There is heroism in crime as well as in virtue. Vice and infamy have their altars and their religion! As William Hazlitt echoed these words, nothing better sums up the central theme of Keigo Higashino’s whirlwind tale of intensified mystery titled “The Devotion of Suspect X”.  The book that has captured the imagination of a million people and has gone on to become the latest Japanese sensation is apt enough to deserve the accolades. The author creates magic with the battle of 2 brilliant minds and unravels the plot in the midst of a cold, spine chilling puzzle.

Yashuko – a single mother and her daughter Misato has carved out a life of their own, in the underbelly of a Tokyo suburb after she successfully dodges her blackmailing ex-husband. But things don’t go as planned, when Yashuko’s ex-husband turns up one night to persuade her. In an unexpected turn of events and a sudden scramble of self defense, they commit a heinous crime by killing the man. Overcome by an intolerable urge to safeguard her daughter, Yashuko accepts the Ishigami’s offer to help them. Herein begins a tale of a congruous and impenetrable logic of an incorruptible mathematical wizard – a high school teacher, in pursuit of devising the unsolvable problem does an act of unimaginable self sacrifice that could lead him to a bottomless valley.

But it is often said, that destiny lies in the path you often take to avoid it. The investigation was aided by Ishigami’s college mate, Yukawa another equal mind, a genius physicist. As the race to the finish lines begins, with Ishigami’s sole purpose to save the woman he has loved all his life and Yukawa, who in his undying curiosity of delving into Ishigami’s mind lock horns. It’s an epic battle of wits and observation, of unforeseen derivations and logic. Slowly Yukawa begins to tear apart Ishigami’s immovable shield of logic and deception. This part reminds of the conflict of an unstoppable force and an immovable object unreal but made believable by the author’s unanticipated story telling capabilities.

   Higashino’s style of weaving the plot seemed unparallel as the story rolled over with delicious intricacies and meticulous details, is sure to create a lasting impression on the reader’s mind. Keeping in mind the author’s story telling genius, the monotone of the book mars the excitement and dampens the climax a tad too much. The writing style is easy to understand and popularistic but at times as a reader I did feel the dearth in the strength and depth of the language, which sometimes did fail to capture the emotions of the characters and keep the reader hooked on. The book portrays the extensive research and the effort the author has taken to align mathematics, philosophy and basic human psychology in a straight line. It’s a worth read and definitely a recommend for the sake of sheer brilliance of Higashino, unparallel turn of events, the characterization of two old friends and the emotional aspect in the background.   

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Author:  Keigo Higashino

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“Oh!! Great! So, when exactly is the ceremony?”

“Next week, Wednesday, St. Cathedral Banquet Hall, California, check if you people can do something about it” I could hear, my didi almost in a threatening tone from the other end, “Ma, this wedding has to be in India, I am not gonna marry without everybody’s blessings!! Not fair”

That was my Mashi (Aunt) signing off on the phone, expecting her young brigade of engineers to pull off a cameo by bringing in part of Detroit, Carolina, Texas, London, Auckland, Calcutta and Delhi here at the Bay Area, California on the 18^th of January 2012, 9AM EST sharp (if not physically then mentally). No wonder she reminds me of my manager.



Marriage Cartoon by Andertoons

The occasion? Well. My cousin sister – the sweetest person living till date and a darling of the entire clan (read family) is getting married to her almost-childhood sweetheart. Oh! And this occasion does call for a party, yes! A family gathering; and can it get better than this?

After the news of her marriage reached us here in Calcutta, there were much… much animated discussions about oh well… about everything. The venue, the couple, the arrangements, the guests and of course the free flowing advises from the eldest of the family about the color of the sarees, the tailors, the gifts and the intricate details of the marriage. Some heeded to and some not! Now, the fact that almost 60% of the family stays right here in Calcutta, the City of Joy won the vote for the marriage venue on the popular category by a mile. But the balance finally tilted towards to the Bay Area and it was sealed. The reception party however would be thrown at Calcutta when the bride and the groom come down to India sometime during the winter of ’12. But the fact that most of the guys who wouldn’t be able to make it to the US, did make us a bit twitchy and morose– especially my aunt who was the closest and most attached to her family. But how do we manage?

“YouTube?” -  I blurred out on phone to TJ – my brother in Texas.

“Dude, we are talking about something this important, and YouTube would be like, uploading a stale video the next day and make people watch a documentary, where is the fun in here?” He growled.

“Hmm! That’s true, but what else do we have? How do we put in live streaming video and that too without buffering? Lets YouTube it and people can download it at ease and watch it at their own free will.” I asserted exasperated, devoid of any idea.

-          Silence  -

“Let’s webcam it from your laptop” I snapped out of the line.

“You expect me to run around Diya, with my lappy wherever she goes? Listen, did you hear about the app called Justin.tv. Fred once mentioned it to me long back; I guess that might help us here.” TJ rumbled over the phone.

“The only Justin I have heard about is the Timberlake guy” not really speaking it out in case I incur his wrath. I said, “And what exactly is that?”

“Google it out, let me check if that will work and I will give you a call in an hour”

~Bleep~ (the phone went silent)

Hopelessly clueless, I threw myself on the bed and typed in URL in search of the other Justin. I could have gone on to my laptop but I wanted to check out my new Vodafone 3G connectivity. Here is what I found –

-          An app called justin.tv.

-          All you have to do is to set up an account and send the link to people you want to share with.

-          Basically, justin.tv will generate a webpage with live feed from the webcam.

-          You can do the same thing with your cell phone, if you have an android or I-phone

-          You download/install the app and then log in and broadcast from your phone camera.

-          And of course you would need a super fast internet to watch the live stream.

After an hour, when TJ called back, he had already half decided. Skeptical, (provided the kind of internet services we have over here) I decided to go with Fred’s idea.

Since most of the relatives were computer half literates they were banking on me and my other cousin for the technical stuff to be conducted on the D-day.

“Okay, who has good connectivity at your place?” that was TJ’s direct question.

I fumbled for a split second, and said it’s only me and Dada (my cousin), he has this latest android so I guess that would be good.”

“Excellent!!” I have already downloaded the app, and created an account. Will mail you the link and you be there at the right time, with all the set up in place. Call up Dada and explain the process. Pass the word to the family so that they can all be there where you two guys are! ”

“But, dude it’s on a Wednesday and I have a client call that day. How do I manage to take the laptop?”

“Dude, it’s your sister’s wedding and…”

“Okhay, okhay! I will be there” I cut him short, wondering at the back of my mind whether the phone would work out.

I was excited no doubt and as the word spread that TJ have devised a way to broadcast live the wedding ceremony, there was cheer all around. Everybody was like, “Diya r biye internet e dekha jabe” (Wow! We can see Diya’s wedding over the internet). My Grand-mom was ecstatic, when she heard of the live feed to her favorite grand daughter’s wedding. She was ga-ga about it and constantly talked about how graceful she is to God.

If this succeeds then it would one of the never before high tech weddings at our family and then there were plans made, dates and times fixed. We started working on the setup and using my uncle’s 32 inch LED to connect with any of the cell phones, so that we can have a bigger screen, greater fun and much cherished moment.

My aunt called up and enquired, gave the final details on the whereabouts of the ceremony, chirped nonstop with my mom for the next two hours and everybody just couldn’t contain their happiness. Finally the D-day arrived. I haven’t seen people in our family so punctual and enthusiastic consider the average of the dynasty was nearing 40. From my Dida (mom’s mom) who is in her early 90’s to my 10 old year cousin, it was a happy ground. With a constant supply of fish fries and Coke and home-made potato chips served by my households, everybody was in their seats by the time it all started. The exchange of the rings, the oath, the blushes and apprehension, everything was life like. And then there was the kiss and the entire family burst out laughing and cheering. Surprisingly nobody really blushed or twitched. The video was spic and span. With TJ at the venue (he flew from London) broadcasting with his android and Vodafone, and every minute detail being shot at and captured and sent live and buffer free to 7 cities miles apart – class apart. It lasted for almost 2 hours and it was unadulterated fun. With an old school family of ours everybody thought it was close to P.C Sarkar’s magic show.  I took half of the praise since I was at reach, and the best wishes were sent to the newlyweds over phone and long emails later in the day.

1 live marriage ceremony -7 Cities – 100 people – 1000 of miles apart!

Yes technology is fun. Internet is funnier.

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 This post was written with love for The Vodafone Internet Is Fun Contest at Indiblogger.    

www.vodafone.in/fun

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… And then we kissed and the moon went pink once again.
… And the waves retreated leaving traces of the white foam,
… on the wet sands, on your wet tender toes.

{This photo is an ode to all those who love the moon, love to bathe in its white liquid borrowed luminescence. and reminisce about life’s hits and misses in its afterglow.}

“Blue blistering barnacles!!!!

Thundering typhoons!!!

You nincompoops, interplanetary pirates, I am not going into that flying coffin again!!!!”

                                                         –Capt. Haddock to Thompson and Thomson in                                                                                    the,” Explorers on the Moon”

Oh!!! How could I forget captain Haddock and his favorite Loch Lomond brand of whiskey? And the inimitable Cuthbert Calculus, Bianca Castafiore, the two bumbling detectives?  I was lazing around… in front of the idiot box last night, and suddenly this show on cartoon network came up…I just thought of watching Tintin for a change… and I exclaimed to myself, “blue blistering barnacles, I forgot almost all the stories in it!!!! And once it had been one of my choicest of all books. I still remember I almost pestered my mom to insanity every other day, to buy me all the Tintin series until I had all 23 of them. Hee haw!!! Someday I was too bored of reading them over and over again, I would scramble up to my mom’s lap and blurred out,

  “MOOOOm, read this story for me, pleaseeeee” my dad was always my back up plan, because he was a bit impatient while reading out stories. Lol… 

 There was a time, when I had almost memorized the entire 23 books, err… well almost!! I used to sit with a Tintin book on the dining table, while having meals, and I could hear my mom screaming,

 “Why do you bring this book, along with the food?”

And she used to show stupid excuses,

 ”if you don’t pay attention to what you are eating, you will never grow up into a strong boy!!”

 And I being the smallest of all kids, used to look up to mom, starry eyed, and murmur under my breath,

 “Ma, just this one last time, only 10 pages left to read” my mom would say,

 “No, leave this book, I will tell you a nice story instead… oh!! I was heartbroken!   

A child and his childishness hah!! My mom finally gave up the idea.

 Then there were days, when we actually used actually play being Tintin. Ewes, what was that game. Umm, well we used build houses with the legos and actually make up our own story with a certain tuft less Tintin, a hot tempered captain Haddock, and the good old Cuthbert calculus, who used to act as he was “a little hard of hearing.” And that game would be fun, with occasional fights,(childhood adventures you know).

 One day I even slipped one Tintin book into my school bag, so that I could read it in class, and I did, and I got my caught too!!! I had a guardian call. Gawwwd, I can still pain in my butt, I was crying like a baby (well… I was one at that time…). My dad locked up all my 23 hot collection in the cupboard, until my final examination was over. God!! How crazy can dads get over silly things!!

 I reached for my precious book shelf, wiped out the dust, went through the stupid Enid Blytons, hardy boys, the dumb old pop-up books, the john grishams and the amitav ghoshs’ until I found the entire 23 crazy diamonds. The pages have turned yellow, with time, the corners of the front covers were coming off, I wiped the dust off with my hands, and thought oh! Crap what a mad little brat I was, over this immortal soul, and handed it over to my 6 yr old cousin sister, who went away dancing… I was really happy that day.

Its like passing on a precious gem, the passion will never die.

 Hey c’mon guys this Tintin fever’s not yet over, I got a Tintin cd collectors pack, the entire lot.

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This entry is a part of the contest at BlogAdda.com in association with imlee.com

Kerala, is truly God’s own country.. Amidst the dense rain forests with the slow pitter-patter of the summer rains.. it was an exhilarating experience- photographer’s heaven.

[Show as slideshow]

Love is crazy. Love is all about going boing, boing all over the place. Love is the magic potion that makes you talk to yourself. Yes, if not similar, very close. And what am i trying to do here? Narrate a story of a lifetime (i promise it will be boring enough to make you people snore midway!) in a blog of 2000 words…?

But Love Is Crazy….what to do…?

We have long been used to childhood sweethearts… infatuations, crushes that linger around for a few months, and then suddenly..Poooof! A new crush, the same V-day card, but with a different name..eh..!! Sounds seductive! The kid, who goes in and out of the storyline…is a face in the crowd, hated studies, loved junk food at the road side stalls, didnt have much of a world beyond home-school-playground-home, disliked mushy love songs, entering adolescence. But why the author chose him, remains a mystery. Anyways.. The story unravels in a very boring atmosphere.

Year 1998. A city school. A crammed classroom. A big, menacing, dirty blackboard. A psychic algebra teacher with flaring nostrils, who came to class 5 minutes early every day, and left 10 minutes after the final bell!! Who recited more horrible poetry, than algebraic formulas, who at the slightest provocation, would make us stand on benches with hands held high, for full one period. The back benches were however, blooming with enthusiasm; starting from book cricket to pen fights, there was no dearth of amusement at the back. Hence, the kid in focus, being a strong contender for the noisiest back bencher, became this psyche’s favorite boy(for all the wrong reasons). Every class a chalk would come hurling down, directly at his head, and it was time to get out of the class! He was not alone though, he actually a group of trusted friends who would always join him outside the class. And oh, my god, the punishment was fun…(until the vice princi came for rounds…uh!) Life was beautiful…Our kid played the waiting game…school would soon be over.

Little did he know that school wouldnt remain the same for him; He didnt have the slightest idea that cupid was lurking behind him, ready with the bunch of stupid arrows. One sunny morning, the inevitable happened. cupid struck! aww! that hurts…%$$## How stupid can the cupid be. Hitting the wrong person. The kiddie who hardly ever talked to girls(he considered them to be dumb) Ohh! those girlish gossips, the shrieking and the giggling over trivial matters… how he hated those.. Girls and he are not peas and carrots.. how the hell is he supposed to propose the girl, leave aside the dating part…. He shuddered at the thoughts of these. Still life was beautiful… He played the waiting game…its just an infatuation… it will pass.

As days turned into nights and nights to another bright sunny morning, the cursed arrow, seems to be spreading into his veins. He never thought, even in his worst nightmares, that of all people, ‘HE’ would fall in love. But love just happened to him. The birdie was already making him fly high… Love was in the air. How he planned his approach to go and talk to the little birdie… how he rehearsed infront of the mirror…ha! But nothing’s going right for him, this crap-header couldn’t even ask for a pen from her. There were plenty of love-gurus, from whom he often turned for advices… But sadly, he was left all in the dark. By this time, he had developed all the serious and the dreadful symptoms of love. He had started daydreaming, started liking mushy love songs, staring at the history book, with his mind somewhere else. Sigh!! How he missed the lunch break at school when his trusted clan of friends were busy bird-watching! There was always this strange butterfly like creatures fluttering inside his stomach, whenever he looked at his girl. Life sucked… but still in some sense, unknown to him, life was beautiful. He played the waiting game… one opportunity and he would talk his heart out.

Well, that opportunity soon came. The girl being tired of the furtive glances, and the dreamy stares, came to him. FREEZE!! Talking to a girl was like talking to the president of India. He was tongue-tied-twisted. Still, our kiddy managed to gurgle, and bubble out something, under his breath. They became friends… they chattered useless things (to him it was), he soon become aware of the art saying dumb things. But he learnt fast. How he wished, there would be no boring algebra and history lessons. He rued over the crappy 40 min lectures, when he couldn’t talk to his girl. But never for a moment did he move his eyes from her. Suddenly his hands seemed too tired to take down the history notes, it had learnt to pen down poetry… ! The furtive glances, mid lecture, the meeting of the eyes, the mischievous smile, the turning back. It was seventh heaven. He never imagined life was so beautiful… He still played the waiting game…. one day he would be dumbstruck with the three horrible words, with a rose in his hands, kneeling down…and she would oblige.

By now, the tale of love has delved deeper than he had thought. He had started missing her, like anything, and suddenly to the surprise, of our kid’s parents, he couldn’t wait to go to school. The weekends were surprisingly unwanted. The phone calls started getting longer. The musings of a stolen heart had begun. There were some sudden bouts of sleepless nights. He started dreaming even when wide awake. Oh…what the hell is this rotten feeling that nearly caught him off guard, sucked the ground beneath him, his heart, turned inside out, pumping blood like mad, He felt the effects of this horrible feeling, physically, psychologically, anatomically and in every possible way…that exists. He would look at his love bug… How mysterious, how enchanting. As she walked, his heart would drop, start churning into the stomach. And those frightening butterflies would come from nowhere. He would watch her mystified, always wary of her eyes, her furtive glances, so that she never caught her abruptly staring at her. Love just is… is…? Suddenly he cared not! All he cared about that he was in it, sinking! The days of preparation seemed longer than he thought. The perfect way of proposing his dream birdie. Childish it was, but at that time, for him, it was worth. He couldn’t think, that how a crackpot, a dumb head, a jackass, like him would ever propose a girl, of all creatures. (Eeeikkss!!) But cupid had even planned for this. (One more crack header like him.) She did the hard work for this hero of ours. But here’s the twist. This kid would never grow up…. He was repelled by the idea of a commitment. He had seen how his already committed friends were struggling to keep their respective girlfriends at bay. The idea… suddenly delved into his mind. What would happen to the after school play outs… the bird watching.. the brawl at the school buses… the reaching home with the white shirt, crumpled and dirty like the dark monsoon clouds. NO,NO, NO…. he cant die so young. He loved the wilderness of his teenage. He repelled at the idea, of roaming around jobless with his new found committed relationship, peacefully. Suddenly he was confronted with the hard reality. His independence! He turned her down. Love died abruptly. But he was once again alive. Life was beautiful as it never was. He just played the waiting game… till he was ready to take love…in.

Year 2000. They hardly talked in between this time span. It was the school leaving day. The last day at school. He still remembers… the nostalgia, his jaws ached…may be …may be…There were some unforced drops of tears running down. But hell, it was not for love. The separation was painful…. That was the last day that he saw of her, her shining face, the eyes that brought sunshine to him, the smile for which he would run around Victoria memorial thrice without resting.. Childish it was though, but he still loved her, at some corner in his heart. Three more years went by… night after night, day after day, she still somehow came in his thoughts. Plundering him of his sleep, his awareness, but never his happiness. He couldn’t muster enough courage of looking up to her eyes… once again. What if the eyes didn’t shine for him anymore? What if the smile was sarcastic? What if….what if….what if….The birth of a dreamer. Life was beautiful in the painful way. All he could do was to play the waiting game.

He never looked at love, the way he looked at it before. He had seen both sides of love. The two faced coin that love is. It was music as well as noise. But he learnt to differentiate. He had found love and lost it. Oh crap!! So then came the day that was supposed to come 4 yrs back. But there were too much silt that has been deposited between their friendships. There was too much mud, too many sentiments. But he vowed to himself, he would remove them all. There were friendships, once again. It was painfully slow, but it was there. The sunshine began glowing through the long standing dark clouds. There were smses, missed calls; it’s after all about sweet nothings.

But what our kid missed out was the real feelings. Love doesn’t rise from ashes. His empty dreams may rise… But not love. He anticipated this after a considerable long amount of time (as always a jackass) He has traded his dreams, peddled to his success… buried some abruptly. But relationships are on the physical plane. They are predictable. Not some “after school football”, nor they are the “school bus brawls”, neither they are “dust on his school uniform”, ready to be washed off by mom. He had admired love. He had respected love, but it wasn’t on time, and love doesn’t wait….for mood swings. Its a different kind of independence, and thanks to our kiddy’s late realization, he definitely is independent. Suddenly life couldn’t be more beautiful…. He had stopped playing the waiting game… May be its against his male chauvinism, may be against his super ego, but he doesn’t want lose in love again. He had kept the friendship. Sometimes a loss is more sweet than a war won. Its the sweetness of submission, that captivates the essence of love.

The kid has grown!!