Recipe – Soupy Pasta

Ingredients:

  • Spaghetti  (use wheat or semolina pasta) – 100 gms
  • Onion – 1 medium size – finely chopped
  • Corn Kernels – 1 cup
  • Peas – 1 cup
  • Tomato Puree – 1 cup or 1 medium tomato finely chopped
  • Mushrooms – 3 medium sized, thinly sliced
  • Fortune Rice Bran Oil – 6 table spoons
  • Garlic – 1 teaspoon paste or three cloves finely chopped
  • Red Chilli Flakes – 1 table spoon
  • Hing (Asafoetida) – 1 teas spoon
  • Red Chilli sauce – 2 table spoon
  • Salt – to taste
  • Water

Recipe:

Section 1 – Pasta:

Take 1 litre of water in a wide bottomed or deep vessel.

Add 1 table spoon of salt. Bring the water to boil.

Once the water is boiling add the pasta in it. (Tip: Do not add oil to the water or the vessel. It will prevent the spices and sauces from sticking to the pasta and will reduce taste.)

Let the pasta boil for 10 minutes, stirring every three minutes.

Strain the pasta in a strainer. You can choose to drain away this starchy water or save it to be used as stock in other recipes.

Now transfer the pasta in a bowl. Fill it with cold water, and drain the pasta in a strainer. Repeat till pasta is cold. This way the pasta will not stick together.

Now transfer pasta in an empty bowl. The pasta should not be more than half the bowl’s volume.

We will use this empty space later.

 Image

Section 2 – The vegetables and spices:

Heat 3 table spoons of Fortune Rice Bran oil in a pan.

Add the finely chopped onion and garlic. Sauté till onion turns golden brown.

Add the thinly sliced mushrooms. Add 2 table spoons of oil. Sauté till mushrooms change turn slightly brown.

Add the tomato puree, and stir.

 Add Chilli sauce, chilli flakes, hing and salt. Continue to stir.

Add the Corn kernels and peas.

Stir for 1 minute.

Section 3 – The Soup:Image

Add 600 ml of water.

Stir well and bring to boil.

This will form the soup. Let it boil for 5 minutes by when the corn and peas should soften.

 Image

Pour this soup over the pasta kept in the bowl.Voila, you’re done. You can choose to garnish with sprigs of basil or coriander. But I like to have it as it is.

Image

Now some of you may wonder that this looks like soupy noodles. Yes it looks like soupy noodles because I chose to use Wheat Spaghetti instead of noodles which are made from Maida (or refined white flour.) You can replace the spaghetti with penne, fusilli or any other pasta as well. You’re also using Fortune Rice Bran oil, so that adds to the healthy quotient as well.

Please do tell me how it turned out for you.

Why I don’t want to get married

For now.
I was rummaging through some of my old files and stumbled upon a questionnaire a friend had sent to me about marriage and my preferences. The idea of marriage is that when two people get along well/love each other or are deemed to be good matches for each other (by families of said people) and decide to make it public that they intend to live the rest of their lives together. (Of course is it a public notification or approval may lead to another blog sometime in the future.) All this is fine as long as you consider some of the aspects involved in it.
A couple of my friends have gotten married by now, and some people look upon realizing that I am of all 25 years of age (Silver Jubilee for the win) tell me that I should get married as well. The thing about some of these friends is that they had started dating / seeing each other sometime in college. So take 1-4 years of the college time and add four more years since to get about 5-9 years of being in a relationship during or after which they took a joint decision to get married. I can live with marriages that lead from that. I mean you have spent time close to a person to have known that person well enough to make and estimate of how they will turn out to be and take a call on that. When they felt the time was right they decided to marry each other.
When they felt the time was right and not age. Who came up with the idea anyway? You’re of the right age, you should get married now. Seriously, dude? Yes I am at an age where I have a job  and have my wisdom (limited as it may be) can be counted on to make some life decisions, does not mean that I get married now. It is the time that is important and not age (Of course you’re old enough to be an adult that is). It is different time durations for everyone. Some think a few months of being in a relation is fine, while others think years. It’s totally based on the said two people involved.
Doing household chores makes me think about it. A few days ago I had posted this as a status update on facebook: 
Tonight I thought if it would be different to have been married. I came back just before 1(noon shift) and too tired to cook but hungry. It would seem so easy to wake her up and ask her to make something (even if it is instant noodles for me)
Comment by me: Of course like Dumbledore said, we must choose between what is easy and what is right
Now I had come back from a shift work at 1 in the night (or morning) and was hungry. Unfortunately there were no cookies or fruits in the house that day (as I had eaten them all up and not restocked). Since I was tired I wondered if I had been married, wouldn’t it seem easy to wake her up and have her cook something for me. Easy doesn’t always mean right. Imagine being waken up in the middle of a sound sleep to cook something for someone (Of course she could be doing other things as well like a friend pointed out. She could be at a friend’s, or reading, or watching a movie, etc… But let us for now get with the idea of her being asleep when I come home). Imagine being woken up from a sound sleep just to cook something for someone.  Some people would like to tell me that this is not any someone, and since she is my wife she is supposed to do it for me. I don’t want her to do things for me just because she is my wife, I want her to be my wife because of the things she does for me.  Similarly I don’t want to do things for someone just because I am married to her, I want to be married because of the things I do for her or am willing to do for her.
Similarly, this has to do with things like my bed as well. I am in general not much bothered about my bed. I can sleep on beds and floors with equal comfort. As long I change my sheets regularly, I don’t bother much. Which is why before they get ironed, my washed clothes get dumped on my bed along with a book that is half way of being read,  along with what is today an empty bottle of water(I should pick that up once this is posted). The idea is that I don’t want my preferences to add work for her or make her cringe. It would make sense to have such clothes in a neat pile in the bag in the corner of the room or that empty section in the cupboard. Since it doesn’t matter to me that much I dump them on the bed, however it would matter to her (it being her bed as well).

When I think of kids, I end up at times freaking out about whether they will eat non-veg or pray or not. I like to eat, veg and non-veg inclusive. If my wife eats non-veg as well then things are all great. And I have no problem being with someone who is a vegetarian. I mean it’s a matter of not putting non-veg in her plate or gargling real good with mouth wash after dinner or just plain old eating away from her eyes when I do.  Things will be fine based on the understanding me and my wife of not forcing things on each other. Bring kids into the equation and you have an unstable reaction. What if she brings up kids with the idea that eating meat is not good because we are killing innocent animals for it, which is a bad thing to do. And then they see daddy dearest eating a chicken burger and enjoying it closed eyes and lost thoughts. I don’t know how the conversation will go from there.

I am also not a religious person (anymore) and don’t pray or observe fasts or days. The two of these things have absolutely nothing to do with each other. However which religion (and how much of it) you follow can be an important part of your identity. When kids see their mom praying and visiting temples (or any other religious place) and dad not giving a hoot about it and question me why I don’t pray, what do I tell them? That I don’t pray because don’t believe, or bother more about humans than gods. Will they imagine me a ring of fire behind me every time they see me eat meat? Of course none of this may come in to picture, or before it does me and my wife would have some sort of understanding on how to get the kids through this and leave it totally up to their choice. But I tend to freak out about it at times.
That being said, I don’t want to get married for now because I don’t have anyone to whom I can relate enough to get married to. When the time is right and we both think, it will be marriage time.  

Love is

Not diarrhea  That is right, Love is not diarrhea  Ok, why do you ask that I say this? Because I cannot take it when people left and right are telling me that love just happens. There is no reason behind, love never happens for a reason. You know how the saying goes that shit happens. Love doesn’t happen like that. Love is not diarrhea.OK, you can skip this paragraph for the imagery it may provide. I am sorry for that. I vividly remember what my first conscious memory of diarrhea is. I remember wearing grey shorts and sitting in the front courtyard of my house and reading. I felt a little tingly sensation in my stomach. I felt like I had gas and wanted to fart. I tried, except instead of gas a thick fluid came through. I felt disgusted and ran to the toilet as I felt myself getting moister with every step I took.

Love is nothing like that. Love happens for a reason. When some people told me that love doesn’t happen for a reason I honestly felt like saying “Kids these days, don’t know what love is”! Of course saner sense prevailed when I also thought that since these were my friends, they were not that young or me that old to think or say this. Yes, I understand that the realization that you are in love with someone can be sudden or gradual. It can come out of the blue to you, but the feeling is not baseless.
Yes, you may think that the reason for your love can fail. You love someone for what they promised, and what they could have been but chose not to. Such is not a failure of our reason, but the failure of your loved to reflect the values you seek. Ayn Rand got this right: One falls in love with the embodiment of the values that formed a person’s character. And if the person, in whom you wished to see those values come alive, didn’t breathe of them then it is not the failure of your love but of them.
Love is not a sacrifice. You can give up many things in the name of love. If doing something or not having something brings a smile or comfort to the person you love, then it is not a sacrifice. You did it for bringing happiness to your loved, and that mattered to you more than what you did or gave up. You got something in return for what you did.
You can love someone and realize the reason only when you think upon it. But you cannot love someone without a reason. You may have a set notion for the type of person you will love, and when you meet that type of person you will know that this is the person you were searching for. A physical form containing the values you seek. But you cannot have a person you love just like that. Love just doesn’t happen, it happens for a reason.  There are people who end up saying that I don’t know why I loved him/her because they did not base their love on something. You can know of course why you don’t love a person anymore. You thought different of that person before, and now you have reasons to believe that he doesn’t meet them. It is OK  please move on.
You see even diarrhea doesn’t happen without reason. There could be toxins, food poisoning, infections or any different reason for it to happen.
Everyone has a different reason for love.  For some it is the sense of comfort the other person brings to you. It can also be a feeling of security that you can be yourself in the presence of that person that you can be without inhibitions. It can be because of the felling you got once you kissed you would never want to kiss anyone else again. I realized that for me it was a sense of admiration. An admiration for the questions that I had to ask myself, for the reasons she did the things she did, for her courage to live her life as she wanted, for making me realize the difference between who I am and who I wanted to be.
And if nothing else, ask yourself one thing when you think you love a person. What is it that makes you love this person and not someone else? What is it that sets this person apart from the countless others you have met? For if you love this person without a reason, you might as well be loving another stranger in the crowd.

(High on) Happiness

Have you ever had one of those days when you are happy? Not just happy, but high with happiness? When things just fall in place, when you meet nice people, eat good stuff, today was one such day.
To recount what lead to this day:
  •  I spent one entire weekend with mom without either of us saying anything stingy at the other.
  • We checked out some houses (we’re house hunting for a new place)
  • Mom made dahi puri for me in the evening. Now dahi puri is unhealthy because I have a sore throat, and the chutney and cold curd would not do me good. But eating unhealthy food is fun and she made it because I asked her to.
  • I spent some wonderful time at ‘The chocolate room’ in Ahmadabad. I had a large black coffee, an almond cold coffee, and a Chocó-chilli sandwich. It was a wonderful sandwich it had chillies and chocolate scrapings in it. The chocolate would clash with the chilly and it was oh-so-good. I got a nice table all for myself and wonderful internet speed to watch some of my favourite anime.
  • I saw this poster while searching for a new poster to buy. It gave me a sense of reassurance, that there is more to me than some of the problems I had recently started thinking on. 
  • On the way to Baroda from Ahmadabad I got a bus that had half the seats empty. I could sit on an entire three seat row all by myself and read. When the bus conductor turned off some of the lights he let two lights on so that I could read. He then got up from his single seat and sat on another empty row seat. Those of you who have travelled by GSRTC busses know of this seat. It is the single seat at the entrance which has handle bars in front of it for people to hold on to while climbing on/off. So when you sit on this seat, you can sink in a little and rest your feet on this handle bar. Such a comfortable position to read in. 
  • The window in front of me was open with a just little tiny gap that let a cool breeze in. The breeze would hit my naked feet and make me feel as if my feet were in a river of flowing cool water. And the best part was that no one complained about it or asked me to shut the window.
  • I thought of two women whom I admire. One is ofcourse this wonderful doting big sister whom I love as much as I can. The other is of course the is B to my A, the Alpha to my Omega, the Sheila to my jawani, the fevicol to my photo. They just cheer me up.
Now my views on god are not that religious. But if there is a god, I would give a nice tight hug. I would tell him to take some time off and come with me for drinks, my treat. I would ask him to listen to this song (Emotional Attyachar (attyachar is Hindi for torture) from Dev D). The song in itself is a sad song; however it has a special place for me. I had gone to watch this movie in a single screen local cinema house because we couldn’t get tickets anywhere else. Now this song has a nice beat to it. When this song came on screen I was just tapping my feet being as reserved that I am. But some guys in the audience just thought “Chuck it” and got up started dancing to have a wonderful time.
So the idea is to ask God to chuck it and not think of the people who are doing all forms of torture in his name. You know take a vacation with your goddess, and go relax and recharge. If you made this world, we gave it shape as it is now. You don’t have to take it on your shoulders.
Today is also an eventful day for another reason. The father of the Delhi-Gang Rape case victim shared his daughter’s name (Jyoti Singh Pandey). He said:

“We want the world to know her real name.

“My daughter didn’t do anything wrong, she died while protecting herself.

“I am proud of her.Revealing her name will give courage to other women who have survived theseattacks. They will find strength from my daughter.”

The word Jyoti is a Hindi word which means light. For some people, this case gives light and heat and casts out darkness and fear. Now I don’t her personally, but I cannot help but feel sorry. That in a free nation, this is the price she had to pay for being free, for just wanting to live her own life. You had every right to live on as you wanted, but a bunch of men thought you wanting to be free was an act of defiance against them, and raped and beat you to a painful death. They and other such people wrongfully believe that just because of being a woman, women have to yield to them as they wish.
I do hope that whether you’re reading this or not, whether we know of each other or not, that you have an equally wonderful day in your life.

Punishment and Justice

Ever since the Delhi gang rape I have been thinking of something. Not because this is the first rape case, or the first gang rape case, but because of the level of depravity the rapists sunk to after raping the girl.

For those of you who are not aware of this case, a girl and her friend took a bus. The driver and his friends beat the girl and her friend with a rod and then went on to rape the girl turn by turn. Then they beat her more and inserted the metal rod in her vagina. They stripped the girl and her friend and tossed them out on the streets. The girl’s injuries were so harsh that her intestines had to be removed. There was hope that she could have a transplant but she died of her injuries.

This case has brought the people of the nation together. People began to voice their concerns loud in forms of protests. Why don’t we have strict anti-rape laws? Why isn’t it safe for women to go out in the open? Why must they be blamed for the rape and not the rapist? What punishment should be given to these men? Some people demanded capital punishment, while some demanded castration. People took to the streets in protests asking for all this. Some people blamed the rapists, the police, the government, there were few who looked inside.

Why look inside do you ask me? I will tell you why. When this barbaric case came to light, many people wept for the all the girl had to face, and cursed the rapists but many also asked “What was the girl doing at that time of the night with a male friend? Why did she take that bus? When we all know that it is an unsafe place for women why did she watch the late show? Did she do something to instigate the rapists in to beating her so badly?” 

I fail to see how it all matters. If she dressed a particular way and the men got so aroused, they should have kept their arousal to themselves. Instead of teaching women how to dress teach the men to control themselves. Women get raped irrespective of the clothes they wear (sari, salwar kameez, jeans, skirts, etc.), of how old or young they are (teens, toddlers, old), or where they are (home, office, public transport, streets). The key aspect here being that there are men who rape, and it is this fact that must be addressed if you wish to get to the root of it all to eradicate.

A fact I believe that contributes to this all is how girls and boys are brought up. Traditionally we are a society which is biased towards the men. This is why we tell girls not to get raped instead of telling the guys not to rape. Idiots. I think it is very easy to blame the victims, and get away with that instead of correcting centuries old incorrect thinkings.  It is easy, but not right. To quote Albus Dumbledore, “We must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy.” We need to teach the generations that are to come and that have already come that girls are in no way lower than guys. This means that you cannot just go and have her if you find her attractive; you cannot rape her if she says no. No means No. It’s not just a matter of finding someone physically attractive or pleasing to the eyes. It’s the idea that you want her and you must have her, her consent not being of any matter to him.

 Then you have people who agree that such people are who cannot control themselves, that they are mad dogs or bulls of sort. So they tell me that if one sees a mad dog running or a mad bull you don’t go there and run like mad when it charges towards you. First of all, these are men we are talking of not animals. But I understand where this logic comes from, if we equate them with animals since they can’t control themselves; then they must be treated like animals of such sort. Tie them and lock them up before they bite, put them down.

Now regarding what must be done to these rapists, I was personally of the opinion to not give them capital punishment. Well because if you kill them, it’s the end for them while the girl continues fighting for her life. Instead send them to prison, and make them pay for all her expenses (medical and otherwise till she lives). There is difference between punishment and justice. In discussion with a friend Desi Girl on this that “Justice is the closure for the victim and punishment is about extracting penalty cash or kind from the wrong doer.” However now with the girl being dead I wonder if we should make an example of these rapists. For now it’s a case of not just rape, but torture and murder. So yes, the rapists must be punished, but what about justice? Justice needs to be served to not just her but to all other people who have been raped.

If you want to do your bit about justice and preventing such cases please ‘look inside’ as well.

In one of my google searches in, I found this video.
(Contains violence and dramatized gore)

Made it

He was leaning against the gate and waiting for him to come out of the house. He took out his mobile to check on the time and saw that it was not even eight in the night yet. There would be enough time to get things done before sleeping. He heard the noise of someone rushing down steps and turned to see him come out of his house.
“What were you searching for so long?”
“I was searching for my watch.”
“What the hell do you need a watch for?”
“Anyway, while taking my watch out my eyes fell on this, so I thought that maybe we could have it today”
He pulled out a slender metal cylinder from his pocket and handed it to him. He pulled open the cap and inhaled a deep long breath, taking in the aroma of the cigar in.
“Romeo Juliet, good stuff. I thought you were saving this to enjoy on some occasion.”
“I was, and I will be leaving today. What better a time to enjoy it? Besides if I leave it behind, how is going to anything to it?”
Having secured a seat for studying statistics, Rajesh was to leave for Washington the next day and wanted to spend some time of his last day with his good friend and class mate Sameer. Rajesh wanted to go to the States for quite some time now, for he believed that not only a better education but also a better life style and standard of living awaited him there. Sameer had not shown such desires yet. Rajesh pocketed the cigar case and sat behind Sameer on his bike. Sameer pushed the start button on the handle, changed gears and rode off towards the road, careful to avoid the potholes on the connecting lanes from the society to the road.
It was a short drive to his place which was just about 2 kilo meters away. Rajesh got down so that Sameer may park his bike in the ground floor parking. He nodded to the watchman sitting on his steel chair next to the elevator and pressed the button to call the elevator down. Sameer was there with him by the time the elevator doors opened. They got in together and he pressed 6 for the floor on which his house was while Rajesh closed the grille which served as the inner door. 
“Have you got booze in the house or will we have to go and get it?”
“I think three or four bottles of beer and some of the vodka we had got the other day.”
“Should do enough. If there is any less you’re going to drag your fat ass all by yourself to buy some.”
“ Balls. I am just going relax on the bean bag while you bring it yourself. Who asked you to drink so much last time?”
“Oi, it’s not like I made a mess!”
“Yeah, that is all I need. Feed you free food and beer and then clean up after you throw up. Very relaxing.”
“Exactly, I don’t see why you’re cribbing about it.”
Both of them entered the house grinning. Sameer went on to the kitchen to bring glasses and bottles while Rajesh sat on the couch and turned the TV on. Sameer brought it all out on the table and while he was pouring the drinks out, Rajesh was emptying packets of salted cashews and dried figs. They took their first glasses of beer, clinked them, said cheers and drank it up. Soon the cigar came out and Rajesh and took two puffs before passing it to Sameer. He put it in his mouth and waited for the flavour to seep in before taking a puff and heaving a deep sigh.
“This is some real good stuff. Top Notch”
“Totally. Do you remember our first cigar?”
“Hahaha, yeah. We went to the other side of the city to have it so that no one would catch us.”
“It was one of those cheap flavoured cigars, but back then we felt so rich doing it.”
“Yeah, stupid kids.”
“Oye. Speak for yourself, mister.”
And then they went on to talk about some of other good times they had shared together in college and after it.
“So when do you leave for the airport tomorrow?”
“Around 12, want to check in a little early and go inside. You know how mum and papa are, they will get teary.”
“And will they be ok going back on their own?”
“ Yeah, my cousin will also come to drop me off. You should come too, you know. ”
“I wish, but I have a presentation tomorrow and boss won’t give me a day off.”
“Not to the airport, I am talking about US.”
“Now where did this come from?”
“I know I am going to do masters before getting a full time job, but it’s different there. You can save up from your part time while studying so you don’t have to ask your parents.”
“I know.”
“And other than that it is not like here. Over there people aren’t bothered about others. You’re only treated as good as your work. People let you be who you are.”
“Yeah, that is what Sonal told me too. It’s a great country that you’re going to, and I would totally love it over there. But you know how I feel about it. We all want to leave here because we say that this place sucks, but nobody wants to stay back and do something about it.”
“Dude, that is all nice to read about in the books you have. You’ve been reading too much of this philosophy crap. Someone as good as you would do great there.”
“Hmn.., which is I want to stay back here.”
“Whatever, if you change your mind let me know. Now come drop me off to my house.”
“Can’t man, can’t drive like this. I am a little drowsy. I’ll walk you down to the road and get you an auto.”
They walked down to the road and waited for a couple of minutes till an auto rickshaw came. They hugged each other and Rajesh left in the auto.
Sameer was sipping coffee with his back rested against the wall. He straightened when he saw the boss coming his way. He greeted him and told him that the presentation went well and the director was pleased with the results. The boss shook his hands on a job done well, gave him some updates on what was supposed to be done the next day and walked ahead. Sameer got back to his coffee with his back against the wall. He looked at the large wall clock in front of him. It was almost five in the evening. Rajesh must be in his flight by now. He couldn’t help but feel envious of him. He smiled and wondered if it was because he had made it.

Review: Hexagon by Ishaan Lalit

Hexagon is the second book by Ishaan Lalit, after TheBracelet. I will give you a gist of the story with minimal spoilers before the review.
Hexagon is primarily led by Rahul Oberoi who is an art thief along with this his girl friend Ria. Things go for a toss when they are caught in one of their chases and are lead to a secret underground facility (and yes it is an Indian government facility; Thank you, Ishaan), where to their wonder his grandfather worked before his death. The reason for this facility being so secret is the existence of an ancient hexagonal device which acts as nexus or gateway of sorts to access the six different parallel earths. From one of these earths comes the race known as Moths. They are on a path of world domination and know how to use the Hexagon to access other earths to conquer them.  Now it depends on how they brace themselves with such information and what they do about it. Do they use the Hexagon to access the other earths as well, and if they do will they find friendly races or more enemies?
The book is fast paced and surprisingly you do not get the feeling of jumping from one act to another but instead it seems like a natural progression only at a fast pace. It is like running up a flight of stairs and noticing the different doors and apartments on each floor. I like to see the book in two different aspects. The first being the story of the characters and how they act and change as you read on. The second is the sci-fi setting of the novel with the Hexagonal device, parallel earths, and the different races on said earths. Ishaan deserves credit for a job well done here. He doesn’t get carried away in either of the aspects. You won’t find him describing the universe his work is set in and not delve on the characters. He manages to strike a balance with his visual descriptions.
As mentioned, this is his second book and it is an added pleasure to read it after the first. I personally believe that the core structure of the two books is similar. A character gets involved in a situation; the existence of which is a secret, and how he in spite of being the newbie to it has to take initiative to see it through. This book has the weaves of story lines more intricate and how the writer is maturing his skills with more writing. The book however has its shortfalls. I found that the editing needs more work as there is one chapter that is repeated after its original apart from a few very minor slips.
The second issue I have is more of a personal opinion and should not be considered demerit at all. The book is too short for my liking. It is not short in general, as it has about more than 50K words, and has 232 pages. I personally enjoyed the style of writing in this book with its descriptions, characterizations and sci-fi elements. At the end of the book I was left with a feeling of wanting more. Make no mistake that writing such a piece of work must have been a very consuming task for him, and the book does end with a possibility of a sequel. I do hope that we get to read it. 

Review: The Krishna Key

The Krishna Key’ is the third book written by Ashwin Sanghi, after having written The Rozabal Line and Chanakya’s Chant. Without giving out any detailed spoilers, I will give you a gist of the story as part of the review.
The driving character of the books is Ravi Saini. He is a mythology & history teacher who is on the run to clear his name in the murder of his childhood friend Anil Varshney. Before his death, Varshney found an object that with his theory can change how we know history. However before he can do much about he murdered by a man who calls himself Taarak Vakil, whose name when you play with spells out ‘Kalki Avatar’. However he is not the bad guy like You-Know-Who but a man who believes himself to be tenth avatar of Vishnu (Kalki Avatar) and must vanquish the wrong and bring forth the light.  Now Saini must prove himself innocent while not getting in the hands of Taarak who is trying to kill him as well and save himself from the cunning and competent inspector in charge of hunting him.
The book is in three layers. Layer one is the main story of Saini and Vakil and how their individual quests progress and sometimes merge like the branches of a river. Layer two is the back stories/ flashbacks of the characters which serve to add flavour and show their individual motivation. Layer three is Krishna telling his own story to the reader. Of the three layers I personally liked the second layer the most as it provides the background of the canvas against which the main story is being drawn on while Krishna’s words serve as the frame for the painting.
The book has been told by some be India’s answer to Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code. Now I don’t know how to react to this statement, but yes the book is indeed of the same genre. A mixing of the past and the present, murder and mystery, facts and wishful thinking and some conspiracy theories. The plot has its fair share of surprises and predictable moments. I believe each reader will react differently to the book depending on the number of plot twists they are able to predict or be fascinated by.
I have not read his first book, but have read Chanakya’s Chant with much delight multiple times. Chanakya’s Chant also had two layers, one of the fictional retelling of Chanakya and Chandragupta Maurya’s lives and the second of the lives Chandini and Gangasagar in the present. The two layers were in perfect balance with one leading into the other stream lessly. Just like a well made lasagna or Danish pastry. The Krishna Key however lacks such finesse and at times the plot seems to be pushed ahead instead of progressing. I once wondered that this book had been written before and Chanakya’s Chant after assuming that as the author matured his way of balancing the layers did as well. It seems however Sanghi is a victim of the success of his previous work that I and others have compared this book to those before.
The book is however still a good read and I must appreciate the amount of effort and time put in by the author in the research required to write such a book.
This review is part of the Book Review Program by BlogAdda. Wherein members of the program can receive free books as long as they commit to post a review of it. Due to my own lack of energy owing to some projects I hadn’t blogged for quite some time. I knew that a review would be required when I got in to the program and my lack of energy is no excuse for the review to come so late that BlogAdda had to follow up on me. My sincerest apologies for that. 

Reading

There are advantages of having friends who share your passion for reading and among other things you never run out of goodgreat things to read. Today one such friend Ritu shared an article on facebook (which she was kind enough to tag me in).  It is “Which kind of book reader are you?” by the Atlantic Wire. The article goes on to describe different types of readers and their reading habits. Are you the one who will purchase books and then end up with a backlog or are the one who has them only to display them? And so on…  What about me, do you ask? (Well you are reading this, and should you continue to read this entry I gather you are interested in it.)
I have picked up books for various reasons. Quite a few of these books are in my cupboard because Landmark (the book store) is exceedingly close to my apartment. So every few days I find myself strolling in to the store because I ran out of stationery supplies, or need something for work, or am drawn to the large number of books there.  If there is a sale I pick up some of the books I have been wanting to read and since there’s a neat deal I stock them in my cupboard. Sometimes it is because I visit the store out of boredom or habit, and flipping through the books I find something that amuses or touches me. Then of course there are the recommendations from friends.
This has lead to a huge backlog of reading for me. Books that have been read for only a few pages before they were put on the table and then inside the dark forbidding chambers of my cupboard because I got busy with something, or found something else to read. Evil, I know. This is not just fiction but books on engineering and science that I picked up because I enjoyed reading about the subject, some management books that I refer when work gets boring and philosophy for my desire to study more upon it.
Right now I am reading ‘Krishna Key’ because I got it for review (yeay) from Blogadda.com. Since I am to post a review on it for receiving said book, ‘Fifty shades darker’ has been put on hold along (because I enjoyed reading ‘Fifty shades of Grey’, and wanted to continue the story). There is also ‘The Toyota Way’ which I am reading to learn different approaches that I can use at work. There is ‘God is not Great’ lying on the table as well which I had picked for light reading (and mom got scandalized).
Then there are a select few unique books that have not been completed for particular reasons. I received ‘The girl who kicked the hornet’s nest’ as a gift from Ishaan Lalit, and I read the first three chapters before I felt that there was too much a back story being referred to. Wikipedia enlightened me with the fact that since it is book 3 of a trilogy I got the feeling of missing the story. Although I thought the story would be revealed in detailed flashbacks, I have kept it aside for after I finish its chronological predecessors. There is ‘Love, Loss and Acceptance’ by Shail Di which I am keeping aside for reading when I can do its verses justice.  And finally there is Thermodynamics because I can’t wrap my head around the change in heat of the room when an air conditioner is turned on while a draft exists on the other side of the room. The AC is on, it is cooler, I am thankful, please get lost. Maybe It has also to do with the idea that I flunked the subject the first time I took it in college.
And before signing off for this, I would like to tell you about this little thing I have. I just love caressing and smelling books. Sometimes I pick up books and ruffle through the pages and smell the air as the pages flip by. The rustling noise and the sight of the pages go by is just so wonderful. I don’t do it all my books, but one day the mood strikes to do so and it always manages to make me sigh.

I dream of death

Everyone dreams, and some dreams are more memorable than other. I dream loads and some of the most wonderful stuff (though not of genies, not yet that is).  While there are dreams that are older and more memorable, I will however share with you one that I had today in the morning as it one of the few dreams that I was able to do things in; a lucid dream of sorts as I could talk and move as I pleased in some cases.
I was sitting in Landmark that is close to my place in Baroda. I was comfortably seated on a couch and reading a book I had just purchased while a cup of coffee lay on the table. Now I know that this landmark doesn’t have a coffee joint in it anymore, but hey it’s a dream and I didn’t want to nitpick on free coffee. I notice this man walk past by me towards the washroom. I couldn’t help but think that I had seen him a couple of times before. He was wearing a fedora hat and that is a rare thing, in India for the least. So the dream me tries to remember, and has an image of him walking by my mom’s house while I stood outside in the veranda talking to a neighbour. After he comes out of the washroom I go and ask him if we have met before since he seems familiar to me. The man nods and says that he is the angel of death and that we have met a couple of times before.
“Huh, angel of death? What are you doing in a book store then?”
“Doing my job, taking people off my list to see that they die.”
“Is it now, you must show me how it works then.” And he stared at me for a moment as if I had told something that he couldn’t understand.

For future reference if you’re in my dream, and if I tell you to show me how something works, you will show me how it works. You’re in my dream, and well that is how I dream. I will extend the same courtesy to you should I ever come in to your dreams. Although I don’t know how it works if you dream of me. Would I be lucid too? But you know I lose all memory of it once you wake. Anyway, moving on
“Ok, I have names in my book as part of a list that I must ensure die.”
“So how do you do that?”
“I strike their name of, and think of a way they must die and they die.”
“Oh, like that anime Death note I saw on Animax?”
“Manga too, they pretty much got the concept right.”
“Teach me, how it is done.”
“See that woman over there? Her name is Radha Varma. Now this is her name on my list, and I strike it off. Now I want her to buy a DVD for her grand kids and watch it with them over a good meal. When she sleeps she must think that it is just some indigestion, but it will be a heart attack instead.”
And then there was a montage of us going around take people off his list. So while we were sitting in a place and I was going through his book, I saw my name on a page with an ellipse around it.
“Tell me, why my name is written here like that. What does it mean?”
“A circled name means that I was supposed to knock off the person, but didn’t”
 “So why did you let me go that time.”
“Six times in all, I had orders from up top that told me not to do so.”
“Like a close shave you mean? But I don’t remember six instances like that.”
“Only two, others were orders. A word of advice, you really need to start working out.”
“Dude, what the hell?”
And then he smiled and I woke up from my dream. It was around 0830 in the morning because I check for my mobile and spectacles when I get up. I called for mom and she was in the other room sweeping. So I told her that I dreamt of a ‘Yamdoot’ (the closest Hindi translation of an angel of death I could think of) and that he was told to let me off six times so far, and that he asked me to work out. She looks at me (probably thinking why of all possible kids, she had to get me) and tells me that I will listen to a Yamdoot, but not her. I had a sassy reply ready but seeing the broom in her hand, I did not push my luck for a seventh time.
Now I wonder if I can write my training as angel of death on my CV.