be moving to new quarters. You have many more heights to achieve, many more stories to tell. I can see your bag of thoughts filled up to the brim. On your second birthday, I pray that you go from strength to strength. May your readership expand; may you glow like a thousand lights on a Christmas tree. By the by, I look forward to all the surprises you have told me are planned.

Do not forget to make it to the venue straight from the salon. On your behalf, I am sending everyone invites. I hope they join us for the cake cutting and shower you with blessings (and subscriptions). Then, like the good host, make sure to thank them all for the love and appreciation they have extended to this humble dwelling on WordPress.

Love, Deboshree

Source: drinknectar.com

♥ Happy birthday Saddi Delhi / Of Paneer, Pulao and Pune!  ♥

Pune. I love.

A trip to Pune is a lesson in contradictions. I look forward to it for weeks at end but often spend evenings torn between emotions. Airports and cabs and auto rickshaws give me a strange, alien feeling – you are not really living here. You are just a tourist, the automobiles seem to say. I cannot pick one favourite restaurant to go and dine in and spend a lot of dinner trying to stretch the hours. This time was no different. I am back from Pune after a week and can only manage to bullet-point my thoughts. Just about. So here goes…

* Chaturshringhi Temple is overflowing with pretty white flowers. They are common ones otherwise but when atop a tree, bundled together in heaps, make an awe-inspiring *picture.

* Agneepath is quite a headache-inducer. Ah I am not being derogatory – I am sure it can be entertaining if you are keen on that sort of thing. All it gave me was a horrible nightmare featuring a bald and eyebrow-waxed Sanjay Dutt. (No gyan on action-is-not-your-thing please. I had gone to see a fairly harmless Gali Gali Me Chor Hai)

* Good Luck Cafe hasn’t had luck with icecreams yet. We would always order the jelly with ice cream only to be told that the jelly had run out. This time the ice-cream had run out as well.

* Coffee Shop is expanding its branches. There is a new one near my former flat for instance. When I asked them if they have anything to eat, they said evenings are only for coffee. A lot can happen over a cup they added. Let the stomachs growl.

* An old colleague gets married today. I heard he had tried to put on weight, albeit unsuccessfully. So he will now return to Pune a married man. How cool is that!

* Election campaigning is on in full swing. Auto rickshaws play patriotic songs and billboards are painted afresh. Quite a festival it is.

* Sharvaree serves awesome food. They have Maharashtrian cuisine on the ground floor (called Shabree) and multi-cuisine upstairs. There is delicious stuff like potatoes stuffed with paneer, dal that has the perfect tadka, spicy red chutney and soft, buttery naans. Must try!

* Crossword is now equipped with toys that go grrr! when pressed. A crocodile croaks, a bird coos. There are also two cars priced at 30k which are good enough to ride. To say nothing of the CD collections they have. I acquired a copy of Malgudi Days. Can’t wait to re-see.

I am going back on the 19th but that’s only for two days. I am longing for the day to come soon when all this coming and going will be reduced to holidays and functions back in Delhi and Pune will not look at me like an occasional visitor. R says the time will come soon. I trust him.

A Wedding, a detour and a flight to Pune!

A cousin ties the knot tomorrow. The golden, jewel-studded knot of prospective marital bliss. We will all be dressing up in finery and going to this banquet hall that will have music and good food. I can already see myself gazing at her wedding sari and the glowing lights overhead.

I have always been fascinated by weddings. Yes, I hate it when you have to stand all alone and look at groups of people chattering away among themselves. That would happen to me when I was in school and was taken to weddings of every A, B and C who lived within ten miles of our block. Now, this wedding doesn’t come with such scenarios as I will be familiar with many of the people who will be turning up. In another time, I would have spent hours getting my outfit ready and sorting out jewellery. But my mind is preoccupied.

The day after the wedding, I will be travelling. Quite a lot of travelling. It will be a new city and a new village and an experience that lies merrily shrouded in mist. I have no idea what will transpire in that new land though I have been preparing to unravel the mist for a long time now. I sound lost do I not? But my mind is preoccupied.

What preoccupies my mind, do you ask?

Well it is simple. The day I will walk away from the new village – precisely on the 7th – I will be flying to – hold your breath – Pune! Sheesh. And we thought you were going vacationing with R to Africa’s land of lions. Now, Pune may not exactly be a universal Wonderland, but for this Alice, it certainly is.

(Come to think of it, wouldn’t it have been grand had this post been in first person? I mean, the wedding bit…)

I wish there would be no return flights to catch. I wish I could unlock my former flat and sneak into the corner bed with its yellow quilt. The curtains would be dancing in the breeze and there would be a lone flower on the mantlepiece…

I have a couple of interviews lined up in Pune. Two, actually. And then there is one more later in the month. So that boils down to almost a week in the city. When I am done being interviewed, R and I can go check out if Art Beat still serves palak paneer and has the same smiling guy to wait on us. We can also go dine in Good Luck Cafe and relish some of the amazing khaana. To save myself being labelled a glutton, I also plan a trip to Chaturshringhi Temple, ICC, F.C. Road and J.M. Road. I wonder if these places will recognize me from March last year.

It’s been a long while away from Pune. Now that I think of it, it surprises me how long I have been away! How did I spend the long and lazy summer afternoons? Did the monsoon and its first rain not tantalize me? Did I actually get through Christmas without an aww moment at the decorations in Pune Central? I shake my head in dismay. I actually did.

I apologize, Pune. But I am coming back to make amends. It may be only a week now but if you forgive me, it might be a lifetime. The way R and I adulate you – gosh, you should be beaming from your left ear to the right.

God. Pray there be no detour(s) whatsoever now. Wish me lots of luck and get set going with me to ace every hurdle. Here I come!

Jal Board joins “Water the Roads”, campaigners pleased

Jal Board joins "Water the Roads" campaign - currently active in the streets and houses of Delhi

NEW DELHI: Delhi Jal Board is the latest addition to the popular *“Water the Roads”"campaign taken up by people and agencies alike in the capital. The tanker-people, owing to their Jal Board label, stand a good chance of coming out tops in this pseudo irrigation scheme.

“Water the Roads” has a lineage that dates back to several years ago. Though the origins are unclear, houses in Delhi’s posh localities are generally touted to have started it. These houses are housed with forgetful people who keep their water pumps and pipes in perennial switch on mode and water generously trickles down from their rain water pipes. The campaign has now been taken by several individuals and institutions (over-enthusiastic gardeners, mineral water disposers, construction sites), the Jal Board adding a substantial pillar to the count.

It is said that the mission of the campaign is cleanliness – next only to godliness. The Delhi roads, claim experts, are prone to dust and grime and it is a Delhi-ite’s duty to ensure that streets get their watery due. The campaign is also said to contribute to the end of achieving stark disparities in water distribution. Residents of campaign-covered areas claim that a house down the lane finds enough water to bathe their two dogs thrice a day while another has to make do with soap and mud for a morning bath. Authorities say that the picture is likely to become more entertaining when summer arrives.

“Water the Roads is picking up well. As a bonus, we are also working on ‘Renaming the Roads’. Anybody with an interesting enough relative can apply for a marg.” said a campaigner, on the condition of anonymity. “I don’t understand why some people complain about leaking taps in the tankers. It is a matter of great pride to see them(Jal Board)  joining hands with us.” said his fellow-mate.

While opinions may vary on the relevance of this unique mission, it is very likely that taps – both leaking and dried – will continue to contribute to its cause.

* campaign not truly in existence. Thank God.

A Calendar Too Crowded: Book Review

Fiction / Short Stories (INR 295)

The title is cryptic. Does the book talk about busy lives in the city? But then it has the picture of a poignant woman. Is this then a tale of a multi-tasking modern lady? The answer to the riddle comes when you flip through the pages. What Sagarika Chakraborty has got together for her readers is a stunning compilation, scattered across the year. “A Calendar Too Crowded” tells stories of women we know, have heard of, or possibly, are. These are stories that continue to happen in various households around the globe, irrespective of the special “days” allotted to check them.

Sagarika’s women do not have names, do not often have faces. But they are fleshed out in vivid detail. In “Finding a Mother…”, there is a woman – married and pregnant – observing a modern-day mother before visiting an abortion clinic. She finds it odd that the school-boy needs to have tuitions in primary school and forget all about his mother when his friends arrive. In another household, in stark contrast, there is a woman who cannot be a mother. At the helm of things, a successful middle-ager enjoys a cruise trip with her daughter – born “artificially” – and enjoys the good life of luxury and strawberries. But Chakraborty doesn’t leave it at that. In the course of the story, we are made to wonder – doesn’t the woman crave the presence of a man, a husband, a lover? Are the newfangled norms of social and financial independence over-hyped when they cannot answer the need for err, passion? Hear, hear.

The questions are plenty. Sample some. How can anyone comfort the little girl who wakes up one day to a bloody bed and is henceforth supposed to behave like a lady? (Behind those Whispers – too brand-friendly a name?) When will society truly come to accept that a lifetime of isolation and whites may not be what will please either a widow or her dead husband? (Witch without a Broomstick) The style in which they are asked is impressive. It does get a tad bit overdone when many of the stories reiterate their questions over and over again, in the same words. But Sagarika makes up for glitches by keeping her stories succinct, crisp and for the most part, enjoyable.

Given the sensitive theme, the reading sometimes tends to be heavy. Even sad. But then, it is all very real and presented without any frills or fancy. Emotional relief (and a smile) comes by way of two stories: The Homecoming and Knowledge Beyond Printed Letters. Anyhow, considering this is the author’s first work, her ability to get under the skin of so many varied women – an “escort”, a rape/domestic violence victim, a hot-shot professional – alike, is commendable.

All in all, A Calendar Too Crowded is a very well-researched and relevant literary work. Though the voice is strongly feminist and the theme is one that almost rules out pleasure reading, this is one book that encourages thought. Especially so in a time when every second page of the newspaper tells of crime and every second person in society enjoys being a gossip-monger.

Rating: 

This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!

Time for some tagging!

Few things allure me as much as a good old award. My eyes shine and my ears wag. Even if it is a blogging tag that some noble soul dropped at my door. I love those noble souls. So coming to the point, I am setting about on a little tagging business. Some acknowledgment, some tagging of my own and a glorious amount of gloating.

To set the mood, I will start with the gloating.

Saddi Delhi gets the “Liebster Blog Award”

Zee, thank you very much for this really cute award. Though you did not hand out the adorable badge (that goes with the award) to me, I have stolen it from your blog anyway. An award coming from the fantastic writer that you are is twice the gloating.

Saddi Delhi gets three “Versatile Blogger Award(s)”, a “Candle Lighter Award” and “Christmas Blogger Award”

Usha di, I always maintain that you should start mentoring people on a professional basis. Right from the days I used to post poems on our little poetry community to the current blogging scene, you ensure I get my occasional smile. Wait, make that beaming smile.

Deeps and Bikram have also given me the “Versatile Blogger Award”. Again, a pleasure to get this award from them, given that their opinionated and well-fleshed out posts are ones I am hooked to reading.

~

The responsibilities that most of these awards entail include nominating bloggers who, in my opinion, deserve their round of Filmfare speeches. And oh, a peculiar clause of sharing 7 things about myself. So, allowing myself a little cheating now and again, here goes:

7 Deboshree facts:

1. I have been known to eat wafers for breakfast. I drink it down with orange juice and tell the world I eat a healthy diet. I love it if and when the weighing scale agrees with me.

2. I am one of the sadists who enjoy 2012 theories. It’s a task persuading R to concur and give in to let’s-get-married ideas.

3. My fingers get frostbitten every winter. I have no clue why considering I have lived most of my life so far in Delhi and it doesn’t get all that cold. No gloves, creams or heat pads seem to give me respite. Was I an Antartican in a previous birth? – wonders Mom.

4. In a recent post, Tanishka expressed her dislike of love stories. On my part, I love listening to them! I am game for a best practices sharing session with an old girl friend from school, one who just got married or a roomie who’s facing family feud over the matter. All ears.

5. I am dying to book a certain travel ticket. Train or plane or whatever. I am just dying to do it!

6. I haven’t read a book from cover to cover since The Best of Quest. I am still stuck in the middle of Golden Gate and another called Brand Bollywood. My reading time has been seriously impacted by all that is presently going on in life.

7. Overcast mornings give me a splitting headache. More often than not. But I love it when it rains at night and I can hear the raindrops.

The 7 Awardees:

1. WriterzBlock/Pal blogs from WriterzBlock
She writes on subjects as diverse as night and day. They are all done up vibrantly, in shades of humour and insight. Some fantastic reading.

2. Nimue blogs from Pages from my mind
Lady N: Poetic Delight
Her poems: Vivid, soulful and crisp

3. Scribby blogs from This and That
I have only one word for her writing: Entertaining! Now that may sound like I have recently watched rushes of The Dirty Picture (they have actors calling the film “entertainment” everywhere I look), but trust me on this. This blogger really knows how to get her point across and brilliantly at that.

4. Kartikay blogs from Callous Caffeinated Conversations
Like the name, the blog is caffeinated too. In the absorbing, riveting way. And no, it certainly ain’t callous.

5. Bhavia blogs from Je Suis Blogging
She has one hell of an eventful life. Laced with falls and bruises. This place captures all the madness in a total fun style. Joyride!

6. Novroz blogs from Kame and Kroten Blog
Animal lover that Novroz is, her blog is a delight for all of her kind. Her two pet darlings – beautiful turtles – host it themselves. So the next time you need a fact straightened, you can hear it from the turtle’s mouth!

7. Sudha blogs from My Favourite Things
She clicks stunning pictures, writes equally stunning travelogues and even does in-depth book reviews. This blog may claim to be about her favourite things, but she may need to rethink that one.

By the by, there are umpteen other blogs I wanted to write about. But with several constraints – the need to help with lunch no small one – I zeroed down on the above on a first come, first serve basis.