Bongs.

Amreekandesi or AD, as I call him, was one of the best bloggers I know. Long before people knew him in his popular, humorous avatar on Twitter, he was writer of succinct, satirical, hard-hitting posts and he didn’t shy of writing on sensitive, political subjects. So, I was reluctant to change that impression in my mind; I admit I avoided the book at first. And then when I picked up the book, I did so with trepidation and zero expectations, however, I am glad to say I was pleasantly surprised.

Amreekandesi – Masters of America (AMA) is story of Akhil and Jassi, two Punju lads, who move to America in 2004 with vastly different goals in mind. Akhil wants to learn and come back to India, while Jassi would do anything to profess a gora identity. The story of these two FOBs (Fresh off-boats) can be described, to borrow from the cliché , as ‘coming-of-age’. Akhil who has lived sheltered life in India (like most of us) goes to US and finds his own mojo as will Jassi. It is also a ‘boy meets girl’ story that you better find out yourself.

The reason books works for me is it is so unpretentious in its story-telling. There are no desperate attempts at slapstick (read cheesy) humor, no fake rabble-rousing. Yet book did engage me and made me laugh at times. It also helped that AMA was a far cry from the representative book my mind had for this sort of setting was the cheesy The Inscrutable Americans. Though with Jassi, AD does pay homage to The Inscrutable Americans but AMA  remains a warm and realistic book.

Though I have never lived in US, I could relate to lot of things just from my experiences from the vacation in Europe. For example, that habit of converting everything you buy in Euro to INR and gut-wrenching it causes each time. (Then when you return you still re-convert INR prices to Euro just to compare). That thing about not jumping the queues, waiting your turn patiently at counters. When car drivers stop and impatiently gesture to a confused you (because in our country, you always wait for the cars to pass first) to cross the road. Some of things just reminded me of my hostel experience, that necessity to learn to take care of yourself, bond with people you share your abode with, the need to mingle around.

All in all, AMA is very relate-able, warm and honest book. It is witty and tells a story simply with heart. I loved the Bong connection of the book, and was bemusedly reminded of Bong family portrayed in Vicky Donor. The book could definitely do better with editing. And for all those who have been in situations where they found themselves when forced to live away from family, all those who have been abroad may know a lot already about it, yet it wouldn’t hurt to read one more story of love and mojo. You can download the first chapter of the book for free here.

Thanks AD for the review copy of your first book (sign it for me later please), your emphasis on honesty and keeping faith in friendship.

Satyen Nabar at the launch of his book with Naseeruddin Shah

A Bolt of Lightning is story of Shiva, who has so far been a successful corporate executive. Unsurprisingly, work stress is getting to him, his marriage is disintegrating. When it seems his wife has moved up on career ladder, he seems to have been stuck somewhere in his career, even after coming all this far. And there are his friends, Adi and Sid, who he is not seeing as much as he would like to.  After few unforeseen setbacks, Shiva moves to Goa to ruminate or recuperate. It is when story shifts from Metro city to Goa, Shiva undergoes a-life-changing-experience. After this event, he embarks on a journey of self-realisation,  and makes peace with ‘real life’.  I could not help but notice the author’s emphasis on keeping a restrained, realistic end.

All the elements of a racy book can be noted– a prophecy by a face reader in train, drugs and foreigners in Goa, doctor jokes, death and suicides, life-threatening situation, and strands of spirituality. As a story, his book is a breeze to read. Though I must confess, I was not the right reader for this book, I don’t much understand spirituality and journeys of self-realisation. Or, maybe I am a skeptic since I haven’t undergone a mammoth life-changing experience. Self-discovery and realisation for me have been painfully slow, one moment at a time.

Therefore,  after reading the book, for a long time I did not know what to write about it. So, I procrastinated and to my horror, I had forgotten all about the story in the book except the one thing I have not revealed here in this review. That, I suggest, you must find out yourself by reading the book. Though I must mention that editing of this book has done it disservice, there are typos and punctuation errors in the book. For example, on Page 15, ‘been’ is written as ‘bean’.

As Google tells me, author Satyen Nabar is an Orthopaedic surgeon and this is his first book.

Dating, Diapers & Denial is another book I didn’t know what to write about at first. Now, don’t get me wrong, book was again a breeze to read, I had finished read it within two hours of beginning it. So, as is obviously evident the writing style is simple, engaging and even humorous. And yet once I had finished the book, there was not much that stayed with me. As the Heath brothers would say, the message did not stick. The book felt like a light banter, a sort of meandering ramble that failed to register to first time. So, I went back to it again to find out the message.

Dating, Diapers & Denial is written as a collection of 15 light-hearted ‘lessons’ gathered by author from her experience as wife and mother, drawn from real life and presented with mock levity and humour.  That, I think, sums up the book beautifully. There were ‘lessons’ that I thought are universal and one would identify with it. For example, ‘You will reach an awkward age when you do not fit in with the young nor with the old’. Or, that ‘You will want more out of life.’ Then there are reminders of those queer nuggets of phenomenon that we ignore, for example, all that wisdom that is imparted in trains by fellow passengers, our gharelu nuskhe, your experience at your regular parlour and so on.

The book espouses almost every facet of daily adult life to make you laugh. You laugh about inane pleasures and struggles of life, when you read about travelling with children, general exhaustion in daily grind of life, good mother checklist, essential shopping list with children, different ways of a girl and boy child, dealing with homework, you get the picture.

Go ahead, sit back in chair with this book while putting up your legs on the table, and read up on mundane, everyday details of life served with a dash of droll wit.

Disclaimer: I have received review copies for both the books. I must thank both the authors on their patience (for I received these copies long back) and fairness that they did not attempt to influence my opinion in any way. Thank you, and keep writing.

Good news is that in the choice of people and their stories, the book has been very effective. Although inclusion of popular, well-known folks like Aditi Govitrikar, Nikhil Chinnapa, Harsha Bhogle, R Madhavan and Srikant initially miffed me, however, after reading Harsha Bhogle and R Madhavan’s stories I realised that I didn’t know it all, and was mollified. It was interesting to know about what Harsha did before cricket commentary happened to him and that R Madhavan conducted widely successful coaching classes before he became an actor.

My favourite stories were about Nalin Khanduri who started Great Indian Outdoors Private Limited, it definitely takes courage to quit a corporate job and start an outdoors company in a country like India, Manohar Parrikar, a middle-class boy, a IIT graduate who went on to become the Chief Minister of Goa, Ashish Rajpal, his story was especially inspiring for me, he worked all over the world but came back to India to enrich K-12 education, Rajeev Suresh Samant, who through his brand Sula wines put India on wine-making map, Praveen Tyagi, another K-12 educator who started PACE education and despite being from impoverished background, Praveen made it to IIT and decided to devote his time to teaching to help other folks make it to IIT.

Then, there is Ingrid Srinath who made her name in advertising and yet one day quit it to head CRY, and then went on to become Secretary General of CIVICUS – World Alliance for Citizen Participation. Needless to say, move from lucrative advertising to social welfare sector involved a hefty cut in pay check and was bereft of usual conveniences in offices that we usually take for granted. Rashmi Uday Singh, food writer and TV anchor was another person with an interesting story. She was a tax inspector before she took a full time plunge in writing and broadcasting.

There were few things common to all the stories above, all of them were associated with prestigious institutes and had high educational qualification, which they necessarily did not utilise in their chosen career. Almost all of them had a MBA. Several of them started a career in a field they weren’t always knowledgeable about. Ashish Rajpal, CEO of iDiscovery went back to school to study about Mind, Brain and Education at Harvard. Rashmi Uday Singh after a successful stint as tax officer went to be trained by BBC in TV production. They all did what they needed to, to be true to their passions.

At 220 pages and with its compact content, it is a breeze to read. I also loved the sketches of each person that appeared in the beginning of each story. Some, I thought, were quite a close resemblance to the real person. The book falters only when author’s opinion interferes with stories of people, for example, her judgements and gushing praise for Praveen is an awkward interruption to his commendable story. I personally thought Amish Tripathi’s story had few cringe worthy moments when he was asked about being ‘house husband’. There were few more mildly irritating aspects around the packaging of the book. The cover somewhat lacks finesse, cannily resembles one of the plagiarised books that you find on pavements. Editing is bad, specifically the irritating extra spaces before punctuation. Another suggestion would be that on top right header, one should see the name of the chapter (that is celebrity whose story we are reading in this case) instead of the author, it helps a reader to track. Despite such mild disappointments, book for me was a pleasure to read and the credit for this goes not to the author but to the wonderful people who lent their stories to it.

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I must first begin with disclaimers. I was very intrigued when I picked up Madhulika Liddle’s first book ‘The Englishman’s Cameo’ – the author bio said she was an instructional designer. Well, so am I and in India I find a little known profession. And then I recalled, my friend had mentioned of her works reviewed by Liddle. Madhulika Liddle used to work for same organisation as me, though I have never met her or spoken to her. I have read her first two books, part of Muzaffar Jang series, a mystery set during Shah Jehan’s era. I was very impressed not just with story, but the research put in reflects in the chosen words and creating imagery in the story– the dresses, the utensils, customs, hierarchy, professions and so on. It was delight.

When I saw the cover this short story collection on Facebook, I loved the cover and wanted to possess the book. So, I am glad, I got this opportunity thanks to Blogadda.

Liddle’s this book is in different than her Muzaffar Jang series. It is book of collection of 12 short stories set in different parts of India – Delhi, Bombay, Moradabad, Goa, Tranquebar and so on.

Every short story writer has a style. Chekov was skilled in capturing drama in seemingly insignificant events; Fitzgerald had wit and crisp prose, Hemingway had excellent dialog, Munro has grace to weave into unknown, and O. Henry always ended his stories with a great twist. Liddle’s stories are more like on O. Henry concept that end with a twist usually. However, they are made for lighter reading, with an inherent flavour of dark humour.

My favourite stories are ‘A Tale of a Summer Vacation’, ‘Sum Total’, and eponymous ‘My Lawfully Wedded Husband’ – mostly because these stories end on high note, and surprised me even.  What also works is, Liddle does describe well different worlds people live, that desultory small town, kid on vacation, a cog in high-brow politics and so on. It intrigues me how sometimes places merge with stories, such as a posh colony of Juhu, small but exotic sounding town of Tranquebar.

Having said that some of the stories were just about alright, while there were three stories that I thought were too weak, and disappointing. But, to each his/her own, I learnt from Acknowledgements that ‘Silent Fear’ had appeared first in Femina and a Google search tells me it was a popular story. Unlike Munro’s stories where characters even talk to dead, in this book, the ghost never came through for me.  ‘Hourie’ and ‘Crusader’ were two other stories that had predictable ends. More since we now knew writer’s style and the ‘twist’ was the obvious answer.

Unlike her previous Muzaffar Jang books, I had mixed feelings about this book. Yet, I have no regrets about reading it, because it was a breeze to read, owing to simple, engaging writing style. I suspect mixed feelings occur, owing more to high expectation we have after reading Muzaffar Jang books. (Btw, third one is out too.) For short story lovers, it is an interesting book to look into.

If this counts, this book has indeed made me to consider visit Tranquebar once even though one of the characters said ‘there is not much to see’.

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Half-hearted I dug into book, to my surprise the writing was good, it was in simple storytelling voice. I easily dug in the story. And story began right where he, a Goan guy, was born in a Bombay chawl and his journey to become the man he is today. In between, there are interesting vignettes such as about 1965 war, tales from Marinagar, and his Grandma Rita’s mystifying Konkan ritual to get rid of ‘disht’, an evil eye. And I thought, why did I never ask my parents how was it for them during the war, how, they were affected by several historical on goings. That is the stuff history is made of, that is how books like Art Spiegalman’s Maus come along and take their place in recording history.

But I digress, Wendell’s book though enshrines the ongoing historic pieces, it is in face a memoir of his personal journey. It is story of a Goan boy from middle-class Bombay chawl who goes on to make his name in International fashion.  It is achieved through variety of experiences starting from Oman where he worked in a hotel and then his dream to save and go to US to study fashion. Passing out with summa cum laude, he returns India to teach in SNDT college in Juhu and he finds he loves teaching. This is my favourite part too, to know few of India’s talented fashion designers such as Hemant Trivedi and Wendell love to teach. Wendell, eager to learn more, goes to Paris to study again – something that would stay with him all his life. He would years later go again for an internship in a Portuguese museum to learn about costume etc.

Wendell’s book is full of who’s who, he steers clear of controversial stuff in fashion. Couple of times if he mentions an incident he doesn’t name the person. Though I could make out one referred to Shobha De as a model who was slapped because she was busy kissing a male hunk before the show. But even if he had any bad blood with people, he didn’t name them, and kept away from bitching.  Though he seems very fond of Malaika Arora, who has been his favourite model for several of his shoot and it is Malaika who adorns the cover of his book. He also reveals a caring attitude for exceptionally beautiful and exceedingly untalented actress Aishwarya Rai. He discloses a green room story where Ash was being treated badly by all models and she broke down. Other than such tid bits, the book expectedly is all about Wendell’s life.

Once cannot close a review on Wendell’s book without mentioning his long time French partner Jerome with who he had relationship over two decades, their love for travel around the world in 269 countries and 965 cities (as Wendell himself claims in the book). He never mentioned an angst about being gay in this country, it seemed his family was accepting until Shobha De printed about his singing PACS (Pacte Civil de Solidarite) with Jerome. That was only time it seemed hell broke loose and Wendell was estranged with him family for sometime .

I did not learn much about fashion from Wendell’s book, only that money in fashion mostly comes from retail, designers also have silly Delhi vs Mumbai quarrel, of new and old fashion weeks, of importance of being written about in magazines and contacts with reporters. But I learnt, Wendell loves Goa and he in always involved in all sorts of projects for Goa and encourages new Goan talent. He not only likes to reach, he sometimes writes. And reading this book, I can vouch that he writes simply and writes well.

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Satyabhama Menon has just moved from Delhi to Bangalore as a TV reporter for new, upcoming N.E.W.S India channel. Like all journalism students, she has dreams to make a difference – and make it big while doing so. (I know because I was one myself longtime ago.) However, she realizes in a competitive business like TV journalism, talent is not the only factor that takes you places. There are small, asinine things as pesky bosses or input teams, office politics, jealous colleagues and of course TRPs that always govern the priorities. TV reporter, especially a budding one, remains a small cog in the network.

Saddled with mundane, mindless and menial (from a TV journalist’s POV) assignments such as vox populi (that too fake), small-time weather reports (involves a trip all the way to Coorg just to cover rains!), Satya struggles to carve her niche. It does not help Ram Kedhia, a high-ranking channel boss insists on sabotaging her career –keeps her on low-priority stories, or breaking news duty (which means though she is at work waiting for ‘breaking news’ she is not getting to work on stories) and worst while world is praising her story, he accuses her of inefficiency and unprofessionalism.

Yet Satya’s opportunities to shine come up from unexpected assignments. Even as a novice, she soon learns to use her resources well – gets her young cousin to find suitable college folks for vox pops, builds up rapport with her camera guys – who time and again will prove to be valuable allies. She finds herself increasingly disillusioned in the world of TV journalism – suddenly channel diktat arrive that since TRPs indicate crime beat is most popular and all useful stories from other genre are forgotten. Truth, even if an exclusive bite, is snipped and lies are both forgiven and forgotten without much ado by ‘honest’ idols.

The only question that remains is will Satya survive in world of TV journalism? Will she find the fulfillment and meaning she seeks from her work? That you must find in the book. I found the description of TV reporter’s life interesting and accurate and my heart went out for all the freshers who take up these courses. This was me, a decade ago. Only few make the cut, while keeping their soul intact. As Suhasini Haider says dear journalism students, I hope you get mean bosses and unwell colleagues…

I checked up author profile after completing the book. Publishers, Good Times Books, who had very professionally sent me author bio was a good beginning.  And I found, author’s career trajectory was very similar to Satya’s. And then I speculated – ‘Pranav’ was from Philippines.

My only peeve with the book was its cover – as we have learnt hard way from book club meeting with Amish – the intriguing cover played a large part in people buying the book. I have myself bought few mediocre/bad books just because I was charmed by cover. I just wish it had a good cover – with those almost invisible, small, while OB vans on black background – the cover was as dull as you can get.

Book is written simply with rare honestly without any fake, steamy prose or corny humor. Also, I note with relief the book has no cheap gimmicks either, not even North vs South comparison even though there was opportunity as the protagonist moved from Delhi to Bangalore (again a transition I made myself not so long ago). Though it does hint at popular current affair events as visiting a dalit house and 2G scam, etc etc , but that is to be expected.

I recommend that this book is worth a fast, intriguing read. It seems book is already out of stock and has gone off for its first reprint. Author Shweta Ganesh Kumar blogs here at Simply Speaking.

This is one of those books where the meaning of the title sinks in with full force only when you have finished reading the book. But that is something I will leave you to find about yourself.

The Devotion of Suspect X is what I call one-sitting-novel, it is written by Keigo Higashimo. It is actually third book in his Inspector Galileo series, published in 2005 and widely translated and transformed into movies and TV shows.

Yet despite its suspenseful plot, this book is not a who-dunit as any decent review will tell you. A murder happens in first chapter. The murdered man is abusive, ex-husband of Yasuko who has been stalking her for years. Suspicion naturally falls over beautiful Yasuko who only wants to protect her daughter. Yasuko, once a night club hostess now works in a box lunch place. Unexpectedly, she finds an ally in her neighbour Ishigami, who is a mathematician.

In comes an observant, honest police detective Kusanagi – to his consternation even though everything on surface seems fine – Yasuko is too gentle to commit a pre-meditated murder and she also seems to have an alibi for the night of the murder – something doesn’t ‘feel’ right. There are no other leads either. Kusanagi has an intelligent physicist friend, Dr. Manabu Yukawa as a friend in Imperial college – this man often helps him close cases. Dr. Yukawa is also nicknamed as Inspector Galileo.

The next chapters unfold the plot layer by layer. Both, the police and the accused play an astute, graceful game of chess – with two characters that stand out clearly. The mathematician and the physicist, each responding other with a move . An equal and opposite reaction. As a reader, you are hooked, curious what comes next – and yet sometimes you root for few characters. Despite the fact you know that murder happened and who committed it, the details around it as much surprise you as they mystify you when they are unravelled.

The book is not intended to be a work of literature or a brilliant masterpiece in terms of plot, even though I must mention that plot has no loopholes, and all threads link together when you go back in the story. Yet I would say, that plot is commonplace, it is instead the crafty style of presenting the mystery is the disarming feature of the book. Another is its climax – it is one that I must admit I didn’t expect. It was not only a surprise but also proved rather disturbing to my ‘emotional’ sensitivities. And yet I abide by the end.

A very fast read where plot meanders and takes new course like a fast-flowing river. If you peek carefully, characters are bland and simple – Yasuko has some claim to righteousness but is meek enough to be boring, Kusanagi’s only redeeming feature is his observation, in particular observation of his genius friend (that solves cases perhaps), Ishigami is ‘Buddha’ – nothing as ‘ill-feeling’ ever emanates from him. It is just warring of wits and the way script throws surprises so often what maketh this book.

Lastly, a note must be added to acknowledge the translation by Alexander O. Smith. Though I’ve not read the original book in Japanese, but the way translated language kept up that sense of suspense and urgency – I believe translation has been a fruitful one.

Curl in bed with book, coffee on side – you should have one ‘thrilling’ ride

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Delirious Delhi can be easily called a tribute to Delhi, since it is obvious Dave and Jenny genuinely loved the city. The couple lived for two years in Delhi, after which they moved to Singapore.

And they did manage to have that ‘authentic’ experience. Dave, an advertising agency executive in Gurgaon lived in Hauz Khas. He did what millions of Delhites do everyday – travel to work. For more than a decade in Delhi, I too have travelled on an average 3-4 hours to and fro college or work. They zipped around the city in autos, learned various tricks/tips to bargain. Again, this is something I had to do every day (tough job at times) for 2 years when I worked in GK-2 – right in that square that has Nathu’s where Dave had his first meal in India.

The couple  went all round Delhi for the Indian food they would come to love – imagine my surprise when I read in the book ‘best South Indian food in Delhi can be eaten at Saravanna Bhawan’. I thought, how did he know! Since I keep finding people in north who are not so aware about it. Mystery soon unravelled – Dave and Jenny were part of Eating Out in Delhi group – and sample food from all over Delhi, including gastronomic delights of Old Delhi. I smiled when Dave was unimpressed with over-hyped Khan Market – I agreed.

Most of book is based on similar first-hand experience, and any facts that are included have been supported with references included in the footnotes.

Dave does his best to distinguish the book from other expat books – in that, I believe, he was not so successful. Despite his fairness and love for Delhi, there are things that almost every expat complains/writes about – confusion with Indian way of saying yes, corruption, beggars, guilt at beggars, surprise at peons, pollution, hygiene, Indian idea (or lack of ) personal space, culture of working late, jugaad and so on.  Book goes on to explain economy – markets, cheap labour, circle of recycle and repair something so alien in New York. These are the things almost every expat writes about India. However, one thing that Dave wouldn’t perhaps know that the customer service he was so impressed in Delhi isn’t so great in every other Indian city. Chennai, Pune, Bangalore – they taught me not to take so many things granted as a customer – it was always easy in Dilli. Gone are the ironwallah who would pick up and deliver from my house, grocer who would always sell less than MRP (and we can still bargain), Punjabi food that always has onion would still be customised for me at most places, taxi/cabwallah/service providers who would always bargain and scramble to provide services at best prices. In Pune/Bangalore, mostly attitude is take it or leave it.

Dave has written the book with a sense of humour something that helped them to deal with various contradictions of the city. They soon came up with their tricks/tips – their own bargaining tactics with autowallahs, evading pestering autos with excuse ‘we are walking to get exercise’. There is one chapter where Dave has to take his wife Jenny to hospital at night. When colleagues learn of it later, one of them says, horrified: ‘You call to ask us how to say ‘cauliflower’ in Hindi, but not when your wife goes to hospital!’

One grouse that I have with Delirious Delhi is that at 387 pages it is tad too long for what it wants to say. I wish book was a 100-150 pages shorter, that would make it bit less sluggish in the later part of the book. For example, a chapter called ‘Working Late (Again)’ begins with long crib about commute (again). It then talks about existence of a peon owing to cheap labour, which is something dealt with again in a separate chapter. Then, there are long descriptions of ride back with various Indian folks who take an unplanned stopover to either have a pan/pickup booze to the consternation of glum author who is eager to reach home to his wife. Reading something as such in long-winding detail felt like listening to a boring account similar to an irritating colleague detailing every nitty-gritty of how they spent the whole day. Then, there were parts that felt familiar – bargaining tactic where their colleague asked for discount, ICICI bank waking up (another section that was too long), their cook Ganga, recycling etc –I read it on their blog. However, as Dave replies to my tweet, 90% of content in book is new, I believe him!

I will go for 3 out of 5 for this book, solely because of it’s honestly and genuine zeal to know a city they came to love.

Frankly, this book does not need a book review to extol its virtues. Its back cover lists its merits in simple no-nonsense words in the back cover. However, to do the book and Blogadda’s book program justice, I will first air my views for the record.

I jumped to have this book since I have been on Delhi walks (and none by INTACH to which Swapna Liddle belongs to but that I will come to later). Delhi has a fantastic cultural heritage, but most of us even while living in the city sleep-walk through it. I did.

I think I re-visited even the popular monuments Red Fort, Qutab Minar when I was studying at a college in Delhi, at least a decade after when I first visited those in childhood. That too because I had to take an NRI friend of mine around the city. I haven’t forgotten my ignorance and the embarrassing fact that I was enormously proud that I have never cared enough for these ‘cliche’ places to visit myself. And even if we deign to visit these places, we hardly see/know things. We fail to appreciate the beauty and wonder of it.

I felt enormous shame when I read William Dalrymple’s ‘City of Djinns’ – and I thought why did this expat find these amazing bits of history. He knows more about Shalimar Bag/Old Delhi and its history than I do even though this place is so close to my house! That’s when I joined the walks in Delhi – just to learn more about not-so-discussed tid-bits and knowledge to appreciate the intricacies of what I was visiting/looking. These walks help – this is exactly what Swapna Liddle’s book ’14 Historic Walks’ does. It provides you a guided tour of 14 places interspersed with historic anecdotes, details about architecture/monuments that will help you appreciate the wonders you watch and tips that allow you to navigate around the routes effortlessly.

The 14 walks covered in the book are –  Qutub Minar complex, Tuglaqabad, Satpula and Khirki, Hauz Khas, Lodhi Garden and Safdarjung’s tomb, Purana Qila, Nizammuddin, Humanyun’s Tomb Complex, Red Fort, Shahjahanabad, Mehrauli Village, Mehrauli Archaeological park, Kashmiri Gate and Central Vista.

Format of the book is pretty simple – a double centrespread that has complete map of the walk in which ‘points’ to watched and numbered and circled in red. The second part has a rating system – informs you of difficulty level, highlights, costs that include as entrance fee, nearest metro points and other amenities available.  And then begins the guided tour of those places circled in red – history, story, architectural features and so on.  These details are more than often interesting, precise and very readable.

My favourite walk in the book is the one in Shahjahanabad with its rich offerings – the rich Jama Masjid, Jain temples, Paranthe wali gali, Sheesh Mahal, market, gurudwara and home of one of world’s greatest poets – Ghalib. (Btw, Ghalib was living here during the days of 1857 uprising and published his memoirs in a not-so-well-known book called Dastambu, which means, bouquet of flowers in Persian. Though critics disapprove the ‘cowardly’ ideas expressed on the book.) It is also, therefore, no surprise, the writer Swapna Liddle’s sister Madhulika Liddle has also written books set in Shahajahanabad with a 17^th century fictional detective Muzaffar Jung. The first book in this series is ‘The Englishman’s Detective’. (Yours truly is intrigued enough to pick it up soon!) Madhulika Liddle has also taken the beautiful black-and-white photographs in the book that accompany the text.

Swapna Liddle has recently conducted Muzaffar Jung walks in December 2011 in Shahjahanabad. Swapna has a PhD on 19^th century, Delhi and has been conducting heritage walks in Delhi for more than a decade.  This book seems to be output of that rich experience.  She is co-convenor of INTACH’s Delhi chapter that aims to have Delhi inscribed in UNESCO’s list of World Heritage Cities. INTACH focuses on protecting monuments and some on their achievements can be read on their web site here.

Swapna Liddle Introducing Muzaffar Jung walk - image courtesy Madhulika's web site

With such credentials and easy reading experience, I vouch that this book is a collector’s item. Next time you decide to walk around the city, carry Swapna Liddle’s ’14 Historic Walks’ with you to take the delightful expert along!

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Just under first 20 pages, I could sense Anthony Horowitz has stepped fairly well into Watson’s shoes. It begins, as did all Doyle stories, with Holmes making his remarks and surprising people with his deductions.

The House of Silk is an investigation conducted by Holmes that was believed to be too horrific in nature to be revealed at the time. Therefore, Watson records this investigation in the twilight years of his life, after the death of Sherlock Holmes, with instruction that it should be published a century after his death.

The case begins when the client walks into the now familiar house at 221B, Baker Street. The client is Edmund Carstairs, an art gallery co-owner. He has had a brief brush with a gang in past which once destroyed his paintings. He believes he is now being followed by the one of the gang members for vendetta. Mr. Holmes is intrigued but relaxed. Events take an unpredictable course when one of the street urchins – part of Wiggin’s army – assisting him is brutally murdered. Holmes, regretful for unknowingly putting an innocent urchin in the harm’s way, is determined to bring the killer to justice. This leads both Holmes and Watson on a journey where there are several traps, guns and pitfalls. Meanwhile, Edmund Carstairs’ family seems to be disintegrating. Holmes must not only find the killer but save his reputation by stopping what is assailing the Carstairs, who like everybody else seem to be losing their faith in him.

Like Hound of Baskervillies, there comes a part in the story where Watson is at the helm of events with Holmes in trouble. Watson works on his own for a while with the help he can find from his two most likely allies -Inspector Lestrade and Mycroft. Lestrade, who was previously a mere caricaturised policeman is depicted more kindly in Watson’s memoir. Amusingly, Watson’s memoir takes a mildly apologetic tone for chronicling Lestrade as ‘rat-faced’ and ‘ferret-faced’.  On the other hand, Mycroft, with his invisible power inside the government corridors (and Diogenes Club) is as eccentric as ever. Watson is stumped when in his darkest hour, Mycroft bids him goodbye saying, Next time please call on me only when it is urgent situation.

Watson himself is very well done character in this book. He almost always flushes with pride to be known as a ‘good chronicler of Holmes’ adventures’. He still seeks to find expression of love, concern and pride from his dearest friend, Holmes. But unlike Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes movies, this was never the focal point in Doyle’s story. It was always subtly inherent – never dwelt upon in detail and yet there. Horowitz does a Guy Ritchie in my opinion when Watson confessed that with his preoccupation with Holmes during this case, he fails to recognise his wife Mary may have had typhoid, which is what claims her life later. Also, at one point in the book a tired and visibly sick Mary beseeches Watson to go to Holmes’ aid with these words, ‘…he needs you as he has always needed you. You cannot refuse.’ I, a true blue Doyle fan, consider this a flaw in the book. But that needs a separate post.

The author’s descriptions of Victorian London and its people are very evocative and reminiscent of Doyle’s stories. One description goes as this: He was formally dressed in a dark tail coat, wing collar and white bow tie with a black cloak around his shoulders, waistcoat, gloves and patent leather shoes. Behold, there appears a man in my imagination dressed like that. (Though I had to goggle ‘wing collar’ to get the exact look. )

Despite strong characterisations and writing, it seemed Horowitz felt very compelled to illustrate that he is very well-versed with Doyle’s works. There are so many cross-references to Holmes’ other cases – Miss Violet Hunter, The Red-Headed League, Riechenbach Falls and Prof. Moriarty himself. Some of these as Dr Trevelyan have been well-used in plot, but, it was the appearance of Prof. Moriarty that I felt was bit forced.

Despite this, I believe ‘House of Silk’ is worthy addition to Holmes’ collection. Though it will never be my favourite Holmes story, it will be certainly one of the most memorable.

P.S: I must thank Debs for generously passing this book my way, or am sure I would missed the pleasure of reading and finding more about the realm of Holmes.