Page 70 – Penguin Random House India

The trappings of an unconventional life

Posted on October 27, 2020October 27, 2020 by vanyajaiswal

Saeeda Bano was the first woman in India to work as a radio newsreader, known then and still as the doyenne of Urdu broadcasting. Over her unconventional and courageous life, she walked out of a suffocating marriage, witnessed the violence of Partition, lost her son for a night in a refugee camp, ate toast with Nehru and fell in love with a married man who would, in the course of their twenty-five-year relationship, become the Mayor of Delhi. Though she was born into privilege in Bhopal-the only Indian state to be ruled by women for four successive generations-her determination, independence and frankness make this a remarkable memoir and a crucial disruption in India’s understanding of her own past.

front cover of Off the Beaten Track — Off the Beaten Track || Saeeda Bano

Why did I think of writing the story of my life? Well, the entire credit goes to my friend Sheila Dhar, whom I met during the most eventful time in the history of our country, back in September 1947. When she saw the unusual situation I was grappling with during those tumultuous days of Partition, it made a deep impact on Sheila’s impressionable mind. She was quite young at the time; I came across to her as an unconventional woman – one who had chosen to take the road less travelled.

As time went by the circumstances I was dealing with became more exceptional. Sheila was witness to all this. She was older now, mature enough to understand what was happening in my life. Perhaps that is why she encouraged me to start writing.

…

Little did I know that one day my circumstances would change so dramatically that by 1947 I would become famous as the first Indian woman to read news for All India Radio’s (AIR) Urdu service. And bless Sheila Dhar, she got me to write this book.

…

On the 13th of August I was to reach office by 6am and read the 8 o’clock bulletin in Urdu. Mrs Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit, sister of Independent India’s first Prime Minister Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, had been a frequent visitor to Lucknow. She was Beevi’s good friend and because of that I met with her quite often. She treated me like a younger sister. During one such meeting I mentioned I had sent a written application to AIR Delhi for a job. Mrs Pandit was a keen supporter of women’s rights and immediately asked me to give a copy of the application to her. ‘I will try and see what I can do.’ She then sent the letter to a certain Dr Syed Hussain in Delhi with instructions that ‘the work should be done.’ And so it was. How could Syed Hussain not honour Vijayalaxmi Pandit’s orders? That is how I came to Delhi.

I was ready to deliver my very first news bulletin on air on the 13th of August 1947. Prior to this, no woman had been employed by either the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) or AIR Delhi to work as a news broadcaster. I was the first woman AIR considered good enough to read radio news. Of course they had to train me and I was taught how to first introduce myself on air with my name and then start reading the bulletin. The quality of my voice was appreciated. The feedback I got was that listeners were quite impressed by the style in which I delivered the news. The Statesman newspaper even published a few words of praise about me. I believe some people said I must have planted this story. But that’s pure conjecture.

…

I am always grateful to the Almighty that people were eager to hear me read news on radio and appreciated my work. But I never gave this public acceptance undue importance. Hundreds of letters would pour in from various parts of the world in praise of my voice. Several gentlemen even expressed a desire to marry me! Though some of the listeners went as far as to curse me, asking that now that Pakistan had been formed why was a traitor like me still living in the enemy state? From this side of the border, some my own countrymen would write in saying, ‘Get out of our country, go to Pakistan.’

After a while, this continuous barrage of reproach ended, but hordes of letters continued to arrive regularly. I didn’t give them too much weightage nor did they get to my head. I met and mingled with everyone but I did not know how to tell witty jokes or interesting anecdotes, sing or even make delightful gossip at a social gathering.

…

We were in the midst of our discussions when Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru saw us. He came over to where we were and asked, ‘What are all of you doing? Have you had breakfast? You guys have to get here so early in the morning, you must be famished. Come over to Teen Murti House… I will give you brown bread to eat… homemade brown bread.’

Who could refuse the Prime Minister of India? We reached Teen Murti House (former residence of the first Prime Minister of India) and were made to sit in the front veranda on the top floor. Spread out in front of us were the verdant Mughal Gardens and sitting next to us, Nehruji himself. He was busy giving precise orders to the waiter to bring brown bread, cheese and God knows what. Though we were in seventh heaven my mind was preoccupied. I was worried sick and kept wondering where Asad and Saeed could be. Panditji buttered the warmly toasted brown-bread himself, then he sprinkled it lightly with salt added a dash of pepper and asked, ‘Have you ever eaten bread like this?’

‘No I haven’t,’ I replied, thanking him politely as I took the slice.

He then made another toast for me, which I ate as well. But by now I was extremely anxious. Here was the Prime Minister of our country, being hospitable and there I was worried sick with thoughts of where my children could be. Panditji saw the concern on my face and asked, ‘What is the matter? What is bothering you?’

‘My son is lost.’

‘How old is your son?’

‘Eleven.’

‘Eleven year old children do not get lost… he will come. Have your tea, it is getting cold.’

In my heart I so wished Asad and Saeed could have been with me. They would proudly remember this moment, when they ate toasted brown bread prepared by the Prime Minister of India, who made the effort of sprinkling salt and pepper on it himself before handing it around to us. These thoughts were racing through my mind as we finished breakfast. Then we took permission to leave. As we were walking out, Panditji said, ‘An 11-year old cannot get lost. You’ll find him.’

I did a courteous adab and thanked him for his reassurance. As we reached YWCA I saw Asad and Saeed sitting there waiting for me.

Celebrating the legendary R K Laxman on his birth anniversary

Posted on October 24, 2020October 25, 2020 by penguin

For many of us, opening The Times of India meant being drawn first and foremost to R.K. Laxman’s ‘You Said It’ cartoon strip in a tiny corner. In 2015, ISRO marked the success of the Mars mission by sharing the beloved cartoonist’s work ‘Common Man reaching Mars’. This was one of his last works, and he had sent them to the space agency. For a man who created ‘The Common Man’, Laxman was extraordinary, with an uncommon and unparalleled understanding of Indian life. On his birthday, catch up with some of his most wonderful works:

Brushing Up The Years: A Cartoonist’s History Of India, 1947 To The Present

This includes a collection of cartoons from one of India’s most beloved artists, R K Laxman, as he chronicles the journey of India in his illustrations with the help of his famous creation – the common man. India’s journey since its independence and several significant political, economic, and social events have been aptly captured through the imaginative eyes of Laxman.

Collected Writings

R.K. Laxman is one of India’s most gifted storytellers. The same acerbic wit and quizzical insights that characterize his cartoons are in ample evidence in his writings as well. This ominous volume contains his two novels, The Hotel Riviera and The Messenger, and The Tunnel of Time, his autobiography.

The Common Man Meets The Mantri

From financial crises to the woes of householders, from political instability to rampant corruption, Laxman’s cartoons capture the entire gamut of contemporary Indian experience.

The Common Man Balances His Budget

Hilarious and thought-provoking at the same time, this is a treasure house of humour from one of the most striking voices commenting on Indian socio-political life.

The Common Man Stands In Queue

According to Time magazine, the common man is ‘a witness to everything: scheming politicians, rapacious bureaucrats and gossiping housewives. What’s common about this character is that like most Indians, he sees his country being forced through endless indignities by its leaders and yet doesn’t even whimper in protest.’

The Common Man at Home

The fourth volume in the series The Best of Laxman, ‘The Common Man at Home’ is a funny and incisive glimpse into quintessential Indian life.

The Common Man Goes To The Village

A collection of gems from India’s best-loved cartoonist as he explores Indian life with sharpness and humour.

The Common Man Watches Cricket

From financial crises to the woes of householders, from political instability to rampant corruption, Laxman’s cartoons capture the entire gamut of contemporary Indian experience.

The Common Man Takes a Stroll

The seventh volume in the series The Best of Laxman is another solid dose of Laxman’s sharp humour which drills into the Indian social temperament.

The Common Man Tackles Corruption

Another wonderfully insightful work by Laxman, exploring the idiosyncrasies of ordinary life in this country.

The Common Man Seeks Justice

Laxman’s frazzled character, known as the Common Man, confronts India’s daily navigations with a kind of wry resignation.

The Common Man At Large

R.K. Laxman’s humour never fails, and his most beloved creation, the Common Man once again serves as a microscope through which Laxman studies and maps Indian society.

Common Man Casts His Vote

Laxman’s Common Man takes on the political scenario, packed with wit, a humorous scrutiny, and a funny exposition on life in general.

The Distorted Mirror

The Distorted Mirror brings together some of Laxman’s best short stories, essays and travelogues. The collection begins with ‘An Accident’, a most unusual mystery story where the murder weapon is a newspaper.

A Dose of Laughter

Laughter, they say, is the best medicine. A Dose of Laughter is an exhilarating collection of cartoons and jokes about doctors and their practices that will bring a smile to the lips of those who wield the stethoscope as well as those who yield to it.

Servants of India

In Servants of India, R.K. Laxman profiles ten hilariously idiosyncratic people, who are among the countless men and women who run the lives of the middle class in India. The tales are put together by Ganesh, a freelance journalist trying to write a feature article on servants he has known. As his chronicle progresses, what emerges is a richly embellished narrative starring unforgettable characters.

A Vote for Laughter

A Vote for Laughter contains a hundred of R.K. Laxman’s classic Common Man cartoons that have to do with a range of political subjects, from party meetings, election campaigns and VVIP movements to cabinet reshuffles, horse trading and foreign tours, not to forget the activity that for Laxman defines the Indian politician: the impulse to rush to the well of the House.

***

R.K. Laxman is a national treasure, and has provided a soothing antidote to the expected daily devastation carried by ‘front-page news’.

Worlds apart but together with love

Posted on October 23, 2020October 28, 2020 by sanjeeta

‘We are full of stories’, writes Ravinder Singh as he opens up his collection of love stories from vastly different lives. Stories create empathy, they open up the seams of our capacity for wonder and compassion, and broaden our understanding of the vagaries of human lives. In You Are All I Need, twenty-five authors share their stories and their worlds with us. Today, we bring you a few of those:

‘Something in the Rain’ by Kaustubhi Singh

I take a little walk in my cubicle for one last time because I’ll be given a clearance today. I sit on the brown wooden chair I used to kick when I was so miserable that the doctors had to tie my hands up. Alcohol was my escape. The idea of alcohol was not pleasure but an escape, because when that warm liquor burns your throat, it starts dissolving the hurt stuck down there and slowly numbs you so you don’t feel the hurt. Heartbreak isn’t beautiful; it isn’t some literature; it’s not listening to sad songs or something like that. It’s feeling okay for a minute and then starting to feel their ghost around you, their touch on your skin. You miss them, you miss them so much that you choke on your memories with them.

Dr Mayank Sharma, my shrink, almost my age, tells me that it will always hurt, and it will make one cry and scream till one’s nose is blocked and eyes puffy; that hurt is inevitable but it will hurt less, and I will see and understand why someone did what they did. And I think I understand. When I look back to the day Robbie left me for another woman, he said he had grown out of love and I stood there thinking: Where did I go wrong? But thinking about it now makes me realize I did everything to truly belong to Robbie. I changed myself for him, I changed my ways and choices for him when I should have let him love me for who I was, because that’s what love is, that’s what love is supposed to be—loving someone for who they are.

‘A Tender Ray of Love’ by Nandita Warrier

She was six; he was eight. He found her irritating and called her a ‘complaint box’; she found him obnoxious and called him a ‘monster’. They fought in every get-together.

…She was twelve; he was fourteen. He secretly detested her scholarly attitude; she was swept by his charm and wrote about him in her secret diary.

…She was eighteen; he was twenty. She aspired to be a doctor; he was determined to be one of the ‘Men in Blue’.

Their paths were growing apart, just like their personalities. They rarely met, and when they did, she was more awkward than before. He didn’t seem interested in her and she was torn whether or not to share her feelings with him.

And then something happened. He did something terrible—unforgivable! She had held him in such high regard all along, loved him with all her heart, but he had treated her like trash. She was shattered.

…She was twenty-seven; he was twenty-nine. She was a bright, young surgeon winning people over; he was a lost and bitter soul, spewing venom at everyone.

She was twenty-eight; he was thirty. She was full of dreams; he was broken.

Front cover of You Are All I Need — You Are All I Need||Ravinder Singh

That night, she slept early because she had a morning duty in the ICU. That night, he slept late after emptying a bottle of sleeping pills.

Just as Ramya reached the hospital, she was summoned to the OT for an emergency procedure. ‘Suicide attempt,’ someone whispered. Dr Iyer was instructing the team when Ramya joined them in her OT scrubs. She threw a casual look at the patient and immediately recoiled. It was Rohan! Oh no, how could this be? Memories from her childhood, locked away in some corner, defiantly barged in, making her want to sob.

He looked so pale and pitiable—a mere shadow of the handsome young man she remembered from their last meeting years back! Rohan had had everything going for him—what could have possibly gone so wrong? Sensing her discomfort, Dr Iyer enquired, ‘You know him?’

‘Family friend,’ she uttered nonchalantly, hiding the wave of sadness sweeping over her.

‘Love in the Times of Marriage’ by Aparajita Shishoo

When Adil saw her across the room, his heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t take his eyes off Meera’s radiant face. He decided to walk up to her.

‘Hi,’ Adil said.

Meera was standing alone, enjoying the party her friend, Kanika, had thrown. Meera turned to look at Adil and smiled back at him with a soft ‘hi’.

Adil continued, ‘You seem to be the arty-farty type. What are you doing at a filmy party?’

Meera was a bit tipsy by that time, so she retorted, ‘I am definitely farty, but with some arty. What about you?’

Adil laughed out loud at her candour and asked her again what she was doing at such a party.

‘I am fishing for some juicy stories for my publication. You?’

‘I am trying to make some juicy stories!’ Adil winked at Meera.

Meera laughed and asked, ‘Are you flirting with me?’ ‘Are you noticing?’ Adil said.
Meera shot back, ‘I am ignoring . . . I don’t flirt with boys who have just entered puberty.’
‘Oh! That hurt . . . really hurt!’ Adil said, imitating a heartbreak. ‘By the way, I am twenty-five, well beyond my puberty years.’

Meera laughed again at Adil’s dramatics, and they continued their conversation.

Adil was a cinematographer in the Hindi film industry and the camera was his first love, but right now his own lenses were fixed on Meera’s face. ‘So what brings you to Mumbai?’

‘Change,’ said Meera, after a pause.

…At the other end of the room, Kanika noticed the chemistry between the two and was happy that her friend was finally enjoying flirting and chatting up guys.

Lose yourself in stories that will stay with you for a long, long time.

Transformative life lessons on trusting ourselves

Posted on October 22, 2020October 23, 2020 by swara

Soulful and uproarious, forceful and tender, Untamed is both an intimate memoir and a galvanizing wake-up call on trusting ourselves.

For many years, Glennon Doyle denied her own discontent. Then, while speaking at a conference, she looked at a woman across the room and fell instantly in love. Three words flooded her mind: There She Is. This was her own voice—the one she had buried beneath decades of numbing addictions, cultural conditioning, and institutional allegiances. Glennon decided to quit abandoning herself and to instead abandon the world’s expectations of her. She quit being good so she could be free. She quit pleasing and started living.

Read on for six life-changing lessons we learnt from Untamed, on finding ourselves, honouring our anger and heartbreak, and unleashing our truest, wildest instincts.

Embrace sensitivity as an emblem of bravery, as it takes courage to sense and to stand by that response amidst dismissal.

The opposite of sensitive is not brave. It’s not brave to refuse to pay attention, to refuse to notice, to refuse to feel and know and imagine. The opposite of sensitive is insensitive, and that’s no badge of honor…The culture depends on the sensitivity of a few, because nothing can be healed if it’s not sensed first.

Never undermine or under-value the validity of your own desires, feelings and ambitions.

I was wild until I was tamed by shame. Until I started hiding and numbing my feelings for fear of being too much. Until I started deferring to others’ advice instead of trusting my own intuition. Until I became convinced that my imagination was ridiculous and my desires were selfish. Until I surrendered myself to the cages of others’ expectations, cultural mandates, and institutional allegiances.

Pain and the feeling of sorrow are not meant to be avoided, it is meant to be felt-for resurrection and evolution.

I can use pain to become. I am here to keep becoming truer, more beautiful versions of myself again and again forever. To be alive is to be in a perpetual state of revolution. Whether I like it or not, pain is the fuel of revolution. Everything I need to become the woman I’m meant to be next is inside my feelings of now.

Be still and know. When you block out the distractions, and reach within yourself, you find the answers, the meaning already there waiting to be trusted.

It’s my daily reminder that, if I am willing to sit in the stillness with myself, I always know what to do. That the answers are never out there. They are as close as my breath and as steady as my heartbeat. All I have to do is stop flailing, sink below the surface, and feel for the nudge and the gold. Then I have to t rust it, no matter how illogical or scary the next right thing seems.

Untamed Front Cover — Untamed || Glennon Doyle

Don’t be afraid to ‘destroy’ your life, because it’s only then that you can begin anew, to rise like as phoenix from the ashes of destruction.

Destruction is essential to construction. If we want to build the new, we must be willing to let the old burn. We must be committed to holding on to nothing but the truth. We must decide that if the truth inside us can burn a belief, a family structure, a business, a religion, an industry— it should have become ashes yesterday.

Sometimes the best way to reclaim your life is to simply cede the need to control, to restrain, yourself

I quit spending my life trying to control myself and began to trust myself. We only control what we don’t trust. We can either control ourselves or love ourselves, but we can’t do both. Love is the opposite of control. Love demands trust.

Extracts from Untamed by Glennon Doyle (2020)

Tales as old as time: Mythological reads for you!

Posted on October 21, 2020October 22, 2020 by swara

This month, we have been revisiting tales as old as time from the immersive world of Indian mythology and our favourite epics!

Scroll down to have a look at our reading list and join us on this journey!

The Aryavarta Chronicles

Govinda: The Aryavarta Chronicles Book 1

Front cover of Govinda — Govinda || Krishna Udayasankar

For generations, the Firstborn dynasty of scholar-sages, descendants of Vasishta Varuni and protectors of the Divine Order on earth, has dominated here. For just as long, the Angirasa family of Firewrights, weapon-makers to the kings and master inventors, has defied them. In the aftermath of the centuries-long conflict between the two orders, the once-united empire of Aryavarta lies splintered, a shadow of its former glorious self.

Kaurava: The Aryavarta Chronicles Book 2

Front cover of Kaurava — Kaurava || Krishna Udayasankar

Emperor Dharma Yudhisthir of the Kauravas and Empress Panchali Draupadi rule over a unified Aryavarta, an empire built for them by Govinda Shauri with the blessings of the Firstborn and by the might of those whom everyone believes long gone – the Firewrights.

Now the Firewrights rise from the ashes of the past, divided as before in purpose and allegiance, and no one,

His every dream shattered, Govinda is left a broken man. The only way he can protect Aryavarta and the woman in whose trusted hands he had left it is by playing a dangerous game. But can he bring himself to reveal the terrible secrets that the Vyasa has guarded all his life – secrets that may well destroy the Firstborn, and the Firewrights with them?

Kurukshetra: The Aryavarta Chronicles Book 3

Front cover of Kurukshetra — Kurukshetra || Krishna Udayasankar

The empire that was Aryavarta fades under the shadow of doom. As the bitter struggle to gain control of the divided kingdom ensues, both Krishna Dwaipayana Vyasa of the Firstborn and the Secret Keeper of the Firewrights can only watch as their own blood, their kin, savage and kill on the fields of Kurukshetra. Restraint and reason have deserted the rulers who once protected the land and they manipulate, scheme and kill with abandon – for victory is all that matters.

Reforging the forsaken realm in the fire of his apocalyptic wrath, Govinda prepares to destroy everything he loves and make the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of one last hope: that humanity will rise.

Vanara: The Legend of Baali, Sugreeva and Tara

Front cover of Vanara — Vanara || Anand Neelakantan

Baali and Sugreeva of the Vana Nara tribe were orphan brothers who were born in abject poverty and grew up as slaves like most of their fellow tribesmen. They were often mocked as the vanaras, the monkey men. Sandwiched between the never-ending war between the Deva tribes in the north and the Asura tribes in the south, the Vana Naras seemed to have lost all hope. But Baali was determined not to die a slave. Aided by his beloved brother, Sugreeva, Baali built a country for his people.

The love triangle between Baali, Tara and Sugreeva is arguably the world’s first.

Vanara is a classic tale of love, lust and betrayal. Shakespearean in its tragic depth and epic in its sweep, Vanara gives voice to the greatest warrior in the Ramayana-Baali.

The Mahabharata (Box Set)

The greatest Indian story ever told of a war between two factions of a family, The Mahabharata has continued to sway the imagination of its readers over the past centuries.

While the dispute over land and kingdom between the warring cousins-the Pandavas and the Kauravas-forms the chief narrative, the primary concern of The Mahabharata is about the conflict of dharma. These conflicts are immense and various, singular and commonplace.

The complete and unabridged Sanskrit classic, now masterfully and accessibly rendered for contemporary readers by Bibek Debroy.

Ramayana, Mahabharata, Bhagvata: Illustrated Retellings of the Greatest Indian Epics Box Set

Jaya: An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata

Front cover of Jaya by Devdutt Pattanaik — Jaya || Devdutt Pattanaik

High above the sky stands Swarga, paradise, abode of the gods. Still above is Vaikuntha, heaven, abode of God.

The doorkeepers of Vaikuntha are the twins, Jaya and Vijaya, both whose names mean ‘victory’. One keeps you in Swarga; the other raises you into Vaikuntha. In Vaikuntha there is bliss forever, in Swarga there is pleasure for only as long as you deserve.

What is the difference between Jaya and Vijaya? Solve this puzzle and you will solve the mystery of the Mahabharata.

Sita: An Illustrated Retelling of the Ramayana

Front cover of Sita by Devdutt Pattanaik — Sita || Devdutt Pattanaik

It is significant that the only character in Hindu mythology, a king at that, to be given the title of ekam-patni-vrata, devoted to a single wife, is associated with the most unjust act of abandoning her in the forest to protect family reputation.

This book approaches Ram by speculating on Sita—her childhood with her father, Janak, who hosted sages mentioned in the Upanishads; her stay in the forest with her husband who had to be a celibate ascetic while she was in the prime of her youth; her interactions with the women of Lanka, recipes she exchanged, emotions they shared; her connection with the earth, her mother; her role as the Goddess, the untamed Kali as well as the demure Gauri, in transforming the stoic prince of Ayodhya into God.

Shyam: An Illustrated Retelling of the Bhagavata

Front cover of Shyam by Devdutt Pattanaik — Shyam || Devdutt Pattanaik

The Bhagavata is the story of Krishna, known as Shyam to those who find beauty, wisdom and love in his dark complexion. It is the third great Hindu epic after the Mahabharata and the Ramayana.

This book seamlessly weaves the story from Krishna’s birth to his death, or rather from his descent to the butter-smeared world of happy women to his ascent from the blood-soaked world of angry men.

Myth = Mithya

In this groundbreaking book Dr Devdutt Pattanaik; one of India’s most popular mythologists; seeks an answer to these apparent paradoxes and unravels an inherited truth about life and death; nature and culture; perfection and possibility. He retells sacred Hindu stories and decodes Hindu symbols and rituals; using a unique style of commentary; illustrations and diagrams. We discover why the villainous Kauravas went to heaven and the virtuous Pandavas (all except Yudhishtira) were sent to hell; why Rama despite abandoning the innocent Sita remains the model king; why the blood-drinking Kali is another form of the milk-giving Gauri; and why Shiva wrenched off the fifth head of Brahma.

—

The comfort of a bunker

Posted on October 21, 2020October 25, 2020 by vanyajaiswal

A retired General is haunted by voices of dead men.
Soldiers from two enemy nations manning posts in freezing Siachen form a strange connection.
A young Lieutenant dying in the jungles of Arunachal is watched over by three men, one of whom would have his destiny changed forever.
What is the dark secret held by a Major and his men operating incognito in Kashmir?
What surprise is a train bound for Agra bringing to the all-male bastion of 13 Para?
Who are the invisible people a little girl awaiting brain surgery in the Lansdowne Military Hospital talks to?

From the bestselling author of The Brave, 1965 and Kargil comes a book that will take you into the olive-green world of army cantonments, through stories that will delight and disturb in equal measure.

Here’s an excerpt from this perceptive collection of army stories.

One morning, Satyapal told Javed that he would not be on guard duty the next day. He and Rifleman Ramesh had been detailed for a routine check of communication lines. Every ten days, three soldiers were sent to check the wires that kept the telephone connection, between the post and the company headquarters about two kilometres away, running. The post and the HQ each had the responsibility to maintain 1 km of the communication line—to ensure the wires were intact and working, not broken or buried in the snow. Since their very lives depended on it, the soldiers carried out the task with complete sincerity.

The empty jerry cans that had been used to cart kerosene to the post were put to good use here. They were filled with snow, which would quickly freeze into hard ice. The heavy jerry cans were then used as support for the telephone lines, which were tied on top of them, so that the wires would not get buried after heavy snowfall.

‘We plan to leave by 8 a.m. and return before noon,’ Satyapal told Javed, who nodded. Every soldier on Siachen knew that the weather usually turned late afternoon, so all activities were planned in such a way that the soldiers would be back in their bunkers by lunchtime.

Javed had received a letter, brought by a new soldier reporting on duty from leave. His daughter was unwell, he told Satyapal. ‘I can’t do anything for them from here. I feel so helpless,’ he said. He sounded sad that morning.

‘Don’t worry, saathi, she will be fine. Children keep falling sick all the time,’ Satyapal consoled him. Soon after, Satyapal told Javed he would now see him after a day.

‘Khuda hafiz, saathi,’ Javed called out to him. ‘Apna khayal rakhna.’

‘You too, Javed Bhai. And don’t worry so much about your daughter. I am sure she is absolutely fine by now,’ Satyapal reassured him and, with a casual wave of his hand, stepped inside his bunker.

The next afternoon, a sudden avalanche took the soldiers by surprise. Icy winds screamed outside their huts, as they huddled together inside their bunkers, drawing comfort from each other’s presence and from the warmth of the kerosene stove.

Around 2 p.m., Javed was in his sleeping bag, rereading his wife’s letter. Omar, the designated cook for the week, was cooking rice to go with the meat tins they planned to open for lunch. Their four other soldier comrades were playing cards, and radio operator Rifleman Faizal Sharief, quiet and withdrawn by temperament, was, as always, sitting in a corner by himself, listening to Skardu Radio. ‘Do Hindustani sipahi Siachen Glacier ki Rana Post mein baraf ke neeche zinda dafan,’ the newsreader was saying. None of the soldiers was paying attention to the news but the moment they heard Siachen mentioned they all started listening.

‘Aawaaz unchi kar, Faizal,’ Javed called out, placing the letter under his pillow.

The woman reading the news in her crisp Urdu was not giving many details, but she clearly stated that three Indian soldiers had been caught in an avalanche that afternoon. While one had been found, two were reported missing, presumed buried in the snowpack created by the avalanche.

For a moment there was abject silence in the bunker. Then, one of the card players spoke: ‘So we have two less enemy soldiers to fight. The glacier got to the bastards before we did. Achhi khabar hai. Miyan, tum patte baanto.’

The four of them chuckled loudly and got back to their game. They did not notice the disquiet that shadowed Javed’s face, but Faizal was watching him thoughtfully. ‘Apne niche wali post ke bande lagte hain,’ he said to Javed. ‘Isn’t that Rana Post? Javed bhai aap toh baat karte ho na unmein se ek se?’ Faizal sounded concerned. Javed just nodded.

Javed remembered that Satyapal had to go and check the communication lines that day and desperately hoped that he was not among the men missing.

Get to know your author – A factual glimpse into Bilal Siddiqi

Posted on October 21, 2020October 22, 2020 by sanjeeta

Bilal Siddiqi, a shining star among the young authors has authored four novels. His fifth – The Phoenix – is an exciting new release, hot off the press and will transport you into a world of secret missions, uncertain loyalties and retribution.

Siddiqi is a fan of the world of espionage and thrillers. His novel The Bard of Blood has been adapted into a Netflix series.

Upon the release of his new book, we bring you some fascinating facts about the dazzling author who has brought us one nail-biter after another.

1. His first novel was called The Bard of Blood, which he wrote he was 19 years old. It was published when he was 20.

2. It wasn’t only James Bond, Robert Ludlum and Fredrick Forsyth that drew him to the genre of the spy thriller. His interest in studying the patterns of religious conflict and the roots of extremism drove him to write The Bard of Blood

3. He is an avid reader, and loves fiction.

4. Not only did Bollywood actor Emraan Hashmi star in the Netflix adaptation of The Bard of Blood but he also co-authored The Kiss of Life with Siddiqi (bet you didn’t know this one!)

5. Siddiqi enjoyed reading Shakespeare in college.

6. The first and only advance copy that Penguin India gave Siddiqi was presented to him by Shah Rukh Khan.

7. Siddiqi is not bound by genre. He likes to write in different styles. The Bard of Blood was a spy thriller, The Kiss of Life a biography, The Stardust Affair a romantic thriller, and The Pheonix is a fast-paced thriller.

8. He considers author Hussain Zaidi his mentor. He started working with Zaidi after Zaidi had asked for 10 volunteers to help him with research for his novel Mumbai Avengers in 2014. Siddiqi was shortlisted.

Siddiqi says he started writing his novel but getting published was not his goal. He was writing for himself, so that years later, he would have something to look back upon as a piece of himself from the past. Well, he did get published. And the rest is history.

[The Phoenix is out now. Get your copy today!]

Epic tales for the young readers!

Posted on October 21, 2020October 21, 2020 by swara

From fierce women warriors to never-told-before stories behind your greatest epics, we are bringing to you some eternal tales to introduce the next generation of readers to!

Scroll down for stories of EPIC proportions!

The Puffin Mahabharata
by Namita Gokhale

The Puffin Mahabharata Front Cover — The Puffin Mahabharata || Namita Gokhale (Author), Suddhasattwa Basu (Illustrator)

‘A long, long time ago, in the ancient lands of India, known in those days as Bharatvarsha, a family quarrel grew into a bloody war. There had been wars before, and there have been wars since, but that mighty battle between warring cousins of the Kuru clan has become a part of the mythology and history of India. 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.

The Serpent’s Revenge: Unusual Tales from the Mahabharata
by Sudha Murty

How many names does Arjuna have?
Why was Yama cursed?
What lesson did a little mongoose teach Yudhisthira?

Award-winning author Sudha Murty reintroduces the fascinating world of India’s greatest epic through the extraordinary tales in this collection, each of which is sure to fill you with a sense of wonder and bewilderment.

The Man from the Egg: Unusual Tales about the Trinity
by Sudha Murty

The Man from the Egg Front Cover — The Man from the Egg || Sudha Murty

Did you know that Brahma once had five faces?
Why do snakes have a forked tongue?
Do gods cheat?
Why does Shiva sport a crescent moon on his head?

Sudha Murty walks by your side, weaving enchanting tales of the three most powerful gods from the ancient world. Each story will take you back to a magical time when people could teleport, animals could fly and reincarnation was simply a fact of life.

Two-Epics-in-One (The Girl Who Chose and The Boys Who Fought)
by Devdutt Pattanaik

Two-Epics-in-One Flipbook Cover — Two-Epics-in-One || Devdutt Pattanaik

What were Sita’s choices?
What was the outcome of the fight of the five brothers against a hundred princes?
A tale told two thousand years ago, of Ram and Ravan-the sun-prince of Ayodhya who follows the family rules and the king of Lanka who had little respect for others’ choices-is one that has been reinterpreted in myriads of ways, exalting the virtues of the princes. Few notice, however, that the story is actually lead by the girl who chose, Sita.

The other is the tale of the five Pandavas and their cousins, the hundred Kauravas, who threw out the family morals. Instead of taking care of their five orphaned cousins, the princes burnt their house, abused their wife and stole their kingdom. This is the saga of the boys who fought not for revenge but for dharma.

The country’s favourite mythologist, Devdutt Pattanaik, empowers and entertains with a double bill of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata for a whole new generation of readers!

The Daughter from a Wishing Tree: Unusual Tales about Women in Mythology
by Sudha Murty

The Daughter from a Wishing Tree front cover — The Daughter from a Wishing Tree || Sudha Murty

Did you know that the Trinity often turned to goddesses to defeat the asuras?
Did you know that the first clone in the world was created by a woman?

The women in Indian mythology might be fewer in number, but their stories of strength and mystery in the pages of ancient texts and epics are many. They slayed demons and protected their devotees fiercely. From Parvati to Ashokasundari and from Bhamati to Mandodari, this collection features enchanting and fearless women who frequently led wars on behalf of the gods, were the backbone of their families and makers of their own destinies.

The Upside-Down King: Unusual Tales about Rama and Krishna
by Sudha Murty

The Upside Down King front cover — The Upside Down King || Sudha Murty

Did you know there was a time when bears spoke, the moon laughed and babies were found inside fish?
Have you heard of the two-horned sage who had never seen a woman in his life?
Did you know Ravana’s half-brother was the god of wealth?
Have you ever seen a man with a thousand arms?

The tales in this collection surround the two most popular avatars of Lord Vishnu-Rama and Krishna-and their lineage. Countless stories about the two abound, yet most are simply disappearing from the hearts and minds of the present generation.

—

An incredible history of Sanjeev Sanyal

Posted on October 20, 2020 by swara

Now that we know that Phoenicians probably sailed around the Cape of Good Hope 2000 years before Vasco da Gama, we’re here to find out more about the man who gave us that amazing fact and others like them! Get to know writer Sanjeev Sanyal a little better.

—

1) He was one of the first Indians to get a paragliding pilot license. He was part of the first batch of Indians in 1990 to earn a pilot’s license after undergoing training in Himachal Pradesh. Since there was no Indian certification body at that time, the license was given by the British Association of Paragliding Clubs.

2) He also has an Instructor grade certification for kayaking and canoeing from way back in 1991. He was one of the earliest certified instructors of the Indian Kayaking and Canoeing Association.

3) He is a martial arts black belt (Taekwondo) which he earned in 2008.

4) He is currently researching a book on the contributions of armed Revolutionaries in India’s freedom struggle

5) He collects old maps of India, Indian cities and of the Indian Ocean.

—

Sanjeev Sanyal has given us a fascinating maritime history of the Indian Ocean, with the most beautiful illustrations.

The Incredible History of the Indian Ocean || Sanjeev Sanyal

First love, first heartbreak and a slice of life

Posted on October 20, 2020 by vidhi

Love, heartbreak, family complications and the nuances of relationships – Jennifer Niven tackles it all with her captivating prose. Through reminiscence or present lived reality, Breathless resonates with us all. Relive your own special moments with an excerpt:

—

I stand for a long time, staring out over the water, black and endless except for the glow of lights in the far distance. And this, I know, is the mainland. It might as well be light-years away.

I wait for a boat to appear. I wait for Miah to come.
I wait.
I wait.

Suddenly, I don’t feel the rain on my skin or my hair or my clothes because the only thing I feel is the ache in my heart. An ache like I’ve never felt before. It’s both terrible and beautiful. And it fills me. It fills me.

We were supposed to have more time.

We’re always supposed to have more time.

I sink onto the bench, which is damp and which leaves me damper. At some point the rain stops completely. I look up and the stars overhead are a carpet of light. There’s this feeling I have here. Miah’s a part of it. But he’s not all of it. It’s the summers of childhood when I was eight, ten, twelve. And those kinds of beautiful moments where everything is full of love and light and possibility.

I rest one hand on the wood of the seat and my fingers bump into something cool and smooth. I look down. A shark tooth. The largest one I’ve ever seen. And there, drawn around it, a circle.

***

I turn back up the path and walk toward the inn, shark tooth in my pocket. Through the trees, the porch lights shine like beacons, like lanterns illuminating the way to the world beyond. I go up the steps, feet splashing in the little dips inthe wood. I slip on my shoes, brush the hair off my face, but otherwise I don’t bother. This is me, take it or leave it—wet and rumpled and missing Miah.

“Claude?” Mom’s voice calls out to me from the end of the porch. She is perched on the edge of the swing, as if she’s been watching for me. I walk over and sit down beside her, a lump in my throat as large as the ocean.

“Everything okay?” she says. And she knows. I can see it in her face.

Breathless Front Cover by Jennifer Niven — Breathless || Jennifer Niven

“It will be.” But my heart doesn’t believe it.

She takes my hand, and the swing rocks back and forth, back and forth, as we listen to the rain.

At 9:53, I feel it. The island is emptier because he’s no longer on it.

I don’t want to go home yet, so I head to the beach, not caring if I run into alligators or snakes or wild hogs. Under the trees, over the dunes, onto the sand, until I’m beneath the moon and all this sky. I’m too restless to sit. I drop my bag and kick off my shoes and walk. The tide rolls in like thunder and I’m the only one here.

I walk for at least a mile. I’m trying not to look at the lights in the distance, the ones that are the neighboring islands. Because beyond those islands is the mainland, and on that mainland is Jeremiah Crew, who didn’t say goodbye.

***

Breathless is a beautiful celebration of the joys and pangs of stepping into adulthood, and moments that are uniquely memorable to us all.

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