Crime: Experience and Review

Our bike got stolen a few days ago.

(I’m not kidding you.)


(Who jokes about things like that?!!)

Our brand new Pulsar 150 DTSi, the gleaming black adorable beastie, which we’d bought just this Gudi Padwa (March 22, 2012) vanished in broad daylight from the Pulse parking lot (which we later learnt was not the “official” parking place).

Didn’t know this happens in Pune.
Can’t believe it happened to us.

Aren’t good things supposed to happen to good people?
And if not, can’t at least the bad things stay away?

Life’s not fair, I knew it. After all, can’t expect a hungry lion not to eat you coz you’re vegetarian. But this very disappointing. Very annoying. All my optimism has gone astray and my peace of mind is shattered.

All the good muhurat banter while buying the bike seems like nonsense now, and I have little faith in Indian policemen and justice-vendors now that the vehicle’s lost. All we can do now is wait a while and claim theft insurance that we fortunately took. However, the pain won’t go away, and the wound will stay. It’s not fair. And there’s nothing we can do about it. Period.

Let’s move on to the book review requested by Blogadda : The Devotion of Suspect X by Keigo Higashino.

(Phew.)

Don’t get me wrong, I’m far from being racist or discriminating, but with lengthy Japanese words, reading and writing becomes a daunting task. So much so, that I have a mental block towards making an attempt to comprehend those seemingly similar and equally complicated names of people and streets. I more than once skipped the name and came back later to verify it when a prior reference was made. I am aware that not all global citizens have easy names - Spanish, French and Italian, for instance. But this post is about the BOOK review, so let’s bid adieu to deviating linguistic discussions.

“Sometimes, all you had to do was exist in order to be someone's saviour.”  



Fantastic thought, innit...?? 

The story revolves around a police investigation of the murder of a man who had divorced his wife but continued to haunt and harass her. It involves in important characters, the man and his wife, their young daughter and two wanna-be-lovers of the woman apart from the detectives and an informal sleuth. 

(Pls do not ask me to name them; have pity on me and the remainder of the post. However, Ishigami is my favorite character... He's one of the two wanna-be-lovers, and a very smart and sincere mathematician.)

As the plot builds up, there are a variety of twists that will confuse you, astonish you, impress you and then strike you as totally reasonable. You will find yourself feeling empathy and anger, frustration and trepidation. Alibis, love, wit, worry, thrill, simplicity – this novel has it all. You will feel pity and concern for the murderer and accomplices, and hate the victim’s guts. You can connect with the people who wish to protect their loved ones, yet fear and applaud the cold, calculative and accurate ways of the geniuses. The detective's inclination to let off the hook some folks, and frustration over not comprehending the situation will appeal to you as will the sympathy that most people feel towards an exploited woman. 


Under no circumstances will you be able to predict what comes next. What more could a reader wish for?

To me, the book is more about the clever and rapid interaction between the sleuth and lover of the woman, two alumni and friends, than anything else. Their speed of thought and action is amazing, and their respect for each other’s intelligence is awe-inspiring.

Serendipity hit when I read in black and white, two ideas that I’d always toyed with, myself. One, is it more difficult to solve a challenging problem or to create one. Two, is it easier to solve a problem yourself or check if someone else has done it accurately.

How they form part of this post and the story, I shall let you discover for yourself.

The book is a quick read, I finished it in just a few hours in a very busy week. The narration is fantastic – direct, uncomplicated and engaging. I did not realise when I finished 50 then 100 pages and finally 200 pages. It’s been a while since I read a novel that made me forget the ticking of the clock, and that this book achieved this feat is no lean task. Good job there, Mr. Writer (ahem! I’m not taking names…!!)

Apparently, this book sold over 2 million copies in Japan and became a national obsession in 2005 post which it was translated in English in 2011. It has also been made into a cult film. My, I would like to watch that sometime…

But for now, grab your copy of the Devotion of Suspect X… and enjoy the chase!

Cheerio!
Princess


Sign up for the http://blog.blogadda.com/2011/05/04/indian-bloggers-book-reviews" target="_blank">Book Review Program for http://www.blogadda.com">Indian Bloggers. and get free books! Participate now!

Amen to Life... and Struggles

Have you seen the Mula river, the part near the Holkar bridge?

Its surface is filled with green plants – water hyacinth, I believe (that’s the only relevant one I remember from my school days).

The other day, when I passed by that area, I grew extremely restless. I couldn’t take my eyes off the view nor could I blow away this feeling of dread and doom.

A gurgling, flowing river would never allow plants to grow on top of the waves. Nor would it permit them to stay and cover its entire surface to the extent that it appears like a green lawn rather than a blue stream.

When one living thing tolerates another living on top of it, what happens to its own life?

Death is imminent, if not today, then tomorrow. However, dying while you’re still alive, is that what some living things aim for? Is that considered virtuous and praiseworthy?

Nothing personifies life as accurately and beautifully as a river. Its swaying curves, the liveliness around its banks, the soothing sound of the waters, the elegance of its confidence and sense of duty towards the awareness to keep moving. A river is synonymous with growth, vivacity and spirit.  

And yet, when it’s flow is successfully obstructed by another thing, living or non-living, should we approve of its flexibility and generosity, or condemn it for being spineless and ambitionless?

I read Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged recently. Had read Fountainhead earlier and loved it, but was daunted by the size and solemnity of the prequel. The characters in both novels are so strong, so focussed and so assured about themselves and their goals. Howard Roark. Dagny Taggart. Henry (Hank) Rearden. John Galt. Francisco D’anconia...

They, who have the awareness of their purpose in life, are massacred by those that purely exist for making life hell for others without no capability or strength of their own. Yet, the first folks continues to fight and rebel, while the second continue to make their lives difficult. Who wins? Intermittently, the second category. They crush the efforts and the will of the first group, succeeding momentarily yet not emerging victorious in the long run. The first group leaves no stone unturned and no action incomplete. The second set find new and pathetic ways to curb their victories. The productive first folks are exploited and harassed by the second directionless and useless second group.

Would you want the second to take over the first? Coz that’s what is happening with the Mula river that is being encroached and destroyed by the water hyacinth… The river surface is almost entirely covered by the greens, so much so that is appears like a lawn, and not a water body.

I went past the bridge again a few days ago. Noticing a small pool of water in the greens that I hadn’t earlier, I turned to take a better look.

Looks like the concerned bodies have asked for the water hyacinth to be removed.

:-)

Long live life and productivity, and the people who make it possible!!!


They might be few, but they shall win in the end.

Don't be afraid of struggles, they make you stronger... and they're a sign that you're alive... Whoever challenged a dead man??


May you win, and may goodness prevail.

Amen.

Cheerio!
Princess

Inertia

The entire world’s closing in on me as I sink into an oblivion wherein I can neither float nor rise.

Maybe that’s what I must do now. Give in. Not resist. Not fight back. Just lie back and be numb.

Watch the scenes racing past me until I hit rock bottom and collide with the mass that will save me from this painful consciousness.

Sometimes death’s a rescue; a thing to embrace and not to fear or avoid.

Life is not easy. There are all kinds of situations to deal with, all kinds of people to face, all kinds of troubles to solve, and all kinds of discomforts to put up with.

Why all the hullaballoo about death? It’s living that is more difficult, laborious and agonizing.

The best of us learn how to adapt, and how to act. How to retain our sanity and honesty in a world that demands various shades of being true and fake.

A married woman who claims to love her husband and spends hours writing poetry about another prospective lover.

A sly guy who would spare no effort in fooling and licking up to the ones that can aid him in his pursuit of an easy, entertaining and effortless life.

An arrogant man who can pull the reins that he holds, but with no hold over the minds of the hardworking and efficient team that he heads.

A man who believes that he was born to be taken care of, not deserving of dignity or awe, but expecting everything as his prerogative.

Acquaintances who pretend to like each other and can’t wait to put down the very person they proudly and very overtly hail, as soon as their backs are turned.

Hypocrites that do not have the courage to stand up and accept the truth that may damage their so-called image or prospects.

An exploitative, ungrateful family that hurts and destroys the simple, loving son who still yearns and tries to fulfil their each and every need.

Leaders who pretend to want nothing of their own, yet scamper for cover and torch the ones below when the first sight of doom presents itself.

Friends who wait to be called in times of need and renounce friendships at the drop of a hat.

People who announce that they’re god’s gift to the universe, those that can’t make one intelligible conversation that does not reek of half-baked lies and pomposity.

Oh, what world do we live in?

Adapt and act...

Sometimes, you just need to give in. Lie back and watch the drama.

And if you’re lucky, you get some popcorn to go with it :-)

Hang in there, good times are not too far away !!!

Cheerio!
Princess

When I gave you up...

When I gave you up,
I forsake a life of insecurity,
I embraced a new hope,
When I gave you up.

When I gave you up,
I let go of the fears that you bestowed,
I razed my compromised wishes,
And dared to live,
When I gave you up.

When I gave you up,
I chose a strength,
One that let me be me,
And not cower under your desires,
I opened my eyes to courage,
When I gave you up.

When I gave you up,
I learnt that I was not less significant,
That I was not merely a tool for your happiness,
To be there for you when you were low,
I deserved to be prized and treasured too,
I saw my own value,
When I gave you up.

When I gave you up,
I felt the pain and anguish,
Of losing what is held close and divine,
What I thought was the necklace adorning me,
Was the very noose that tightened around my neck,
Every moment I nurtured you and squashed my needs,
I relinquished a life of servitude,
When I gave you up.

When I gave you up,
Freedom and joy seemed strange,
A novelty I was afraid to get used to,
I sought your hand in mine,
I screamed in my head for you to come and hug me,
Tell me that my place was with you,
But Fate could see me sad no more.
It gave me a new chance, a better one,
When I gave you up.

When I gave you up,
I realised that I was not really giving you up,
I was only moving on to what lay ahead,
It was priceless, and it was my destiny,
That I shied away from, coz I called you my own,
A new love, a greater existence,
Where I could demand and expect,
Not that it was required, coz the world was placed at my feet,
I met somebody that outshone you a thousand times,
When I gave you up.

And now as I thank the person that loves me beyond my wildest dreams,
I am so thankful that I gave you up…

As I walk along with my angel sent down from paradise,
I rejoice that I gave you up…
And I wish I’d given you up sooner…

In My World...

Hi there fellas,

It’s been a while since I last wrote… About me I mean. Directly and autobiographically.

Truth be told, there was so much happening that I was too exhausted physically and mentally to sit down and write about it.

Work’s been taking a toll on me as life professionally does not seem at a great high. I’m doing the same old and trying to kick the boredom out by seeking the novel and un-monotonous. Not been too successful, so biding my time until circumstances are more opportune and bright. As they say, sometimes you just gotta wait… coz there’s nothing else you can do.

Did I tell you I holidayed in Goa in Feb? Spent a week there, didn’t wana come back. It was terrific. Having sightseen all of the state, there was little left for me to do apart from relax. That’s exactly what I meant to do. I spent half the week on the bed in my hotel, catching up on sleep and lazing around. The remaining half was obviously spent in shacks and on the beach relishing the sight of the waves and the delicious food and drinks. A week passed in the blink of an eye; nostalgia grips me as I live through each drab day back at the grind.

The fun bit is, I read barely a page of the book that I’d carried with me, intending to finish. This is remarkably unbelievable, given the readaholic I am. I have no clue how those 24 hours in a day rushed past, or how an entire week obliterated in a matter of seconds. Playing Angry Birds at Aggie’s on Calangute beach and roaming on an FZ through the lanes that led to Fort Aguada, playing with the water and sipping mindblowing coffee at German Bakery (yeah!! GB !!), a luxurious dinner at After Seven with a delightful host, chatting in the lively Baga beach lane and marvelling at the changes at the Flying Dolphin shack that I visited about 5 years ago on my maiden trip to Goa… Feb 11 to Feb 18 – shan’t forget you for a long time to come, and will come back to refresh memories as soon as I possibly can!!

Before leaving for my much needed vacation, I appeared for the final exam in Spanish. Not surprisingly, I scored 95% marks and aced the class. Call me nerd, geek or what you may, I barely studied, and yet was confident that I would do well. In fact, I promised myself to take it easy and not worry about marks (being the achievement-oriented good girl of my parents who makes them proud in every test or challenge). I wasn’t learning Spanish for an enviable mark-sheet; I was learning the language coz I was enamoured by it, and had been planning to do something new for a long time now.

The classes were heaps of fun, and I loved the jokes that I shared with my professor Mandar and my classmates Joyce, Vedika, and others. Teasing Amit, Zareen and Prajakta was never difficult, and the project display with Neerav and Hameet was a reminder of our school day presentations. Preparing for the cultural fest and studying for the tests and exams was enjoyable as well, and now, at the end of it all, I really miss those weekends when I got distressed coz I had to wake up early for class. Of course, now, without the practice and exposure, I’ve kinda lost touch with the language, but I still feel excited when I hear or see anything Spanish. Some connection, I guess.

I watched Kahaani last weekend, and I must admit, I can’t hate Vidya Balan anymore. Ask me why I want to hate her, and I don’t know how to answer that. But I was grossed out by the Silk Smita movie, and she is too bold for my liking. Yet, her acting is admirable, and I am reminded of Bhool Bhullaiya where she has delivered a fantastic performance. Given the scarcity of good female talent in Bollywood, I sure think she has arrived. She’s anyday better than Kareena, Sonakshi, Sonam and all the other newbies. Even Katrina is good to ogle at, but disappoints in terms of acting. Well well, that’s quite some praise, eh? Coming from me, Vidya’s definitely earned it :-)

I continue to read Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. I started reading quite a while ago, but hey, the book’s 1000 pages long, and I haven’t had too much spare time. Besides, it’s a heavy book, and I’m savoring every page. The characters are so dignified and strong – I wish I was half like them, uncaring about people and their opinions, confident about their own ambition and choices. I do know some people like that in real life, and I plan to get there someday. Retain my warmth and spontaneity, yet be strong and dauntless in times of confusion, doubt and chaos.

As each day passes, I wonder with increasing frustration, why it is that the bad folks are popular and the good ones bitched about… Is the world so full of hypocrites that they hail each other and let the decent ones feel sidelined and criticized? I manage to see the good in every person, regardless of my personal appraisal of them. Why, then, do they not see me for who I am? If they do, why do they prefer to keep the distance? Is it better to be ignored than to be hated? I reckon. After all, they who bitch, bitch about everybody including their so called “friends”. Better off out of that evil circle, right?

Anyway… I’m also reading Karl, Aaj aur Kal by Cyrus Broacha. The creative comic that he is, Cyrus tires and disappoints me when he tries too hard. And that is what is happening with this book. It dint get too rave a review, but I wanted to read something that was light and celebrity-related. And honestly, Cyrus deserves to be read once. Once. Ahem, get the point, right?!

My latest hangouts in town – Terttulia, though it’s expensive and Subway, healthy and evergreen. I’ve recently discovered Café Leo which is a branch of the Leopold in Mumbai. It serves their USP, tower beer, which as the name suggests, is beer in a tower. It’s thrilling more than anything else, and pretty inexpensive as well. 6 mugs for 600, not bad, eh? And the range of delicious starters (you cant miss the Chilly Potato!) makes the trip totally worth it. The mocktails and cocktails are cool, too. Must visit!!

That’s all for now, buddies. Wish you a very happy Gudi Padwa and may all your “sensible” dreams come true in this new year…

Loads of love and luck to you and me!!

Cheerio!
Princess

When the going gets tough...

His first love.

Hers too.

To her, each time felt like the first time.

Cougar relations don’t survive, her friends told her.

Well, time would tell. It had kept mum for the last 3 years.

They were still madly in love. More than the day they’d got engaged, and less than what they knew they’d feel in a few years time…

Their love was a thriller like no other. Movies with the same theme had released and flopped in B-town, but living that life was an altogether different “story”.

Boy loved girl. Girl was dating another guy. This guy broke her heart and she wanted to keep away from commitments of any sort. Boy approached girl. They became friends, and she did not realise when she fell in love with him.

The mad kinda love that cannot be held back or manipulated.

Miya biwi raazi, but the families objected. Kya karega qaazi.

They spent days, months and years convincing their parents. Telling them about how crazy they were for each other, and how desolate and helpless without each other. The parents did not relent. Not even when they threatened to elope. “Run away,” they said, “coz we shall never agree to this match.”

Matches were made in heaven. But their realisation was subject to conditions that weren’t clearly specified anywhere. How else would you describe and explain the sad tales of Heer-Ranjha, Romeo-Juliet, and all those famous, ill-fated couples?

It wouldn’t happen to them, they decided. Society would mock them for a few days and then find other gossip to chuckle over. This was a matter of their life, and they owed it to themselves to choose what they thought was right. What happened later, they would deal with, themselves.

They ran away and got married, there was no other way. Life was not a bed of roses, but their love kept budding every day and blossoming every night. The scent of their bliss pervaded through every difficulty and carried them smiling through every struggle. Every minute was worth it, every success brought them closer.

Happy love stories are scarce, right?

Well, you shall be disappointed this time. Coz there was no shock waiting around the corner. Life continued to be merry, and what wasn’t so chilled out was made divine by their love and concern for each other.

Sometimes you gotta be brave. Sometimes you gotta go against the flow. Sometimes you gotta hurt those that worry for you and ignore when they guide you to do something.

Coz sometimes it’s not about what’s right or wrong. It’s about your heart.

A heart that is often wrong, but sometimes right.

If you ignore your heart then, you shall regret it forever.

And it’s easier to live with challenges than with regret. Coz a happily chosen test is way better than a forced compromise.

Be a fighter, listen to your heart.

If you stumble, get up and wipe off the grime.

Don’t shed a tear, don’t look back.

Be content with the fact that you chose the path for yourself.

You learnt something new, and you came out stronger.

Better a mistake than a regret.

Coz not everyone who wanders is aimless, and not everyone who quits is a loser…

Love, Luck, Laughter…
Princess

(Last line taken from the Hollywood flick “Mona Lisa Smile”)

Strong Spirits

A sigh escaped her lips.

Followed by a mumble…

“I’ve always been responsible, independently expected to take care of others as well as my own needs. I’ve never had a freedom to give everything up and just be…”

He turned to look at her.

She spoke on… oblivious to the fact that he was hanging on to her every word…

“Nobody realises that even I can feel weak, that even I can be helpless. They think I can do it all, fix everything, do all that is necessary…”

A tear trickled down her cheek.

“You have no idea how difficult it is… How I have to swallow my desperation, and show everyone the brave face that they think I possess no matter what the time or situation…”

Another tear, and then another…

“I have my feeble moments, too. And the worst thing is I can’t even admit it…”

He held her hand. The trickle gave way to a river. A river of tears that stung his own eyes.

“I can’t admit that I am weak and powerless. That even I am helpless. That there are times when even I, who has a solution for every goddamn thing in the universe, feel lost and miserable…”

She shuddered. He could see the effort it took her, how it drained her, and yet made her feel stronger by confessing. Words that she had never uttered in her life, and probably would never again.

“That there are times when I wish I could lie back and pretend to be frail and vulnerable, and wait for someone else to show me the way. Someone else would protect me and guide me without me having to use my brain, abilities and resources. Be to me, what I am to almost everyone around me. Feel the kind of security and reassurance due to someone else that people near me feel because they have me.”

He hugged her, his eyes moist.

“I’ll be there for you, baby. I’ll take care of you…”

She wept. The dam had broken.

He loved her. And he would never let her down.

The tears flowed on… With relief this time…

- Princess