The Documents in the Case

The Documents in the Case by Dorothy L. Sayers

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
The plot of this book is so smart that it actually figured as a problem in one of my organic chemistry textbooks in college! One of those musty dusty tomes but still!!!



The brilliance of the science aside, it is truly an excellent book! Dorothy Sayers is a master at creating three dimensional characters that live and breathe. The book is written in an epistolary format and most incidents come across from two or more points of view, each so consistent and complete by itself that that alone would be reason enough to read this book. How does she get the characters, their voice, what they say and think and feel so right every time?



You can see what's coming from the start of course but that will in no way impair your enjoyment of the book, at least not unless you are looking for nothing more or less than a whodunit. Like all of Dorothy Sayers' novels, this is a book that does not see why it shouldn't be a 'real book' (in Lord Peter Wimsey's words) just because it is a mystery novel.

Great read.


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Almost Single

Almost Single by Advaita Kala

My review

rating: 2 of 5 stars
It's a book about a single woman in the city. She hangs out with her friends - one beautiful but married to a jerk, another gay, another single with lots of bright ideas on how not to be single. She spends a lot of her time getting drunk, smokes a lot of cigarettes and struggles with her weight. And her name is not Bridget Jones!!!



Hard to take this book seriously. It's bridget minus the charm and the humour. Aisha Bhatia is not particularly likable. Karan whatsisname similarly so. I haven't lived in Delhi for sometime now but I find it hard to digest that people like Nic and Ric do.



It finds some soul towards the end but too little too late. I'd rather read Zoya again.


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the zoya factor

The Zoya Factor by Anuja Chauhan

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
The best thing about Zoya is that it is not just 'an english book by an indian' if you know what I mean. There is so much more story and people and India than in the 'I'm Indian, I live abroad, I'm confused' kind of book there has been so much of in the recent past.



Zoya is peopled with characters that are as believable as they are likable. Zoravar, Eppa, Rinku Chachi, Vishal, Monita even Sanks are people you would have or at least easily could have met somewhere.



It is laugh out loud funny in many places. I especially liked the crickindya website comments section. Anuja Chauhan certainly has an ear for dialogue!



Other pluses: Nikhil's a dish and the mushy stuff doesn't make you cringe (well mostly). The romantic is nicely tempered by the ridiculous. Big bonus - people from Delhi especially of Karol Bagh origin will LOVE how VERY Delhi this book is!



Only grouse... it is way too long! Better editing would have made such a difference.

With no literary pretensions whatsoever, Zoya is light weekend reading at its best.


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More thoughts on Road Widening

I really did not want to post on this topic after last time's post which I thought said most of what I had to say, but I'm back. Here's why.

With the new govt. firmly in the saddle, orders are out to finish all road widening in the coming six months. One gone five to go. That's how long our trees have, folks! Already in Koramangala we are seeing huge, stately old trees being mercilessly butchered to make way for wider roads. Worse than that, people like it! People you would expect to think differently! But lets not talk of that.

Not even talking now about the 40000 people on Avenue road (that has the misfortune of being in the way of a proposed six lane highway) who are going to lose their livelihoods for a road.

Nor am I talking of the eighteen villagers who died trying to cross the 30 kilometer road to the aiport that has only 4 traffic lights and no pedestrian underpasses. Over bridges cannot be constructed on a national highway as per NHAI rules. So the villagers must risk their lives daily so we can make that flight on time. Not talking about that though.

What I am talking about is the rising incidence of asthma and bronchitis among children. In the last 15 years, the percentage of kids with bronchitis and asthma has gone up from 8 to a whopping 40%! The incidence is higher among kids living in areas with less trees and greater vehicular population.

The writing's on the wall.

We may not care about trees. We may not care about about poor shopkeepers losing their source of income. We might not spare a thought to the poor villager by the side of the road.
But have we really fallen to such a moral abyss that we don't care about our children? Is our convenience on the road so important that we don't see that of the four kids out of every ten that can't go out to play because they have bronchitis, one could be ours?

I always thought with parents it was different. That it had to be personal. But in a world where a parent does not care for a child, the human race must be considered past redemption.

Trivia for a change!

Zenda Zembla Xanadu
All your dream worlds may come true
Fairy lands are fearsome too
As I wander far from view
Read and bring me home to you.


No ordinary rhyme that. What do the above lines signify?

It is an acrostic. Put together the first letter of every line and it spells ZAFAR!

Zafar is the name of Salman Rushdie's son. When he went into hiding after the Fatwa, he wrote Haroun and the Sea of Stories - A tale starring a storyteller father and his young son. A fairy tale about freedom of speech and the importance of imagination :)

The above lines are the dedication that appear at the beginning of the book.

Mother of the Trees (Concluded)

After the wide road was built, the king had another idea. Having gone to all this expense to build this road into the forest, why let it lead only to the palace? Everyone in the kingdom should be able to enjoy the forest, felt he. And so he built a huge bazaar by the road.

Little by little, the forest began to change. The prince was very unhappy, as were all the children, and many of the grown ups. This was no longer the magical place they had stumbled onto. You could hardly hear the chirping of the birds over the raucous yells of the bazaar merchants. You could no longer smell the flowers.

Dejected, the prince walked into the heart of the forest where things were yet somewhat unchanged. Here was a very big and very old mango tree (yes, the same one you are thinking of!). It had always been a favorite of the prince's. It gave the most shade. It promised the sweetest fruit. Even in his low spirits, the tree would be able to cheer him up somewhat.

He sank onto the grass under the tree. 'What have I done', he muttered to himself. 'If I had but known what this would lead to, I would never have shown this place to anyone.'

'Don't worry', said a voice from somewhere near. 'It is not your fault.'
The prince started and sprang up. 'Who is it?' he asked. 'Show yourself!' He could have sworn there had been no one there, but suddenly the bushes moved, and there stood before him a tiny, wizened old lady. She smiled at him.

'Who are you?' he asked. 'I've never seen you here before.'

'They call me the Mother of the Trees', she said. 'What my name is, I could hardly tell you', she smiled. 'I forgot it myself so long ago.'

'Why did you ask me not to worry?' asked the Prince. 'What do you know about me and my worries?'

'I know', said the old lady, 'that you love this forest. And all this change upsets you. But when you get to my age, you will know that change is natural and will always happen. Mostly you have to accept it.'

'But my father! And his constant tree cutting! Is that natural? The animals and birds are losing their homes. They have no more fruit to eat. The air is no longer clean. Is this good?'

'A wise man once said that this earth has enough for every man's need, but not for every man's greed. Don't worry about your father.' She smiled and left as quietly as she had come.

The prince walked back slowly to the palace.

There he found the whole place in an uproar. 'The forest has vanished!', yelled the King and his courtiers. 'It is right here!' said the Prince in some surprise! 'What's wrong?'

'It's gone!' said the king. 'Vanished! The forest is bewitched! Let us leave at once, before some further harm befalls us!' And the king and all his courtiers took to their heels and ran!

In some confusion, the Prince turned to a small page boy who was still standing in the now nearly empty palace. 'Is it just me or is the forest still right where it always was?'
'It is, sir', whispered the boy. 'I see it too. But perhaps it is a good thing after all that they can't.'

Well, perhaps it was! But one thing was for sure. From that day to this the forest has remained hidden. It shows itself from time to time. But only to whose it counts a friend.

THE END.


With much admiration for Saalumarada Thimakka and the Narnia stories.

The Fable of the Mother of the Trees (contd.)

The Mother of the Trees spent the next many years planting and taking care of her trees. When there was less water, she carried water on her head from the next village many miles away. When her husband did not make enough money of a month, she cut branches from the trees and planted them in the ground.

And everywhere new life bloomed. Slowly, what had once been a barren wasteland became a beautiful forest! And miracle of miracles! Birds, bees, butterflies, animals all flocked to their new home! And the trees heavy with fruit (even after the animals had eaten their fill) eased their tired limbs by dropping the fruit on the ground. And from them yet more trees were born. Things could not have been better.

But one day, the man, who had by now become a very old man, went to sleep and died. The mother of the trees no longer felt like being with anyone but her children, and she went into the heart of the forest. The forest closed in on her and everyone forgot all about the trees and the story of the birth of the forest.

Many years passed.

Then one day when the prince was out hunting, he came upon these untouched woods. As he entered, a calm descended on him. All he could hear was the sound of birds chirping. He could smell the blended fragrance of a million fruits and flowers. The very air was fresh and sweet. 'Surely this must be a magical place', he thought. Excited at his discovery, he ran back to tell all! 'We must find out what this place is and make it a part of our kingdom!'

Everyone in the kingdom was thrilled by the new place! They came from far and wide to inspect and admire the forest. And the forest was SO pleased! For so many years they had missed the voices of people. The trees were happy to offer their best fruit to the children who came visiting. The flowers were keen to show off their brilliant colours. Everyone admired the prince's forest.

But the King who was a very greedy man, had other plans. 'Why don't we build a small palace here?' he asked. 'Then we can stay in comfort whenever we want'. The prince was not happy at the thought of changing anything in this lovely place. But the King assured him that it would not make much change, and anyway many of the trees were old and much better off being cut! The prince gave in.

The King was very pleased with his new palace. It was so much better than the old one! It had much prettier rooms and the furnishing was SO elegant! He was really quite taken with it and began to spend more and more time there.

After a while he began to get quite fed up with all the traveling back and forth he had to do between his kingdom and the forest. He decreed that a wide road be built connecting the palace in the forest to the palace in the city.

Like a sweeping gust of wind, rumour swept through the forest. No one was sure anymore what was true and what wasn't.
Was the venerable beech tree by the well really going to be cut? 'It can't be' said the squirrel. 'That tree is my home!' 'And my playground', said the small child. 'Who will I climb now?'
'I just built my nest there' said the sparrow. They shook their heads sadly.

And yet men poured in every day with axes and plans.

(To be concluded.)