Book Review: Axxiss and the Magic Medallions

Tim Murari’s second YA fiction, Axxiss and the Magic Medallions, (the first of a trilogy), is a fascination journey of six teenagers from different parts of the world, with one thing in common – they all wear a medallion placed around their necks at different times of their lives, medallions, whose chain does not break and are similar to each other, making the kids, ‘special’.

‘… a massive earthquake, 12.5 on the Richter scale, the largest ever recorded, has struck hundred miles north of the Australian coast in the Pacific and Indian Ocean regions.’ (Pg 11)

This is the beginning of a wild leap of imagination that stretches over time, space, digging up the past, fantastic meeting with world renowned scientist who proved the theory of gravity, and the brilliant development of the story, that makes the six teenagers come together, to solve a common problem.

The problem is as follows: Due to the massive earthquake, Gondwana land, which was buried deep in the ocean for many centuries, has emerged and is threatening to submerge the earth and establish itself in place of the earth. Surrounded by malicious creatures, Gondwana land must be submerged again, in order that the earth may survive. The key to this lies with Axxiss, although he does not know it yet and must wait for the solution, which will emerge from his medallion.

The story moves speedily albeit with a lot of struggle for our young team of six, but nevertheless, they are able to overcome all hindrances and dangers. They have been kidnapped by forces of evil men and women, to meet their end. The boys and girls are away from home and at once desperate to return to where they came from, on the other hand, they must fulfill the task of bring the earth to its rightful place and push Gondwana land back to where it belongs.

Axxiss and the Magic Medallions is a book that can be read at many levels. At the top layer, is this awesome adventure of these six young boys and girls, but beneath that there is another layer, that addresses the young mind of main characters of the book, making it a YA fiction.

There is the third layer as well, which is only revealed in the last and final chapter. And that is a magic number.  Two quotations from the book are critical to what I have just said. They are:

‘If the surface of the earth was the conscious, then Gondwana was the subconscious of all those who lived above. It was the dark, dark side that prowled beneath the surface of the conscious in every creature, especially the Above Creatures.’ (Pg 147) 

Now, who are the Above Creatures? This will emerge only much later in the book. Axxiss is the chosen one on whose medallion the secret will appear.

‘They stared at Axxiss’s medallion waiting for it to reveal its secret. ….What showed up was a set of numbers: 4-20-7.’ (Pg 230)

Now, dear reader, go figure!

Tim Morari leaves his reader with almost a Sudoku, which until solved, the reader cannot put the book down. Thus, shifting the power to the reader, Morari, manages like an astute dramatist to pull his reader into his plot, involving him, engaging him till he has found the answer. He must now join the famous six searching the meaning of those three numbers, put singly, or in a combination, or whatever!

It is a stroke of genius on the author’s part that makes for an end where the main characters and reader together, must to find the solution to save the earth.

Helpful Hint: One of the combinations of the number(s) is a helpful angel. Go wrack your brains over it, now.

Publisher: Scolastic India Pvt Ltd
A-27, Ground Floor, Bharti Sigma Centre
Infocity-1, Sector 34, Gurgaon 122001 India
Author: Tim Murari
Pages: 232
Price: 225 Printed Version
To Buy, CLICH HERE

About the Author: Timeri N. Murari’s career spans journalism, novels, non-fiction, screenplays and stage plays. Children of an Enchanted Jungle is his first book for Scolastic. He has written novels, including The Taliban Cricket Club, which has been translated in more than 20 languages. His latest novel, Chanakya Returns, was published in 2014. For more, visit his website by clicking on this LINK 

Blogger.com LINK 

Ilahabad (Persian for "place of a god") best for Triveni Sangam & The Kumbh Mela

Whatever be the reasons, old and new, if you are going to Allahabad, go only for the Triveni Sangam, which means the confluence of three rivers – the Yamuna, Ganga and Saraswati.

Our boatman told us that the way to identify the rivers is with the colour. Yamuna, being greenish, Ganga, brownish and when they come together, they become a light colour of bottle green. River Saraswati, which was the third river, is mythical and is said to flow below, is now really silent. Dried up, I am told. But the pandas (priests) and the boatmen will not tell you that, because, their livelihood is dependent on. The boatmen take you to the middle of the river for your dip at the confluence of all three rivers. 

A man ties his wraparound after having a dip in the river

This second most ancient city in India, Allahabad was therefore called Prayag (place of offering, because of the confluence of the rivers). “Allahabad was originally called Kaushambi (now a separate district) by the Kuru rulers of Hastinapur, who developed it as their capital. Since then, Allahabad has been a political, cultural and administrative centre of the Doab region. Mughal emperor Akbar renamed it Ilahabad, which the British changed to Allahabad. In 1833 it became the seat of the Ceded and Conquered Provinces region before its capital was moved to Agra in 1835. Allahabad became the capital of the North-Western Provinces in 1858, and was the capital of India for a day.’(See Wikipedia: Allahabad)  

In the political history of India, as well as in Education, Allahabad, continued to be of importance and in fact was called ‘the Oxford of the east’.

However, today it is best known for the Kumbh Mela See BBC Report on Kumbh Mela 

More Photos CLICK Here 

Book Review: Going home in the rain & other stories by Monideepa Sahu

The first thing that hits you in Monideepa Sahu’s collection of stories, Going home in the rain & other stories is the easy, placid flow of words and the conversational style with which the author holds forth her stories told to her readers, as if the two were sitting in a garden or a park, just watching the world go by.

Yes, watching! For this is the second thing that strikes you about the author; it is as if there is a sense of quietude with which the author writes her stories, as if to say, she is the ‘watcher’ herself of these stories, flowing like a river before her eyes.

And yes, you are mesmerized by the feeling too and read on, like you are sailing through the content of the book, without the slightest jerk or question on your mind. Not once, remember, you have had to look up the dictionary for a word.

Shashi Deshpande has said on the cover of the book, “A classic story teller”. You can believe it, because, the characters in the stories are believable, indeed, they seem to be inspired by real life characters. The language, the nuances, the location at which the stories are placed are real, and even if you have lived there many years, through the author’s eye for detail, you will begin to see, things, you always saw but never really noticed! The exceptional attention to detail, the minute observation and excellent description, the warmth in human relationships, present and memory of the past, all add to exquisite, straight from the heart writing skills you can’t avoid but see.

There are fourteen stories in all of 101 pages, of various lengths. The one pager many have a bigger punch, though, like did one story titled Mother, while a longer one, like Hoshi’s Bombay, brings home the point of coming to terms with loss of a friend, in the most touching way. Pishi’s Room, is a delightful, brilliant idea, once read, the reader might want to emulate, while Road Kill may bring tears to the eyes of the reader and throw fresh light on road rage. For me, The Tainted Canvas brought in new thoughts of creative release of anger, but really, the title story, Going home in the rain, shook me completely, as it would anyone, far away from home and yet coming ‘home’ to a new home, in a new city and experiencing lost moments with a parent, with the new ‘foster-mother’ of sorts. I loved its sense of belonging.

In the synopsis, it is written, “Everyday situations and people reveal extraordinary facets.” Indeed, this is the key to the stories.

The book is light to carry and can fit into a laptop, iPad cover bag, to open at leisure and read, especially as a relaxation or for the love of good written words. But, remember, even when you have put the book down, it might be a while before the ‘silence’ of the words leave your mind.

Do enjoy and witness the stories.

Publisher: Kitaab
Author: Monideepa Sahu
Pages: 101

Monideepa Sahu is a former banker, who had a wonderful time writing her fantasy adventure novel for young people, Riddle of the Seventh Stone. She has also authored Rabindranath Tagore: The Renaissance Man. Her short fiction has been widely anthologized in India and abroad. She writes opinion pieces and feature stories on literature, art and culture for Deccan Herald and other reputed publications. She lives in Bangalore, India, with her extended family of people, a vintage PC, and countless arthropods. Connect with her at www.monideepa.blogspot.in.

Buy Going home in the rain By Monideepa Sahu HERE 

Riddle of the Seventh Stone Review

Cover Picture credit

Book Review: Nargisa's Adventures by Manjul Bajaj

The sequel to Manjul Bajaj’s children’s book series, Elbie’s Quest, is a delightful book, called Nargisa’s Adventures.

Nargisa, the Golden Heart Giving Flower, with red and blue petals, which changed hues, graced since times immemorial, Rangeeli Duniya, showering it with honey and gifts, patron of good times.  When her petals changed hues, very slowly, the worker bees made honey and when they changed to red, it was time to give honey away as gifts. But of late, the colours changed so fast that the worker bees in the factory are exhausted and Queen Bee is very annoyed with Nargisa, for causing the worker bees to work too hard and almost die of exhaustion. This gave Nargisa, the mother of headaches at nights, crowded by Dream Boats and Night Mares. She confides her problem to Titli, her Chief Gusher, who very prudently advices her to take a break. And guess where they are both are headed to? None other than, Elbie’s Soul Café, where, Elbie, the Big Little Tree brews and serves, vials of “Pick Me Up”, “Slow Me Down, “A Dash of Hope”, “A Stirring of Sympathy” .

Nargisa is refreshed and confides her problem to Elbie’s companion, the very smart wolf, Aluf, who then becomes instrumental to finding out where the problem really lies – why is Nargisa’s Golden Isle threatened to near extinction.

Packed with riddles, wild flight of imagination, lots of adventure, sci-fi too, the book is a sheer delight for the reader, I would think between age 12 – 80 and above.

Evil connives against good and entice all who live in Rangeeli Duniya, to follow them.

But does he succeed?

Read it in the most fascinating story you will ever read in Children’s Literature from writers in English, in India.

With excellent illustrations by Shreya Sen, the story comes to life and would be a fun read for kids and all, who love and care for a Sunday afternoon, with a refreshing book to read.

The humour is side-splitting and lifts the spirit sky high.

Here are some parts I loved much .

Tongue twister: “How much Greek can a gaggle of geese speak after a gaggle of geese have been to a geek to learn to speak Greek?”

Riddle: “Tell me, what grows down as it grows up?”

Play of words, bring so much humour:

“Nice place you have here, “said Titli.

“No, no. No plays, my dear. I’m afraid, we don’t have any shows or performances for our guests.”

“Absolutely brilliant – the stuffy nose,” Elbie repeated with a fond smile washing over her face.

“Does your friend Aluf have a cold?” Asked Titli

“Aluf has a cold? Who told you that?” Asked Elbie……” I said, my friend Aluf is brilliant. He is very well-read and the stuff he knows is amazing.”

“Gosh!” said Titli, putting her palms on her ears daintily. “I don’t think we are going to find any peace here.”

“That’s right, my dear,” a tiny voice piped up from nowhere, “If you want peas, it is better you head for the vegetable market down the road….”

And many other laugh out loud stuff all over the book.

Go, savour and enjoy, the delight of “Nargisa’s Adventures.” No harm in getting Eblie's Quest too! It's FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

Publisher: Scholastic India
Author: Manjul Bajaj
Illustrator: Shreya Sen
Pages: 176
Price: Kindle Rs 125; Paperback: Rs 156

Where Time Stands Still

Three generations of women with their children

Only a few kilometres from a diversion, as you move towards G D Goenka World University, on Sohna Road, Gurgaon, Haryana, you drive into a rough road that takes you inside villages, in the midst of wheat and mustard fields, with the Aravali mountains watching over. You might want to stop for a cup of tea and a little chat, but alas, there are no shops of that nature. So you drive deep till you arrive at a little space, with a cemented house, touching shoulders with rich farm houses, which are permanently unoccupied. But the rustic, house of the farmer, is large and spacious and houses, buffaloes, cats and dogs, robust men and hard working women.

The daily work begins at 3.30 am, while the rest of the world sleeps, the entire household is up and about, feeding the buffaloes and milking them. Indeed, by 6 am, the milk is transported to the city of Gurgaon, for the consumers, who prefer fresh milk instead of the packaged Mother Diary milk, available across Haryana. The day, ends only at 10 pm, after another round of milking the cow at 3.30 pm and then taking the milk once again to sell in Gurgaon, where, the glass faced corporate buildings, stare at each other, broken occasionally by off-white, well-designed houses, where people live, with only potted plants.

However, the Haryana government in its wisdom thinks that villagers, farmers, who need their sleep at night, must still have power in their muscles and just at bedtime, it diverts water and electricity to be used for watering the fields, where wheat, mustard and other vegetables grow.  From 10 pm to 4 am, this goes on. The farmers have a philosophy by which they live; accept what is available and use it to fulfill your needs. Hence, the entire household, in turns, stays awake to water the fields.

The social fabric of the people, sees, men and women slog alike, with some rest, in between. Indeed, the labour output between the sexes, is almost at par. But, don’t think, dear reader, that men and women share equal power. No, when the men are visible, the women in the household are not. They hide inside the kitchen, their rooms but no sooner the men are out of sight, they come centre stage, joyous and chatty as ever. Remember, these women are in purdah, and their voices are not heard. They are the ones, who are given in child marriage, to old men and boys, youth and uneducated alike, because, child marriage, still prevails, in these societies, in full view and knowledge of the police and politicians. We also know that the community is rigid, and caste is so deeply ingrained in their minds, that should a girl and a boy, dare to marry outside the caste, the entire village will stand and support, honourkilling.

And, even as you sign them off as gone case, and may even shun to drink milk, chhach and curd, made by rough, proletariat hands that have slogged from 4 to 6 am to produce the milk that will be at your breakfast table, or be a part of your morning coffee, in pockets, you find, in the midst of a society stuck in time, a spiritual guru, who is well-versed in Vedanta, the philosophy, most cherished by many in India and the world – the philosophy that rests on a simple fact, that the world is unreal, like the dreamer and the dream, which no matter how real, when dreaming, ceases to exist, when the dreamer wakes up. Likewise, the world is an illusion, like a dream, which ceases to be, once one attains Knowledge, or Samadhi.

Juxtaposed, against each other, stilled in time, extremes co-exist in villages in Haryana, where, atrocities against women, thrive, while, on the other hand so does the highest philosophy called Vedanta. Although, yet again, no matter what, she would never be allowed to go to an ashram, all by herself, without her husband, brother, father or the rest of the women folk in the family tagging along.

How much longer will it take, for society to burn the chains that bind it to the past? Will the law enforcing agencies, politicians and men ensure that there is no window that looks out towards a clear blue sky?

Will the dreamer, never wake up?

To view the pictures CLICK HERE

First Person: Surupa Chatterjee recalls the day, Saddam Hussain stormed Kuwait

The year was 1990. It had been a few months only since I began to live in Calcutta, as I stepped into my early months in College, pursuing a Bachelor's Degree. My parents had come down from Kuwait, which had been my home for a few years. They were scheduled to go back on 3rd August when a sudden storm hit our lives. In a totally unexpected and shocking turn of events our lives were turned upside down as just past midnight, Iraq invading Kuwait on 2nd August 1990.

All of a sudden, it meant a series of uncertainties.

The internet age had not quite set in then and we were left with routine means like Newspapers, Television and a few odd calls from friends, and friends of friends who were either stuck in either shore - India or Kuwait - as the case might be. Overnight my father became almost unemployed and a worry wart as all his funds was stuck in Kuwait. 

At that time, Kuwait was a prosperous oil rich state and the invasion by Saddam Hussein's young army of recruits, did create a huff around the world, when, they landed overnight with guns and other lethal warfare and threatening all citizens alike.

Indeed, I was fortunate that my parents, escaped by the skin of their teeth, the unpleasant situation of being stranded in Kuwait and not really knowing which way their fates would take them. We heard stories of our very close friends being paraded in open desert and looted at gun point. Some were kicked and slapped around while most prayed for the Indian High commission in coordination with Indian government to work a miracle and do a rescue mission.

There were a few worries among the Indian expatriate population for antagonizing the sentiments of the local Kuwaiti population as news coverage showed the then External Affairs Minister Shri.I.K.Gujral embracing Saddam Hussein as old friends. Thankfully, after many days of fear and tension most of our friends in Kuwait did manage to get Airlifted back to the safe shores of India albeit the shock and trauma of the sudden invasion.

My fathers’ office was blown to smithereens, oil wells set on fire, our residential building had bullet holes and our abandoned apartments were thoroughly looted and left in a messy rubble of rejected items.

Yes, things did look up after eleven months when my father was called back to duty and he rejoined a new office building but the fire that had set in the quietness of the small peaceful state never really got back the earlier air. Some things had changed. Yes my father did get UN compensation, yes he was lucky to have escaped direct confrontation with the then enemy, while his state was being occupied and it still left a deep impact in our lives.

Surupa Chatterjee was born In Digboi, Assam and lived in Duliajan, an oil township in northeast India. Her fathers’ work took their family to Bhubaneshwar and then Kuwait. Surupa grew up in Kuwait and schooled there as well.  She is presently based in Kolkata, where she works during daytime and makes delicious dinners for the evening meal. 

Also read: Events that Lead Up To The Film Airlift

MoEA GoI expresses strong reservation against Airlift story line HERE

Not so much a film review - Airlift

Courtesy: Wikipedia 

Background:

After the end of the Iran-Iraq war, between Ayatollah Khomeini of Iran and Saddam Hussain in Iran, a battle that went on for 8 long years, Iraq was saddled with debt of $30 billion to Kuwait, which Saddam requested to be forgiven.  Kuwait refused. Saddam pushed oil-exporting countries to raise oil prices by cutting back production but again Kuwait refused. In addition to refusing the request, Kuwait spearheaded the opposition in OPEC to the cuts that Saddam had requested. Kuwait, literally back by US, was pumping large amounts of oil, thus keeping prices low, when Iraq needed to sell high-priced oil from its wells to pay off a huge debt. The Gulf War may have started 8 years ago, with Iran-Iraq, but it gained force, as USSR used the situation to pump arms and ammunition to Iraqi forces.

August 2, 1990

“At about 2 a.m. local time, Iraqi forces invade Kuwait, Iraq’s tiny, oil-rich neighbor. Kuwait’s defense forces were rapidly overwhelmed, and those that were not destroyed retreated to Saudi Arabia. The Amir of Kuwait, his family, and other government leaders fled to Saudi Arabia, and within hours Kuwait City had been captured and the Iraqis had established a provincial government. By annexing Kuwait, Iraq gained control of 20 percent of the world’s oil reserves and, for the first time, a substantial coastline on the Persian Gulf. “(See LINK )

Saddam had always argued that Kuwait was historically an integral part of Iraq, and that Kuwait had only come into being through the maneuverings of British imperialism See LINK) this echoed a belief that Iraqi nationalists had voiced for the past 50 years. This belief was one of the few articles of faith uniting the political scene in a nation rife with sharp social, ethnic, religious, and ideological divides.

In the background of this, the film Airlift is made.

Ranjit Katiyal (Akshay Kumar), is a successful businessman in Kuwait, who likes to call himself a Kuwaiti. He is ruthless and politically well connected. But in the face of the Amir of Iraq fleeing away with his family, Akshay Kumar is left with his family and 170,000 Indian workforce in Kuwait. Suddenly, the ruthless man is unable to go run away with his family, leaving the entire people behind him.

In perhaps one of his most controlled roles, Akshay, plays negotiator and prime mover taking with him, all the people, who are now refugees in Kuwait, occupied by Iraq.

The film brings out the lameness of the Indian government, in crisis situation abroad, but does not fail to cheer the greatness of our national carrier, Air India, which supplied the planes and the pilots, previously unwilling to fly over war zones.

“The 1990 airlift of Indians from Kuwait was carried out from 13 August to 11 October 1990 after the Invasion of Kuwait. Air India holds the Guinness Book of World Records for the most people evacuated by a civil airliner as a result of this effort. The operation was carried out during the Persian Gulf War in 1990 to evacuate Indian expatriates from Kuwait and Iraq. It is believed to be the largest civilian evacuation in history. The Indians based in Kuwait also helped in the evacuation efforts.” (See LINK) 

The film ends as the Indians salute Katiyal as they board the planes that will take them home.

Some effort that!

Why must you see the movie? Click Here’s Why

AIRLIFT MUSIC Download Now

Directed by:

Raja Krishna Menon

Cast

Akshay Kumar as Ranjit Katyal

Nimrat Kaur as Amrita Katyal

Feryna Wazheir as Tasneem

Inaamulhaq as Major Khalaf bin Zayd

Lena as Deepti Jayarajan

Purab Kohli as Ibrahim Durrani

Prakash Belawadi as George Kutty

Arun Bali as Bauji

Ninad Kamat as Kurien

Kaizaad Kotwal as Poonawalla

Surendra Pal as External Affairs minister

Kumud Mishra as Sanjeev Kohli

Abida Hussain as Simran(Simu)[11]

Click for Reference: 

MoEA GoI expresses strong reservation against Airlift story line HERE 

When four letter words were not in fashion

And Insults Had Class...

 These glorious insults are from an era before the English language got boiled down to 4-letter words.

A Member of Parliament to Disraeli:

"Sir, you will either die on the gallows or of some unspeakable disease.

"That depends, Sir, " said Depends Disraeli, "whether I embrace your policies or your mistress."

 "He had delusions of adequacy.”

-Walter Kerr 

"He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire."

- Winston Churchill

"I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure."

-Clarence Darrow

"He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary."

-William Faulkner (about Ernest Hemingway)

"Thank you for sending me a copy of your book; I'll waste no time reading it."

-Moses Hadas

"I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it."

-Mark Twain

"He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends."

-Oscar Wilde

"I am enclosing two tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a friend, if you have one."

-George Bernard Shaw to Winston Churchill

 

"Cannot possibly attend first night, will attend second... if there is one."

-Winston Churchill, in response

"I feel so miserable without you; it's almost like having you here."

-Stephen Bishop

"He is a self-made man and worships his creator."

-John Bright

"I've just learned about his illness. Let's hope it's nothing trivial."

-Irvin S. Cobb

"He is not only dull himself; he is the cause of dullness in others."

-Samuel Johnson

"He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up."

- Paul Keating

"In order to avoid being called a flirt, she always yielded easily."

-Charles, Count Talleyrand

"He loves nature in spite of what it did to him."

-Forrest Tucker

"Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?"

-Mark Twain

"His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork."

-Mae West

"Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go."

-Oscar Wilde

"He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts... for support rather than illumination."

-Andrew Lang (1844-1912)

"He has Van Gogh's ear for music."

-Billy Wilder

"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But I'm afraid this wasn't it."

-Groucho Marx

Via Email

And the unmentionable sound was not used in Advertisements.

Killing Me Sweetly!

The neighbourhood “kiranawala” or your  Departmental Stores from which we buy our daily food and beverages needs, is a storehouse of information. I, for one never miss a conversation with the neighbourhood kiranawala near my house. The talks vary, from food to spirituality, if the senior fellow is around, but with his younger one, who rarely can look up from #WhatApp, the conversation is short and crisp.

“I am looking for stuff without sugar, sweeteners and …” I started but was cut short by his curt response. Looking at me with a sneer, he said,

“Well then, you can’t buy anything! Even bread – plain bread, has added sugar in it!”

I must confess, dear reader, I am a bit obsessed with Sugar, blood sugar I mean. My maternal grandmother had it, which she inherited from her mother and passed it generously to almost all of her children. My mother was the worst hit – she was Type I, that is to say, she developed Diabetes as a young adult, and it finally took her life, although she was so disciplined and followed all the rules and dietary regulations throughout her life. I was the second born, the first, having died in her womb from sweet (Blood Sugar) poisoning. I have inherited from my mother, her discipline with food and knowledge on the subject of diabetes, because I was often with her when she checked up with Doctors.

One thing is very clear, that from the last few decades, industry, food, pharmaceutical and medical, have been in the Unholy Trinity of scoundrels aiming to kill masses sweetly and making huge profits before they do it.

Think: If everything has sugar in it, then, how much sucrose/dextrose will your body be able to absorb?  It perhaps needs only 120 gms maximum per day. So where is the rest going to go? They will run around in your blood quite naturally!

Think:  If sugar, sucrose/dextrose comes from refined sugar and carbohydrates, how much harder the body must work to break down carbohydrates and sugar, so that they can be used for energy.

Think:  If food industry works to increase the level of sugar in your blood, will not pharmaceutical companies join hands to help you manage the excess in your blood? And if they manufacture, it is because these drugs are in demand from the medical fraternity. Hence, it has been a successful threesome marriage that has lasted for decades now. Not to mention though, that there are drugs which may help cure one thing, while as a side effect increase sugar level in your blood.

Think:  At one time, Fasting Blood Sugar, which meant, you tested your blood for sugar, without drinking any liquid in the morning, used to be 80 – 120mg/dl, while postprandial (PP) which is tested 2 hours after meals, as recommended by The American Diabetes Association, postprandial glucose level under 180 mg/dl and a preprandial plasma glucose between 70–130 mg/dl, was the norm. But now, the numbers have been brought down to:  70 – 110mg/dl for fasting BS and 80 – 130mg/dl for postprandial.

Result? Almost everyone has diabetes when blood is tested! WHO has predicted that the estimated count in India alone of diabetics is as follows:  Year 2000: 31,705,000; Year 2030: 79,441,000 (See below for WHO Source) Doctors are trained not to talk of dietary control only; it is their profession to administer drugs and then talk of diet. Hence, even if the pancreatic glands are doing their job, pumping in insulin into the body, which breaks down the sugar to sucrose and dextrose which can be absorbed by the body, they will stop to produce the hormone, once it is coming into the body externally. The brain will signal off the production of insulin by the pancreatic gland. Voila! Work done! One more will willy-nilly become a diabetic.

Logic: Morphine addicts have given common man a clue to what happens inside the body, when, morphine, which is produced normally by the body in small quantities, is injected from an external source. The body stops to manufacture morphine, because, only a little is required daily by the body, which it produces. However, on receiving it externally, the body, in time grows tolerant to the external feed and craves more, to bring in the same result, which is called “tolerance” to a drug. Apply the same to insulin and the result is the same. So now, the patient first requires the drug to control the sugar, then the body develops tolerance to that drug and the doctor prescribes another drug; the patient responds, but gets tolerant to that drug too and finally insulin is injected to achieve the same result. The end is near, but the treatment has taken a long cycle, filling the coffers of the medical and pharmaceutical industry.

Think: Isn’t it time to take our health in our hands? It does not take much medical consultation at all, only mining up grandmother’s kitchen, mid-safe recipe to good health, relying on natural foods, nature cure, as taught by qualified and passionate people, like Gandhi ji’s Nature Cure (See references below) to take our bodies in our hands.

It is a fundamental right that I OWN the RIGHT to my body and what I WANT you to do to it.

So stop killing me sweetly, Medicine men and women! And driven by greed industry! You are playing a deadly song!

References:

Preprandial/Postprandial: CLICK HERE 

Daily Intake of Sugar: CLICK HERE

Grandma’s From the Kitchen and Backyard: CLICK HERE 

Gandhi ji’s Nature Cure CLICK HERE 

World Health Organization Data on Diabetes CLICK HERE 

Credit Unknown. Picture from somewhere on the Internet

My Mashi's Guitar

It was all forgotten! For year we did not remember that she ever possessed one. But one fine day, I saw a post on facebook which reminded me vaguely that my mashi, who passed away a year and a half ago had a guitar she loved to play.

She was a Physicist with a musical mind, my youngest mashi (my mother’s youngest sister) and while she was studying in Kolkata, she had acquired a guitar and often played on it, I remember, when I was little.

I remember clearly now that when she came to Shillong where I lived in my childhood, she carried an additional case with her, inside which was her guitar. She would sit on a stool and place the guitar on her lap and strum away at it, while I watched fully engrossed in it. The first sound of music played to my ear was stored in my brain.

Then for many decades everyone including my aunt forgot all about it. When I saw that picture on facebook, suddenly, as if from the past, the memory of the guitar came back to me. Since my mashi was no longer alive, I asked her son, where that guitar was which belonged to his mother.

“No,” he said, “as far as I know, she never spoke of guitars and she never said that she ever played one.”

Something hit me hard.

In the scurry for Degrees, Service, Jobs and marriages, we tend to put away much of ourselves away, as we travel along in life and never re-visit that past, which at one time was so dear to us. Not only that, as we forget parts of ourselves which are what we chose for ourselves at one time, others around us forget about it too. Displacing needs of the past with needs of the present is what seems most natural to many of us.

Until, the revival of that memory becomes a life and death situation.

After my brother’s response, I called my elder sister in Kolkata.

“Did you want that guitar? It was with me all these years, almost 50 years, but only a few days ago, I gave it to the watchman.”

I was aghast! A wild search began to get the guitar back and fortunately, miracles of all miracles, we were able to retrieve it back.

I don’t want to ever forget that part of my life, when, as a child I never wanted my mashi to go away to Kolkata in between. I resented it very much and would cry and howl when I knew she would be gone again for a long period of time. I longed for her to return to me and play her guitar.

She had a little trick for me in those days, which she used as an incentive to engage my mind in other activities till she returned to Shillong. It was learning by heart one or two poems from Rabindranath Tagore’s book of poems called “Sanchaita”, which I did very diligently, so that I could recite the poems by heart, when she returned from Kolkata. I didn’t know the long absences were because she was studying in Presidency College, Kolkata, then.

And I wonder if she knew then, that I would in her absence, remember the guitar, she too had forgotten in her lifetime.

The soul which struggled so much for a month, while the search for the guitar was on, has now found rest, as the guitar lies on my bed, in my home in Kolkata, waiting for me to carry her on my lap and play her strings, just like Chotomoni used to do, when I was a child.

I can never forget or ever put away from my memory that part of myself, which is my Chotomoni. 

Photo Credit Here

Book Review - Crimson City by Madhulika Liddle

You invariably breathe a sigh of relief, as you come to the end of Crimson City, the last addition to the Muzaffar Jang Mysteries, by Madhulika Liddle, for at long last, having run the entire length of the book, the last few pages being literally a hundred meter sprint, finally the serial killer in Shahjahanabad is nabbed, thanks to the timely intervention of Shireen, the newly wed, very intellectual bride of Muzaffar Jang, our 17th Century detective of the Mughal period, in Dilli. Allah be praised!

A rather long detective novel no doubt, but beautifully laced with description of Shahjahanabad, old Dilli, of now, with all its lanes and gallis, havelis, gardens and hamaams, the reader is taken on leisurely walk around, albeit constantly in doubt of every character he encounters along the way, for it is not just one murder, the killer of which is at large, but several killings, all within days, probably only a week, and mostly in and around the same haveli.

At first, the kotwal of Dilli, Khan Sahib is loath to allow his brother-in-law, the brilliant detective by habit, Muzaffar Jang, whom the reader has encountered in all the Muzaffar Jang stories, four in all, in the past, to interfere and poke his nose in matters of this serial killings in Shahjahanabad, but, the young nobleman, with his just married wife, Shireen, find it hard to stay away from the goings on and tend to go on their own quest for the killer, all of which helps to nab the culprit finally.

Not an easy story this one, because of the multiple murders, one after another, with no trace of any apparent motive, nor any tell-tale signs left behind, a maze of happenings, all seeming to connect and yet, totally unconnected, till one comes to the last few pages and in quite a surprising end, the motive and the killer is revealed, which the reader didn’t get a whiff of throughout the novel.

So then, is it okay to read the first few pages of Crimson City and rush to the last few, if one is an impatient reader? Quite obviously no! Such an error would invariably make the reader, lose track of the nail-biting build up and the many frustrations, as one travels along with Muzaffar Jang and Shireen, hurrying here and scurrying there to zero down on the killer, and participating in the gossip of men and women inside the haveli, all making a juicy read, to savour in leisure and abandon of yesteryear, when it was not a compulsion to complete reading within minutes. The author has woven stories inside stories with such adept mastery of story-telling, the reader would be lost, if the entire story with the big surprise at the end, was not read completely.

Of all the Muzaffar Jung series, this book is for keeps. The reason is simple – Liddle has poured her ink thickly on the pages and details of Shahjahanabad, are finely woven into the text. It is a masterpiece of good writing in English by an Indian author, who has made her mark among period detective novel writers worldwide. You may check her out in Wikipedia.  In Crimson City, which is a very apt title for this the last of the Muzaffar Jang Stories, the author’s thoughts around issues of religion and communities are expertly delivered in the lines, so that for the conscious reader, a few nuggets of ideology are for keeps as well.

The book suffers from a few drawbacks though. The first being, there are too many characters and one must then have a notebook around to jot down who is related to whom. Second, even at the last, our kotwal sahib’s insistence of his brother-in-laws interference in finding out the killer, is not explained, although it is Muzaffar Jang and his wife’s diligent study and snooping around which finally lead to the killer. Third, one really could not understand why the Hindu element was woven into the tale, and to what purpose? Fourth, was it not possible to have a tighter manuscript, even if that meant, losing out of a purani Dilli, Shahjahanabad experience, of leisure and time in hand? Last, but not the least, the reference to Jesus Christ, in pg 208, needs verification to find out by what name he was called in Shahjahanabad. Or his reference replaced?

However, one must be totally satisfied with this fact, that even if one has never read a Muzaffar Jang story before, this is a standalone book and is a must read, and one to keep forever, as I will. The last finale of the Muzaffar Jang Mysteries, placed in the spring of 1657, left me in tears when I read the last words, in Acknowledgements – 

“......And last but not the least, my family, without whose unwavering support and love (even if often biased and blind beyond belief) this book might never have got written.”

Doesn’t that sum up what is in many of our hearts, too?

Book details:

Title: Crimson City

Author: Madhulika Liddle

Publisher: Hachette India

Pages: 326

Price: Rs 296 (in October) 

To buy this book Click HERE

Also read: Madhulika Liddle's Blog

Blast from the past: Madhulika Liddle: Engraved in Stone Interview With The Author

Beef Vindaloo at Bombay Meri Jaan!

Courtesy lorem ipsum ‏@loremipsum666  

Guess who were my best friends in Mumbai? Indeed, how would you know!

They were Cookie, Dina, Oscar, Anu and Rinky.

All of them lived very near my home and during the school days, I visited them often. 

You might now like to ask me the reason?

Ask any foodie like me, and the reason can be only be one, that being exotic lunches:

Good Times – wine, music and merriment which went on through the year, reaching feverish pitch just before Christmas and peaking on January 1^st every year.

Check out more Beef Vindaloo on Twitter. Click HERE

Probe - The Ranbaxy–Fortis–Raligare-Radha Swami Beas Quadriangle

So why am I not surprised at the news that Fortis Healthcare Executive Vice Chairman, Shivender Mohan Singh is giving up his role to join the Radha Swami Beas movement in Beas, near Amritsar?

In reports found on this website  it is reported that the present Guru of Radha Swami Beas, Gurinder Singh Dhillon has made $ 254 million and the owner of Logos Holding Company which acquired 19.53% of Raligare Enterprises in 2010.

"The capital market regulator has granted exemption to Logos Holding Company from making an open offer to the shareholders of Religare Enterprises for its acquisition of 19.53% stake in the company. Logos Holding is an investment arm of the Gurinder Singh Dhillon family.

Gurinder Singh is the current head of one of India's largest religious sect – Radha Soami Satsang Beas. At Thursday's closing price of Rs 460.95, the value of Logos Holding's stake is about Rs 1,163 crore. The Dhillons had acquired the shares at just over Rs 13 crore in 2006. - See HERE  

The said share holders of Raligare Enterprises are none other than, the two brothers, Shivender Mohan Singh and his elder brother, Mavinder Mohan Singh.

”Singh and older brother Malvinder Mohan Singh, 43, own about 71% of the company. The Singh family's stake in Fortis Healthcare is worth Rs 5,636 crore while its holding in Religare Enterprises is valued at Rs 2,693 crore based on current market cap.”

Read MORE

So now, when the Guru owns 19.53% stake in Raligare Enterprises, it is like coming home to where the business has always been. If Fortis was all about profits, then, going to Beas may not totally be for ‘seva’ only, in the light of the fact that Radha Swami Beas has come up with its own hospital at Beas and is actively urging followers to donate organs after death.

So is there a new business coming up then, for organs to be sold at exorbitant prices, within India and abroad?

The honourable father of the Singh brothers Ranbir Singh, left a legacy of shame, the world of medicine will loathe to forget. Thankfully, Wikipedia comes handy. Sample this:

Issues [faced by Ranbaxy]

During 2004–2005, Dinesh Thakur and Rajinder Kumar, two Indian employees of Ranbaxy, blew the whistle on Ranbaxy's fabrication of drug test reports. Thakur's office computer was soon found tampered with. Ranbaxy then accused Thakur of visiting graphic websites using his office computer, forcing him to resign in 2005. Thakur escaped from India to the USA and contacted the Food and Drug Administration which started investigating his claims.

As a result, on 16 September 2008, the Food and Drug Administration issued two warning letters to Ranbaxy Laboratories Ltd. and an Import Alert for generic drugs produced by two manufacturing plants in India. By 25 February 2009 the US Food and Drug Administration said it halted reviews of all drug applications including data developed at Ranbaxy's Paonta Sahib plant in India because of a practice of falsified data and test results in approved and pending drug applications.

On 8 February 2012, three batches of the proton-pump inhibitor Pantoprazole were recalled in the Netherlands due to the presence of impurities.

On 9 November 2012, Ranbaxy halted production and recalled forty-one lots of atorvastatin due to glass particles being found in some bottles. Also in 2012, an apparent dosage mistake was reported in which 20 mg tablets were found in a bottle of atorvastatin labeled as containing 10 mg tablets; this led in 2014 to the voluntary recall in the United States of some 64,000 bottles.

In May 2013 the US fined the company US$500 million after it was found guilty of misrepresenting clinical generic drug data and selling adulterated drugs to the United States.

In September 2013, further problems were reported, including apparent human hair in a tablet, oil spots on other tablets, toilet facilities without running water, and a failure to instruct employees to wash their hands after using the toilet.[17][18] Ranbaxy is prohibited from manufacturing FDA-regulated drugs at the Mohali facility until the company complies with U.S. drug manufacturing requirements.

Ranbaxy has cleared some regulatory approval hurdles with approval for production at various facilities. Its Gurgaon based plant & Romania R&D centres got FDA approval. Also in March, Ranbaxy's Paonta Sahib plant in Himachal Pradesh, which has faced a US regulatory ban since 2008, was also cleared in a joint inspection by five global drug regulatory agencies of the UK, Canada, the WHO and Singapore. (Credit Wikipedia )

Acquisition

In June 2008, Daiichi-Sankyo acquired a 34.8% stake in Ranbaxy,for a value $2.4 billion. In November 2008, Daiichi-Sankyo completed the takeover of the company from the founding Singh family in a deal worth $4.6 billion by acquiring a 63.92% stake in Ranbaxy. Ranbaxy's Malvinder Singh remained as CEO after the transaction. (Credit Wikipedia )

It is believed that Daiichi-Sankyo were duped and were not aware of the liability they would have to bear in the US market. As soon as they had paid off the liability, they took the best step forward. For Daiichi, Ranbaxy was more of a liability, than a profit making venture. 

"On 7 April 2014 India based Sun Pharmaceutical and Japan based Daiichi Sankyo jointly announced the sale of entire 63.4% share from Daiichi Sankyo to Sun Pharma in a $4 billion all share deal. Under these agreements, shareholders of Ranbaxy, will receive 0.8 share of Sun Pharmaceutical for each share of Ranbaxy. After this acquisition, the partner Daiichi-Sankyo will hold a stake of 9% in Sun Pharmaceutical. The combination of Sun Pharma and Ranbaxy creates the fifth-largest specialty generics company in the world and the largest pharmaceutical company in India.” (Credit Wikipedia )

It certainly is time to move on to the next “seva” venture, Mr Shivender Mohan Singh! Especially, when you come to think of who are the millions of followers who throng the dera in Beas – mostly the poor, the Dalits of Punjab and those who trust Guru Gurinder Singh explicitly.

Read more: HERE

About Radha Swami Beas Hospitals: Click HERE 

Ranbaxy Brothers fined $400 million Click HERE

Train on schedule but train not started!

(Why Indian Railways needs to be privatized)

A background

Twice this month, September 2015, traveling to Mumbai and later from Beas to New Delhi, I have witnessed a new phenomenon with the Indian Railways.

In the first instance, I was traveling to Mumbai, by a superfast train with only 5 stops in between. However, the train was late by 4 hours, arriving in Mumbai at an hour which completely ruined the entire days work, scheduled in advance.

It was not known to me, nor any announcement made on Internet, 139 Tollfree Indian Railways line, on newspapers or any other communication medium, that due to faulty lines and subsequent repair thereof, all trains travelling to Delhi or outside, running through Ballabgarh would be delayed by 3 – 4 hours for a period of a week. Had this been broadcasted, many passengers like myself would choose another route/or travel means to arrive at our destination, having cancelled our ticket, albeit late.

Further, the train scheduled to start at 8.30 pm, finally was rescheduled to 11.55 pm. Indeed, it did not start till, 11.58 pm and then went ahead and got stuck at Ballabhgadh for the next 4 hours!

How Railways make their money

Taking the above mentioned example, jJust look at the roughish Indian Railways – had the train started at 12 midnight, then it would have been mandatory for the railways to refund the entire ticket amount to each and every passenger on the train, because the ticket would have automatically been cancelled due to train not starting on the day it was booked for.

Second, that the train was late was not announced, till, the hour of scheduled departure, so passengers were left with no choice, except to wait for the train to leave at its rescheduled time. Or forgo the entire ticket money and return home. This would in turn leave empty berths which the Ticket Collector on the train could sell to people who board the train without reservation, rampant in India, still.

Not an exception but a rule

Indeed, the pattern is the same with all trains. There is no announcement that warns the passenger in time that the train is later, until the eleventh hour.

As it happened, I faced the same predicament when after a tiresome tour of Punjab, I waited to board the Swarn Shatabdi at Beas. Again, no announcement was made, till the scheduled departure time, that the train was late. When I checked the internet, it said, train on schedule time, but train not started. When I called 139, the Tollfree number, it said, the train is late by 2 hours! Again the passenger is left with no choice, but to wait.

Most people argue that the Railways in India is doing a great job. I beg to differ.

Given the fact that it is a Service Oriented industry, there are no excuses for poor quality food on trains, frequent delays of trains, lack of proper intimation to passengers on delays, exorbitantly priced tickets with no ROI.

Indeed, it is far better to travel by plane, but for the traveler who enjoys the train journey, to catch up on sleep, reading, relaxing, talking to fellow passengers, I guess the time has come to say, Goodbye, dear traveler! Our paths may never cross again….  

Until the private sector take over Indian Railways, which is a monopoly, ailing, diseased and dying on a sick bed.  

Picture: From the net

Pussy Love and the Subconscious

Doctors recommend a pet if you are alone or depressed. They say having pets is good for the heart. There is a constant yearning among humans to share love and affection, to become a provider and a nurturer to life, whether they come in the form of animals, plants, trees, dogs or cats.

I once had such a friend who was passing through some really bad time. Her dachshund filled her every moment of life with his constant presence. Like her, he was alone, never allowed to have a mate, never let out in the open without her leading him on the leash. He even went to work with her as she was self-employed.

As many stories you want to hear about animals and their human bonding, that many stories and more are available for you.

But I was interested in Freud and his interpretation of cats in relation to man and women.

It is not surprising that dogs seem to be a man’s best friend and status symbol, as a cat may be a woman’s best choice.

Looking up straigtdopedotcom HERE  I came across some very interesting answers. Let me quote in Dogs VS Cats – A Freudian Theory.

Spoke said: “I have this theory that women tend to prefer cats as pets because cats exhibit "typical" or "stereotypical" male behavior: emotionally detached, independent to the point of being distant, cuddly - but only when they want to be, etc. etc. Similarly, I think men prefer dogs as pets because we see in dogs various "female" (or idealized female) traits: nurturing (always there for you when you need 'em), unconditionally loving, plus they will fetch things for you! 

Now maybe I'm wrong about my basic premise, that women (with exceptions) tend to prefer cats, and men (again with exceptions) tend to prefer dogs. But just based upon my own observations that seem to be the trend.”

Cher3 said: “I think statistics would probably bear out your observation about preferences, but you could just as well argue that women like cats because they are graceful and fastidious ("feminine" traits)and men like dogs because they are hierarchical animals who like to hang around in packs ("masculine" traits). Of course, it's typical of Freudian explanations for things that you can twist them to come out anyway you want.”

Further Cher3 continues: “I think statistics would probably bear out your observation about preferences, but you could just as well argue that women like cats because they are graceful and fastidious ("feminine" traits)and men like dogs because they are hierarchical animals who like to hang around in packs ("masculine" traits). Of course, it's typical of Freudian explanations for things that you can twist them to come out anyway you want.”

Mangeorge argues: “I think it may be simpler than that. Continuing the generalities; Dogs do as they're told. Men like that, women don't care. Cats are peaceful. Women like that, men don't care. Peace!”

Amen!

But really where the cat deification came from was Egypt. Freud might have got his inspiration from there, with four daughters of his own too.

Check this video

Photo Credit HERE