Book Review: Tell Tale by Jeffrey Archer

There are authors, and then there are Gods - writers of fates and histories and then, there is Archer.

'Tell Tale' has Archer in sublime form. I have often felt the short story was the best format for Archer - he is, in cricketing parlance, more a T20 player than a Test player. And what best way to flex the writing muscle in full display than to write two 100-word stories with a beginning, a middle and an end.

There are inevitably stories that miss their mark but if there is one book that captures what Archer does best, it is this.

Do not miss!

Book Review: The Making of Don by Krishna Gopalan

'The Making of Don' is a stop and start book - interesting in parts - but often repetitive and non-linear. Additionally, Gopalan has just the one source: Chandra Barot and the book relies heavily on Barot's reminiscences. I thought Gopalan might have been better served writing the story from Barot's perspective instead of as an author researching the book.

Even so, the kernel of the story is interesting enough - a movie made over several years, on a non-existent budget relying largely on goodwill and fortune to get made. It was the core story that kept me hooked even though Gopalan kept losing my attention.

Though short of the benchmark for movie-making books ("Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron", "Sholay-the Making of a Classic"), can be read as a one-off airport-read.

Book Review: Autobiography of a Mad Nation by Sriram Karri

I read Sriram Karri’s Autobiography of a Mad Nation and wondered if something was wrong with me. The book has apparently been longlisted for the MAN Asian Literary Prize. And I suffered through most of it.

The book begins with a rant a few pages long, which has the sort of putrid vile hatred which makes you wonder how the author was wronged really. It then goes directly to a scene where the President of India begins to discuss an eight page letter from one of the protagonists. The letter is long winding and you wonder why the President did not find his senses wandering off (like your senses).

And thus, Karri puts the reader off right at the start with a rant that is vile (and somewhat senile) without having the kind of style that Roy (Arundhati) brings to makes rants readable. And then he goes straight to a section so implausible that he loses you. The President of India is reading an eight page letter and you feel like asking – does the President of India has nothing better to do? Also somehow the President of India has contacts with an intelligence officer who then begins to investigate the contents of the letter – which again seems jarring; doesn’t seem to be plausible again. To make things difficult, Karri’s Mad Nation goes into rant mode ever so often, making you trudge, really trudge slowly. The rants are not stylish, witty – contrast it with Adiga’s decidedly above average (at best) White Tiger (which happened to win a Booker!) – and even then, they pale.

It is a shame that Karri populates the beginning of the book with what reads like his own frustration (I never commiserated with the rants, even though I mostly agree with the content of these rants) and that the plot right at the beginning becomes implausible, because the book is readable thereafter. I enjoyed the references to history – Emergency, Godhra, etc. But the rants kept coming back and putting me off.

It just feels like Karri could have set this book in a fictional nation – maybe made it a 1984 – to justify the implausibilities. Or, written with the style and chutzpah necessary to carry such a heavy topic off. But the book has neither – neither style nor a big blue canvas that extends beyond Karri’s hatred (that’s what the book reads like, pardon me!).

Autobiography of a Mad Nation is promising… but could have been so much better in the hands of someone like Arundhati Roy.

Book Review: Fraudster by R. V. Raman

Fraudster is R. V. Raman’s first book – a thriller set in the corporate/ financial sector. The premise of the book is the prevalence of NPAs (Non Performing Assets) in a large number of financial institutions and the myriad schemes and machinations involved therein.

The core strength of Raman’s book is that the plot is quite realistic and believable. What I found most interesting was the ingenious ways in which businessmen in India are looting banks via mortgage frauds. It is only in India perhaps that with the right amount of political backing and street smarts, you can get away with thousands of crores of fraud. (Think a certain high profile husband of a famous political dynasty scion.)

What Raman has is a deep insight of how the financial sector works and how fraud works in the financial sector. There are perhaps a couple of paragraphs in the book that might be difficult for the lay reader to understand (this reviewer having worked for over four years in the banking sector understood them easily) but that would be a minor hiccup in an otherwise good book.

Where the book falls short somewhat is (most likely) primarily due to Raman’s lack of experience as a writer. There are far too many characters in the book to keep pace with and even though you remember most of them, some of them shall inevitably slip from your attention. This wouldn’t be a problem if these characters weren’t later, relevant to the plot. It is perhaps only Agatha Christie who could somehow make us remember twenty plus myriad characters in her books. Also, there are a couple of scenes in the book that are somewhat cheesy; a fight sequence between gun toting men and an unarmed young man is especially hard to swallow.

But what keeps the book going is its frenetic pace. Action flows thick and fast and literally everybody is a suspect, which makes the book eminently readable.

Fraudster is a surprisingly good whodunit from a newbie author. Recommended.

Book Review: Rokda – How Baniyas do business by Nikhil Inamdar

‘Rokda – How Baniyas do business’ is a delightful little book about the Baniya community in India. A compilation of the business stories of five luminary businessmen from the Baniya community, 'Rokda' manages to enthrall and keep the reader hooked till the end.

Capturing the life stories of Rohit Bansal (Snapdeal), V. K. Bansal (Kota’s famous Bansal Classes), R. K. Somany (HSIL  who makes Hindware), Neeraj Gupta (Meru Cabs) and Radheshyam Gupta & Radheshyam Aggarwal (Emami Group), ‘Rokda’ manages to bring to life the spirit and enterprise of the indefatigable Baniya. Exceedingly well written and paced almost like a thriller in parts, Inamdar’s ‘Rokda’ is the kind of book that should ideally be setting bestseller charts ablaze.

Where ‘Rokda’ fails to some extent is explain exactly ‘how Baniyas do business’ which is maybe the reason a lot of businessmen or bright eyed B-School goers will pick up the book (having read it on the cover). However, it needs to be read as what it actually is – a biography of India told through five different stories – how five enterprising individuals whether through luck or gumption and always through the never-give-up Baniya spirit managed to thrive in India not because of, but despite a paralytic unfriendly socio-political business environment.

The book doesn’t really spell out what Baniyas actually do but that to a large extent, is in clear sight: one way or the other, they simply manage to thrive in a country that has always been anti-business. On reading the book, one gets the sense that is not really something that can be taught. The Baniya’s greatest trait (aside from his all-pervasive frugality) is that he never gives up. He adapts. It’s in his blood. It will take a great deal of psychological evolution for other businessmen and perhaps even Multinationals to react in the same manner.

Nikhil Inamdar won me over with his charming story about India through the eyes of five Baniyas. My personal favorites were the Meru Cabs and Emami group stories. Especially in the case of Emami group it is amazing how there is so little (apparent) discord between the extend families of Radheshyam Gupta & Radheshyam Aggarwal, all of whom are involved in the business. Such stories are indeed rare.

A page turner. (I finished the book in four hours flat.) And, highly recommended.

Book Review: My Name is Abu Salem by Hussain Zaidi

The one thing that keeps me reading Hussain Zaidi's books is the inimitable manner in which he becomes a fly on the wall of Mumbai's most dangerous criminals and fiercest cops alike. 'My Name is Abu Salem' tracks the life and times of Abu Salem - the man whose crime career is perhaps best known for Gulshan Kumar's brutal murder and whose personal life is best known for his relationship with Monica Bedi.

As always, Zaidi is meticulous, detailing everything from Salem’s rise to his days on the run from the authorities. Sections on Monica Bedi’s sudden rise in Bollywood (aided by Salem’s weight in the film industry) and the gruesome Gulshan Kumar murder are especially good; it was almost as if I were watching a movie of the events. Bedi’s love story with Salem – no less a filmy story on its own – starting with an affair with Salem, followed by marriage and culminating in the relationship’s degradation in prison, makes for a fascinating read.

Gulshan Kumar’s murder though, right from the first bullet to the last, is perhaps the best section of the book. The book tracks how Kumar was chased, where & when he was shot, what he cried out, etc. It is sections like these that make Zaidi’s books the absolute gold standard in factual crime writing. You can only wonder how Zaidi came to know such minutest of details.

What makes Abu Salem’s story interesting is the way he is able to rise repeatedly like a phoenix from ashes. Even today, Salem and his lawyers work on exploiting legal loopholes that might eventually set him free. On the merit of the book being Salem’s life story in itself, it deserves to be read.

What goes against the book however, is the small parts that you will find slightly repetitive in case you have read all of Zaidi's earlier works. Such as sections on Dawood, for instance, – the veritable star around which India’s solar system of crime has revolved. However, that is, most likely, an inevitability... in all likelihood, Hussain Zaidi needs to cater to first time readers and fiercely loyal readers (like me) alike.

'My Name is Abu Salem' is not Zaidi's best book but it still has Zaidi at his best. If Zaidi had not written ‘Black Friday’ or ‘Mafia Queens…” or ‘Dongri to Dubai’, the book would have probably been rated higher; however, it pales in comparison to these books on the sheer weight of the stories and characters in them. Salem is, frankly, no Dawood Ibrahim; but even if he isn’t the sun, the book makes him out to be an interesting enough planet – one that takes every fall in its stride and manages to rise from the dust, again and again.

To me, ‘Black Friday’ or ‘Mafia Queens of Mumbai’ will always be Zaidi’s best books but ‘My name is Abu Salem’ stands on its own as a good enough read from Hussain Zaidi’s stable.

Book Review: On Love and Sex by Khushwant Singh

On Love & Sex seems to be one of the umpteen attempts to profit from the literary powerhouse that was Khushwant Singh. Over the past few years I have seen several books get published by various publishers, all somehow seeking to package/ repackage snatches of Mr. Singh’s writing from here or there. The last essay/ short story in the book was, for example, in no manner associated with either love or sex and one feels that the publishers or Khushwant Singh’s estate were looking desperately for some copy to fill a few extra pages. And also since the Khushwant Singh name itself sells so well, not much effort has been made with the cover – which is a simple paint brush rendition of the title (though it did remind me of Milan Kundera’s book covers).

Even so, it is virtually impossible to go wrong with Khushwant Singh – his charming, open and honest writing style which at all times manages ever so easily to cast all inhibitions aside.  The opening part of the book – consisting of Khushwant’s early travels, his education in England, his nomadic lifestyle and his many friends & girlfriends – is eminently readable. Additionally, Singh is quite open about sex – not choosing to use heavy metaphor laden prose to define and/ or justify love making – and that makes the content all the more easy to read, for its charming simplicity.

What follows the initial autobiographical sexual adventures of Khushwant section, however, are a few essays on sex or love which though still a breezy read and capable of providing interesting insights into the thought process of Singh, make the book a somewhat jarring read.

There were two short stories somewhere towards the end – which made for interesting reading. The historical fiction story about a Hindu couple almost eight hundred years ago was amongst the most interesting parts of the book for me. The opening parts and Khushwant Singh’s breezy, uninhibited writing style works really well for the book. At 160 pages, the book makes for a quick 2 hour airport read.

But the flow of the book is too jarring and at times, random. The book might have been better off without a few rather dated essays and the last story which had nothing to do with the title of the book.

    In conclusion, what I like to say about Jeffrey Archer’s Clifton chronicles applies here as well:

    If you want to read an Indian read, there are better books out there.

    If you want to read a Khushwant Singh, there are better books out there.

    Even so, On Love & Sex is a decent read from the pen of India’s literary powerhouse.

Book Review: Picture Abhi Baaki Hai by Rachel Dwyer

To be frank I did not understand why Picture Abhi Baaki Hai is a book at all. It put me off at the outset with a lengthy, vapid prologue justifying its existence as a book – a prologue in which the author keeps bringing up the name of the book twice on every page. For example, Picture Abhi Baaki Hai is a collection of…”, Picture Abhi Baaki Hai looks at…”, “The reason Picture Abhi Baaki Hai…”. I am not quoting the book verbatim but you get the drift. Reading the prologue made me wonder if Dwyer was trying to justify the book’s existence to herself.

Dwyer’s Picture Abhi Baaki Hai reads like a PhD thesis. When I picked up the book, I expected Dwyer to lead me down memory lane with anecdotes – stories behind the stories that enthralled us. Rather, Dwyer is content in writing about the minutiae of how Bollywood reflects Indian culture – which if the book is meant to be read by Indians is astonishingly weird. Also, irritatingly, Dwyer explores everything with such deep academic sincerity that the text becomes rapidly vapid, even though it has infinite potential. Sample this – “The morality of the source of the anger is not in dispute but the action that Vijay pursues in the cause of his personal morality, may be questionable and is usually contrasted with that of a second hero, a brother or a friend, who follows the public morality of the law.” I have no clue why this should interest anyone but a movie theorist/ PhD aspirant.

The only saving grace for Picture Abhi Baaki Hai is the fact that it has these moments where the book speaks of our favourite films and has pictures of our favourite scenes from these films. Otherwise, Picture Abhi Baaki Hai is a book that simply deserves to gather dust in a derelict library. I have no clue why Hachette decided to mass market publish it. It has hardly anything for the lay reader in India. Maybe it can be sold abroad to Westerners trying to understand Bollywood’s linkages with Indian culture.

I am going with a generous 1 out of 5 stars. I genuinely feel sorry that such promising material was wasted so. Also, perhaps the book is not intended for Indian audiences at all. An additional .5 for the cover and the catchy title.

Book Review: The Legend of Ramulamma by Vithal Rajan

When I started reading this book I thought at worst, Ramulamma would be an Indian derivative of Agatha Christie’s somewhat underwhelming Ms. Marple – a shadow of her legendary Poirot. However, as I got further into the book, I realized that getting an Indian Ms. Marple might have actually been a good bargain.

Quite frankly, I did not quite understand what the book was supposed to be. Was it stories to build up Dalit women from Telengana? Was it about the childhood/ adulthood/ some other life stage adventures of Rajan in Telengana? Or was it a collection of random short stories set in rural/ semi rural India?

The title, blurb and the first chapter implied that I would be reading about a lady who has exemplary prowess as a detective. But the book goes on to talk more about happenings in the rural and urban households of Telengana where Ramulamma plays some part or the other. We travel from story to story without there being a character arc really – Ramulamma is a good samaritan in one story, a great detective in the next, where she solves a case long after the plot has revealed who the culprit is and then, a good natured maid servant in the next who helps an urban couple with her cunning.

Rajan has a good hold over English – rare with contemporary Indian authors and can write flowery prose. Unfortunately flowery prose stands in the way of his stories. In detective/ thriller novels, the prose needs to be littered with subtle clues or be so direct, hectic and fast paced that no one can figure out the obvious/ semi obvious clues. I understand that Rajan suffers mostly because he has titled the book (or his publisher has) The Legend of Ramulamma. It could have been more aptly titled Tales from Telengana and made for a breezy airport read.

A couple of stories are mildly interesting; I liked the Visitor story; four pages shorter and it would have been a taut classic. Rajan has a good hold over English and his writing hand is steady. But for a titular character, Ramulamma does not really display exemplary logical prowess. She just appears and solves problems, which sort of leaves you exasperated as you do not get the Aha your mind craves when you read a detective mystery novel. The fact that the book is actually a collection of short stories doesn’t help; Ramulamma doesn’t really have enough mystique, character or backstory to actually do what she so suddenly does at the end of every story.

I am going with a generous 1.5 out of 5 stars for Vithal Rajan’s The Legend of Ramulamma. He can write but without a plot, all books are as good as a blog. I am rather surprised the publisher found the content publishable in a paperback.