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The Battle of Rezang La: Recalling the past

Posted on by kavyawahi

Kulpreet Yadav’s The Battle of Rezang La documents the bravery, gallantry, and patriotism of the soldiers who fought for India in 1962 war. The soldiers chose to hold their ground to the end, despite the fearful odds, defending their nation.

Here’s an excerpt from the book about the time when the speed of preparation of the bunkers and trenches in Rezang La gets a boost and the new recruits make up for the shortfall in manpower.

*

The Battle of Rezang La
The Battle of Rezang La || Kulpreet Yadav

On 30 October 1962, the Charlie Company received a message that forty-seven new recruits had landed at Chushul airfield at ten in the morning on 29 October 1962 and that day, after they had been addressed by Lt Col H.S. Dhingra, they would be escorted to Rezang La…

The first person Maj. Shaitan Singh saw there was Naik Ram Kumar who was the section in-charge of the 3-inch mortar post located 140 yards behind the company headquarters on a downward slope. Ram Kumar was an exceptional soldier and the major trusted him completely even though Ram Kumar had been demoted from Havildar to Naik due to a recent incident related to convoy discipline.

Ram Kumar stopped working as he saw his commander approach, saluted him and cheerfully said, ‘Ram ram sahab.

Welcome back to the unit.’

‘Thank you, Ram Kumar. You must be missing kabaddi here.’

‘Yes, sir. Here, we are spending our energy only on building our defences. Kabaddi bahut khel liya.’

The major smiled and asked, ‘How’s Mishri devi? Got any letters from home?’

Mishri devi was the name of Ram Kumar’s wife who was back in his village Bahrampur in the Rewari district of Haryana.

‘Yes, sir. She is doing good.’

He patted Ram Kumar’s shoulder and said, ‘That’s good to know . . . ’

After a pause of a few seconds, in which the major looked around and acknowledged the Ram-Rams of others working in the vicinity, he continued, ‘Ram Kumar, let’s finish the laying exercise of the 3-inch mortar today.’

‘Yes, sir. Today, the visibility is good too.’

‘Yes, and that is why it is the right time for us to conduct the mortar survey. You come with me. The others in your section can go ahead with the fortification of the mortar post.’

Nk Ram Kumar laid down his tools and started to walk alongside the major. After a few steps, the major said, ‘So, how does it feel to become a naik once again from havildar? Anyone making fun of you?’

‘Sir, they still think I’m a havildar, because that’s what I think in my head.’

The major laughed, ‘You know what, among the officers too, we have a few who behave as if they are colonels even when they are actually majors. Such officers go very far, Ram Kumar.’

‘Are you one of them, sir?’

The major turned to look at Ram Kumar, a mysterious twinkle in his eyes, ‘What do you think?’

‘I’m not sure, but I’m sure of one thing, sir.’

‘And what is that?’

‘Since you are so calm and composed all the time, I’m sure you will become a general one day.’

Maj. Shaitan Singh laughed, ‘If I become a general, Ram Kumar, you will be a subedar major and I will get you to whichever place I’m posted.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

They walked in silence for a few minutes.

‘Ram Kumar, though you hold the rank of a naik now and the 3-inch commander should ideally be of havildar rank, I have still positioned you there. Do you know why?’

‘Because you trust me, sir.’

‘Exactly. I have seen you handling the 3-inch mortar . . . let’s do a proper survey today, find out the probable enemy approaches and range our mortar.’

‘Yes, sir.’

By now, they had crossed the platoon 9 position on the forward slope and stood looking east, in the direction the Ops had been reporting the enemy’s position. Both turned as they heard a sound right behind them. It was Naib Subedar Surja Ram.

‘Sahab, Ram Ram!’

‘Ram Ram, Surja sahab.’

‘Sahab, what’s the order?’

‘Surja sahab, Ram Kumar and I are here to identify enemy approaches and mark them. Where do you think they will come from?’

Surja scratched his chin and said, ‘Sahab, I think they will come in the night through the nullahs. Somewhere between three and four, early morning.’

Ram Kumar said, ‘Sahab, from what we have learned so far from the NEFA and Srijap attacks is that the Chinese use human waves.’

The major’s face was now taut with seriousness, ‘Yes, and one more thing, they use surprise as a strategy, like they had used in Korea.’

‘Sir, we will defeat every attack of the Chinese. They might have the numbers, but we have Dada Kishan ka ashirwad.’

‘Absolutely.’

They were quiet for a few seconds. Then the major asked, ‘Suggest a few names for the target positions, Ram Kumar.’

Ram Kumar replied, ‘Sir, let’s use the name of birds, like tota, maina, bulbul, kabutar, mor, chidiya wagarah.’

**

Read The Battle of Rezang La for a detailed account of the events of the 1962 war.

On Karma and spirituality: A chat with Acharya Prashant

Posted on by kavyawahi

Acharya Prashant, a Vedanta philosopher, an Advaita teacher, and the author of Karma, talks about his transition from the corporate world to the spiritual world. He also answers questions about Karma, a word as common in the spiritual lexicon as in the popular parlance.

Karma
Karma || Acharya Prashant

After studying at IIM and working in the corporate sector, you took respite into the world of wisdom and spirituality. How did you overcome the difficult period of ‘sorrow, longing, and search’?
The basic inner challenge that life presents to us remains the same, no matter what the circumstances are. The one all pervasive and ubiquitous challenge is to keep doing the ‘right thing’ even in the most difficult situations. So whether one is an MBA student or a corporate employee or a spiritual leader, one has to act rightly – which simply means to not act from a personal centre of greed and/or fear.

There has never been any tectonic shift in my life as such. As an individual, I have always aimed at gradually trekking higher and higher. So, this movement from being a consultant in the corporate world to leading PrashantAdvait Foundation, is to be understood as a process of elevation and not of renunciation. The shift was only towards something higher, towards something more critical and of higher caliber. And the search . . . it has not ended; it is very much there. But yes, the destination has changed.

 

Your book, Karma, was first spoken and written later. What made you pen down hundreds of questions that you’ve verbally answered in a decade?
Every project that the Foundation undertakes is in tandem with the needs and requirements of those for whose sake it exists. As an organisation and as a socio-spiritual mission, PrashantAdvait Foundation exists to serve and transform contemporary society. And one of its prominent objectives is to liberate spirituality from superstition; which could not have been possible without a total repudiation of the false beliefs linked with the concept of Karma – and this, we know, has been quite successfully achieved with the book. Because the Foundation believes in harnessing each and every medium/platform for the Mission, the idea to write books (and make them reach the masses on a wide scale) occurred quite naturally to us.

 

Why do you think what people know about Karma is wrong?
Unfortunately, today there is hardly any concept in spirituality which has not been both misinterpreted and misrepresented. The same tradition to which we owe gems like Sri Bhagwad Gita, has sadly become a vehicle for misappropriation. Real meanings and implications of concepts linked with spirituality stand obfuscated and distorted by centuries of misplaced expositions and self-appeasing translations.
So, instead of asking what is wrong in the contemporary definition of Karma, we should be skeptical enough to ask: is there really anything at all that is right about it? Because had there been even a single grain of truth in it, we humans couldn’t have been the way they are – violent, chaotic, depressed, loveless, faithless, and what not!

 

In your book, you’ve mentioned that one must do what is right and forget about the result. Is there an ideal way to work without expecting results?

It is not the expectation that is to be dropped, but the one with the expectation that must transform. If the actor – the doer, the centre from where the action is happening – is itself the one with desires and expectations, then no attempt to work without expecting results would be successful.
So do not look at the expectations, look at the one who is expecting. And having looked at it attentively, you might find the key to ‘Nishkama Karma’.

 

In one of the chapters, you have said, ‘Just be wisely selfish and help others’. Can you elaborate on what you mean by being ‘wisely selfish’? Does being selfish not count as bad Karma?

Selfishness is bad when the self is petty; but when the self reaches spiritual heights and the relationship with the other is of Love, then being selfish gets redefined as being compassionate.

 

Do you plan on writing another book? If yes, what would you like to focus on?

All I can say right now is that I will keep addressing issues that require attention, and books on those issues/topics/concepts will continue to be circulated to the masses.

Biggest hurdle for millennials: The education system

Posted on by malika

India is one of the youngest countries in the world and the generation of millennials make up for over 400 million people. This is the largest generation of people in the world.

That means that the choices and trajectory of this generation have pivotal consequences on local, regional, and global politics and economics. So the important question is: What do Indian millennials want? What are their economic aspirations and their social views? Most importantly, what makes them tick?

One thing that definitely gets in the way of millennials getting what they want, is the Indian education system. Read this exclusive excerpt from Vivan Marwaha’s What Millennials Want to find out how and why.

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What Millennials Want FC
What Millennials Want||Vivan Marwaha

In 1961, the government of Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru established two Indian Institutes of Management (IIM), the first in Calcutta and the second in Ahmedabad. Calcutta was established in conjunction with the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s Sloan School of Management, while the campus in Ahmedabad was to collaborate with the Harvard Business School.

The institutions, which have trained some of India’s and the world’s brightest business leaders, were the product of an inherently socialist idea. Almost ten years after independence from British colonial rule, there were simply not enough managers for India’s numerous public sector enterprises. These public undertakings, from mining corporations to ordnance factories, required well-trained executives to steer the young country’s industrial growth, and native talent was in short supply. The Planning Commission of India, the Soviet-inspired body which was tasked with developing five-year plans for the growth of the Indian economy, invited Professor George Robbins from the University of California, Los Angeles to fix this problem and help conceive an education institution to offer young Indians a practical business education.

Since then, investments were made in expanding university education, and the two institutions soon grew to twenty. The flagship institutions boast of a roster of hugely successful alumni, from RBI governor Raghuram Rajan and cricket commentator Harsha Bhogle to novelist Chetan Bhagat and former PepsiCo worldwide CEO Indira Nooyi, among numerous others in the Indian and global financial system. But they just weren’t enough. As Indians began to see these elite institutions as a ticket to a prosperous job at a multinational, and eventually, a career outside India, admission became extremely competitive. The private sector began to fill the gap between the demand and supply, and since then, thousands of private colleges opened across India to offer students a management education.

Most of India’s education system has a similar story. Today, the few good universities, colleges and schools, largely founded by the government or built during colonial rule, educate only a small number of individuals, while a vast private sector has mushroomed to fill the gaps in what the government failed to universalize.

What all of this has created is a deeply flawed system which tends to reward those with existing privileges or resources. Karthik Muralidharan, the Tata Chancellor’s Professor of economics at the University of California, San Diego, finds that the Indian education system is not built to educate students, but to filter them.1 In a 2005 paper, with co-authors Gretchen Cheney and Betsy Ruzzi, he argues that historically education in India served as a ‘gatekeeper, permitting an avenue of upward mobility only to those with resources’.2 Unfortunately, this remains true in 2021. Indian students spend years studying for board examinations, college entrance examinations, and public sector job tests to continuously filter them towards better opportunities. But in all the rote memorization and formulae required for success, the most significant purpose of learning— education, gets lost.

Although the privatization taking place in the sector was intended to make it more inclusive, it was, in fact, exclusionary and insufficient. Furthermore, India’s early prioritization of tertiary education came at the expense of primary-level schooling, creating vast inequities and poor standards of education that continue to this very day. These problems only exacerbated as India’s population continued to increase, as socialist India could not provide employment to the millions of young Indians who needed it. As the economy began to open up, the growth of Information Technology services in the country led to the creation of coaching industries dedicated to preparing students to either become software engineers or government servants. This is not because the education system had succeeded in preparing students for the future, but rather because it had failed.

In effect, India created an elaborate system which serves to filter its students towards IITs, IIMs and public service jobs instead of educating them to succeed in the modern economy Millennials have largely finished their education at the time of writing this book, and their time in school or college is not the first experience we may think about when understanding the generation. But if we’re looking at many of the challenges millennials face today, it’s because of the education system.

Terrific twelve: The ultimate guide to Namita Gokhale’s wonderfully witty world

Posted on by prhi-dev

Few authors capture the oddities of a zeitgeist, not just the soaring spirit but the awkwardness, the tiny contradictions that make life both messy and loveable as charmingly as Namita Gokhale— social commentator extraordinaire. Her books are as diverse as her host of unforgettable characters—from incisively witty dissections of individuals against a range of social backdrops to retellings and examinations of Indian mythology.

The Blind Matriarch||Namita Gokhale

 

Adding to this behemoth of a bibliography is her latest novel, The Blind Matriarch, which sketches a vivid portrait of an Indian joint family against the backdrop of the first and second waves of the pandemic, of the world in flux that we have inhabited for the last two years.

Before you read The Blind Matriarch here’s a quick list to help you acquaint yourself with some of Namita Gokhale’s oeuvre. Go ahead and fill up your to-read list for the month!

 

Paro|| Namita Gokhale

 

Paro: Dreams of Passion

First published in 1984, to both notoriety and critical acclaim, Paro remains a social comedy without parallel in contemporary Indian writing. Paro, heroic temptress, glides like an exotic

bird of prey through the world of privilege and Scotch that the rich of Bombay and Delhi inhabit, amidst her motley court of admirers including Lenin, the Marxist son of a cabinet minister; the fat and sinister Shambhu Nath Mishra, Congress Party eminence grise; Bucky Bhandpur, test cricketer and scion of a princely family to name but a few!

 

 

 

 

Priya||Namita Gokhale

 

Priya

India is shining, and Suresh Kaushal, the stout lawyer -of sober habits’, has propelled himself up the political ladder to become Minister of State for Food Processing, Animal Husbandry, Fisheries and Canneries. His wife Priya can’t believe their luck and, determined to ensure it doesn’t run out,  struggles valiantly with -social vertigo, infidelity and menopause. In this wickedly funny, occasionally tender, book, Namita Gokhale resurrects some unforgettable characters from her 1984 cult bestseller Paro, and plunges them neck-deep into Delhi’s toxic waste of power, money and greed.

 

 

 

Shakuntala: The Play of Memory|| Namita Gokhale

 

 Shakuntala: The Play of Memory

On the ghats of Kashi, the most ancient of cities, a woman confronts memories that have pursued her through birth and rebirth. In the life she recalls, she is Shakuntala of the northern mountains-spirited, imaginative, but destined like her legendary namesake to suffer ‘the samskaras of abandonment’. Stifled by social custom, hungry for experience, she deserts home and family to travel far and wide with a Greek horse merchant she meets by the Ganga.  But an old restlessness compels her to forsake this life as well-and court tragedy.

 

 

 

 

God, Graves and Grandmother|| Namita Gokhale

 

Gods, Graves and Grandmother

‘Before mother left, in a long-ago time, we had been very rich. My grandmother had been a great singer, a kothewali whose voice was more liquid and beautiful than Lata Mangeshkar’s. Eleven nawabs and two Englishmen were besotted with the love of her.’ From these great heights, Gudiya’s world plunges into the depths of almost complete penury when she arrives in Delhi with her ancient grandmother, Ammi, fleeing small-town scandal and disgrace. Just when all seems lost, Ammi works a miracle: a slab of green marble stolen from a building site, and five rounded pebbles from a sahib’s garden, are transformed by the power of her singing voice into an inviolable place of worship. As we follow the twists and turns of Gudiya’s story, we see unfold before us the peculiar dance of chance and will that is human existence.

 

 

A Himalayan Love Story|| Part 1 of the Himalayan Trilogy

A Himalayan Love Story- Book I of the Himalayan Trilogy

A study in unrequited love, with its terrible irony and tragic urgency, told through the tale of two exiles. Parvati is young, beautiful and seemingly doomed; blooming early yet unable to find lasting love. Orphaned in adolescence and adopted by her headmaster uncle, Parvati escapes the constraints of this temporary home but, like many young women before her, finds a new prison in marriage. So when Mukul Nainwal, the local boy who has always loved her, returns to Nainital, he finds Parvati changed—she is a new challenge to his ideals, despite all his worldly success

 

 

 

 

 

The Book of Shadows: Book 2 of The Himalayan Trilogy

The Book of Shadows— Book II of the Himalayan Trilogy

Part ghost story, part erotic romance, The Book of Shadows is an ambitious book that investigates the nature of reality, love and faith. Scarred by her lover’s suicide and an acid attack that has left her permanently disfigured, Rachita Tiwari has sought refuge in a remote house in the Himalayan foothills. In this rambling house, built by a foolhardy missionary over a hundred years ago, she lives alone with an ancient and mysterious manservant, Lohaniju. As she retreats into herself, battling for her sanity and fearful of a world she no longer trusts, a different dimension claims her and the tremendous history of the house is played out before her.

 

 

 

 

 

Things To Leave Behind|| Part 3 of the Himalayan trilogy

Things to Leave Behind— Book III of the Himalayan Trilogy

Kumaon, 1856. History has already begun its steady march. Six native women clad in black and scarlet pichauras huddle around Naineetal Lake, attempting to cleanse it of ominous influences. Amidst a theatre of British impunity, feisty young Tilottama Dutt, whose uncle is hung when he protests the reigning order, and her daughter, Deoki, confront change as Indians and as women. Here is a fascinating historical epic illuminating with painstaking detail the mixed legacy of the British-Indian past.

 

 

 

 

 

Lost in Time: Ghatotkacha and the Game of Illusions

Lost In Time: Ghatotkacha And The Game Of Illusions

Young Chintamani Dev Gupta, on holiday in a bird camp near Lake Sattal, is transported via a wormhole to the days of the Mahabharata. Trapped in time, he meets Ghatotkacha and his mother, the demoness Hidimba. But the gentle giant, a master of illusion and mind-boggling rakshasa technology, wields his strength just as well as he knows the age-old secrets of the forest and the elemental forces. And in his enlightening company, Chintamani finds himself in the thick of the events of the most enduring Indian epic. This unusual take on YA literature offers an intense yet tender look at a rare friendship as well as the abiding puzzles of the past.

 

 

 

 

The Puffin Mahabharata|| Namita Gokhale

The Puffin Mahabharata

‘Told and retold a million times, the story of the Mahabharata is about defeat as much as victory, about humility as much as courage. It is the greatest story ever told.’

Like a modern-day suta or storyteller, Namita Gokhale brings alive India’s richest literary treasure with disarming ease and simplicity. She retells this timeless tale of mortals and immortals and stories within stories, of valour, deceit, glory, and despair, for today’s young reader in a clear, contemporary style.

 

 

 

 

The Book of Shiva|| Namita Gokhale

 

The Book Of Shiva

Shiva: Destroyer and Protector, Supreme Ascetic and Lord of the Universe. He is Ardhanarishwara, half-man and half-woman; he is Neelakantha, who drank poison to save the three worlds-and yet, when crazed with grief at the death of Sati, set about destroying them. Shiva holds within him the answers to some of the greatest dilemmas that have perplexed mankind. Who is Shiva? Why does he roam the world as a naked ascetic covered with ash? What was the tandava? What is the story behind the worship of the linga and what vision of the world does it signify? Namita Gokhale examines these questions and many others that lie within the myriad of stories about Shiva. Even as she unravels his complexities, she finds a philosophy and worldview that is terrifying and yet life-affirming—an outlook that is to many the essence of Indian thought.

 

 

In Search of Sita: Revisiting Mythology|| Edited by Malashri Lal and Namita Gokhale

In Search Of Sita: Revisiting Mythology (Edited by Malashri Lal and Namita Gokhale)

Sita is one of the defining figures of Indian womanhood, yet there is no single version of her story. Different accounts coexist in myth, literature and folktale. Canonical texts deify Sita while regional variations humanize her. However, she is remembered, revered or written about, Sita continues to exert a powerful influence on the collective Indian psyche. In Search of Sita presents essays, conversations and commentaries that explore different aspects of her life-offering fresh interpretations of this enigmatic figure and her indelible impact on our everyday lives.

 

 

 

 

 

Jaipur Journals: A Love Letter to the Greatest Literary Show on Earth..|| Namita Gokhale

Jaipur Journals

Partly a love letter to the greatest literary show on earth, partly a satire about the glittery set that throngs this literary venue year on year, and partly an ode to the millions of aspiring writers who wander the earth with unsubmitted manuscripts in their bags, Jaipur Journals is a light-footed romp that showcases Gokhale’s unsparing eye for the pretensions and the pathos of that loneliest tribe of them all: the writers. Told from multiple perspectives, set against the backdrop of the vibrant multilingual Jaipur Literature Festival, Jaipur Journals features diverse stories of lost love and regret.

 

On inspiration and art: Author and illustrator of Topi Rockets from Thumba

Posted on by kavyawahi

Menaka Raman’s fascinating book about the launch of India’s first ever rocket, Topi Rockets From Thumba, has charmingly beautiful illustrations made by Annada Menon.

In a delightful chat, the duo shared about their ideas, inspirations, and experiences of writing and illustrating the book.

 

Questions for Menaka Raman, Author

 

What inspired you choose this theme and instance from history?

The iconic photograph of the two scientists pushing the nose cone of the rocket on the back of a bicycle the starting point of this book for me. I just found something so moving about the image and when I started reading the story behind it I was hooked. I had to no more!

Topi Rockets from Thumba
Topi Rockets from Thumba || Menaka Raman, Annada Menon, Illustrator

What research went into writing this book?

So much research! This was my first attempt at creative nonfiction and I was so nervous. I wanted to make sure I got all the facts straight and the timelines right. Plus, the more I read about Dr. Sarabhai and the amazing team of scientists behind this historic moment, the greater a sense of responsibility I felt I wanted to convey what Dr Sarabhai was like, why people were so drawn to him and of course his infectious enthusiasm. My starting point was Amrita Shah’s biography of Dr Sarabhai and then I went on to read Lavanya Karthik and Shamim Padamsee’s children’s biography of Dr APJ Kalam, ISRO A Personal History by R.Aravamudan and From Fishing Hamlet to Red Planet by Dr. UR Manoranjan Rao. Articles, papers and interviews with people who worked at ISRO were all key to my research. I also wanted to get things like the names of the characters right, so I reached out to friends for help and advice on that!

Of course at the end of it all I had so much research notes that I had to decide what to keep in the story! That was hard!

How did you decide to compare the ‘nose cone’ of rocket with ‘topi dosa’?

When I first saw the photograph of the nose cone on the cycle, it really struck me ‘Wow! This looks like a topi doas!’ I must have been hungry at the time!

Are you planning to write another book on similar theme?

I would absolutely love to! Now that I’ve had a taste of it, my antennae are up for other great stories like this!

 

Questions for Annada Menon, Illustrator

 

What intrigued you about the story of Topi Rockets from Thumba at first? What made you illustrate it?

When I was offered to illustrate for the book I already was in the zone of being intrigued by the topic of outer space. I follow and have also read a book by the astronaut Chris Hadfield. He increased my curiosity of space and to this day does. Though I was aware of Dr. Sarabhai , I didn’t know details of his endeavours. His story and drawing it from the perspective of Mary, the charatcer in the book, was a lovely way to celebrate his work. I guess apart from that the idea of drawing rockets excited me. It poked the child in me to have fun on the journey of illustrating the book.

How did you finalise the style of art for this book? What other styles were your options?

This was actually finalised with the help of my art director, Antra. We actually wanted to go for a very textured yet slightly detailed approach to the illustrations. I like that the book has 2 spreads that are based on Mary’s imagination. The pages consist of what a rocket would like according to Mary to how a rocket is fighting a storm. I had to make sure these pages stood out from the raw look of the other pages to show the simplistic environment of Thumba. I actually didn’t ponder over too many style options. From the author to the editor, they wanted some of my existing approaches if drawing to flow into it. Hence I just went with my gut to execute it.

How different or similar was the first draft to the final version?

Well, the ideas from 90% of the sketch / draft stage were carried forward to the final stage. I think anything that changed while illustrating are mostly the technical aspects of the book. Since it is a STEM book we had to make sure scientific elements were accurate . I also had to make sure that the people of Thumba and the place itself looked close to what it may have been during the 1960s . There aren’t too many image references to these from the mentioned time. The tricky part is most of these images are black and white so representing or reimagining them in color was a fun experience.

What do you think is special about the illustrations in this book?

I actually don’t know if this a ‘blow one’s own trumpet’ kind of question (chuckles). Well, I guess what I can say about the illustration that it has been drawn with a lot of innocence and curiosity. The book is meant to subtly introduce a child to the beauty of space and a brief introduction to Dr. Sarabhai’s contribution to India’s space program. Since it is a light read the illustrations are meant to compliment the same. Also, in a subtle way the illustrations are an ode to nature’s elements water, earth , wind and fire (3 elements depicting Thumba and 1 depicting a rocket). I guess for me these little things make it special.

Meet the characters from the historical epic Asoca

Posted on by malika

Asoca-often spelled Ashoka-was hailed as Ashoka the Great, the emperor who ruled most of the Indian Subcontinent and was pivotal in the spread of Buddhism from India to other parts of Asia in the third century BC. But his life as emperor was not always led by non-violence. History has it that he masterminded one of the biggest and deadliest wars ever fought, and it was the insurmountable grief he experienced at the sight of the people dying and dead on the battleground that made him turn to Buddhism and take a vow of ahimsa.

 

Who was the man, and who was the king? What were his demons, and what gave him strength? Asoca: A Sutra,  drawn from research and portrayed with energy and complexity, transports the reader to the era of the Mauryan dynasty with atmospheric vividness and insight.

 

Here are 5 memorable characters from Irwin Allen Sealy’s historical novel

 

**

 

Asoca FC
Asoca||Irwin Allen Sealy

Asoca – The nonconformist, mighty emperor of the Mauryan empire. A contrarian by nature, he is stubborn but thoughtful. He may not the most good-looking man, but for his mother he is her ‘little rhizome.’

 

‘From early childhood words were a game, and the pleasures of this game were those of reshaping the world… Rule your speech and you rule the world. My voice owed a little to every person and place I had known and admired, but the mix was mine alone.’

 

‘The hardest part, I found, was sitting there at all once all your factotums had left: alone with empire, imagining the extent of it off to one side and then the other way and then forward and backward on every side till you felt yourself positively abandoned.’

‘Every kingdom needs an honest, fearless man…to show up both the charlatan who seizes power and the incumbent who has lost his way.’

 

Uncle K –  The shrewd strategist of Mauryan legacy, the creator of the immense Arthashastra, Asoca’s Uncle K is always by the King’s side. The King’s chief advisor, Uncle K talks like a book and his eyes, ears and mind are everywhere.

 

“Crooked as his name portends, bent in every part, twisted from hairpiece to toenails, this aged crow makes blackness look grey. Guile is younger—the hills are younger—than Kautilya, maker and keeper of kings.”

 

“The arch-monarchist for whom the kingdom was more important than his tenure as prime minister, than his own position as kingmaker, than life itself.”

 

Bindusara, the Dotted – He is the handsome Mauryan King, the man of virtues who prefers reconciliation to war. He grew up to rule—and to rue the day he was born.

‘My father Bindusara was a handsome man. Good looks were important to him, and they reappeared in his firstborn like vindication. Susima was a mirror in which he saw his chief virtue displayed, and father and son took it less as a gift of nature than as a divine right: it was a mark of approval, even, you would think, accomplishment.’

‘Father, whose sword leapt from its scabbard in the course of every rousing speech, whose lusty verses were applauded in the gardens at the annual festival, and whose concubines lived in terror of a visit on any given night, this man was crying.’

 

Madhumitta – Her name implies nectar of the gods. She is Asoca’s Queen Bee, his anchor, the woman he loved and desired.

‘The look in her eye said she would serve the truth. Such assurance burns in the elect; it is what creates disciples. Her determination awed me. Service was to me an abstract concept, a secular, almost departmental thing. For Madhumitta it was an article of faith.’

‘Madhumitta, dear wife, I cannot believe you have forgotten me in your nunnery. I have forgotten nothing, not the tender abstraction on your forehead, not the soft broom in your gentle hand of a morning, not the silent reproof to an erring child or errant husband, not the loving kindness you spread through that house you ruled.’

 

Susima – The eldest son of Bindusara, heir apparent of the empire. The apple of everyone’s eyes, he become Asoca’s arch-rival in his quest for the throne.

‘He [Susima] was, truth be told, the noblest of us all. He didn’t lie or cheat or push and shove and scramble. But then, he didn’t have to. He carried himself as if the crown were a settled thing.’

‘Susima, ultimate theoretician, wrapped in birchbark scroll for armour. He was still the master of the cool shot, born of meditation and intellect; I was the poor guerilla. A Susiman universe was the opposite of mine.’

**

Asoca: A Sutra leaves the reader breathless with the full-bodied richness of Sealy’s prose, his trademark whimsy and his imaginative modern reconstruction of that enigmatic and brilliant ruler of the Indian subcontinent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love or lust?

Posted on by malika

In The Lovers of Rampore, Ashok Chopra delves into the many mysterious forms of love thus introducing a mystic quality to the everyday lives of his characters. From the thrills of lust to the joys and fears of genuine commitment, to the exploration of desire and dispassion that exist in all relationships, this is the story of love in all its different manifestations.

Ashok Chopra weaves a contemporary Bayeux tapestry of richly detailed stories which are mature, slow-burning and strum with a quiet passion that cuts across class, gender, and age, fundamentally altering the way we perceive love. In doing so, he also challenges society’s archaic understanding of the bonding between people.

Here’s a peek into this book that boasts all the glory of a royal romance in a modern day setting that hits much closer to home.

~

 

The Lovers of Rampore||Ashok Chopra

From the day after her birthday, Tina waited for Vikram to contact her. To ring her up or at least message her, not that he had ever done that before. As each day went by, with no call from him, her desire to meet him, to be with him, increased. She toyed with the idea of calling him. Should she think of some excuse or the other and send him a text message? She couldn’t think of any. Should she land up at his home again? No, she dare not repeat that trick, as she had no excuse to do so this time. And even if she had one, he may realize that the first time, too, was a ploy.

Why did she want to be with him so much? Shouldn’t she, first of all, try and make up with Neeraj? She tried to honestly answer that question, but she couldn’t. Then one night she found it in her sleep. She dreamt that Vikram had come to her room. Quickly, without a preamble, he took off his clothes and came to where she sat. His body, in the nude, was exquisite. She felt the excitement throbbing in her temples and her face became flushed. He helped her undo her nightdress and then together,  naked on the bed, they made love. It was pure rapture. Absolute bliss. She thought that she would die of ecstasy. But she wouldn’t mind dying in his arms. In bed, he was a fabulous lover, so much better than Neeraj had ever been.

In the morning, she reviewed the entire sequence of her lovemaking with Vikram, without any feeling of guilt or embarrassment. She finally admitted to herself that she found him very attractive—with a fine, sensitive, well-chiselled face, the dimple in the chin and the lithe and perfectly balanced body, which exuded strength and power. All this, and much more, had often filled her with the yearning to be close to him, to reach out and touch him, to hold him close. Her dream merely reaffirmed this feeling. She knew that she desired him, that she really enjoyed making love to him. But, though also important, there was more to her feelings for Vikram than a mere sexual attraction. What it was she could not put her finger on.

The last of the roses that he had brought for her birthday languished, but she did not want to throw them away. Finally, she had to because they were all dead and the water had become contaminated. As she poured the water from the vase into the sink, she knew she had to see him, come what may. Damn the reasons and analyses, she told herself. She was desperate to see him, to be with him, to see his face, hear his voice and to put her lips on his.

As luck would have it, she got a call from Mahtab amma.

Perveen Mistry can’t rest until she sees justice done

Posted on by prhi-dev

November 1921. Edward VIII, Prince of Wales and future ruler of India, is arriving in Bombay to begin a fourmonth tour. The Indian subcontinent is chafing under British rule, and Bombay solicitor Perveen Mistry isn’t surprised when local unrest over the royal arrival spirals into riots. But she’s horrified by the death of Freny Cuttingmaster, an eighteen-year-old female Parsi student, who falls from a second-floor gallery just as the prince’s grand procession is passing by her college.

When Freny’s death appears suspicious, Perveen knows she can’t rest until she sees justice done. But Bombay is erupting: as armed British secret service march the streets, rioters attack anyone with perceived British connections and desperate shopkeepers destroy their own wares so they will not be targets of racial violence. Can Perveen help a suffering family when her own is in danger?

Here is an excerpt from Sujata Massey’s new book, The Bombay Prince that talks about Freny’s death.

*

The Bombay Prince: Perveen Mistry Investigates || Sujata Massey

“Miss Mistry, come down here,” Miss Daboo beseeched. Perveen knelt down and, feeling queasy, reached out to touch Freny’s wrist. It was still warm, yet the veins on the inside of her wrist seemed deflated. She could not detect a pulse. Perveen’s mother, Camellia, and sister-in-law, Gulnaz, were the kind of women brave enough to volunteer in hospitals. They might know another spot to look for a pulse. All Perveen could think of was the heartbeat.
Freny had fallen on her right side, so it was possible for Perveen to slide her hand under the khadi cloth and over the left side of Freny’s white cotton blouse.

“Don’t be obscene!” Miss Daboo muttered in Gujarati, and Perveen belatedly realized there were men watching her. Having felt no sign of life, she pulled back her hand.

“We must pray. God can work miracles.” Another Englishman had appeared. He looked to be in his fifties, with a long face made even paler by its contrast with his black robe. Right behind him was a breathless Principal Atherton.

The principal and the college chaplain had taken long enough to arrive at a scene of crucial emergency. But perhaps the police had occupied Principal Atherton’s time getting details about Dinesh Apte. And why weren’t they with him now?

The answer came: The college’s leadership didn’t know Freny was dead. Only she and Miss Daboo knew the truth. Or maybe— Lalita also did. Surely she would have tried to help her friend sit up. Surely—

Mr. Atherton spoke between gasps. “I’ve just heard—about the accident—from the reverend.” Two more breaths. “Who is she?”

“Her name is Freny Cuttingmaster,” Alice said. “She’s a second-year student.”

“And what about you? Are you a nurse?” Mr. Atherton’s face was reddened, no doubt from agitation and heat.

“Sorry, I am not.” Perveen looked away from him and back at Freny. She thought of saying she was a lawyer, but it didn’t seem the right place.

“Miss Perveen Mistry, my old friend from Oxford, is here at my invitation,” Alice said quickly. “Miss Mistry, this is Mr. Ath- erton, our principal, and our chaplain, Reverend Sullivan.”

Principal Atherton pressed his lips together disapprovingly. “I am not—entertaining interviews for women faculty. This is an emergency—”

“I’m not a teacher; I’m a solicitor with a practice nearby.” Having honestly admitted her field, Perveen didn’t know how long the college administrator would allow her to linger.

“Miss Acharya, is it correct that you were first on the scene?” Atherton had turned his attention to the student, who was clutching Alice.

“Yes. I was a few yards ahead of the others,” Lalita said in a choked voice. “Miss Daboo was with me as well.”

Atherton’s eyebrows drew together. “And where was Miss Cuttingmaster during the procession?”

“Actually, we realized midway through the proceedings she wasn’t in the stands with us.” Lalita’s voice was hesitant, as if she didn’t want to admit she’d known all along the girl hadn’t showed up.

“Yes. She must have had her accident while we were turned watching the prince!” Miss Daboo said.

The excitement of the parade could have masked any cries, even though the college and its garden were just a few dozen yards behind the viewing stand.

“Maybe she fell down. I only hope . . .” Lalita’s voice trailed off.

“What is it you are hoping, my dear?” Reverend Sullivan prompted.

“I hope she’s going to wake up.” Lalita was clenching and unclenching her hands. “Why can’t the nurse come from the infirmary? Didn’t anyone call for her?”

“Leave the response to faculty,” said the reverend.

“I think someone should fetch the police.” As Perveen said it, she couldn’t believe the words had even come from her mouth. The police! The men who’d so recently challenged her were needed to secure the scene and take note of details.

“The police?” Mr. Atherton’s voice faltered. “But Miss Daboo says this is an accident.” He shook his head as he looked at the smooth path and neat green lawn. “I wonder what caused her to fall?”

“It could be that she jumped. This was going to be a day of protest for some.” Reverend Sullivan turned to grimace at the mass of students standing a respectful distance behind. “I know some of you are in the resistance club. If you were aware that she was planning self-destruction, you must tell us now.”

Did the chaplain understand Freny’s life was gone? Perveen looked at his stern, unmoving face until he glared at her.

One of the boys in a Gandhi cap raised a hand and spoke when the chaplain acknowledged him. “Reverend, nobody heard any such talk in the Student Union meetings.”

A blond man in his twenties, who had a shaken expression, put a hand on the shoulder of the student who’d spoken. “That is my impression as well. Arjun, thank you for coming forward.”

“I’ll go for the police,” a student voice said from within the crowd, and three boys took off through the gate.

*

What really happened? And what is going to happen next?

Get a copy of Sujata Massey’s The Bombay Prince to find out!

Ode to an Indian childhood’s favourite friend, Subhadra Sen Gupta

Posted on by prhi-dev

Covid might have taken away one of our most beloved authors, Subhadra Sen Gupta this year, but when schools reopen and children are back to their libraries, we could meet her again. In every children’s library in India, there’ll always be a corner that would sound like the shrieky excitement and the giggly wonder of kids and it would forever belong to the writer who said she wrote stories for the best readers in the world – children.

 

Since decades now, she is one of the ‘most issued’ authors in our school libraries along with J.K. Rowling and Roald Dahl. Her books were the first few that introduced children of India to literature that was based in the environment they belonged to. Her characters had names like ours, lived in cities like ours and had a life that we could relate to, unlike the western culture that had been dominating children’s and adult literature in India. Most importantly, Sen Gupta made history interesting for so many of us!

 

She took us through historical times with stories of unknown and unsung characters like a young maid of a princess during the Mauryan period or a dhobi who learnt to sing from Tansen under the reign of Akbar. The author introduced a literary culture that revolutionized writing in the day! Inculcating the thought that every story matters, whether it is the tale of a king or a pawn, interweaving genres together so children can learn about history through interactive storytelling or to make the habit of reading genuinely fun- Sen Gupta did it all!

 

While some of her most recounted stories are The Story of the World’s Worst Cook, Goodbye Pasha Begum and Mystery of the House of Pigeons, she went on to do something quite remarkable and extraordinary. She wrote The Constitution of India for Children and created a handbook in a fun and digestible format, explaining the most important document of our nation and even addressed issues like the participation of women in the drafting of the constitution.

 

Unfortunately, the literary icon passed away in May of this year due to Covid-19, at the age of 68, with probably more interesting stories and books inside her, waiting to be inked on paper.

However, we do have one last gift from her to the world and we’d love to share it with you! Told through the portraits of children growing up in the villages, towns and courts of our country, Let’s Go Time Travelling Again is Subhadra Sen Gupta’s sequel to the series and a vivid glimpse into our past.

 

Let’s Go Time Travelling Again || Subhadra Sen Gupta

How did Indian mulmuls make it into Cleopatra’s wardrobe? Who popularized the Mahabharata in households across the country? Did our ancestors really identify Jupiter and Saturn without even a telescope?

Find the answers to these and many other unusual questions about the India of yesterday. Go time travelling through the alleys of history and explore the many occupations that have existed through time – from dancers and playwrights to farmers and doctors. Sift through snapshots of the rich life led by ordinary Indians and discover unexpected titbits about language, food and culture.

This last book by our beloved author is replete with fascinating stories, information, and trivia about our ancient civilizations, kingdoms, and people.

 

A lesson to become a great leader

Posted on by kavyawahi

Your education teaches a lot, but it doesn’t quite prepare you for the larger game of life. Does it? Prakash Iyer’s How Come No One Told Me That? is a cornucopia of stories that can help you lead a life of purpose and significance. The small and seemingly unimportant experiences of your life can teach you many valuable lessons and Iyer’s book is a collection of such anecdotes and everyday events.

Here’s an excerpt from the book about the white handkerchief of the chairman of Hindustan Unilever. It’s a story that’s been retold to successive generations of young managers at the company. It’s a reminder for all to fix a problem when they see it.

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How Come No One Told Me That?
How Come No One Told Me That? || Prakash Iyer

The chairman of Hindustan Unilever was on a market visit in a small town in Kerala. At one store, he noticed a tin of Dalda (a popular brand of vanaspati at that time) on a corner shelf. As he reached out to take a closer look at the tin, he was horrified to see a thick layer of dust on the lid. There were sheepish looks on the faces of the folks accompanying the chairman. It wasn’t something they wanted the chairman to see. The sales team’s routine included cleaning stocks on the shelf—with particular attention to food products. This was a bad miss.

And what did the chairman do? Scream and shout? Threaten to sack someone? Talk about the need for better execution? Nope.

He put his hand into his trouser pocket, pulled out a clean, white handkerchief and proceeded to wipe the Dalda tin clean. That was it. He did what any foot soldier of the company might have done. It was about getting a job done, rather than worrying about whose job it was.

The sales team got the message, of course. Far better than they might have had the chairman shown anger and disappointment. The retailer’s respect for the company went up a few notches in that instant too. All those present that day got a masterclass in leadership. And as the story got retold over the years, young managers began to understand what a leader’s work ethic ought to be. And what great leadership looks like.

I was reminded of the Dalda and the handkerchief story once again several decades later. I was in a meeting with the managing director of a large auto ancillary company. With him was his head of Learning and Development. We sat around a little roundtable at their guesthouse. As the L&D head began the discussion, I saw the managing director get up and go into the kitchen. And he was back in a jiffy, with a cleaning cloth in his hand. He then went on to wipe the table clean. And as he saw the look of surprise on our faces, he said that when he put his diary on the table, he figured the table was dusty, and so he decided to clean it.

Now this is such a rare sight, I thought to myself. When was the last time you saw the managing director of a company actually take a mop out and clean a table—in front of a group of other people?

Think about it. He could have so easily done something else. He could have called out to the attendant, who at that stage was busy making some tea and coffee for us, and said, ‘Come, I want you to clean the table right now!’ Or he could have shouted at him for not having maintained a clean table. Or he could have complained about the world we live in and said, ‘Look, there’s so much dust around us!’ He didn’t do any of those, for he was a man who had seen a problem (which none of us had actually noticed) and then decided, ‘Hey, let me do something about it!’ He went out, got a cloth and cleaned the table.

Great leaders are like that.

It is the kind of leadership that’s becoming so rare to find in our world today. And it’s also the kind of leadership that we all need to see more of. And show more of.

The chairman did it. The managing director did it. What’s stopping you? What’s your excuse? The next time you see a problem—when you see dust on the table or on your company’s products—which nobody else has noticed, don’t leave it there. Don’t shout. Don’t ask someone to set it right. Take a cloth and clean it!

Not only will you have a clean table—and clean products—but you’ll also become a role model for others, exemplifying what great leadership looks like.

And, many years later, they will still be telling your story.

**

Read How Come No One Told Me That? to think clearly, take better decisions, learn lessons, become a better leader and a better person in life.

 

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