by admin | May 25, 2021 | Books
By Vikas Datta,
Title: Solstice at Panipat; Author: Uday S. Kulkarni; Publisher: Mula Mutha Publishers; Pages: 319; Price: Rs 450
In contemporary times, most nations have elections which govern their future. But scarcely a century or so back, the course of nations was decided by contests of arms — between adherents of different religions, between invaders and natives, or between rivals to a throne — and this binary construct of “good” and “bad” forces influences how we see history.
Be it the clash at Hydespes (or Jhelum) between Alexander’s Greeks and Porus’ army, the Kalinga war, the series of conflicts at Tarain or at Panipat, Plassey, Buxar and many others down to 1857, a broad swathe of Indian history’s course is rooted in the outcome of battles — apart from those in religious mythology whose lessons are lost to time, or those which, while witnessing feats of individual bravery, didn’t have any significant historical impact.
But can these major battles be reduced to simple cause and effect scenarios as per our largely uninspired textbooks? Or as black and white issues, as made out by partisan popular accounts (e.g. comics)? Or as depicted by vested interests in the present to show the past as they would have wanted it so that they can seize the future? Not at all.
Let’s take the watershed Third Battle of Panipat (in 1761) in context over half a century or more of turbulent power politics across the Indian subcontinent — as this meticulously-researched and balanced account does.
It is generally believed — or we are led to believe — that this battle came about as the Marathas, sweeping up from their western homeland to secure “Indian” boundaries and free its oppressed peoples, clashed with the latest cruel and rapacious invader who was fighting for his religion and had a greedy eye on India’s wealth. But the Marathas were betrayed and, after a courageous stand, butchered.
This, however, is a most simple — and most misleading — view of this seminal event that aided the subcontinent’s British colonisers (who won two major battles as Panipat was being fought), contends surgeon-cum-historian Uday S. Kulkarni, who served in the Indian Navy for 16 years before switching to civilian practice while indulging his historical curiousity.
Drawing on primary sources like correspondence of key figures on all sides and contemporary accounts, including reports in British newspapers as well as field visits to prominent places, Kulkarni brings out several significant points about the battle and its background, which are much needed to understand the “why, how and what”.
These include, but are not limited to, how the Marathas saw the Mughal rulers and what political arrangements they themselves had (which may disappoint several “patriots” of today), the inclinations and sympathies of several key Maratha leaders, as well as other major north Indian rulers — apart from the Rohilla Pathans, or of the Nawab of Avadh, whose roles seem “obvious”. For there were many other “homegrown” (read co-religious) rulers whose actions will dismay “nationalists/patriots” of a particular tinge, including those who protested against a recent film.
Also in the broad canvas are a rich cast of characters whose contribution deserves to be known — Nawab of Avadh Safdar Jang, who, apart from various other things like stitching up a Mughal-Maratha agreement, was possibly the sole Indian ruler who had one wife and no harem; his successor Shuja-u-Daula, who tried till the end to reach a negotiated settlement and tried to save many Marathas in the battle’s aftermath; the treacherous Wazir Imad-ul-Mulk; Malhar Rao Holkar, who followed his own policy; the valiant Scindias — Jayappa and Dattaji — but especially the women like the widow of the Punjab’s Mughal Governor who took over administration by herself in the shadow of Ahmed Shah Abdali’s invasion.
Kulkarni, who stresses that his book — which came out on the battle’s 250th anniversary in 2011 and has been updated and revised since then, including this edition — is not only about “Maratha expansion” but also a wide-ranging and clinical analysis of its changing configuration as it cemented its hold, with all the benefits and banes that come from greater power and a wider territorial expanse. In the process comes the prognosis how just a common religious identity cannot make any headway where more drivers like quest for authority, territory, or wealth are concerned.
And not only that, inflamed religious feelings may exacerbate the situation and prevent settlements — which are reached eventually, but after more bloodshed and destruction, as the Third Battle of Panipat shows. This is why we need reasoned study of history — especially in this vitiated atmosphere.
(Vikas Datta can be contacted at vikas.d@ians.in)
—IANS
by admin | May 25, 2021 | Books
By Vikas Datta,
Title: Saving Maya; Author: Kiran Manral; Publisher: Bombaykala Books: Pages: 142 Price: Rs 275
Relationships, of the romantic sort especially, are arguably the most important facet of life but can they be eternal, with even absence or abandonment by either partner curbing the other’s ability, hope or even desire to begin a new one? Or are there second chances, with love working its mysterious and irresistible magic on the most despairing heart?
Then there is the matter of recognising such a chance when it may arise, and if it is entails a choice, hoping the right course is chosen — as the prodigious Kiran Manral shows in this endearing and witty story of a rather transformational month or so in the life of a divorced mother.
As the story opens in Mumbai in December 2015, it’s been just a year or so that Maya Arya nee Sharma has divorced from her philandering husband after catching him in flagrante delicto in his office — when he thoughtlessly left the door unlocked.
Left with a modest suburban apartment and support to their young son’s education but needing to work again to sustain herself, she is now feeling a man-sized hole in her life amid other personal and professional preoccupations — but prospects seem bleak.
But there appears an eligible neighbour, a high-flying academician, whose letters keep coming to her house. And then she gets her hands — accidentally — on him while trying to drag her son, already late for school, into the lift only to finds she’s grabbed hold of the wrong person.
So far brusque, he then invites her out for coffee and has a unique offer — to act as his “girlfriend” at some events he is forced to attend — with the clear understanding it would not lead to anything more. Though she indignantly rejects it, she reconsiders and accepts after a blind date, set up by a close friend, turns out disastrously when it ends with the man asking her to join him in a threesome.
And as Maya, whose close friend has hired her a life coach and personal trainer for her complete makeover, wonders if her “tryst” with the professor will lead to anything meaningful, there appears another contender — a globe-trotting cousin of her boss.
But there are also a series of whammies — her son Dushyant returns from a weekend with his father bearing an invitation card for his second marriage, and then her professor seems coming on to her but then disappears.
In the course of an eventful month, will something work out for Maya or will her life remain achingly lonely? And what happens at the wedding? The story, in the hands of the versatile, gifted and irrepressible author, ends on expected lines but not in a way you could have anticipated.
In her eighth book, Manral, however, doesn’t only confine herself to second chances at love but gives added layers and nuances to the motif so as to incorporate a whole gamut of issues of modern urban living and love, especially for single, professional women.
While the story is enlivened with deft characterisation — concerned, overprotective mothers, nosy neighbours, curious children (with the author most assiduously and amusingly reproducing their pronunciation), dependable but dominating friends (Arzoo is awesome) and demanding work colleagues — wry (and even slapstick) humour and the sparkling dialogue, its real strength is beyond these.
This is the depiction of women who have managed to take charge of their life no matter in what circumstances.
As Manral brings out, we see these women all around us – they can be outspoken, will not take things lying down, demand respect and equality, know what they want and don’t much care overly about what other people might think, may be lonely but not desperate enough to throw themselves away – but only a few (men) appreciate them.
Above all, such women know that even before a knight in shining armour — who may or may not show up or be suitable — there is only one person who they can depend upon. And Maya eventually learns who.
And that is what makes this work not just a romance, but rather a comedy of manners which both sexes must read and learn from.
(Vikas Datta can be contacted at vikas.d@ians.in)
—IANS
by admin | May 25, 2021 | Books
By Mayabhushan Nagvenkar,
Book: On the Road to Tarascon; Author: Arnab Nandy; Publisher: Niyogi Books; Pages: 204; Price: Rs 350
What do Dutch post-Impressionist painter Vincent van Gogh and India’s grand old city, Kolkata, share in common? The answer lies in the leap of imagination that author Arnab Nandy has shown in his just over 200-page novel.
“On The Road to Tarascon” is a novel where fact meets fiction in order to create an interesting plot around van Gogh’s self-portrait “The Painter on the Road to Tarascon”, which is believed to have been lost in the ravages of the second World War, more specifically to a fire at a museum in Madgeburg in Germany.
The seed of the story germinates from a note written to Claudia, the wife of the curator of the Madgeburg museum by her lover and a British intelligence officer, tasked with the responsibility of salvaging artwork at the museum. This is the period when the World War II is winding to a close and Germany is fast moving towards annihilation.
Two generations later, the letter, forgotten until now, is a part of the possessions handed over by Claudia to her grand daughter Eva, whose globe-trotting quest to track down the painting brings her to Kolkata in India. Here she meets the narrator Neil Bose and the story takes a contemporary colour and gathers momentum.
Through Bose and other characters, primarily Eva, the author pieces together factual nuggets of art history with fiction in a story which spans continents, cultures and time, hopping from one mystery and clue at the turn of every few pages.
In his sweep of geography, the author appears to revel in his references to Kolkata. The portrayal of the eastern city, in its contemporary avatar, for example, is vivid, so much so that in a way the reader can experience both the grime of the present and the past splendour of the city. The novel takes you from one clue to another, with two primary characters Eva and Bose in breathless pursuit.
While the plot is international in its scale and unique as far as Indian writing is concerned, one does come across a lack of depth as far as its handling is concerned. The narration veers too often to evolving the chemistry and relationship between Bose and Eva. As a result it derails the pace and direction of the plot.
Those keen on art and history would find this book an entertaining read, although thriller-obsessed readers may find the pace faltering at times. As the book is about a lost work of art, one would have expected some more detailing, as well as a sustained build-up, priming up the valuable piece of art and its peer.
And for van Gogh lovers, the cover itself has got to have you drooling.
(Mayabhushan Nagvenkar can be contacted at mayabhushan.n@ians.in )
—IANS
by admin | May 25, 2021 | Books
By Vikas Datta,
Title: Do We Not Bleed?: Reflections of a 21-st Century Pakistani; Author: Mehr Tarar; Publisher: Aleph Book Company; Pages: 240; Price: Rs 599
What do a paraplegic artist seeking to inspire others to rise above their disabilities, a social media star who sought to flaunt her sexuality as a form of protest, and a policeman trying to solve a horrific crime with no complainants or witnesses, have in common? They are facets of a country that rarely make headlines (or do so distorted), but are equally relevant to its representation.
More so when the country in question is Pakistan, widely perceived as an unstable nation, wracked by terrorism, stifled by its military’s heavy hand and beset by a plethora of challenges. While images of bearded, unconscionably vicious terrorists moving out of the badlands to cities to massacre innocent bystanders, or defence top brass trying to augment their own power and wealth make for compelling stories, they are just a part of a reality — unfortunately a major part, but a part nevertheless.
There are stories of a country beyond this — of uncommonly common people, or nameless victims of regressive and violent patriarchy or social and religious pressure, but also of hopes, aspirations and love, of crimes, oppression and betrayal, and more. And then there is the curious love-hate relationship with its bigger, eastern neighbour.
This is what Pakistani journalist Mehr Tarar depicts in this book, contending that “no country is bigger than its reality, or merely the sum total of its flaws”.
But admitting Pakistan happens to be more known for its “dark side” and “stereotyped in hues of extremism, militancy and terrorism”, the freelance columnist and Daily Times former op-ed editor notes it is struggling to “rebrand itself”.
“What I have tried to portray in this book is what I, an ordinary Pakistani, see of my country: A flawed yet dynamic state, faltering yet hopeful, stumbling yet focussed on a future in which people will be able to live decent lives, and trying to make the best of what they can to provide a stable today and a stronger tomorrow to its next generation,” she says.
But, for all that, Tarar does not seek to whitewash any aspect of Pakistan.
Divided into five thematic sections, the first, “Religious Persecution and Other Discontents”, begins with the issue of blasphemy whose victims span Punjab Governor Salman Taseer to Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa varsity student Mashal Khan, and provides considerable insights into the religious mindset that fosters it and the colonial-era laws that facilitate it.
Tarar then takes up a shocking murder of a young girl in a village in Abbottabad district and the dogged police work that solved what was essentially a “blind case”, and then deals with the phenomenon and tragedy of Fauzia Azeem aka Qandeel Baloch, who is proved to be much more that the social media phenomenon she is remembered as.
“The Pakistan You Do Not Know” starts with an equally unsettling story of a Pakistani girl in Canada, but hits a lighter patch with a discourse on friends, fashion and food and other high society matters, and deals with the travails of a single mother the author is. It also showcases a heartbreaking tale of a love story gone wrong — for the woman, of course — and also looks at women’s depiction in popular TV shows.
“Remarkable Pakistanis” showcases a remarkable artist, a redoubtable educationist and a high-profile kidnapping victim, who provides a nuanced difference between the Taliban and Al Qaeda, while “Family and Friends” has more personal accounts about her mother, her relationship with her teenaged son and so on.
Finally, “The Indian Connection” covers a visit to Delhi’s most famous Sufi shrine, a “love” affair with Amitabh Bachchan and a fairly even-handed account of troubled bilateral ties and what can, and should, be done.
A personal but perceptive look at the other Pakistan beyond the “mullah-jihadi-army” focus which effectively dehumanises the great mass of its people, Tarar goes to show them at their best and worst, as good and evil, but as people. Replete with references to and comparisons with India, it also contains an eloquent warning for Indians against the dangerous paths their country and society could find themselves on if they continue following a misguided and outmoded concept of tradition, customs and honour.
As Tarar shows, these are morasses it is difficult to extricate ourselves for generations altogether, if at all.
(Vikas Datta can be contacted at vikas.d@ians.in )
—IANS
by admin | May 25, 2021 | Books
By Kishori Sud,
Title: Buried Seeds: A Chef’s Journey — The Story of Vikas Khanna; Author: Karan Bellani; Publisher: Wisdom Tree; Pages: 155; Price: Rs 345
He never gave up, rose from the ashes like a phoenix every time life tried to bury him. Chef Vikas Khanna, also called Vikku by his near and dear ones, was a buried seed that was meant to bloom.
“Buried Seeds” traces the journey of the Michelin star chef from the boy who helped his grandmother in their kitchen in Amritsar while other children played outside, to the man who worked with influential chefs like Gordon Ramsay, Bobby Flay and Jean-Georges Vongerichten, to presenting his book “UTSAV: A Culinary Epic of Indian Festivals” to the former US Presidents Barack Obama and Bill Clinton.
Interestingly, before the book emerged, Andrei Severny released a documentary on the chef titled “Buried Seeds: A Life Journey of Chef Vikas Khanna” which debuted at the Cannes Film Festival last year.
The author describes how the phrase “when life gives you lemons, make a mojito” is something Khanna has adhered to literally in his roller-coaster of a life and has remained free of arrogance.
Bellani comes across as extremely loyal to the chef, but at a personal level, having interviewed him myself once, the adjectives penned for the chef are certainly believable. The read, however, tends to get too mushy at times.
The author has tried his best to squeeze in all the key memories of Khanna, but they run a bit helter-skelter, confusing the reader as to which turning point came first in the chef’s life — especially the phase after he shifted base to the US.
Nevertheless, the journey is an inspiration not just for a commoner who aspires to touch the sky but also for a physically challenged person. Khanna was himself born with misaligned feet and wasn’t able to run until he was 13.
Yet, he scaled the heights. He is also counted among “The Hottest Chef of America” and was once listed as one of the “Sexiest Men Alive” by People’s magazine.
“There’s no shortcut to success” is a key fact Khanna never forgot, and the author has shed light on instances when he fought against the odds to rise and shine.
“Buried Seeds” is a must read if you want to know more about the success recipe of this down-to-earth chef.
(Kishori Sud can be contacted at kishori.s@ians.in)
—IANS
