Saturday 6 October 2012

The Krishna Key by Ashwin Sanghi : A Review




The Krishna Key by Ashwin Sanghi is a rather refreshing break away from Indian contempory writing, a fast paced adventure with twists turns and amazing u-turns is what the indian litreature needs. We could do well with a couple of magnanimous hot cakes of our own other than the usual mystic stalwarts. Sanghi's The Krishna Keyis a slow adventure that unfolds in the mystic realms of India and its fully loaded.


The story evolves from the discovery of four Indus valley seals and the world of unprecidented knowledge that they are meant to unlock. Pepped with some gruesome murders, malevolent conspiracy theories and an uncanny resemblance to several dan brown novels, The Krishna Key by  Ashwin Sanghi is a true thriller. The story moves through simultaneously through both ancient and modern India along with its protagonist Mr Saini, who as in all archaeological thrillers is a history professors. He is a true 'European hero' in a very Indian novel who makes sure that he gets a taste of everything that's there to taste in this story, literally everything. 


The story is creative and refreshing yet the narration is far from being perfect. The greatest short coming of the story would be its beginning which is dangerously slow that it takes perseverance to reach the good part. Although it  gives the reader the feeling of a chewed Dan Brown novel at the initial phase, the story quickly picks up and metamorphosizes into a true thriller and by mid way it is gripping. The story takes you through the breadth and width of India following various clues and leaving behind a rather bloody tail and a lot of confusion. 


The next big disappointment occurs at the end where the author leaves the readers feeling 'ditched'. The ending is lackluster and does not do any justice what so ever to hype and expectation that the author has created through out the story. The problem is that its too surreal when the reader craves for something solid and substantial.


Then there are a couple of glitches in the story which involves a drastic change in the character of the characters and a rather poorly executed love story entwined into the main plot. One minute they are just acquaintances and the next they are in the bed making love. Nobody saw the love happening, what must otherwise have added some sugar to the feisty tale leaves behind a rather sour taste in the readers mind, after all no one expects a 50 something Indian college history professor to turn into a stud over the span of 4 pages. The love story was unwanted and unnecessary. 


Setting aside these two disappointments the novel is really good and can be easily ranked as one of the few very good Indian authored book that I have read in the last couple of years. I would suggest that the any one who can get your hands one just grab it. Aside from a few glitches I pointed out, the story is fabulous, gripping and very well researched. 
This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com.

Saturday 29 September 2012

The Silhouette of Silence



It was in one such night that I saw her, her real self her heart and her being. We knew each other much before and may be we were even what could be called as acquaintances but never friends. But that night changed it all, that one night. The night when I sat across from her, the night when our yes met not for the first time but for still the first time. I had known her before but that night when our eyes net under slow burning street lambs we came to know each other. That night under the simmering glow of the electric street lamb, in the bitter coldness of the European winter we met for the first time.




I must have known that the silence we shared was but only the beginning of a life long journey. A journey that would transform our selves and transcend our being. In that silence when our eyes met I saw something in her eyes that was burning, it was not revenge, it was not anger, it was not love and it certainly was not the glow of the hope but it was the reminiscent glow of the despair coming from the ashes of burned up dreams.
It took me aback to a darker time when the whole world was but the four walls of a prison cell for me, the days when my innocent dreams where held captive in the heavy chains, when the wings of my colorful dreams were clipped and all around was just darkness, blood and despair. 



That night under the simmering glow of the electric street lamb, in the bitter coldness of the European winter in her eyes I saw my eyes, I saw the same feelings, the same heart break. I was reminded of my death and my consecutive birth. I was reminded of the struggle and the daunting face of death and its giant red eyes staring down through you. Even when I write this my hand tremble with unimaginable fear and my heart beats  as if time is scanty and life is terribly short. 


That was the night I met myself, my silhouette in that silence I was acquainted with. Hers where the eyes of my past, her gently bosom bore the scars of the same torture that I endured. Her emancipated skin wore like a cheap gown the texture of undignified death. She reminded me of the times I had almost died and the times I almost gave up. The taste of her coarse lips reminded me of the stale and the dirt, the miserable life that I had escaped. And all around me was darkness I could see it crawling under my skin. Like a vicious creature it was coming towards me to consume what was left of me. There I lay in her hands, pressed against her cold body, with my lips just dangling above her sinister lips. In that truth of moment I realized that this is what I am and what have been and she is silhouette. The darkness of the past was but my past and I was as inseparable from it as darkness was from light itself.


That night under the simmering glow of the electric street lamb, in the bitter coldness of the European winter I met me for the first time and there we embarked on a lifelong journey of redemption.

Friday 28 September 2012

BlogFest 2012 Finalized Participants

BlogFest 2012


The finalized list of BlogFest 2012 participants.

Wendi Zwaduk - Romance to Make Your Heart Race
Colloquium
Megan Slayer - Too Hot To Handle
Supernatural Snark
Confessions of a Bookaholic
Still Blonde after all these YEARS! 
Delaney Diamond (sweet & sensual romance)
Good Choice Reading

Roof Beam Reader
Believing is Seeing
Desperado Penguin
A Dragon's Love
Patricia Leever
Tanya & Diana
Author Killian McRae
Ruby @ Ruby's Reads :)
Lee's Musings
Love is a Many Flavored Thing
Elisa Dane
Kacey's Kreations
V.S. Morgan - All Shades of Love
Hannah Downing Author
CMash Reads
Therese Gilardi: Beneath The Sunglasses
Seductive Musings
Snarkymamma
Kiru Taye Writes
From the TBR Pile
Hesperia Loves Books
Feather Stone, Author
Nicki Elson's Not-So-Deep Thoughts
Malevolent Musings
Kelly's Lucky You
Felicia Rogers Authors
Obsession with Books
Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
Jessica E. Subject
Dianne Hartsock
Diva's Bookcase
Hope. Dreams. Life... Love
Jennifer Lane Books
Fierce Dolan's Writing Utopia, One Word at a Time
Oh! For the Love of Books
Coffee, books and me
Kay Dee Royal Paranormal & Erotica Romance Musings
Wicked Readings By Tawania
For Those About To Read
Booksnob
Amaterasu Reads
Keenly Kristin
Ashlynn Monroe's Blog
Bewitched Bookworms 
Another Author
Michelle Santiago
Sharon Hamilton Author
Jennifer DeLucy's Blog
Can We Talk About...
J.C. Martin, Fighter Writer
Leontine's Book Realm
The Enigmatic
The Solitary Bookworm
EGC
Hott Books
I Just Wanna Sit Here and Read!
Starla Kaye
Stacie Vaughan
Book Obsessed
Margay Leah Justice
Two Little Cavaliers
Cherie Colyer
Curling Up By The Fire
Jill of The O.W.L.
Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book
Lucidity
Letters Inside Out
noodleBubble nice Blog
Carol Oates
AsianCocoa's Secret Garden
Christmas TV History
D.J. Kirkby
Fangs, Wands & Fairy Dust
The Book Pushers
Into the Mystic
Ravishing Romances
Alexia Banks
I'd So Rather Be Reading
Havan's Heavenly Haven
MamaNYC
The Cozy Reader
Reviews By Molly
Nuts and Crisps
The Wormhole
The Enchanted Book
NOVELS ON THE RUN
Socrates Book Review Blog
Si, se puede
Cuzinlogic
Love To Read For Fun
Simply Ali
Crimson Romance
Alaiel Kreuz
Ex Libris
Joyousreads
Tiffany's Bookshelf
The Tales of Dexter, Nora, and Chloe
Tall Tales from a Small Town
Midnight Thrillers
Notorious Spinks Talks Books
Mochas, Mysteries and More
My Little Pocketbooks
Mocha Girls Read 
The Smiling Pains of Novelist Destiny Booze
KMN Books
Knitting and Sundries
Think Sincere
The Maiden's Court
Vanessa Morgan
With Our Best
Reading Romances
Wordshaping
Ashley's Christian Book Reviews
Ashley's Bookshelf
JennReneeRead
Jaclyn's Musings
Parent Palace
Double Crossing
Jamie Haden
Writing Is A Blessing
The Relentless Reader
Bookvisions
Jennifer Wells, Paranormal Romance Author
Hlidie McQueen - Writing by Moonlight
A Passion for Romance
Leeswammes' Blog
At Home With Books
Becky WIcks
Susan Frances
Gemma Parkes Living and Loving
Jade Kerrion: Where Science Transforms Art
Mom vs. the Boys
Tami Brothers ~ Live, Love, Write!
Randomness from Mommyville
Feather's World
Reading Angel
JennRenee
Girls Just Reading
Blessed In Homemaking
Doing Dewey
Pages Off Life
Full Moon Bites
Lena Sledge's Blog
Lille Punkin
1099 Mom
Lyn Styles
star shadow blog
Life on the edge...of Appalachia
Chopski's blog
Cherie Reads



Content and Image courtesy : A Journey of Books

Tuesday 18 September 2012

The Bird with the Broken Wing


birds perched on a tree


This happened some time back almost during the time of the last angst autumn. In my evening fiestas I used to gaze at the horizon, I used to strain my eyes as it trailed the changing shades of the sky and merged into the darkness of the night. A particular sight awaited me every day without fail and if it didn’t I seemed deem myself a failure for the afternoon. This mellifluous sight was that of a bird, petite and cute beyond compare. With much energy it filled my evening sky with its wondrous twitter. I am from now on going to refer her as a she for I know not how to find the gender of a bird and it is always much cuter when it is a she.


She was so dainty and yet so active, flying around the sky as if in some desperate pursuit, soothing was her voice, her chatter, her far away tweets. Yet unknown to me she had a heart of lead that weighed on her. I never knew then that all her energy was just a pretend, an act of the eloped. It would be some time since then when the bird would eventually come to rest in my palms and we would share much love and many emotions. But going back to the story, by then she had made herself a humble abode upon my little cherry tree, Indeed the cherry tree was not that little but she was a bit little when viewed in the context of the behemoths that surrounded her in the nearby woods.


As days flew by like the leaves in the autumn, she and I had made an invisible connection. I would often feel like she was talking to me when I heard her distant cooing and I would feel that the eternal dance of hers was but for me to watch. True or not we had got connected in a level of existence in a realm much above the one of common understanding. She had become my pet, neither the one that was bound by the materialistic confines of a cage nor the one whose heart and thought was confined by an authoritarian lease, but my pet nevertheless.


Abstract Bird
But then it had occurred on that day when the fate stood still, as it watched an eternal criss-crossing of destinies when my little bird had got hurt by some despicable evil. Her wings had been clipped, her freedoms curtained, she fell from the sky like a stone on to the heaps of scarlet leafs. She laid there in waiting for my warm hands to cup her and carry her to the warm coziness of my home and to the warmer corners of my heart. There I did dress her would with much love and compassion as if she was my little daughter, that too quiet literally with bandages and ointments that I had. I cared for her, I looked after her and from that day forth till today we spend innumerable evenings discussing and rambling about many a wonderful things during our customary evening siesta.


But then again as she gained my heart bit by bit, I started to dread the reality that was today, an inevitable day that was not in my power to prevent, I would have been cruel and selfish in the past few days praying that she never would get better but then again this was the day for which I had cared for her, the day she could be free once again and adorn my evening sky with her tweeting and ramblings. I know she would never fly far away and I know the cherry tree will forever remain her abode but then you could never tell and this very thought had been haunting me for some time now.


But nevertheless today is here and the day must happen for our destinies were written not now but ages ago. It stood there cupping her in my arms as it ruffled around her petite silhouette. I slowly undid her band aids and held my hands up in the air and with tears rolling down my cheek and sinister thoughts haunting my mind I let her go. I watched her fly away from by hand just like she always did I could feel the instantaneous loss of weight upon my hand. My heart skipped a beat when she skipped a flap of her wings and for that one moment when she appeared to fall my heart leap. But she is the child of freedom, it is in her nature to fly and it was inevitable that she would do that. I always knew that she was destined for freedom, though it is true that I wish she would not but hers is the sky to fly and ones again as I sit back in my chair looking up at the evening sky I knew what we were and how we were to be. 

Sunday 16 September 2012

Just Married, Please Excuse

Just Married, Please Excuse, Yashodhara Lal


Yashodhara Lal has did a stunning job when it came to writing her debut novel, Its simple, its sensitive and its sensible. The plot of the story can not be disclosed as I will be called a 'spoiler' but the essence of the story is this, the life of an average couple in the midst of the modern Indian urban cacophony.


The novel brings out the the collisions between tradition and modernism, the urge to be secure and independent and above all a desire to fit in. The story duly highlights the various emotional upheavals and the various tantrums of a modern marriage and the conscious effort that was needed to make it work every time it threatened to fall apart. As with most couples 'falling apart' seems to be central theme that the story revolves around. Incipiently the protagonist gives away the impression that the marriage in question is destined for the abyss and  chapter after chapter seems to be strengthening this conception. 


The story can never be called a classic or even for that matter an exceptional piece of literature, but I doubt that was ever the authors intention was either. The truthfulness and the simplicity of the story as it moves from city to city and from people to more people remains largely the same. The story though some what predictive is nevertheless very engaging and is a looking glass into the life and times of the modern Indian household. The story is engaging, indulgent and stunningly simple, there are now wild goose chases, no extravagant stunts and certainly not flamboyant turning of odds. Everything is laid down neatly by Mrs Lal in a simple and straight forward narrative. 


Just Married, Please Excuse is no Shakespeare or Dickens but that being said it is not a Mills and boons either. It is a sensitive and simple story that has been narrated with utmost honesty and love. The areas where it will score in a readers heart can be easily enumerated as its simplicity and its innate ability to be related to the lives of people that you and I know in abundance. In short it is a story about any metro-sexual modern couple out there in India's several metropolises.