Monday, 8 July 2013

Romi and Gang by Tushar Raheja


“The quintessential Indian story of a quintessential small town Indian teen.”



In India where cricket is a many a times much more than just a sport, it becomes a religion. Though this is a cliché so seldom used the truth is not far from it. Romi is a small town Indian boy, in love with cricket and religious in worship of his god ‘Sachin Tendulkar’, living in a room filled with the legends of the game and a ball hanging from the ceiling. His obsession with cricket is among the many things that makes him not so unique in the nation. He and his gang of similar minded friends who ballet over the coveted pitches in the large maidans are what can be claimed a familiar sighting almost everywhere in India.


The many mischiefs and the petty rivalries, the apprehension with girls and the secret infatuations are something every Indian boy would know all too well.  The technicalities of this story and the various aspects of cricket, though it gives the story authenticity is not what makes it a great story but the simple things that every one of us can relate to is what makes it possible for us.




The author, Mr. Raheja has attempted to recreate the life of a quintessential kid and his life, his emotions, the complexities and challenges of life faced by them with substantial success. The narrative is fluid as it travels from one encounter to another. The way the friendships are build and fostered and the many lessons of life that we learn as we walk alongside Romi and his gang of friends as they chase down their dreams on and off the pitch is mesmerizing.


With such a seemingly simple story the author attempts to drive home many great virtues that we now find only in the sleepy town and fosters the idea that winning is not everything. He shows us through Romi and his life that there are something more important that winning and that there is always a factor of luck involved in it. He makes one realize that certain failures in life are not really failures and that they most certainly does not mean that we are not good enough but on the contrary that we are good enough


Romi is what every one of us has been, or is still is. The various images that the author draws up are things we ourselves have lived through in our childhood days. Either we are Romi or one among his gang or we know Romi or one among his gang.  Part of Tushar Raheja’s success lays in the fact that the story is so close to most us on a personal basis and that one can easily relate to the many characters in the story. He has done away with needless descriptions and literary opulence in exchange for simple to read story that one can take with him. This after all is a quintessential Indian story of a quintessential small town Indian teen.











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Friday, 5 July 2013

Oh! My Lovely Lass


Oh! My lovely lass, why don’t come sit by my side and lay your head upon my lap. Let me rock you to sleep and ever so slowly to the world of a million dreams. Why don’t you tell me your weary day and I promise thee that I shall listen with all my heart. Of all the people in this world so wide, I for one know that there are times when you look not for advice and opinion but an understanding shoulder to rest your heavy head.


It may not be always that I am the ideal husband, but for the wonderful wife that you are, I sure will work my way up there. For a lass so lovely like you deserve but the very best and the best alone shall suffice.


Oh my Lovely lass, tell me of all the vistas that you have seen, the people you met and the life you experienced. Let us be that teens again, who sat on a mossy rock by the ravishing sea and talked of all the wonders under the sun, the moon and the million stars. Let me bet that guys who used to listen to your ever heart beat and who reveled in the rhyme of your breath. I confess to the time that was once, when my very existence clang onto thine like a drowning man to straw.


Oh my love, tell me your tale and do fill those many a blank pages that I in my mindless slumber missed, I promise thee to miss not another page of our wonderful saga of love, I will with religious adherence etch every word of our life to be in the beautiful script that ought to be. Oh my love this I promise.


Oh my dear, do come and sit by my side, lay you dainty head on my lap, let me cajole you, let me relish you, Oh my love be here with me as if you knew that I belonged to thee.


Oh my love, look at me like you used to look, your eyes so moist and dreamy. Let me behold the love, the love know has not died, not yet.