Tanka

  

Photo Credit: Deviant Art

by an azure lake

tall branches reach high, leaving

wisps of scattered clouds

like musings of a poet

on dreamy wistful mornings

Book Review- The Mine

The Mine was my first thriller novel in English by an Indian author, a refreshing break from all the romance at the 'premier' institutes.

 If you are an ardent lover of stories that are absolute page turners, that make you chew on your nails, that you can't help finishing at once( and you find hard it to do anything else unless you've read the last word on the last page), then The Mine by Arnab Ray is your manna. This is one book where you'll not require the services of your bookmark however cute the dangling tassels may look from between the pages.

Somewhere in the deserts of Rajasthan is a mine, the existence of which is not known to the world above. Deep inside the earth an ancient shrine surfaces, the uncovering of which sets the ball rolling and a sequence of bizarre accidents occur. A team of experts consisting of calm and gentlemanly doctor, a snobbish toxicologist, a suave archaeologist, a pretty psychiatrist and our protagonist, an expert in security surveillance are summoned in an eccentric manner to evaluate the ongoing crisis and give there inputs. Halfway through the story they discover that their fates are engraved in the temple below. They are the only people left in the mine and trapped there perhaps for life, however long it may be. In the midst of different speculation on why this happened they find ways to escape. But route is full of life threatening hurdles for each one has to bear the burden of his sins. This is where the writer takes you for a to and fro ride between the character's past life and his present situation (a la Sidney Sheldon). . What follows is a sequence of gory details right up to the climax. Amidst the bobby traps and other invisible killing devices the author brews fine suspense, which is accentuated by poetic and Biblical verses, the Hebrew carvings below and the doctor's philosophy

The book in itself is a mine, the deeper you go, the more secrets are unveiled and shattering confessions made. The plot is an absolute maze that you are sucked into. It's the journey of the characters on their path towards freedom that will keep you on tenterhooks. And like what is expected of a good mystery the ending is unexpected. The protagonist finds that the answers to his questions were staring him in the face while he went around looking for them all these years. Evil is most where you least expect it. And just when you think all the gore was over and all sins were paid for, there is more for the protagonist to 'watch'.

Another one

This was published in Reading Hour March-April 2012

Unwavered

Sumaiya Inayat

Tonight

The blooming moon

Unwinds the tapestry

Of forgotten days

And makes me want to

Tread softly

On each strand;

The fragrance of misty air

Leaves an aura of reminiscence;

The sound of

Far off music

Which, was once familiar

Transposes

To times long gone by.

Yet I stay steadfast

On a path

I chose for myself.

For by now,

My darling,

I have befriended my solitude

And shall,

Amidst wistful days

Remain faithful to it.

For The Love of Kayeri (Raw Mangoes)

In most other places March would be a season of spring but living in a hot dry place one rarely gets to witness those blooms on the sidewalks, the whiffs of fragrance, the musky breeze, the fat bunches of blossoms, the never ending stretches of yellow mustard flowers and all those things that signal the coming of monsoon, instead March in Hyderabad is the prologue to the hot humid whether that would be engulfing the city for the next three months and not to forget its also the month of the royal and splendid arrival of the King of Fruits. The first signs of appearance marked by white flower laden tree is a pleasant sight to all the mango lover's eyes. If you look at it from a distance , it looks more like shreds of snow covering the thick greens.


 And while the mango trees in your courtyard are still in the first stages of production, there are green mangoes already available in the market and its the season of all yummy chutneys, murabbas and aabsholas.
As much as I love the sweet smelling ripened yellow mangoes, I would kill to eat the kacchi kayeri with the powdery mixture of salt and red chilli. Now why kill to eat , that's not because kayeri is not easily available. Its very easy to lay your hands on them in this season. Only thing is kayeri in isolation, doesn't give you the taste you are looking for, eating without any accomplishments would only leave your tongue sore and cracked. But if you are caught trying to access all things at one go, the elders in your family are bound to smell through your intentions as a result there is every possibility that you would be presented with 101 reasons stating how and why such a combination is harmful for you specially in this hot summer, these reasons are more often than not accessorized with a bit of scoldings but that's a very small prize to pay for the eternal satisfaction that one derives from eating this once in a year fruit (?)


And so to avoid any suspicion the kayeris, salt and red chilli combo has to be smuggled one by one, each at different time to avoid the risk of all access to these little joys being barred. If one were to get spotted by my dadi, she would suffice by saying, "Nau sau niamath kha ke bhi ujaad cheezon mein dil atkawa rehta."
If only she knew THIS was our summer niameth. I guess she did know it sometime back, she has only outgrown it.


There is an indescribable joy, a divine tangy taste in relishing each slice of salt-chilli coated kayeri bit by bit, it only leaves you craving for more. I hear the other alternative is chaat masala, haven't tried yet but I can still vouch nothing beats that hot and tangy flavor that you get form the kayri-namak-laal mirch combo. And if you haven't tried it yet, you don't know what you are missing.




P.S. This post is a product of extreme boredom (but I do love raw mangoes like crazy), were you to find it dumb, I'd be least offended.

A Pain In The Neck-2

A sequel to my last poem, and this time its for all the 'well wishing' aunties who lose sleep over girls of 'marriageable age' being single.


Out of the blue pops up these things,
You know one of those dreaded weddings.

'Everybody is going' it is proclaimed,
If you refuse, for life you shall be maimed.

The menu sounds luring, but going there how I dread,
Would rather be home and have soup and bread.

For the saree clad hyenas await my arrival
Facing them, by God, I feel suicidal.

Tonight, I know, I shall be their prey,
They are going to savour me like a souffle.

As I enter, each one has her share,
In giving me that knee trembling stare.

Please aunties, don't give me those looks,
I know I do not belong in your good books.

To a prospective mother in law I am dragged,
And made to listen to all that is bragged.

Sheepishly she asks, "Waat is your habbie"?
Well, I enjoy swearing in English, Hindi and Punjabi (inner voice)

That's what I am tempted to answer,
Instead, I say I am a part time dancer.

Horror engulfs the makeup smeared faces,
Oh how I enjoy spotting those anger traces.

At the table for me a few 'plans' are drawn,
While I blissfully hog all that I can lay my hands on.

A Pain In The Neck-1

Your unfazed intent glare,
makes me wonder if I am a specie so rare.
You check my hands and feet and hair, 
And keep giving me that long hard stare.


You do justice to the snacks served,
And receive more hospitality than you deserved.


I reckon you wanted,


A bahu all tall and slim and fair,
Of other things, I am sure you may not care.
I certainly do not fit your mould,
A 'chand ka tukda' you are looking for I am told.


But my dear old lady,


Did you notice your son's wide waistline,
Or perhaps that reclining hairline?
Won't they make an odd pair?
A princess and a huge bear.


You brag and brag but,


His MS does not impress me,
Nor does that Rs. 10 lakh per annu, you see.
With your son's pea sized brain,
All that might as well go down the drain.


You make me stand and check my height,
You do want to know if I am on a diet.


I also wish to show you,


How rude my tongue can get
It would leave your mouth gaping, I bet.


But because I am told I am a "khandani girl",


Like a mannequin, I sit and smile
And stare down all the while.
Wondering if the one in Che's beret
Would ever crash into my life's foray.....



written in a lighter vein :D