Post # 15 - When a book ends...

It is a universal truth that when a good book ends it leaves a reader distraught, lost, dazed, unhappy and unwilling, in some cases, to return to the real world. I, dear reader, often suffer from this malady. 

There are a few stages to enjoying a book. Whenever I pick up a new book I’m filled with a mixture of apprehension and excitement (this mixture of emotions is not limited to reading only). Reading, unlike what most people think, is not just an act of picking up a book and going through it from beginning to end. At least, it isn’t for me. A lot of effort goes into reading a book. There is the physical effort - taking out time, making small notes in the margins, and holding the book or kindle (anything over 30 mins and I need two pillows under my arms now!). A good reader also invests himself/herself mentally and emotionally with the book. The first few chapters are the beginning of your relationship with the story, and if it’s a good one, by the middle of the book you’ll have a visual image of the setting and characters down to the very last detail. The characters become familiar and you find yourself taking sides. You’re afraid to turn the page when the going gets tough for a character you hold dear. You might scream with joy, exclaim with delight or pump your fists when the hero/heroine comes out successfully from the peril that loomed and lurked in their life. In short, if you’re a reader like me, you start living in another world which runs parallel to yours. And there are times, rare though they might be, when the book’s world tempts you to step into it. 

Alas! That cannot be. All good things have to come to an end and so is the case with a good book. When I turn the last page of a book I’ve enjoyed and with whose characters I’ve developed a love and hate relationship, a strange sort of sadness comes over me. I feel lost for a few days and unable to pick up another book. 

This might sound strange to a non-reader. When we are getting news 24/7 about all kinds of catastrophes and tragedies, how can a work of fiction make one feel complex emotions? My answer is simple. It can. Humans crave stories. We spin stories about tragedies and joy and hardships and success and tell them to each other. News is also a grotesque form of story and is something we watch and hear but don’t engage with. Images flash in front of our eyes of people and happenings but we don’t absorb their stories. Read a book by a black author and you’ll be able to understand the pain and urgency behind the Black Lives Matter movement. Read a dystopian novel and maybe you might not support dictators and fascist leaders. Read a collection of short stories by a local author and you’ll be able to identify with the scenarios in many of them. Read a fantasy or sci-fi novel for the sheer joy of being transported into fantastical worlds and if you read closely, you might spot many similarities with and ugly truths about the reality around you. Read a popular book; its themes and story might surprise you. Read a work of non-fiction without judgement and preconceived notions and your views on that particular topic might take a 180 degree shift. 

Books can make you feel heavy duty emotions. The end of a book, like a relationship, leaves you in a bit of a limbo. I am still in the suffering mode as I finished two amazing books four days back. The next pile of books is stacked, not quite neatly, on my side table and I think it’s about time I take another leap of faith and immerse myself in a new world. 

“Reading makes immigrants of us all. It takes us away from home, but more important it finds homes for us everywhere.”  (Jean Rhys)

                                                                                                                                         

Post # 12 - 'The Girl Who Saved Christmas' filled me with hope to bursting point

Hope. It’s an emotion we all experience everyday. Or almost everyday. A simple Google search of this four letter word brought up many definitions/meanings.

“…a feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen.”

“ Hope is an optimistic state of mind that is based on an expectation of positive outcomes with respect to events and circumstances in one's life or the world at large.”

Never has the world collectively hoped for the same things. Hope that people suffering from the virus will recover. Hope that this virus will spare us, our loved ones, our country. Hope that the old ways of life and living will return soon. Hope is a powerful emotion. It is uplifting and maybe, who knows, magical too. 

Even though hope is a powerful feeling that carries a lot of positive connotations, it is a little hard to come by in this crazy time. Locked in our homes, away from our loved ones, living a life which we had only ever come across in books or movies - it is tough to feel hopeful. When ever I’ve found myself spiralling down into the ‘rabbit hole’, I have turned to books. No matter what my state of mind may be at a given time, I always believe that there is a right book which will help me, alleviate me, motivate me or fill me with gratitude and hope. 

I did find myself going a bit over the edge a few days back. There were the usual signs - agitation, a sinking feeling in the stomach, spurts of anger and a longing for things to be different. I knew I had to find my next read quickly and that, too, something which was buoyant and uplifting. While searching through my book shelves for the ‘right’ read, I picked up and put down many books - a collection of essays by Zadie Smith, Slaughterhouse 5 and even, The Hobbit. Just as I thought I’ll have to fall back on my usual book saviour, P.G. Wodehouse, I came across this lovely book which my niece had gifted me last year around Christmas and I instantly knew that this book was going to save me. 

This is the second book in the Christmas titles by Matt Haig. My very first book by Matt Haig was The Humans which I read only because it was a selection for our Karachi DWL Readers’ Club. Haig is not an ordinary writer though his writing might come across as simple. He is one of those writers who keep you glued to the story so that you just can’t help but finish his book. Also, I feel, there is an element of crazy in his work which has made me read other novels by him. Most of his books, even the ones based on vampires (The Radleys), are oozing with hope and good cheer. Writing, I think, is an outlet for Haig to deal with his own depression and anxiety. I’ve read his books in times of mild distress (A Boy called Christmas  - when I was trying to conceive. The Radleys - during my pregnancy and The Girl who saved Christmas - now) and they’ve always brought a smile to my face. It sounds a bit cheesy but trust me, his writing has the power to improve one’s mood unless you’re a total snob about books. 

Happy, or something close to it, is what we need to be at the moment as the world stands at the brink of collapse and everyone hopes for a miracle. A miracle is what the ten year old Amelia Wishart, the protagonist, wished and hoped for too. Her mother died on Christmas eve and she was taken, by force, to a workhouse. Alone, orphaned and friendless, her only hope was Father Christmas. Unfortunately, Elfhelm, where Father Christmas lived amongst the elves, was facing a crisis too. Trolls attacked the elf town on Christmas eve, even though they had agreed on a peace treaty (sound familiar?) and Christmas had to be cancelled. Though Father Christmas got Amelia’s letter and that of many other children, he didn’t possess magic, toys and the sleigh to carry out his job. With Father Christmas thus restrained, Amelia’s wish remained unfulfilled and she stopped believing in magic, in goodness and even in Father Christmas.

“She realised that this world, and everything in it, belonged to men. Except Queen Victoria. The only way to be female in this world, Amelia thought angrily, was to have a crown on your head. Because really the world was run by men. Cruel, unthinking men who didn’t and would never care about the wishes and hopes of a ten-year-old girl like her. Men like Officer Pry. Men like Mr. Creeper. Men who thought they were doing good but who were really doing harm. And yes, even Father Christmas. Yes, especially him. Father Christmas had made children believe in magic when actually a lot of life was very unmagical.”

Hope has a strange, resilient power. Even if a smidgen of it exists in the world, it can make a difference. Don’t lose hope is a phrase oft repeated. Sometimes it might sound hollow and superficial but it is anything but that. Things do work out for the better even if they take some time. In Amelia’s case, it took an entire year for her life to turn around. For it was only after a year that Father Christmas was able to deliver toys to the children around the world on Christmas Eve and Amelia was first on his list. However, he didn’t know the change in her circumstances and address (since there wasn’t any Google in London during Victorian Times) and thus had to conduct an almost door-to-door search for Amelia. He had quite an adventure of it too as he met the young Queen Victoria (owing to his sleigh crashing through the window of her room in Buckingham Palace) and a young Charles Dickens. In fact, it was Father Christmas who suggested that Dickens write a book on Christmas. Fancy that!

Charles Dickens and Father Christmas

‘I have been sitting upstairs at my desk every day for five weeks trying to think of a new story, but my mind is barren and empty. I’ve been getting the mobs. People liked my last story a lot and now I worry I will never be able to write another. Presently, my mind is as foggy as the River Thames in March. I have no idea what to write about next. 

Father Christmas smiled. ‘Christmas! You should write about Christmas!’

‘But it takes me months to write a book. How could I write about Christmas in, say, March?’

‘Christmas isn’t a date, Mr.Dickens. It’s a feeling.’

Father Christmas saw the writer’s eyes light up like windows at night. ‘A Christmas story? That’s not such a bad idea!’

What follows after these two encounters is some hard core action which I’ll leave the reader to discover himself/herself.

This book has everything to uplift one’s mood. Christmas and all the joy it brings is, indeed, a feeling because even though it’s April, I felt all warm and fuzzy with hope and joy. Another uplifting feature of the book are the strong female characters. Amelia, who never gave up hope that she will escape from the workhouse, with or without outside help. Mary, the kind woman at the workhouse who added sugar into the food or ‘slop’ to make it a bit better for the young kids who worked there. The young Queen Victoria who extended all her help to Father Christmas although he crashed into her room with reindeers in the middle of the night. But humans aren’t the only impressive characters in the story. There is the elf Noosh who is a doting mother, a journalist and a conscientious citizen. Also the Truth Pixie who always tells the truth no matter what the consequences and helps Noosh uncover some interesting facts about the Troll attack on Elfhelm. 

Books have power. Some more than others. This isn’t a book that will change your beliefs or cause a revolution or make you start believing in magic. What it might do, like it did for me, is uplift your mood. It might also make you realise that even though sometimes all hell breaks loose, things do get back to normal (in some cases, even better than normal). It just takes some time. The important thing is not to lose hope and remember that there is no impossible. 

Post # 10 - How The Water Dancer reinforced my belief in the power of stories

Stories are powerful. I have not believed in their powers so strongly than in this current crisis. Social media has become, even more than before, a platform for sharing stories. Not a day goes by when my WhatsApp, Instagram or Facebook feed does not have a video which tells me a story of a total stranger. Stories of hope, of failure, of disappointment, of simple joys, of fear, and of death. These stories have connected me and others with people in Italy, Spain, Iran and other parts of the world which are facing the worst of this epidemic at the moment. 

Never has a book reinforced my belief in the power of stories as this one. The protagonist, Hiram Walker, has a special power of conduction through which he can transport people from one place to a completely different place through the medium of water. But it is not just a magical power like Apparition (Harry Potter readers would know) - a select few have the power of conduction and the protagonist was only able to harness it when he reached down into the deepest parts of his past and relived the story of his separation from his mother. Like Hiram, another character, Harriet, can also perform conduction and she, too, reaches out to the stories within her, of her kin and family, to make this miracle happen. In fact, it is she who helps Hiram understand this supernatural ability: "The jump is done by the power of the story. It pulls from our particular histories, from all of our loves and all of our losses." 

Yes, this book is about slavery. About that dark time in America before the civil war when plantation owners had dozens of black men and women working for them; in the fields, in the house, in the factories. When a plantation owner’s standing in society was measured by the number of slaves he owned. In the backdrop of slavery is the story of Hiram - his personal losses, his love, his struggles as a slave and then as a part of the Underground Railroad and above all, his acceptance of his special powers. There is an element of magical realism in this story but then, don’t all stories have magic? Aren’t all stories a doorway into an escape from society and reality? And no matter what device the author decides to use in his story, all stories are important because they transport us to a time and place which we might never have experienced or even known. 

I feel we don’t give importance to stories anymore. Maybe now we will, when the entire world has come to a standstill and all we have to share with each other, as we sit behind closed doors, are stories. We are shaped by the stories of our ancestors because these stories connect us to our roots. To walk away from our stories is to cut off our roots and denounce our identities. No matter where we live or what profession we choose or what car we drive or what phone we carry - our stories make us who we are. For us, the people of the subcontinent, the stories of partition are significant. They make us realise what we were, what we fought against, why we took the step of breaking away, and what we have done with the freedom gifted to us. 

Reading this book left me with a lot of sadness. The world has changed but there are still oppressors and the oppressed. Somewhere, even close to home, are people who are in similar bondage as were the black slaves of America. Distinctions are made, even now, on the basis of skin colour. Atrocities are still being committed by humans on other humans in the name of religion, sect, race, social status and class difference. Children are still separated from their mothers and families are still torn apart. 

The book, though steeped in tragedy, was not all bleak. Where there is darkness, there is also light. There are good people in this world also. People who take up causes and start movements even though they might not be directly affected by them (although if there is one thing this current epidemic has taught, it’s that none of us can remain unaffected by the condition of others who share our planet with us). But humans are resilient creatures. No matter what we are born into and who we become, we have the power to change our lives. What is important, I believe, after reading this book and being forced to sit at home due to a virus, is that our real strength lies in the bonds of love and family. It lies in the stories passed down from one generation to the next and most importantly, in how we take elements from the stories of our ancestors and create our own tale. 

Note: The image in this post is by the author.  

Post # 2 - Read & Review: The Testaments

17th Jan 2020 

Still reading. Didn't get the chance to finish it yesterday or maybe I didn't have the courage? 

16th Jan 2020 - 10:10am

I’m on page 340 so I’m more than halfway done. I’ll probably finish the book today because it has reached a point where there is too much at stake and I need to know how it ends. Does Gilead survive? Does Aunt Lydia’s scheme work? Do Agnes and Nicole get reunited with their mother?

The thick hardcover is lying next to me on the desk as I write this. Why am I not reaching for it? Honestly, I’m a bit afraid. What if there is no happy ending which, knowing Atwood, is not a given. That will be very disappointing. Especially when I have invested myself in the story so much (I read The Handmaid’s Tale before I started this book). 

Just like Orwell did in 1984, Atwood creates a world which is so believable it’s almost scary. I don’t think I have the courage to watch the television series of The Handmaid’s Tale. Seeing the story come to life on screen will probably be heart wrenching. 

More on the book later. 

21st Jan 2020

I finished the book on 16th only and decided to think about it for a bit before posting my views. It was a great book. The plot was perfect, the characters were extremely well done and believable. The connections with The Handmaid's Tale were there and I'm so glad I read it. How did I feel when I finished the book? Relieved but a bit confused also. Why did this book win the Booker Prize? It was a cross between literary fiction and a suspense novel and also, it had a really filmi ending. It's as if she has written this book keeping in mind that it will be made into a movie or television series. I'm not saying it wasn't a great read. Maybe not as haunting and disturbing as The Handmaid's Tale, but a good story. Now let's see what the verdict is at the DWL Karachi Readers' Club.  

Post # 7 - A Homage to books and those who helped me discover them

Today is celebrated as World Book Day in some countries. A day we celebrate books and the joy they bring in our lives. I, for one, have always enjoyed books. I was into reading from a very young age. As a four year old I carried around a dark blue Saudi airline bag in which were my most treasured possessions - paper, pencil and books. Not much has changed in 34 years. Except the bag, thankfully!

Reading is one thing which has remained a constant in my life. While growing up we didn't have a lot of money to go into a bookstore and walk out with an armful of books. We were only allowed to buy one or, maximum, two books in six months. Usually our books were passed down to us by older cousins and uncles. I vividly recall how once, on my birthday, my father bought me two Nancy Drew novels. They cost Rs. 100 and I still remember he asked me numerous times if I'll read the books and keep them safely. It took some convincing before I became the proud owner of two spanking new Nancy Drew books. AND I still have them.

My mother introduced me to Enid Blyton, Charles Dickens and Roald Dahl. But some books I found by chance. The Far Pavilions, I found tucked in between the many Mills & Boons my mother owned. Similarly while browsing through our bookshelf I stumbled on Alistair Maclean (this must be around 1997). Some of the books I love the most are those which I've come across accidentally. Brideshead Revisited is one of those books. I just happened to see it at the old book stall in Karachi a few years back and bought it because I liked the cover. That is how I also discovered Graham Greene. I started reading Maugham when I came across a quote of his on writing. Let's just say I've been lucky.

Not all books and authors I like have been accidental discoveries. A cousin of mine recommended Garcia Marquez (2002). A college acquaintance lent me Rebecca which started my obsession with Daphne du Maurier (1998). Another college friend introduced me to LOTR. I still remember her sitting in the college bus, with the thick volume in her hands, her black nail colours providing a perfect contrast to the green cover. Likewise, I read War and Peace when I saw it in the bookshelf of a friend at university (2006). This friend didn't have many books on her shelf so I gathered that the few she has must be really good and so I decided to take a chance with Tolstoy. 

Most of the Urdu novels I read during my teens were from my grandfather's collection. It was my maternal Uncle who introduced me to the magical world of Tilsm Hoshruba and Amir Hamza. Something I am eternally grateful to him for.

I don't know how I became such an avid reader. Can it be genetic because I've heard my paternal grandfather was massively fond of reading. Growing up I've seen books around me. There were always books in my grandparents' house and often in the hot afternoons, I found my grandmother curled up on the divan with an Urdu digest. Whoever knew of my hobby of reading either gifted me a book or lent me one. Maybe that made me come to love books so much? I don't know. What I do know is that I can't imagine a life without books and reading. 

On this World Book Day I want to make a wish. A wish that my children develop a love for books too. That they find joy, solace, laughter, refuge, inspiration and gratitude in the pages they read. They better - because I have a very long list waiting for them!

straight from the book - Milkman

"There was food and drink. The right butter. The wrong butter. The tea of allegiance. The tea of betrayal. There were 'our shops' and 'their shops'. Place names. What school you went to. What prayers you said. What hymns you sang. How you pronounced your 'haitch' or 'aitch'. Where you went to work. And of course there were bus-stops. There was the fact that you created a political statement everywhere you went, and with everything you did, even if you didn't want to". 

(Milkman - Anna Burns)

reading nooks are over-rated

If you meet someone who sings praises of his/her 'reading spot/nook', beware! The reading nook is just a marketing gimmick. It may not appear to be so but eventually all roads lead to consumerism and our insatiable appetite to buy. This advocate of the reading nook (or RN) will exclaim in delight how they've managed to read so much more because they now have a dedicated place to read. You need the right vibe around you while reading, they'll lecture, and no ordinary corner of the house will suffice. The chair needs to be right, with a side table of the correct height and width to accommodate both your book and cup of tea. If you show curiosity about the tea they'll go into another tirade of how the whole flavour of the book changes when reading it is accompanied by a steaming cup of tea or coffee, whatever your preference. Besides the chair and table, there has to be a lamp and foot stool for night time reading. They'll also add that you must check out reading nooks on Instagram or Pinterest for inspiration. The whole conversation will end with them showing you the pictures of their nook. 

Of course, when you'll ask them the number of books they managed to read while comfortably ensconced in their nook, they'll probably mumble something incoherently or state a single digit number or tell you they were so busy setting up their nook and putting it up on social media that there was no time to read. 

Don't fall in the nook trap. Read anywhere. In the car, in the toilet, in the bedroom, in the living room, on your balcony (with or without a cup of tea), in hospital waiting rooms, at the  airport (I once read a book while standing in line for an eye scan in Dubai). Read in the park or at the beach. Carry a slim book (or a heavy one depending on the size of your bag) on you or your Kindle and just take it out when and where you get time. 

Books are cool. Read them. 

Book shots

Presenting the first 11 reads of my 100 book reading challenge for 2017. Keep a lookout for more book shots and read all about why I'm undertaking this mammoth task again this year here. 

Beanbagtales is also on Instagram and I'm posting pictures of books recently read with mini reviews or 'book shots'. For more clicks follow @beanbagtales on Instagram. 

100 books. 365 days. bring it on!

I have, yet again, embarked on the crazy journey of reading a 100 books this year even though I failed miserably last year. I managed to read around 40 books only. Okay, 39 to be exact. It might look like a decent figure and I thought so too till I saw some readers on social media who had finished, brace yourself, 200 books. 200! Instead of doing the intelligent thing and getting off social media or unfollowing these super readers, I added 'read 100 books' to my new year resolutions list again. 

So, why am I doing the undoable? 

One, to prove to myself (and my loyal blog readers) that I can read 100 books. Which, I hope, will encourage others to read also. If not 100, maybe one book? That’s still better than no book, right? And in my own little way, I will have made a small contribution to increase love for books in the world. *violins start playing in the background*

Second, I need to reduce my TBR pile. Firstly, because I’m sick of hearing people asking me (especially those who come to my house for the very first time) if I’ve read all my books? Seriously? Is that the only thing you can think of when you see my book collection? Sheesh! Secondly, I need to weed out the books which are collecting dust since the past who knows how many years and the only ethical way to get rid of them is to read them first and give them a chance. (Not liking a book cover, the sound of the author's name or the blurb are also very ethical methods.)

Thirdly and most importantly, I read so I can escape. Try it. It’s a better way to forget reality and is completely harmless unless you’re reading in bad light or are reading 50 Shades of Grey or both. 

How far am I? Considering that the third month of the year is almost at an end and events in the near future will probably digress me from my reading, I’ve just managed around 11 books to date. Stop rolling your eyes. How many have you managed to read so far, huh?

au revoir classics!

A reason to do the 100 book challenge is to reduce my ever increasing TBR pile. The largest number of unread novels in this pile are classics. Flaubert, Balzac, Sartre, Stendhal, some Chekov, some Dostoevsky and many others. Whenever I decide to reach out for any one of them, I find myself gravitating to some other book and they remain untouched.  

So yesterday, after much hesitation, I picked up Flaubert's book, Sentimental Education. A young man in love with a married older woman seemed an interesting enough plot. The introduction by the translator was promising too with hints of an outrageous ending. Thirty pages in and all I wanted was to put it right back on the shelf. I even considered donating the whole lot but the thought of empty shelves was a bit disconcerting so I abandoned the idea, for the time being at least. 

But why did I feel this way towards this great writer? Was it the language? Was I not able to relate to the setting or the time period? I dismissed the latter as irrelevant because it is always the story which pulls you into the novel no matter what the setting or the time period. I mean, we've all practically grown up on Enid Blyton novels where usually the kids did stuff which was completely alien to us. Drinking tea at 4pm and having cucumber sandwiches was never a part of MY lifestyle while growing up!

It seems a bit silly but this recent aversion to classics was really bothering me. So I put this question to two bibliophile friends today and one of them simply said, “Life is too short to waste on books you don’t want to read. If you don’t feel like completing a book, don’t. There are so many other good books out there.” 

Now you might not agree with this but it makes SO MUCH SENSE! Why read something which doesn’t excite you, interest you or is unrelatable? Books are an escape. We inhabit another world when we read and it takes our mind off reality for a while. A good book is one which engages you at such a level, you don’t want to come back to reality! And at this point, classics are definitely not doing that for me. 

So with a spring in my step and a light heart, I place the Flaubert back on the shelf. The hunt for a new book begins!

Journeys

I recently read 'Journey to Ithaca' by Anita Desai. In fact, I finished it last night after binge reading 'The Weary Generations' for an event yesterday. I personally think it isn't a good idea to finish a book at bedtime because your opinion about it is affected by the muggy state of mind you're in. At least that happens to me. As I skimmed through the last few chapters of Desai's book and finally put it down at an ungodly hour, I found myself slightly disappointed. Which is surprising because I love Desai and am a huge fan of almost all her work.

But books have a life and personality of their own. At least most books do and sometimes you truly understand them when you're least expecting. Earlier today I was looking for a notebook to write my present journey through a very special and interesting time of my life. And suddenly, the whole purpose of the novel just kind of hit me. It isn't the end of the journey that matters, I thought, but the bloody journey itself. In all honesty maybe that is a wee bit romantic but often, it's the journey which brings out the best and at times, the worst in us. And every journey is a quest. Whether it is a holiday or visiting family or writing a novel or having a child or embarking on a pilgrimage or trying to lose weight through a 50 day challenge. Each journey tests us in ways we never imagine but we carry on, hoping we'll be better off in the end than we started. 

We embark on many journeys in our lifetime. There are some we venture on alone and though we might find other travellers on the way, it is essentially our journey. Writing my novel is somewhat like that and though I have friends who are also undertaking this monumental journey and we are there for each other, each one of us has to travel the long, lonely hours of writing alone.  Then there are collective journeys which we embark on with many others (school, university, diploma courses) but as they reach their end, we find ourselves drifting away and finding our own separate paths to start completely new journeys. 

I don't know what the joy is in - the journey or the destination. Probably both. Even reading a book is embarking on a journey, you never know how it will change you. Reading the Malazan Book of the Fallen had a huge impact on me, both as a reader and writer, but that is a story for another day. Right now I'll leave you with the poem 'Ithaca' by C.P. Cavafy which inspired the title of the novel. [For the complete poem, click here]. 

Image: From the book- Journey to Ithaca

straight from the book

'But then people don't read literature in order to understand; they read it because they want to re-live the feelings and sensations which they found exciting in the past. Art can be a lot of things; but in actual practice most of it is merely the mental equivalent of alcohol and cantharides.'

(After Many a Summer - Aldous Huxley)

Of book-covers and book snobs

You know how sometimes you buy a book purely because of the cover? I mean, look at this gorgeous set. How can any book lover in their right mind pass it over? And even though I had a very faint idea of who Asimov was, I picked up these books without a second thought.

I think science fiction is awesome. Why am I saying this? Because there are many book snobs out there who raise eyebrows and shake their heads when this genre is discussed (there are some who display the same sort of behaviour when the fantasy genre is brought up) and frankly, I think it’s all hogwash and pretence and this oh-I’m-so-above-this-genre attitude. I know because I, too, was a member of this tribe many years back. Any mention of fantasy or science fiction by someone and immediately the judgement dial in my head would start blinking red. How I rid myself of this snobbery is a matter of another blog post but if truth be told, some ill effects still linger but I am open to suggestions and do try to embrace most, if not all. 

Anyways, coming back to the books. And science fiction in general. The entire point of good fiction is to make the reader believe in a make belief world. This is especially the case with both fantasy and science fiction. When I was eight years old Jules Verne made me believe that his characters had traversed the centre of the earth. Asimov did the same. He dragged me into the story immediately and after a few chapters I was hooked. Hari Seldon and his mathematical predictions were fascinating and how they played out in the entire trilogy made for excellent reading.

A lot of people might say the books are a bit repetitive and the first book might seem so. However, in the second book, Asimov takes us on a new journey and the story goes off on a different tangent when The Mule makes his appearance. Both the second and the third books have such a mind-blowing twist in the end that I couldn’t stop myself from exclaiming loudly after I was done reading. I know it might sound a bit melodramatic but how many books do that anymore? I’ve read 30 so far and only five, which includes two of Asimov have made me go oh-my-god-i-don’t-believe-this-is-happening-shit!

Another book which recently had me all twisted and turning pages till 2am was Doctor Sleep, a novel by Stephen King. For the longest of time I didn’t read King because of the snob-effect but all that changed when I bought two of his novels from the book bazaar sale at T2F. I started reading Doctor Sleep at breakfast yesterday and it is such a page turner that I have to physically distance myself from the book to get anything else done. And of course, I am kind of kicking myself for all the years I turned a blind eye and an upturned nose to the works of Mr. King! 

Moral of the story? Never be a book snob. You have no idea of all the great writing you're depriving yourself of!

Straight from the book

'Other men slowly build up the sense of home by accumulation - a new picture, more and more books, an odd shaped paper-weight, the ash tray bought for a forgotten reason on a forgotten holiday; Scobie built his home by a process of reduction.'

(The Heart of the Matter - Graham Greene)

A Book 4 U is back!

Some of you might know about my book donation drive which I started in 2014. If not, read about it here. Well, the book donation drive is back and you can receive a book in the mail wherever you are in Pakistan. Read through the list below and send me your preferred title along with your name, address and number at thebookcircus@gmail.com. Please mention book donation or A Book for Me in the subject of your email. 

Here are the books: 

1. The Museum of Innocence - Orhan Pamuk

2. The Woman Destroyed - Simone de Beauvoir

3. Poet and Dancer - Ruth Prawer Jhabvala

4. The Wandering Falcon - Jamil Ahmad

5. Cold Feet - Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan

6. The Private Life of Mrs. Sharma - Ratika Kapur

7. Point Omega - Don Delillo

Happy reading! 

Note: For an updated book donation list please click here.

My 100 book pact - an update

It was a crazy idea. Reading 100 books in one year. Seriously? But then again, why not? Why is the thought of reading such a large number of books daunting?  Especially to someone like me who a) loves reading, b) has ample time to read and c) is a fast reader. So I went ahead with this crazy idea and so far, things aren't looking very bright because I have only, and I repeat ONLY, managed to read 27 books. And it's already August! 

*deep breaths*

What made this task difficult was my resolve to read books which I've had for years, collecting dust on the shelves, waiting to be read. Some turned out to be pure delights and I kicked myself for not going through them earlier (The Book of Other People, The Pursuit of Love) while others were huge disappointments and I kicked myself for wasting precious time reading them! I ended up reading three novels by the same author (Greene) and had almost decided to finish all his novels in my collection. However, common sense prevailed and I switched to other authors. A large, uninterrupted dose of Greene can be lethal! 

Currently I'm reading the Foundation Trilogy by Isaac Asimov. I picked up these lovely editions from the old book bazaar at Frere Hall and couldn't resist diving into them immediately. I'm just wondering though, will the trilogy be counted as one or three books? 

book shots

Anita Desai is brilliant. This book was such a delight! It revolves around Nanda Kaul, an austere old woman who lives alone in Carignano, a secluded bungalow in Kasauli. Her solitary existence is disturbed by the arrival of her great-granddaughter, Raka. As Raka tries to adjust in her new surroundings, Nanda finds herself dwelling on the past & as the summer goes on, many of her old wounds seem to resurface. Especially when her old friend, Ila Das, discovers her in Kasauli and pays a visit.

Desai is at her best. The descriptions of the house and Kasauli are beautiful. They reminded me so much of Murree and Nathiagali. But the real beauty lies in how the author has disclosed the past of Nanda Kaul, layer by layer. It is beautiful prose and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. 

The pine cone in the picture is rather special. It has come all the way from Quetta with a dear friend and has found a place on my writing table. 

Beanbagtales is on Instagram and I'm posting pictures of books recently read with mini reviews or 'book shots'. For more clicks follow @beanbagtales on Instagram. 

book shots

This was not a part of the 100 books challenge but a selection for the Desi Writers' Lounge Karachi Readers' Club. The book has just got published and we figured it will be a perfect read before we take a Ramadan break. 

As the title indicates, the book is about Mrs. Sharma and her shenanigans. A working woman in Delhi, she has to take care of ageing in-laws and keep an eye on her troubled teenage son while her husband is earning tax free income in Dubai for their 'better' future.

A chance encounter with a young man at the Delhi metro station leads to a series of events which, eventually and predictably, lead to disaster for our protagonist. 

An easy read which gives a sort of sneak peek into the lives of the marginalized in a big city.

Beanbagtales is on Instagram and I'm posting pictures of books recently read with mini reviews or 'book shots'. Some I'll share here on the blog. If you're interested in more clicks on the beanbag then simply follow on Instagram (I take quite decent pictures).

Image by: Me

Save your story from pneumonia

"Write to please one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia."

(Kurt Vonnegut Jr.)

The #100bookpact - Books 1-10

Sometimes undertaking a challenge is the only way to do things. Even though I consider myself to be an avid reader (at least that's what I keep telling everyone!), usually my book list at the end of the year doesn't have more than twenty books. Which is insane because I usually buy double this number of books every year.

Social media can make one do crazy things. For me the #100bookpact is just that. This year I've decided to read, yes you've read it right, a 100 books. It did appear to be a pretty daunting task but so far I've managed to finish nine books. For someone who only read the Malazan series last year, nine books is pretty amazing!

Here are the ten books with the briefest, most minuscule reviews.

1. Esmond in India by Ruth Jhabvala. Nostalgia, love, broken ideals and lost causes. Well written characters, each one striving for happiness and control of their lives, like we all are. Her work is a perfect example of how a story based in the subcontinent can be about ordinary people leading ordinary lives.

2. Aiding and Abetting by Muriel Spark. Whatever I've read by her so far has been hugely entertaining and this book is no different. There is a potential for a movie in it. Her novels are short but she always has very strong characters with distinct qualities. For example, the staple diet of one of the characters in this novel was smoked salmon and lamb chops!

3. The Master and Margarita by Bulgakov. It was such a huge disappointment. Even the vodka guzzling cat couldn't save it! I abandoned the book after 50 pages. However, I highly recommend his other novel, Black Snow, which I've been thinking should be made into a stage play. It is not just very funny but totally relevant to the theatre scene in Karachi, if not Pakistan.

4. So Long, and thanks for all the fish by Douglas Adams and then,

5. Mostly Harmless, again by Douglas Adams. This book was such a bore. I think the best one in this five book series is The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Even The Restaurant at the end of the World isn't bad either. I think the books which don't have Zaphod Beeblebrox and Marvin are really lame.

6. A morning with Jeeves is full of joy. Wodehouse's 'Joy in the Morning' was the sixth book. With preparations for the Desi Writers' Lounge stall for KLF in full swing in the beginning of February, this was the easiest, happiest read!

7. The famous Eat, Pray, Love came next. In all honesty I had never any intention of reading the book. I had seen the film and even though I had heard a lot about it, memoirs are not really my thing. But I read Big Magic last year by Gilbert and it made me curious to read her most famous work. It wasn't a let down and it gave me an excuse to watch the movie again. Also, it has a really smart plot. 

8. Tolkein's The Silmarillion came next. This book should definitely come with a disclaimer: Only for hardcore LOTR fans. 

9. Probably the best book I've read so far for this challenge was 'boom!' by Mark Haddon. A sci-fi for kids or young adults, it is one action packed story! It has aliens, toilet cleaner wielding spiders, mysterious portals, a jobless father who finds his calling in cooking, devious young boys who spy on aliens, and a road trip all the way from London to the Isle of Skye. Read it. Make your kids read it. Read it to your kids. Just don't die without reading this book!

10. I started Atonement last night. I've read two books by Ian McEwan, Amsterdam and On Chesil Beach, and really liked them but I always shied away from this critically acclaimed novel. I'm hoping it won't be as insipid as the movie. Let's see. 

The next update on the #100bookpact will come after I've finished ten more books. Which will, hopefully, not be at the end of the year! 

Note: Image of Eat, Pray, Love and The Silmarillion are from Google.