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The CBC's Six Word Memoir Tag

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Mon, 24 Jun 2013 10:34:00 +0000

This post is a part of The Chennai Bloggers Club's six word memoir tag. I had no idea that a six word memoir tag actually existed until this subject came up for discussion at the CBC. As the name suggests, you are supposed to sum up your life or describe yourself in just six words. This can be fun and challenging at the same time. So, without further ado, here's mine:

"Progress through the pursuit of passion."

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The baton was passed to me by Ashwini CN, who blogs here. She is an excellent writer, wonderful speaker and above all, a good-hearted soul. Don't forget to read her blog!

I'm happy to pass the baton to Somu Padmanabhan, who blogs here. He specializes in Indian woodworking, DIY-arts and crafts. Check out his blog as well.

If you are a blogger with a Chennai connection AND have a Facebook account, send the CBC a request. We'd be happy to have you there!

The perks of being an NRI

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Thu, 20 Jun 2013 07:25:00 +0000

Prashanth Ashok (Whom I've come to regard as a friend and a brother and who is a member of the wonderful CBC) and I had a bet last month in which I pathetically lost. And the deal was that I had to give him a chance to do a guest post on my blog. So here, the versatile writer and National University of Singapore student talks about the perks of being an NRI. Over to you, Prassy.
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The term NRI is highly subjective, especially in the complex Indian setup. Even if an Indian visits Nepal to have a holy darshan of the Mahadev, some people call him an NRI. And no doubt, that adds a bit of status (pseudo status, more like it). The classic one, of course, is that you have all the beautiful women of the family drooling over you and parents frantically trying to fix up an alliance with the NRI. How naïve we are. But since Sowmya wanted me to write specifically about the perks, why deny myself a chance to brag? But I am only going to talk of some of the perks when an NRI like me returns home. So here it goes:

To me personally, the biggest perk of being an NRI is how much you are pampered when you visit home. Day in and day out, mother cooks your favorite dishes, makes it customary to say, 'Why have you gone down so much', and thankfully making it a duty to ensure you put on more than all the weight you have lost. Not to forget all the biscuits and snacks that come along the way. The last time when I was in Chennai for two weeks, every single day was a feast. Each day, even before I think of getting out of bed, steamy hot food would be served. Wow, the amazing feeling that it gave.

Quoting jet-lag as a reason to not do something is perhaps another wonderful thing about being an NRI. Even for Singapore, which is merely two and half hours ahead of India, I use jet-lag as an excuse. And every time, it pays off no doubt. This would particularly pay off when you have a wedding to attend, where a particularly nosy aunty would say 'you are next'.

For me, since I am a social person, it gives me a wonderful chance to bond with long-lost people, and sometimes get to meet new ones. The last time when I was in Chennai, a few amazing things happened. Meeting wonderful people from CBC was the best thing. This extended on to jamming sessions where I could revive my passion for music; to dinners where all you do is not eat, but talk. And some of them have become really close that I wish I was in Chennai right now.

And then there is the chance to brag, much to the irk of many. Of course, this is purely sadist in nature. Right from mineral water to the dust and smoke, we NRIs get to brag about almost anything. But in reality, we actually enjoy every bit of it, considering we've grown up in the very same surroundings and certain old memories die very hard. Of course, this is something we would never admit in public, but that's the truth. There! I said it.

But the best part, personally to me, is coming home, which gives one a sense of pride and happiness, a feeling that cannot be described all that easily. How much ever one enjoys being abroad, it is still another country which can never match up to India.

Book Review: Smart Phones Dumb People?

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Thu, 20 Jun 2013 06:32:00 +0000

Courtesy: Goodreads

Name: Smart Phones Dumb People?

Author: Parthajeet Sarma

Genre: Non-Fiction

Price: Rs.195

Publisher: Good Times Books Pvt. Ltd. (First published in 2013)

ISBN: 9789380629569

How many of you are logged into Facebook right now? Or tweeted something a minute ago? Or checked into Foursquare on your smartphone an hour back? A lot of you, I’m sure. This is quite demonstrative of the omnipresent power of technology that has come to rule our lives like never before.

This is the premise on which the book “Smart Phones Dumb People?” has been authored upon by Parthajeet Sarma. A look at the title makes one wonder if the author propagates the belief that technology has made humans less active and increasingly dumb. But the author is quick to put forth his views that humans are and will always be, intelligent than smart phones.

The book throws light on several changes in our lifestyle that has been caused by advancement in technology. Sample this: Just like how kids open the refrigerator every ten minutes to check if there is something good to munch on, people log into social media websites every now and then to check their notifications and timelines.

The author places emphasis on the fact that though technology has made our lives more sedentary, it has not certainly made us less intelligent. On the contrary, technology has only helped us in designing effective working patterns. However, he also warns us to not let technology make decisions for us and asks us to exercise our gray matter every now and then, because at the end of the day, technology is just a tool that makes lives easier.

The book is spiked with several anecdotes on how technology has been the backbone for several humble start-ups like Apple and Facebook years ago and how technology still rules the roost in the start-up arena. The author also provides a bird’s eye view of the business models of several sectors in the Indian and world industry that have adapted to the twentieth century’s technological changes, thus progressing at a rapid rate. The epilogue captures the essence of the book: That technology can and should be life-changing but should never ruthlessly control the way a society functions.

The book is certainly a treasure trove for all technophiles and entrepreneurs (amateurs and veterans) looking to get a broader perspective of the status-quo of technology and its impact on our everyday lives.

Book review: The Oath of the Vayuputhras

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 09:22:00 +0000

Courtesy: Wikipedia

I know am terribly late in posting this, but better late than never. The Oath of the Vayuputhras, which is the final installment of the Shiva Trilogy, authored by Amish, hit the book stores last month. The immensely popular Shiva Trilogy is a tale of how a Tibetan tribal leader went on to become one of the greatest men on Earth (And not to mention, becoming one of the most revered Lords of all time) purely because of his Karma and Dharma.

The Oath of the Vayuputhras begins exactly where the second part, The Secret of Nagas ends: The return of Brahaspathi. The book answers the burning questions of Shiva and the readers like: "What exactly is Evil? How do we really know that Evil has risen? What is the best way to take Evil out of equation? Who are the real villains of the story?" and the like. We travel across terrains with Shiva to unravel the ugly truths of Meluha, the deceptions that have the potential to shake the very foundations of Meluha if revealed.

The characters that we fell in love with, when we first read "The Immortals of Meluha", continue to impact us through their virtues in the third part. Of all, Sati emerges as the clear winner (Not certainly due to the tragic climax) because she is a real role model for all. She is assertive, independent, loving and has a lot of integrity that, you respect and love her at the same time. The character of Sati is perhaps, one of the best women characters ever penned in the history of modern Indian literature.

The best part of "The Oath of the Vayuputhras" is the way prejudices are smashed into pieces, perspectives are questioned and principles of Manudharma are emphasized. Amish, who is an universal favorite and is idolized by the Indian youth must be commended for structuring the story on the very foundations of the ideologies of Indian culture. He has infused the story with the power of Manudharma and Karma. The story teaches us to uphold the ideologies and philosophies of our culture, yet encourages us to questions the contradictions that it presents. The book also answered my burning question of the different interpretations of God in a way that stayed with my long after I'd read it.

The author, Amish, deserves a standing ovation for penning one of the best trilogies ever. The Oath of the Vayuputhras is surely the best way there is, to finish the Shiva Trilogy. It is a riveting and fitting finale to one of the most loved series of recent times, that will definitely be a treat to all fans of Shiva.

Om Nama Shivaaya!
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Book: The Oath of the Vayuputhras-Book 3 of the Shiva Trilogy

Author: Amish

Publisher: westland ltd

First published in 2013.

Genre: Fiction

Price: Rs.350

ISBN: 978-93-82618-34-8
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Har Har Mahadev!

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Thu, 21 Mar 2013 10:42:00 +0000

There are a few books that you totally fall in love with. Books which you never get bored of reading, no matter how many times you open them. Books which come with an unique and contagious energy that gives you an adrenaline rush whenever you immerse yourself in that electrifying far away world.

The Shiva Trilogy by Amish is one such series that I fell in love with, long back. It had everything in the right proportion that could make a series truly delightful: Fantasy, mythology, brotherhood, romance, action and most importantly, philosophy, which not only made a lot of sense, but changed my perspectives of life.

When I read the announcement that the book launch of "The Oath of Vaayuputhras" was going to happen at Chennai, I became ecstatic. I wanted to attend it, come what may. And how beautifully did my wish come true!

I reached the Citi Centre at 6.45PM approximately, and regretted instantly for starting late. The event was scheduled to start at 7PM, so I thought I had arrived on time. But the Landmark store was already packed. With a feeling of let down, I made my way through the crowd with my CBC friend Harikrishna. I managed to find a place to stand in that crowded place but I couldn't see Amish clearly for a long time. As the minutes passed, I became a little annoyed. But I could hear his voice clearly and I joyfully clung on to that for sometime. He was taking questions from the audience. I asked a girl nearby for the events which had happened before the "Question and Answer Session". She told me that the trailer/video preview/screening happened before the Q&A session. I felt bad for missing out on them but consoled myself by paying attention to what he was saying. A few people who were blocking my view moved and I could see him at last. W.O.W.

The Q&A session was super-fun, questions ranged from whether the Suryavanshi or Chandravanshi way of life was superior to ways in which we could reconcile the contradictions in Bhagavad Gita. His crisp answers which drew inspiration from the core philosophies of Gita and Upanishads were truly delightful to hear. I wanted to ask him questions, but it was difficult to get the mike, for which many were pleading. Another day perhaps, I thought.

And then came the moment that everyone in the store was waiting for. Yes, the book-signing session. Amish, being the lovable author that he is, promised to sign every copy. We cheered him loudly and hastily joined the long queue. And that was when the announcement from Amish came-"I'll begin from the middle of the store."

YES! I mentally whooped in the air. Because that was exactly where I was standing. I then gleefully moved to the front along with the queue. There were not many people waiting to get their copies signed before me. YAY!

And then I heard another announcement: "Please make sure that you have the receipt of the book with you. The author will not sign on pirated copies. Please make sure that you have the label on the book to prove that it is a genuine copy."

I immediately looked at my book. I searched for the label, but could't find it. I didn't even know how that darn label would look like. I didn't have the receipt with me, either. What the hell.

I asked a girl standing near me, but she was clueless too. Luckily, a Landmark staff was standing nearby and I rushed to ask her about it. She checked mine and told me that it wasn't a pirated copy, but since I didn't have the label, she wasn't sure if I could get it signed. I told her that I had purchased it from Flipkart and didn't know that I had to bring the receipt to the book launch.

And she said, "Okay, okay, I trust you. Just wait here, I'll get the label."

I waited there patiently, while people who were behind me, made their way to the front. Grrrr.

I was getting impatient again. Soon, she appeared with the label and stuck it on my book. I thanked her wholeheartedly and got back into the queue again. And exactly after two minutes, my turn came. I quickly gave my phone to a person nearby and asked him to click a few pictures.

I was so excited and breathless as I approached Amish's table. With a million questions waiting to be asked, my head was on the verge of exploding.

I blurted out, "I'm a HUGE fan of your books."

He smiled and before he could say something, I spoke again, as I had to ask him that burning question.

"What is your definition of God, how would you interpret him? Is it right to even define God?"

"Ahh, my answer would be lengthy. If you read the Nagas again..."

"But I did and I'm still confused!"

He smiled and said, "Well, you should then read the Nasadiya to understand that."

He wrote it down in my book and signed it.

"Sure, I will."

I got down from the raised platform before I could faint (Without even saying him a "Thank You"-Too bad, now that I stop and think about it.) and walked towards the other side of the store where my friends were waiting.

A voice called out, "Hey, don't you want your camera?"

Damn. How did I forget that?!!

"Oh, sorry, sorry. Thanks a lot. Thank you so much."

He smiled in acknowledgement. I then looked at the photographs. The fact that they were a little blurred did not matter to me. The writer in the picture and his autograph only (and hugely) did.

When I was on my way back home, I logged into Facebook and the first post on my timeline read: "Today's the first ever International Happiness Day."

AND I had celebrated it already with Amish and Shiva. :)

The Driving Force

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Tue, 19 Mar 2013 13:34:00 +0000

When I read an announcement on Indiblogger about an opportunity to blog on any social cause that I'm passionate about, I immediately became ecstatic. I've been looking for such opportunities for a while and hence I was glad to write about it. But the excitement was soon replaced by bouts of apprehension and confusion. What issue could I possibly write about? We have a mind boggling number of social issues that are waiting to be addressed-Illiteracy, malnutrition, unemployment, poverty, corruption, climate change, terrorism, sexual harassment.....The list is practically endless. Would it be fair to cherry pick from this list? Certainly not. And that's when I remembered that day.

That day when I woke up cheerfully, not knowing what fate had in store for me.

That day when I remembered my uncle's birthday and grabbed the phone to call him.

That day when I got a call from him even before I could dial his number.

That day when I heard that horrible news which tore apart our family.

That day when I knew that my aunt had left the world forever.

That day when her bike was hit by an over-speeding lorry.

That day when she was crushed to death by a ruthless driver.

That night when I was haunted by random images of her mutilated body and drunken drivers.

That night when I realized that traffic accidents were one of the biggest problems on Earth.

And that was the night when I mentally made a vow to my late aunt to never drive irresponsibly, come what may.

It took me an accident of this magnitude to realize the gravity of this situation in India. Yes, my motherland certainly is the numero-uno when it comes to witnessing traffic accidents on a daily basis. A few statistics to support my claim:

"Road accidents have earned India a dubious distinction. With over 1,30,000 deaths annually, the country has overtaken China and now has the worst road traffic accident rate worldwide. This has been revealed by the World Health Organization (WHO) in its first ever Global Status Report on Road Safety. According to the WHO, this is the second most important cause of death for 5 to 29 year olds. In India alone, the death toll rose to 14 per hour in 2009 as opposed to 13 the previous year." (Courtesy: DW)

I turned to look at my city, Chennai. The situation seems to be even more worse. Yes, Singaara Chennai, which I proudly call my hometown, is the unofficial "traffic-accident-capital" of the country. Statistics from various sources confirm this fact.

"According to statistics in the recently released report, “Accidental Death and Suicides in India” (ADSI 2011), prepared by the National Crime Records Bureau, Chennai recorded 9,845 road accidents in 2011. This was the highest among 53 cities in the country and has almost doubled from 5,123 in 2010. A preliminary 2012 report says Chennai city has more deaths in traffic accidents than any other city in the country. According to traffic police statistics, 1,390 people died in road accidents in Chennai in 2012." (Courtesy: OSAC)

Courtesy: Vinod Velayudan

A pedestrian getting hit by a rash biker because driving ruthlessly is his/her's version of " having fun", a biker being run over by a van whose driver has just had his fill of alcohol, a child getting trampled by an over-speeding auto whose driver thinks it is cool to drive with "gay abandon", a college student being crushed by a four-wheeler while crossing the road because she were too busy updating her Facebook status instead of concentrating on the road, a middle-aged uncle being run over by a train because he was cheerfully listening to R.D.Burman's compositions while crossing the railway lines (Which is illegal) instead of safely taking the stairs.....This is another endless list.

The reason behind these accidents are simple. People just do not respect traffic rules. Forget respecting rules imposed by the Government, they do not even respect their own lives. Any person who respects his/her life; anyone who completely understands the value of human life would never ever violate traffic rules.

The problem with people is that they view traffic rules as something that was summoned straight from the hell to irk them. They do not understand that such rules exist only to protect people and ensure that a harmonious and clutter-free traffic system exists in the country.

I do not wish to start a blame game now, because every single human being is responsible for this situation. The onus is on all of us to strive to make a change from within and spread the message consequently.

At this juncture, I should certainly give due credit to certain initiatives launched by various organizations. The Ministry of Road Transport and Highways has recently announced "The Citizen Dialogue-Highway Safety" on Google Hangout on 29th March, 7.30 PM IST. Citizens can interact with the Minister for Road Transport and Highways himself and give their suggestions on the various ways to make highways safer and better. This is a commendable initiative by the Government of India. Another initiative that was recently organized at Chennai is the "Stayin' Alive" campaign by Global Health City to ensure safer roads in Chennai. The event was a grand success, thanks to the patronage of the Government, celebrities and citizens.

However, there are not many organizations (Government or Private) at the regional or national level that are committed wholly to bringing an awareness on traffic related issues among the public. But I do wholeheartedly believe that there is a solution to every problem in this world. I have drawn up a five-point solution for this below.

#1-Primary School Education:

There's an age-old saying-"What cannot be taught at six can never be taught at sixty."

The first step that we need to take is to educate our children, who are the future pillars of the nation. (Which is the ultimate truth, however cliched it sounds.) Educating children on road and rail safety is the immediate need of the hour. Academicians and educationists should develop a curriculum where the "importance of safety on the go" is taught to children, along with Newton's laws of motion and India's freedom struggle. Children, if educated adequately on traffic issues, will certainly follow them and set an example for the elders to emulate. And by educating them, I mean enlightening them on the monstrous consequences of rash and drunken driving, teaching them the basic traffic rules like keeping left, wearing seat belts, helmets, understanding the importance of pedestrian crossing, traffic signs and signals, training them to drive bicycles responsibly and most importantly, making them appreciate the value of every life on Earth through creative and innovative activities.

#2-Awareness campaigns:

The elders, that is, people from the age group of 15-60 are the ones who frequently drive two-wheeler and four-wheeler vehicles on the roads. We need to create awareness across this section of the society through campaigns that effectively convey the message to them. The trick is not to preach endlessly on following traffic rules (Which they already know but disregard nevertheless) but to get victims of traffic accidents and their families to share their stories. When people listen to those gory tales, they would at least give a thought about it later. Isn't that the first step of a real change?

#3-Media:

The mass media is the best medium to bring a "real change" that we all desire. Right from the Indian freedom struggle to the recent Arab Spring, every revolution happened only by harnessing the power of media. The mass media, especially the immensely popular social media should be utilized to the optimum by the Government and citizens to create an awareness on traffic issues. Utilizing the mass media to publish/broadcast attractive cartoons, pictures, articles, videos, audios and pod-casts are some of the ways in which we could drive home the message.

#4-Infrastructure:

The road infrastructure of our country is indeed in a pathetic situation. There are roads which have nothing but potholes, roads without adequate lighting, highways without dividers, roads which are bumpy and narrow. Citizens cannot follow traffic rules unless they have roads on which they can actually drive smoothly and easily. It is the sole responsibility of the Government to ensure that the country has a proper road and rail infrastructure. This is a step which the Government has to take immediately, without citing red-tapism or lack of funds as excuses as they usually do.

#5-Enforcement:

Proper infrastructure and effective campaigning alone cannot solve this mammoth problem. The last step is ensuring that the rules are adhered to, come what may. The Ministry of Road Transport and Highways must ensure that there is an effective system of traffic-rule-enforcement that rewards people who abide them and punishes defaulters. A traffic constable accepting bribes from a biker who drives without license or exceeds the standard speed limits is exactly the reason why people get away with things. Rules may sound cruel, but ultimately, the purpose of their enforcement is to maintain the law and order in the country and most importantly, protect lives.

Having said that, I also believe that anything which is done voluntarily bears better fruits than something that is done under compulsion. It is our duty to ensure that we drive or walk responsibly and abide traffic rules because we want to and not because we have to.

Real change cannot happen overnight; it can be made possible only through the collective willpower of the society. Let us all strive to make it happen, one step at a time!

Courtesy: Vinod Velayudan

This blog post is submitted for the Indiblogger-Indichange-IDiya contest. Read more about IDiya here.

On MD and music

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Mon, 18 Mar 2013 05:32:00 +0000

Life always surprises us in the most unexpected ways. Yesterday morning, I left home at ten to meet two of my friends, Bragadeesh and Mahesh from CBC, at Spencer Plaza, to discuss certain issues. After having finished our discussion, we heeded to the Fruit Shop for a quick drink. We were joined by two friends, Vid and Harish from CBC there. And when I was preparing to leave, Vid told me that she was going to the Music Academy at TTK Road for a carnatic concert. Impulsively, I asked if I could join her. She was more than happy to have me and voila, we were at the Academy within half an hour!

Before I proceed with my tale, let me tell you something about my tryst with music. I'm a Tam-brahm cum Chennaite, so carnatic and devotional music aren't new to me. I grew up listening to many renditions of acclaimed carnatic musicians. The "Suprabadam" still is the first song I wake up to. I've been a part of the bhajan-group at school and sang for the school-culturals. However, I never went for the solo roles, as I was not a trained singer. I had issues with sruthi and thaalam (Seriously). I did sign up for carnatic music classes in my sixth grade. I was on the verge of finishing the first level when my music teacher became a mommy and quit giving us classes due to post-pregnancy issues. Perhaps, that was destiny's way of telling me that I was not cut out for being a singer. Also, I did not take too long to figure out that I was not a natural. There are a few singers who weren't born with latent musical abilities, but cultivated them through passion and perseverance. But somehow, I never had them and I gave up on music many years ago.

However, my tryst with music as a listener has always been a cherished one. I have learnt to appreciate good carnatic music over the years. I have many favorite carnatic musicians, whose concerts I've been dying to attend. And this is where I have to make a regrettable confession. I've never attended a concert in my life! Shocking, isn't it?

I've been listening to various genres of music-Be it filmy, carnatic, a few ghazals on the net, western etc, but somehow I've never had the opportunity to attend a concert in my life. I have a list of "Thirteen things that I wish to do in Chennai" (Which reminds me that I've to blog about it too!) and "Attending a carnatic concert" tops the list. And yesterday, Vid fulfilled my wish.

The concert was by a few lesser-known singers (Only to me, of course; they seemed quite popular at the Academy) who rendered the compositions of the legendary Muthuswami Dikshitar or MD, as Vid affectionately refers to. I know quite a little about him, thanks to an article I wrote on the "Trinity of Carnatic Music" for my school magazine.

But honestly, I never knew the real genius that Shri.MD was, until I listened to a few of his compositions. Penning down a song where you praise the Lord out of true devotion and incorporating the name of the Lord, the temple and mudra (The signature of the composer, which Vid told me. And Shri.MD's mudra is Guruguha) and setting it to a tune that is a perfect fit to the lyrical pattern of the song is no easy task.

I thoroughly enjoyed listening to their passionate renditions and to Vid, who taught me a few intricacies of the compositions in whispers. She brought a book which contained the lyrics of the songs which were being sung; so it was easy to follow them.

A regrettable part of the concert was that there were no youngsters listening eagerly to the musicians' renditions. Aunties, uncles, grandpas and grannies were the only people seated as the audience. (Yes, I know it is an off-season, but even during the music season, many youngsters do not attend such concerts as far as I know.) We need to nurture interest by creating an awareness among the youngsters on Indian culture, which is a treasure-trove of science and spirituality.

Music is not just a medium for expressing our devotion to the Lord or an outlet to pour out our deepest feelings, but is emotionally, intellectually and spiritually enriching too. The best part of yesterday's concert was that it made me appreciate these things better. Thank you, Vid! :)

Caveat Emptor

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Fri, 15 Mar 2013 12:01:00 +0000

"Amma, switch off the fan, please."

"Then you'll sweat and catch cold again."

"It's okay, pleaasse switch it off."

"Fine."

She got up from the chair and switched off the fan. I was shivering and my chests rattled.

"Amma, I'm hungry. Give me something to eat."

"Do you want rasam saadham? It's hot and nice."

"No...I don't feel like eating it right now. I want something else....Umm, wait, get me bread. Yes, I'll have bread."

"Wait, I'll get it. Appa bought a packet today morning."

"Okay."

She got up and went into the kitchen. A few seconds later, she came back.

"Here, take it."

I got up from my bed. My back ached badly as I had been sleeping for a long time. I threw the blanket away and got down. The floor felt icy; I shivered again.

I brushed my teeth, took the bread and started eating immediately. It was good, but tasted different. But I did not pause to think. I gobbled down the rest and when I reached out to take the last piece, I noticed something. I examined it closely and found a blue coating on the edges. Horrors.

"AMMMAAA!"

"Why are you yelling? What happened?"

"Look at this!!!"

She held it at eye length and did a closer-examination of the remaining piece. She became horrified when she saw the darn blue coating.

"What the hell is this?"

"How would I know? Appa was the one who bought it!"

"Wait. Wait. Let me check the expiry date."

I glared at her. She did not look at me, but reached for the cover and started looking for the date of manufacture.

"Oh god!!!"

"What happened?"

"This has expired! It should have been consumed last week!"

"Niicce. Keep it up, ma."

"Stop it. I'm already worried. Oh god, why did he buy this? Why didn't he check the expiry date? He always does. Why didn't he check it today? Already you are very ill. OHH GOD!"

I listened to my mom's groans and grumbles silently. I wondered if I should ask Amma to strangle me so that the poisonous stuff, if any, did not enter the digestive system. (Like how Parvathi strangled Nilakantha) After two minutes, I did what any sane person would've done in that situation: Forced myself to puke the entire thing. I brushed my teeth again and came out of the washroom, relieved.

Caveat Emptor, as they say.

Happy Consumer Rights Day. :)

P.S: Yes, we did show the cover later and got back our money from the shopkeeper. :)

Chapter 11: When the chandeliers fell....

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Tue, 26 Feb 2013 12:37:00 +0000

The Chennai Bloggers Club is back with its second Tablog titled "Valentine's Day One Post One Scene Relay". The story begins here. Thanks to Prashanth for introducing me here. Now, let's get on with the story.

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"You must meet this guy, Ahalya. He is my colleague and good friend. Guru. Look, there he is"-Varun explained, still waving his hand. I turned around to see and that's when it happened.

[I got up from the chair, shocked. My whole body had gone numb. I felt dizzy. I looked at Varun, but he was busy smiling and beckoning Guru.

Guru came to our table, shook hands with Varun and sat down. I was still standing, unable to make sense of what was happening around me.

"Ahalya, why don't you sit down?", asked Varun and Guru at the same time. They both looked at each other, surprised and laughed.

"Huh?"

"Hey! How do you know her? By the way, where's your fiancee, Ahalya? I totally forgot about him. Has he lost his way or something?", came the voice of Varun. He was getting impatient.

"What?!!!", asked Guru, looking at Varun.

Guru's voice broke my reverie and I became aware of the surroundings, of the reality from which I badly wanted to escape.

"I AM her fiancee. But I am surprised, Varun! How do you know Ahalya?"

"What?!!!"

It was Varun's turn to become dizzy.

"Va..Var..Varun", my voice faltered and became feeble, but loud enough for them to make out what I was trying to say.

"Varun, meet Guru, my fiancee. Guru, meet Varun, my ex-boyfriend."]

At that precise moment, the ceiling exploded. The chandeliers fell down with an almighty crash, burying Varun, Guru and Ahalya.

****

(Few hours later)

"Sir, we've checked it with them. There were twenty six people, out of which ten are dead, thirteen are serious and three are alive with minor injuries."

"Oh, man. This is f*****g bad. We need to get the CCTV footage immediately. This is the third bomb blast and I reckon all the three blasts are inter-related. Make sure that those sixteen people get the best treatment from the hospital. And now, I've to report to the Home Ministry immediately, so I'm leaving you in-charge of things here. Any emergency, call me, okay?

"Yes, Sir."

****

(Few hours later)

"Yes, Steve, come in, come in. Did you get the list of people who are dead? We need to contact their families and the respective embassies immediately."

Steve nodded and handed a sheet of paper to the Home Minister's Secretary Lara.

She scanned the list which read:

1. Victoria Black-France

2. Caroline Young-USA

3. Hazim Raffaz-India.

4. James Abri-South Africa

5. Seema Chaudhary-India.

6. Christopher Evans-Netherlands

7. Thilini Pradeep-Sri Lanka

8. Judy Folke-Sweden

9. Jerry Ash-Switzerland.

10.Guru Chandrasekhar-India

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Yes, I finished off one of the protagonists. (In case you think it's some other poor fellow!)

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Passing the tag to V.J.Eshwar, who loves reading and writing, and blogs here.

The perks of being a CBCian

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Mon, 25 Feb 2013 11:33:00 +0000

SO. I'm back to blogging after a month and half's hiatus. I've had the opportunity to enjoy the best of the things this February and I'm so grateful to many people for that. Imagine catching up with relatives you barely knew, listening to Dr.Kalam and Advani ji's illuminating addresses at the ThinkEdu Conclave, shopping for sarees in T.Nagar, having truckloads of fun at the CBC Meet AND writing an article on CBC for The Hindu: All in the same month. I couldn't have asked for a better life. Seriously.

Courtesy: Bragadeesh

So yes, The Chennai Bloggers Club organized a Book Exchange Mela cum Meet yesterday at Zha Cafe, Adyar. This Cafe's so unlike others that I've visited so far. It's wonderful place with a blend of traditional and contemporary interior decorations. Sample this: A speaker installed inside an earthen pot. Cool, isn't it?

The cafe was designed aesthetically and I loved it to death. Also, the setting was informal: We were seated on the floor, laughing our heads off at random jokes and comments. It really helped everyone to get into the action and interact with people around. A restaurant with shiny tables and chairs with everyone seated so formally couldn't have made this possible.

Courtesy: Kalyan

The food was brilliant: I had fruit juice, milkshake, sundal, sandwich, cakes and icecream. (Yes, I know you are feeling hungry already!:P) The chocolates from Prashanth and cookies from Sanjeetha deserve special mention. Food is the way to a person's heart and Sanjeetha's cookies did the job so well. If you ever get an opportunity to sample her cooking, consider yourself blessed.

The introductions by newbies and old-members were super-fun; so was the musical session which really charged up everyone. The CBC shutterbugs were in their element, clicking away to glory and getting everyone to give their best poses.

The brain-storming session on The Chennai Bloggers for Social Action brought many new perspectives on social issues to the table. I truly hope our dreams turn into reality through collective optimism and action.

Courtesy: Kalyan

The best part of yesterday's CBC Meet was not just the food or the random photo-sessions. The blissful realization that I can totally be myself in a CBC Meet and not care about anything else is the best part of being a CBCian. I can grumble about not getting my favorite number to Jothivel, demand Kalyan to click a beautiful DP for me, grab a cup of icecream from Rajiv and ask him to get another one, and make fun of Sahi, Vid, Ganga and Anand 24*7. It is a place where I can truly be at home.

Courtesy: Kalyan

To CBC and CBCians, muah.

You folks are THE best. ♥

(Extra louuve to Susan, Jothivel and Brags for organizing a kick-ass Meet. You people rock!)

PS: The CBC-group-photograph is yet to be uploaded, hence I did not post it here. Sorry folks!

55 Fiction: A new beginning

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Sat, 12 Jan 2013 12:01:00 +0000

The clock struck midnight and she opened her eyes slowly. She caught sight of anxious faces around her. As she attempted to hoist herself up, a bespectacled man near her, rushed to her aid. She gingerly placed her Jaipur Foot on the floor. It was a new year, a new beginning.
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P.S: Wanted to post this on the first of January, but couldn't. It's alright, it's never too late I guess.

13 things I plan to avoid in 2013

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Wed, 09 Jan 2013 15:51:00 +0000

A year has flown by and how! 2012 has indeed been a terrific year with regard to my personal, academic and professional life. It was also a year of many firsts. My first ever internship, my first stipend, my first blogger meet, my first blogoversary...They have given me memories aplenty; each one beautiful and fulfilling.

On the last day of every year, I sit with a notepad and pen, and jot down the resolutions for the upcoming year. It didn't matter if I followed them or not, the mere initiative made me contented! This year too, I chalked down a couple of resolutions. But before I listed out them, I prepared an exclusive database of things which I am NOT going to do this year.

After thinking long and hard, I came up with thirteen such things. Here they go-

#1

I love attending marriages and other religious ceremonies. Food, friends, fun and frolic-This is what they symbolize to me. But being a final year student, everyone I meet these days, keeps asking about my future plans so often that I become weary of answering them. And some wish to know why I had decided to opt for that course instead of this. Frankly, it is boring to hear the same set of questions and giving out the same answers. So during the first few months of 2013, I'm NOT going to attend them, even if it means sacrificing awesome food. I've had enough. (Of food and questions, that is.)

#2

There are a handful of activities that I do during lectures. Playing cow-bull, writing poetry, watching crows sitting on the window sill, day-dreaming, passing notes to friends, checking my watch and reading novels under the desk. (Note to readers: Please do NOT believe a word of this if you are a Professor of mine. I'm just kidding.)

So yeah, I do pretty much everything except listening. I'm planning to cut down on them and do some actual listening in the class. It's after all the final semester of the final year; I might not get a chance to attend such awe-inspiring, mind-blowing lectures of my super-smart Professors. (Note to readers: If you are a Professor of mine, then give me bonus grades for the next internal test. I'm NOT kidding.)

(And FYI, Cow-Bull is a wonderful game which tests your vocabulary. It is a great way to cope up with boredom especially during class hours. If you happen to be a member of CBC, I'll teach you this game when we meet.)

#3

I have a Galaxy Y mobile phone. Yes, it has a beautiful touch-screen and I totally love it. Also, I purchased it at an economical and discounted rate.

My phone has a nickname: Karunanidhi.

No, it does not have a yellow panel. Or Tamil as the operational language. But it, I believe, is highly resilient (*Touchwood*) and has a longer life span. Now tell me, isn't my phone aptly (nick)named?

But unlike the great leader after whom it was named, it does not have an immediate successor. So, I hope to avoid man-handling my phone and promise to take better care of it.

#4

The 36th Chennai Book Fair is coming up. But no, I'm not going to go. Even if someone volunteers to sponsor for all my indulgences.

Despite being a book-lover, I'm really not going to check out the Fair this year. Because, I have heaps and heaps of books locked away in my book-shelf. Fiction, non-fiction, self help, poetry...So many books and very little time to read. And books are still pouring in, thanks to the book reviews that I've been doing here.

Until I finish reading all my books, I'm NOT going to buy any. Except when it is autographed by JKR.

#5

Diaries are always special. They can be your close confidants and will give you the space and comfort to pour your heart out. I've been writing diaries for a couple of years and they are extra-special in my case because the first ever article I wrote for The Hindu was about my diary. But I also have an unfortunate habit. I stop writing in my diary mid-year and it would remain blank for the rest of the year. No, seriously.

But on the bright side, I have my blog and people around me to confide in, whenever I want to. Yes, there are a few things that I wouldn't want to share with others or post in my blog, but I am not going to take that as a reason to start writing in a diary again. No, definitely not. I'm NOT going to leave another diary half-blank.

#6

My wardrobe and I share a love-hate relationship. The moment my clothes come out of the wash, I fold them neatly and keep them in. But after two to three days, the entire wardrobe becomes a total mess. I am unable to fathom the reason behind this. I mean, I would have cleaned it up on day one. But it ends up looking like a horrible hay-stack on day three. I think an eerie, invisible creature visits my home at night and probably messes up my tidy wardrobe.

The solution? Am NOT going to fold my clothes meticulously at all. I'm just going to throw them in. Frankly, I hate to waste time bothering about this. I have much better work to do.

#7

The Pongal season is round the corner. I guess you are now hopping into boutiques near your home. But am going to give shopping a miss this season.

I'm becoming slimmer with every passing day (Honest, no kidding!) much to the surprise and annoyance of my friends and foes, respectively. The clothes which I purchased last year have all become loose-fitting and need to be re-sized. Hence, I'm NOT going to give into my temptation for at least the next three months. Hopefully, I'd look like the size-zero Kareena by then. ;)

#8

I've always admired and envied people with long nails. I mean, it looks absolutely beautiful and adds so much of character and charm to your personality. (The nail polish is immaterial to me here.) Unfortunately, I've not been blessed with such enviable nails. They are so short in my case. But I did not give up and I grew long nails few months ago. (Long, in my dictionary. Not by normal human standards.) And I was so happy. Until I found scratch marks and blood stains on my forearm the next day.

I've learnt my lesson and I'm NOT going to grow long nails again. No way.

#9

A huge, smug smile has of-late, been brightening up my face when someone mentions that I've become slimmer. But the effort that I put into it would go down the drain unless I forego something. No, am not talking about a cruel diet regime where the only things I consume would be vegetables and fruits. No, am talking about a thing that is more harsher than any ruthless diet control system in the world; something which is wonderful when practiced and impossible to forego.

Yes, am talking about sleeping in the afternoons. I wonder how many of you actually do it, because I have been doing it ever since I joined college. I come home after 1.30 pm and sleep snugly under my quilt for two to three hours. It is the most fabulous feeling in the whole world, I tell you.

But sleeping during afternoons are extremely bad for our health (Apart from leading to weight gains); it can cause a host of problems. Sigh, of all things in the world, I've convinced myself to NOT sleep in the afternoon.

#10

We spend most of our lives convincing people of our thoughts and actions. Well, that is how I spent my life all these years. But at a particular point in my life, I did realize that it is not important to do this, unless the person is a stakeholder in my actions.

Because, the only person I need to convince is myself. So, I'm NOT going to spend the rest of my life convincing people about my actions when they don't even have a stake in it!

#11

The conscience is perhaps, the most powerful of all things in this world. Except the Supreme Force, of course. It listens to your ramblings, guides you in times of dilemma, protects you during danger. Without it, we are as good as dead.

But sometimes, we do not listen to the voice. The voice and call of the conscience. Ignoring it can spell recipe for disaster. I've ignored this voice once during my life time. It was probably the darkest period of my life. (That the experience made me resilient is another story.) I've learnt to NOT ignore this conscience and land in a regrettable situation in the future.

#12

Blogging has done a whole lot of good to me. I've met many wonderful people, interacted with them, improved my writing skills and evolved as a better person. But above all, I've expanded my horizons. I have learnt to embrace new ideas and opinions. I've learnt to view things from a fresh perspective. This in turn gives me new ideas for my blog posts. I write them down in my blog and save them immediately. The result: I have close to 50 drafts in my blog now.

Because, the enthusiasm in writing them down does not extend to publishing the same.

This year, I'm NOT going to let this happen. I'm going to publish all my drafts, whether or not they look insane or out-dated. Or delete them.

#13

Friends are the family we choose, said someone on Facebook. How true!

But in this age where several mediums are available to interact with people, I've lost touch with a few friends of mine. Admittedly, I spend many hours on social media, but I don't use them much to remain in touch with a couple of my buddies. Not much, just a "Hi" or "Wassup" every now and then could mean so much and can add value to the bonds we cherish.

So this year, am NOT going to let the friendships I share with such wonderful people fade away. I promise to stay in touch and check on people who matter to me.
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P.S: Yep, this is the first post of 2013 :) Belated happy new year, readers :)
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This has been submitted for a write-a-post contest conducted by The Chennai Bloggers Club. The CBC is a Facebook group where bloggers with a Chennai connection interact with each other. This contest has been sponsored by Cuponation. It is India's largest coupon portal, specially designed to meet the needs of all online shoppers.

A lesser-known facet of Chennai

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Mon, 31 Dec 2012 02:59:00 +0000

Chennai.

This beautiful city symbolizes so many things-Marina Beach, Madras Bashai, Kollywood, Sundal, Carnatic Music, Madisar-Clad Maamis, Chepauk stadium, Filter Coffee....So many wonderful and endearing facets of Chennai.

Chennai is my birthplace and beloved hometown. It can mean different things to different people. To me, Chennai meant warmth. Comfort. Safety. Until 30th December 2009.

Yes, this city is no longer the haven that it used to be. I don't feel the air of warmth and protection in my motherland any more. I feel scared and panicky. Insecure and hopeless. Ever since my aunt passed away in a dreadful traffic accident on 30th December three years ago, I have been living in a state of fury and disgust. Fury at the driver who crushed my aunt to death. Disgust at Chennaities who drive recklessly.

According to statistics in the recently released report titled "Accidental Death and Suicides in India" (ADSI 2011), prepared by the National Crime Records Bureau, Chennai has recorded the highest number of road accidents. The number is a staggering 9,845 cases in the year 2011. This is the highest among 53 cities in the country last year, and has almost doubled from 2010 when 5,123 road accidents were recorded. (Source: http://ibnlive.in.com/)

This data tells me that my fury and disgust is perfectly justified. This city is indeed the traffic-accident-capital of the country.

I've been cycling from my fifth grade and I've been driving my scooty for a year. Every day, when I take my vehicle out to go somewhere, I pray wholeheartedly to the Lord that I should return home safely. My family cannot afford to lose another member to a traffic accident.

But will my prayer protect me ALL THE TIME?

Unless Chennai motorists learn to drive with care, caution and sense, unless they learn to not drive recklessly, unless they learn to value every human life, unless they understand the pain of the family of a victim whose life was snatched away due to a man's unpardonable mistake, I cannot be safe. I can only pray.

In memory of my beloved aunt, whose third death anniversary falls today. RIP Chithi.

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This post is a part of the Chennai Bloggers Club Tablog, where the CBC members write about Chennai and what it means to them. This tag was preceded by Ganga Bharani, my first ever buddy in the Blogosphere. I now pass this tag to Gitanjali Naidu, who calls herself as one happy thing who scribbles at http://rhapsodic-xana.blogspot.com, among other things :)

55 Fiction: Of silent struggles and suffering

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Sat, 29 Dec 2012 16:00:00 +0000

Credits: Ram.N

My eyes were stinging, my back was aching badly, my legs seemed ready to collapse any moment. I felt dizzy and exhausted, thirsty and ravenous. I wanted to halt for a couple of minutes, but I wasn't allowed to. Life has been cruel for the past three years.

It's tough, living with two horns.

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This has been submitted for a photo-post contest conducted by The Chennai Bloggers Club. The CBC is a Facebook group where bloggers with a Chennai connection interact with each other. This contest has been sponsored by Cuponation. It is India's largest coupon portal, specially designed to meet the needs of all online shoppers.

Cafeteria chronicles

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Sun, 02 Dec 2012 05:04:00 +0000

Ever since I gave away my ladybird cycle to my maid's daughter, I have been travelling to my college with my sister. She would drop me off in our scooty and go to her college, and would pick up me in the afternoon on her way back home. Since we both had the same timings at college, it was the most feasible plan we could come up with.

Since it takes around forty five minutes for her to reach my college in the afternoon, I usually wait in the cafeteria. My friends who have boring CA/CWA classes in the evenings leave for their classes the moment the bell rings. That leaves me alone at the cafeteria.

Everything in life teaches us something, doesn't it? My afternoons spent at cafeteria are no different. I've learnt a host of things there. Here they go-

1. Eavesdropping:

Eavesdropping is an art. And a very difficult art at that. You need a lot of practice and patience to become a master at it. And now, after all those afternoons at the cafeteria, I can proudly say that I am one. I can now eavesdrop into the conversations of others, be it students or teachers (Oh yeah!) while pretending to eat my lunch and can emerge undetected. However, my sharp and well honed hearing senses go haywire the moment a lecture begins during the class hours. Well, there are a few glorious exceptions to everything, right?

2. Self control:

They say, self control is the key to success in life. And I have learnt it the hard way. Yes, sitting there at the cafeteria and looking at delicious and absolutely mouth watering vegetable puffs, samosas, chaat items, different varieties of soup, ice creams etc and not running to the counter to grab them requires a HUGE self discipline. See, that's what I meant by learning the hard way. For all gastronomy freaks like me, here's a tip:

Courtesy: Pictures

A. Whenever you get that irresistible urge to munch something in the cafeteria, open your purse and count the cash in it. (Not applicable to those who carry plastic money).

B. When you look at the cash, the temptation automatically subsides.

If B doesn't happen, then repeat A. After three attempts, you would definitely succeed. (Note: Proven theory; tested on self)

3. Fending off mosquitoes:

I don't like mosquitoes. (Honestly, who does?!!) But the time I spend at the cafeteria is the time when mosquitoes come out of nowhere and start sucking my blood. Now, I have certain principles in my life. I don't eat non-veg. I don't hurt dogs. I don't make fun of buffaloes. You get the drift...I don't kill mosquitoes. So, what's the alternative, you ask me?

You have to keep moving your legs so that you don't give a chance for the mosquitoes to sit on you and bite you. The trick here is to do it nonchalantly, so that people don't know what you are up to.

A tip: Plug in your earphones and then move your legs subtly, so that even if someone catches you shaking your legs like an idiot, they would simply assume that you are listening to some hip-hop music.

Coming up next: "How to eavesdrop without detection?"

The EKSI moment

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Mon, 26 Nov 2012 16:08:00 +0000

I think someone has jinxed my management accounts exam. Because, how on Earth do I goof up every time I take this exam?

*Flashback*

It was a Friday, yes, I remember so well. It was the day of my management accounts exam. I'd finished all other papers and this was the last exam. Mind you, not just another internal test, but my semester exam. I was preparing feverishly, but a little excited deep down, what with that last exam high and everything.

I went for a bath, got ready, gobbled down something, hastily crammed all my study materials in my bag and left for college. I had reached my examination hall sooner than I thought I would. I saw my friend's message, asking me to come to room number 18, my examination hall.

I climbed the stairs, walked straight and entered the room. It was my old classroom, the one we used in our first year. I liked it better than the other classrooms in my college because it was quite airy, but more so because 18 is my lucky number.

"Ah, lucky! So, I would do this exam well. Definitely well. And then, I would enjoy an uninterrupted holiday for two weeks", I found myself thinking gleefully.

I settled down and did some last minute revision with my friend. Soon, the invigilator came in and instructed us to get ready. I dug inside my bag for the stationery and went outside to put away my bag. When I returned to my desk, I saw my friend, seated right behind me, keeping her pens, pencils, hall ticket and other stuff in her desk.

My heart skipped a beat as I realized my mistake. My huge, irrevocable mistake.

I'd forgotten to bring my calculator and ID card. Horrors, horrors, horrors.

My whole body had gone numb, my mouth slightly open and my stunned mind faraway from the classroom.

"Sowmya?", my friend called me.

I took a deep breath and tried to summon enough energy to reply.

"Didn't bring calculator and ID card", I whispered in a faint, weak voice.

She looked shocked but composed herself quickly and said, "You have a tiny solar calculator, don't you? In your bag?"

I nodded as I remembered it. Yes, I had a solar calculator in my bag, though I never used it. I always preferred the big, brownish one, as it was convenient and lucky. Lucky, lucky...that was almost an unendurable thought now....

I ran outside to fetch my solar calculator, my last, tiny hope. Thankfully, it was still there, deep asleep in my bag. I took it out with an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude towards my buddy who suggested it.

But what about the ID card? There was no substitute or alternative waiting in the wings! There was nothing I could do. Nothing at all.

I silently marched up to my invigilator and explained the situation to her. She gave me a stern look and asked me to go to room number 11, the Controller of Examinations to obtain permission. I looked at her pleadingly and told her that it was the first time I had forgotten to bring the ID card. But she refused to budge.

I had no option but to go to room number 11. I climbed down the stairs, tears stinging my eyes, inwardly cursing my own stupidity and wondering why everything happened only to me.

Room number eleven was crowded as I went in. I approached the bunch of professors standing there, who were discussing something merrily.

"Excuse me, ma'm?", I said, cautiously.

"Yes?" responded the one in a bright yellow sari.

"Ma'm, I didn't bring my ID card today. So I wondered if you could give me permission to write my exam...", I said in a gloomy voice.

"Ohho. Well, just a minute!" said the yellow Prof.

She went to another professor and whispered something in her ear. The other professor wore a simple pink sari with matching accessories.

After a minute, both of them came to me. The pink Prof said, "Well, as you have lost your ID-"

"NO! No ma'm, I didn't lose my ID card. I just didn't bring it today. I bring it everyday, but forgot to bring it today", I said, very slowly and clearly.

"Oh. In that case, you should go and get a permission letter from your HOD; she is in room number 24. Then you can write the exam."

"Now?" I asked, horrified. The exam was about to start within five minutes!

"Yes, yes, go and find her" she replied coolly and went to join the discussion there.

I groaned. I had no energy left. I dragged my feet and climbed the stairs.

Suddenly, I felt wide awake.

"What if the HOD wasn't there in room number 24? What if she had gone somewhere else?"

I panicked and ran upstairs, as fast as I could. As I was about to turn left, I came face to face with someone.

It was my HOD. Thank goodness!

"What happened, Sowmya?"

"I didn't bring my ID card, ma'm!", I panted. "They told me to obtain your permission to write the exam."

"Oh, alright. Let's go to your classroom, I'll ask your invigilator to permit you."

She walked ahead. I was numbly surprised at her readiness in granting permission. I soon caught up with her, and we went to my examination hall. I looked at the number 18, as I walked in. My lucky number. Lucky...

My HOD went to the invigilator, told her that I was her student and requested her to give a paper and pen. She then wrote something on it and handed it to the invigilator. The invigilator then nodded at her. I thanked my HOD, who smiled at me and walked away.

As I approached the desk, I looked around and saw my friends writing their answers with utmost concentration.

I sat down and found the question paper and answer sheets on my desk. The invigilator had already kept them ready for me. How sweet! I looked up from my desk to thank her. But what I saw made my voice die in my throat.

She crushed the sheet of paper given by my HOD and threw it into the dustbin.

EKSI ?

Book Review: The Bankster-Worth your bucks

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Sun, 18 Nov 2012 14:51:00 +0000

Courtesy: Goodreads

I thought it was a bit of overstatement when The Wall Street Journal called Ravi Subramanium, the "John Grisham of banking". But this author proved me wrong with his latest book, The Bankster, which undoubtedly is a gripping and riveting financial thriller.

A few pages into the book, I wondered for a minute whether it was about bankers cheating their spouses and the corporate games that they play to stay on top of the professional ladder. However, The Bankster is definitely not about that. It is an intricate tale of financial deception happening across continents, narrated through three parallel stories set in Angola, Kerala and Mumbai.

The book opens with a CIA agent exchanging arms for blood diamonds at Angola and then takes us through the story of Krishna Menon, who had almost lost his son in the Chernobyl disaster and is determinedly protesting against the Trikakulam Nuclear Power Plant (TNPP) commissioned by the Central Government at Devikulam, Kerala. At Mumbai, where the Greater Boston Global Bank (GB2) is situated, it is business as usual, until calamity strikes with the death of three of its employees.

The story travels at a slow pace for quite some time and one wonders when the promised thriller elements would make an entry. Right after the Spencer's Store credit card episode in Mumbai, the story gears up fabulously. However, things do become predictable and we are able to identify the culprit behind the chaos happening at GB2 or so we think, and that's exactly where the author springs up a few surprises and changes the entire course of the story. A few examinations, investigations and interrogations later, the mastermind behind all the deception and deceit is revealed.

The Bankster bears all the hallmarks of a well penned story. Kudos to the author for crafting an engrossing tale and tying all loose ends in the last few pages of the book to perfection. The high point of the story is its climax. It reveals the mystery behind the deaths of the bankers and exposes the real "bankster" in a thoroughly shocking way, befitting a thriller.

There are many characters in The Bankster; there is no specific protagonist or antagonist. Every character, event, transaction and conversation in this book has a profound significance in the end. A good example would be when Harshita fusses over the Wifi connection at CCD. No one would have expected it to be a be an important lead for Karan to solve the mystery later. And speaking of Karan, he is a press reporter and former employee of GB2, and the one who gets to the bottom of the case to nab the culprit. Assisting him are Kavya (His girlfriend) and Hemant, both employees of GB2.

The ivory smuggling case involving Krishna Menon is a necessary episode, but it seems to be a rather confusing and hastily narrated one. Because, after reading the book, one wonders if Krishna was the real defaulter or not, given his sincerity and patriotism.

Nevertheless, The Bankster is a compelling book, which weaves an intriguing tale of arms trafficking, illegal banking and a lot more. These days, when books which have nothing but crass love stories, written in the name of "contemporary romance" are published in India, it is heartening to see a decent work of fiction from an Indian author. The Bankster is a good example of the fact that, a book needs a strong story-line much more than an intensive social media marketing strategy to become a best seller.

This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com . Participate now to get free books!
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Publisher: Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd. (First published in 2012)

Price: Rs.250

Number of pages: 358

The great coriander quest

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Sat, 17 Nov 2012 03:41:00 +0000

It was just another evening, pleasant and refreshing. I had woken up from my afternoon nap and was wondering how to while away the next few hours.

"Sowmya?"

I heard my mom calling. She was sitting in the couch in the other room and I went to her.

"Sowmya, could you do me a favour? Can you go and buy kothamalli (Coriander leaves) for me, please?"

"Oh. Okay. I'll go now"

I picked up my handbag, mobile and went to get my scooty. The air caressed my face as I drove at my own pace (Wow, that rhymed!). I stopped at the nearby vegetable shop and asked the guy in there for coriander leaves.

Courtesy: Picture

"No, we don't have it now. Why don't you come tomorrow morning?"

"Sure, thanks"

I left and decided to try the next vegetable shop. It had everything except coriander leaves. A little annoyed, I went to the next shop. Believe me, I must have gone to at least five to six shops in the main road, but unfortunately, all of them gave me the same answer.

I dialled my mom's number and asked her irritably, "Maa, not even a single shop has coriander leaves!! They say it would be available only tomorrow morning. I'll go tomorrow maa, pleaasse!!"

"Oh no, no Sowmya, please go to Murugan vegetable shop and check there. They always have enough stock of those leaves. Please?"

I was weary, but didn't have the heart to refuse. I started to drive again. Suddenly, from nowhere, came a motorbike and was about to hit me. Thankfully, I braked at the right moment and avoided an accident. I threw an angry look at him and drove further, wondering whether he was drunk (He looked like it). After a few minutes, I spotted another shop on my left. I came to a halt, my thoughts still on that idiotic driver.

"If it is not here, then I'll go to that Murugan shop", I found myself thinking. I got down and went in.

"Kothamalli irukkaa?" ("Do you have coriander leaves?")

The shop had gone very quite, all of a sudden. I realized that everyone was looking at me.

"Emma...", he burst out laughing, "idhu pazha kadai!!!" ("This is a fruit shop!!")

"Enna?!!" ("What?!!")

I looked around and found myself surrounded by pomegranates, apples and bananas. Oh gawwd! How on Earth did I end up here?!!!

"Oh....Aamam, illa naa....naa" ("Ohh, yes, no I...I"), blood rushed to my cheeks and I started to stammer, "naaa kavanikkala..." ("I didn't notice")

"Pakkathu kadailla kelumma" ("Try the next shop"), he said, chortling.

"Oh seri...." ("Oh okay..."), I muttered, still embarrassed.

Needless to say, I did find coriander leaves in the next shop. I drove home, wondering where I'd got that uncanny ability to land myself in awkward situations from.

A retrospective

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Fri, 09 Nov 2012 16:13:00 +0000

I wrote a lengthy "Diwali Special" blog post last year and to my pleasant surprise, it was selected as a Tangy Tuesday Pick by Blogadda. You can read it here.

I was reading that post just now and in retrospect, I find, with a rush of fierce joy, that I have indeed made a difference to the world we live in.

In that post titled "The Diwali Message", I wrote about how we should all take a moment to give a thought to burning issues such as poverty, illiteracy, global warming, corruption, harassment and bullying etc. I now realize that I did not stop and think about these for a minute, as I ought to have done. But I just realized that I have unconsciously done a few good deeds, of which I can be glad.

Firstly, let's take the issue of poverty. In my post, I said that we could donate whatever we can, to the needy and deserving. I vividly remember cleaning up my messy wardrobe a few months ago and finding a huge pile of clothes that were quite old and ill-fitting. I asked my mom to hand it over to a few labourers working at a construction site in my locality. My mom obliged the same.

Secondly, I addressed the issue of illiteracy in my post. I wrote that we could take tuitions for kids, who do not have access to education. I also expressed my view that, apart from educating them, we could use that opportunity to enhance our teaching skills. Last year after Diwali, I started taking tuitions for a few students. One of them came from a family with limited means, so I gave her tutions at concessional rates. And I definitely improved my teaching skills through these classes and they certainly helped me perform better during my summer internship. (Where I taught kids again!)

I also wrote about global warming and greenhouse effect in my blog post and said that we could follow the "Go Green" ideology to cope up with the environmental crisis. Well, I have certainly reduced the consumption of electricity by switching off fans and tube lights when they are not in use. I do not throw away used pens but reuse them by buying new refills. I did not burst crackers at all, last Diwali. I am hoping to do the same this Diwali too.

I have written this post not to brag or boast about the things I have done, but to just put across my view and belief that we don't have to be Medha Patkars or Anna Hazares (or any activist for that matter) to bring about changes in this world. We all have immense potential within us to make a difference in this Earth, however miniscule it may be. We all have the power to do our bit for humanity and make this world a better place to live in.

Here's wishing you all a very happy and safe diwali :)

Courtesy: Internet

Movie Review: Maatraan

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Fri, 12 Oct 2012 16:40:00 +0000

Dual roles seem to be a lucky charm for actor Suriya. His fifth dual act as Akilan and Vimalan in the movie Maatraan is par excellence. However, this fourth directorial venture of cinematographer-turned-director K.V.Anand disappoints the viewer on many occasions.

Maatran, an AGS Entertainment production, starring Kajal Agarwal as the lead lady Anjali, Sachin Khedekar as Suriya's dad Ramachandran, is the much anticipated tale of conjoined twins Akilan and Vimalan.

The twins' dad Ram is a genetic scientist, whose energy cum health drink for children is taking the market by storm. A female foreign reporter, however, digs deeper into the business, in an attempt to unearth the ingredients of the drink. What follows is a sequence of shocking revelations, wherein the potential danger of the drink is exposed. The evidence which she gathers, sets the stage for the twins to solve the mystery behind the dangerous drink.

Suriya, who essays the characters Akilan and Vimalan with brilliance, is undoubtedly the superstar of the movie. His portrayal as the boisterous Akilan and unpretentious Vimalan is the high point of Maatraan. Kajal, who was believed to be just a glam doll cum love interest of the twins, surprisingly has an equally important role throughout the movie. Her performance is definitely noteworthy.

Cinematography is one of the highlights of the movie. S.Sounder Rajan's camera captures Ukraine and India with equal elan. The stunts are a fan's delight, the ones set in the amusement park deserve special mention. Harris Jayaraj's music lacks lustre, with an exception of the foot-tapping number "Theeyae Theeyae". However, the BGM makes up for this disappointment.

The first half of the movie is brimming with humor, thanks to the excellent vibe between Akilan and Vimalan. Three cheers to the director for capturing the everyday life of the conjoined twins with a touch of realism. The action packed second half, though laced with surprises, is quite lengthy and has few logical loopholes. The climax is a little cliched and artificial, with Ramachandran disclosing the far-fetched experiments during the twins' birth. Also, it is a tad reminiscent of Suriya's earlier outing Yezhaam Arivu.

Bottomline:

Maatraan is worth the wait for all Suriya fans. For the rest of the crowd, it could be just another entertainer with the usual K.V.Anand elements-A song in a disco, a so called twist in the climax and a happy ending for the lead couple etc etc.

A day in the life of a cynophobic

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Wed, 10 Oct 2012 11:09:00 +0000

The bell rang shrilly, signalling the end of the class. I felt hugely relieved, for the day which had come to an end at college had been nothing short of agony-Professors droning on and on about complex theories and giving us assignments to work on.

I bid a cheery farewell to my friends and messaged my sister to pick me up. She texted back saying that she couldn't come as she was unwell and asked me to take an auto back home. But I decided against it, as an autowala would generally ask sixty bucks to take me home (I can almost hear you thinking-"Can't you bargain?" No folks, I can't. I totally suck at bargaining, despite giving my best shot at it every time.) and I felt it was an unnecessary waste of my dad's hard-earned money.

Like a total miser, I decided to walk home (On a blazing hot day, I wouldn't dare try such a stunt. But fortunately, the weather was quite pleasant that day), save money and burn some calories. I walked for more than twenty minutes. My home was still a few streets away. And that was when I met them.

It was a deserted street, with no soul in sight, except them. As I walked forward, they stole a sideward glance at me. I mustered my courage and continued walking. And without warning, they ran forward and encircled me. I was numb with shock and fear. My whole body was paralysed and I couldn't even think of running away. At that precise moment, a horn screeched in the vicinity.

An auto rushed onto the street and stopped beside me. Lord Vishnu had come to save Gajendra. The driver got out of the auto. Upon seeing him, they gave a last glare and ran away.

"Where d'you want to go, Madam?"

His voice brought me back to the reality.

"Wha?" I stammered and looked around. My would-be attackers were no longer visible in the street. It took me a minute to come to terms with the truth: That I was whole and alive.

"Madam?" he called again, in an uncertain tone, as though worried about my sanity.

"What? Oh..nothing nothing..I was..I was just looking. (His face became more worried with every passing minute).

I composed myself and then gave him the address. He asked me thirty bucks and I agreed. As soon as I got into the auto, he sped off. I looked out of the auto, the truth sinking in fully: I was safe and I was not dead.

I looked at the driver and realized that he had saved my life.

"Thanks anna" I said abruptly, my voice brimming with gratitude.

"No need to thank me. By the way, are you afraid of dogs?" he asked with a laugh, as he drove.

"You have no idea" I said darkly and paid him off, as the auto reached my destination.

Submitted for the Saarang Writing Awards 2013.

A lesson well learnt!

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Sat, 29 Sep 2012 05:42:00 +0000

I wish someone told me that 27.09.2012 would be an unforgettable day in my life.
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27.09.2012

When the morning dawned nice and bright, I woke up excitedly.

The reason? JKR's next book, "The Casual Vacancy" would see the light of the day and I would finally be able to lay my hands on it. (Review coming up real soon, readers!) With that thought, I went ahead with my exam preparation.

Yes, I had my mid semester exam on Income Tax that day and I woke up at four to study. I scanned all my notes, bullied my brain to remember those endless formulae, schedules and exemptions from tax, that I believe exist, only to torture students.

It was 7.45 am and I had finished a major chunk of my course material. My time was up and I had to get ready for college. The examination was at nine and I had planned to start from home at 8.20. (My college is near my home and it takes just ten minutes to reach the college)

Just when I got up to take a bath, my phone rang.

"Who the hell was calling me now? It would get late!", I thought angrily.

I took the call and it was my friend at the other end.

"Hey, did you study common size income statement?"

"But income statement comes in Management accounts!" I responded irritably.

"Yes, that's why I am asking now"

"But today we have Income Tax exam!"

"WHATTT? NO! We have Management accounts only!"

"No way. It's IT today. I copied the timetable correctly. We have IT today."

"Let me check with others and call you, then."

"Okay."

I hung up, with a sense of panic. It was IT today, I was so sure. 200% sure. I'd bet my stipend on it. I took a deep breath and went to pack my bag before bathing.

The phone rang again. It was my friend.

"Sowmya, it's Management Accounts only. You must have copied the timetable wrongly. Anyway listen, don't panic now. Just read ratio analysis, marginal costing, and fund flow statement and come. Mam told us that these questions will be asked in 15 mark section. So, just read them, okay? You'll pass. Sowmya, are you there? Hey?"

"Yeah, I am. Yeah. Okay."

"Just study ratios, fund flow okay. It'll be fine. Don't worry"

"Yeah. Right. Bye"

I was only half aware of my surroundings. A wave of terror and panic had taken over me.

"What am I going to do? What will I write in the paper? I don't even know the formulae of ratios fully! I was terrible at accounts and there was no way I can write this exam! May be I fall and break my leg. Or may be it would rain today and they would declare it a holiday. Or may be....." My brain had officially gone crazy.

My sister was in the same room, getting ready for her college.

"Hey! What happened?"

Her voice broke through my stupor.

"Wha? Oh yeah, I thought today was IT. But it's Management accounts. Fine, now let me study."

I saw her stunned face from the corner of my eye, took a deep breath and dived into my bag for the accounts book. I couldn't study much within ten minutes. I packed my bag, went for a bath, got ready and heeded to the college. By the time I reached the exam hall, it was 8.40am. I scanned through the book for anything important, anything I could cling to, anything which could be my lifebelt. But miracles happen only in the reel life and in fantasy books.

The exam inviligilator came and asked us to put away our books and bags. She handed over the question paper, which would lead to my doom.

Needless to say, I screwed up the exam big time. I would never forget this day in my life. Not because I had messed up my test up so badly, but because I had finally learnt that haste defnitely makes waste. Life's lessons might be cruel, but in the long run, they turn out to be the best.

Isn't experience the best teacher, after all?

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Book Review: Rainy Days

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Wed, 05 Sep 2012 12:32:00 +0000

There are only two stories in this world.

1. Love stories

2. All other stories

Love stories have a certain magic in them. The best of those books and stories never cease to recreate that magic, never fail to captivate us. They tug at our heart-strings every time we pick them up from our bookshelf and wipe off a speck of dust from them. This unfathomable attraction is what makes them the most loved genre of all time.

But love stories, if not penned well, can have the monstrous potential of giving a thorough head-ache to the reader throughout the reading process, apart from failing miserably in the publishing world.

With that prelude, let me get down to reviewing "Rainy Days" by Samarth Prakash.

Rainy Days is just another, regular love story which we might have heard, read or seen somewhere. Raghav is the protagonist, who works at RS3, an online platform which showcases stories that people need to know. He runs RS3 along with his best friends at the Garden city of India.

One day, he goes to watch an India-Australia match at Bangalore. But as luck would have it, the match is called off due to rain. Just when the entire crowd waits for the rain to subside, Raghav notices a pretty girl sitting next to him. He strikes up a conversation with her, only to learn that she is Megha from Pune. The rain continues and Megha leaves the stadium, informing Raghav that an urgent work awaits her. Raghav, who is shocked by her sudden departure, follows her from the stadium. He finds out her workplace and comes to the same locality for the next two days. Finally, he meets her on the third day. After some persuasion, he takes her to a nearby restaurant. And then begins the story of how they fell in love.

But things are not so rosy in Raghav's life. On her birthday, after the celebration, Megha gives Raghav a letter, asking him to read it when he reaches home. Raghav reads the letter and finds out that Megha has left him for good and is heeding to Pune, to sort out the problems in her family. She wants to give their relationship a break and promises him that she will meet him at their favorite lake in Bangalore on the same day after five years. Then comes in the depression mode for Raghav. He weeps for his lost love but distracts himself by working hard and makes his enterprise RS3 a famous website.

Megha stays true to her promise and meets Raghav after five years. But the story doesn't end there like a fairy-tale romance. Megha is married (!), her life is full of chaos and she wants Raghav to sort it out (!) What was that chaos all about? What happens to Raghav? Get your own copy if you really want to find it out.

As far as the plot is concerned, Rainy Days has nothing new to offer. It has all the ingredients of a typical love story, but is not at all in the league of a "true" love story. It is full of cliches and stereotypes (Like drawing parallels between nature, rains, life and love) and turns philosophical on numerous occasions.

The tragedy in the climax is very artificial, unreal and unsurprising because the reader knows all along that Megha's love for Raghav is not true. Also, most of the incidents in the story are so predictable. There are only two characters in Rainy Days-Raghav and Megha (Raghav's friends and parents have no substantial role in the story) and this makes the narrative very monotonous. There is hardly any interesting characterization in the book. I truly wish the author had fused Raghav's professional life and love life intelligently and created a conflict in the story to make it exciting.

Bottomline: Rainy Days is yet another run-of-the-mill love story. Let it be your last resort on a really boring day.
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Name: Rainy Days

Author: Samarth Prakash

Genre: Fiction

Publisher: Good Times Book Private Limited (First published in India in 2012)

ISBN: 938062945-6

Price: Rs.125

Coalgate and Cricket

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Fri, 31 Aug 2012 13:05:00 +0000

Our country seems to be in the news often and for all the wrong reasons. Yes, the Coalgate scam has crowned India as the queen of corruption. Wikipedia calls this scam as "the mother of all scams", given its enormity and the huge loss it has caused to the exchequer, which is around Rs.1,86,000 crore apparently.

In fact I was surprised to see a separate Wikipedia page, which provides a complete list of all the scams and scandals in India. (You can read it here.) But, given India's history of producing few unscrupulous politicians, I should not be surprised at all. Infact, I should have been expecting it. But I am not Trelawney or Firenze!

A silver lining in this otherwise dark cloud is our recent world cup win. Yes, our Indian Cricket Team, led by Unmukt Chand, has won the Under-19 Cricket World Cup and has given us something huge to cheer about. Despite the fact that we live in a country infested with poverty and corruption, we can at least be delighted that we have proved our might in cricketing circles and now have the junior and senior World Cup with us.

But, this happiness seem to be short-lived, at least for me.

Unmukt Chand, who is a student of St.Stephen's college, failed in his second semester examination due to inadequate attendance. The Union HRD Minister Kapil Sibal is trying to help Chand in this regard, it seems. While hoping that he will be given permission to appear for his semester examination, my mind refuses not to dwell on another issue: The level of patronage we extend to our sportsmen.

Whenever a student represents his/her college or varsity in various competitions, symposiums etc, the student in question is immediately given an OD (On Duty) by his/her Department i.e, he/she is given attendance for that particular day. If it is the case, why is St.Stephen's University refusing to give Chand the required attendance, when he is representing the country in an international cricket event? And Chand hasn't merely participated and returned to India. He has (Along with his team) secured a well-deserved win for the nation! In such a case, it would be highly unjust to refuse to give the required attendance for this cricketer.

This issue doesn't end here. Many schools and universities in India still don't motivate and support budding sports-persons, but merely taunt them for their average performance in academics, instead of extending a helping hand to them whenever they are in need of financial, academic or emotional support.

We miserably fail to extend patronage to our sports-persons when it matters the most. This is one of the reasons why we won just six medals in the 2012 Olympics. We force our sportsmen/women to choose between sports and academics. How fair is that? Why don't we let them excel in sports as well as academics? Is it too much to ask for?

Chand's issue might be a minuscule one to many, but I believe that such minuscule issues are the ones that contribute to the bigger picture and ultimately lead to India's failure in many sporting events. Unless there is a change in our attitude, we shouldn't complain about not winning medals in the Olympics or any other famous sporting event, for that matter.

Book Review: The Orange Hangover

noreply@blogger.com (Sowmya Swaminathan) — Fri, 24 Aug 2012 16:32:00 +0000

The Orange Hangover by Rahul Saini is one of the few refreshing books I have read in the past few months. I usually don't judge a book by its cover. But look at this one-It is bright and likeable. So, I plunged ahead into the book earnestly. And thankfully, it didn't disappoint me at all.

Rishabh Suri is an architect who works at Gurgaon. The story starts off when Rishabh (I'll call him Rish from now on, okay?) is going through a rough phase in his life. The relationship with his girl-friend Superna has fallen apart, he has suffered from malaria, dengue et al. So, he quits his job to gain his health and returns to his home-town. Ah yes, I almost forgot-He also meets a ravishing journalist, Natasha at a party in Gurgaon, before he leaves for his hometown.

Right from the moment he arrives home, nosy fat aunties enquire about his job and matrimonial plans. But Rish is hardly in a position to answer them. Superna has left him for good and he does not have a passion for architecture anymore. He tries to find out what he truly wants out of life and after a few weeks, lands at a job in a creepy office where he is supposed to draft designs by hand!

He tries hard to enjoy his work and stay at hometown. He also fixes up meetings with his old friends. And during one of those meetings with his Facebook friend Janvi, Rish meets Mansi, who is a cousin of Janvi.

One fine day, he goes to Mr.Sahota's (A client of his office) residence for taking few measurements for an upcoming project. Escaping from the (almost) molestation attempts of Mrs.Sahota, rescuing Ramesh (A kid who works for the Sahotas and is being treated badly by them), being accused of kidnapping/murdering Mr.Sahota (Who mysteriously goes missing few days after Rishabh's visit to their home)-The meeting with the Sahotas changes his life forever.

Will Rish be arrested? Or will he solve the mystery behind Mr.Sahota's disappearance? Get your copy to know the climax.

The biggest plus of this book is its story-line. Of course, it does not have a plot that is quite different from the other books. But the treatment is very unique and that is what makes this book interesting. The author's portrayal of Rish as someone who tries to discover his inner self and passion deserves a thumbs up. Rahul should also be hugely applauded for addressing the issue of child labor and child trafficking in this book. With his social commitment, Rish is definitely a role model of sorts.

The other characters in the book-Rish's over-protective mom, intelligent and fiery journo Natasha, pretty and charming Mansi-All of them entertain the reader quite well. Certain circumstances in the book where Rish becomes highly dramatic is so enjoyable. So are the online chats between Rish and Natasha.

On the down side, I felt that the Chota Kutta Gabru Young (It's the name of a dog Rish adopts from the street!!) episode was totally unnecessary. Also, there could have been a bigger mystery element behind the kidnap of Mr.Sahota, given the magnitude of the case and the hype surrounding it.

Bottom-line: The Orange Hangover makes for a good evening read. It is devoid of many cliches that we come across in the numerous books flooding the Indian market. Three cheers to the author for penning a neat and crisp entertainer!

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Name: The Orange Hangover

Author: Rahul Saini

Genre: Fiction

Publisher: Jaico Publishing House (First published in India in 2012)

ISBN: 978-81-8495-302-2

Price: Rs.125