It took some time to complete Karin Slaughter’s Pretty Girls. This is not because the plot wasn’t interesting, but because I was trying to divide my time equally among other interests in life. The storytelling is intense, descriptive, and graphic. So, I had to take breaks. Anyone who cannot handle violence should stay away from the book. It’s by far the most violent book I have ever read.
The crime thriller follows the story of three sisters. One of them has been missing for years, while the other two navigate their lives without their eldest sister’s presence. Their parents are separated, unable to cope with their daughter’s absence. What happened to their eldest? Why aren’t the cops providing clear answers? This mystery forms the crux of the story.
If you enjoy thrillers, I’d highly recommend Pretty Girls. Personally, I felt the descriptions were a bit lengthy at times, which slowed the pace for me. However, readers who appreciate detailed scenes and emotional depth may find that aspect especially engaging.
Ending this review with some interesting quotes from the book:
That she ended up with a boy who had grown up less than twenty miles from her childhood home was just further proof that no matter how far you ran, you always ended up back where you started.
People did not change their basic, core personalities. Their values tended to stay the same.
“The world stops for you when you’re pretty. That’s why women spend billions on crap for their faces. Their whole life, they’re the center of attention. People want to be around them just because they’re attractive. Their jokes are funnier. Their lives are better. And then suddenly, they get bags under their eyes or they put on a little weight and no one cares about them anymore. They cease to exist.”
“Reductio ad Hitlerum.” Claire couldn’t stop quoting Paul. “It’s when you compare someone to Hitler to win an argument.”
“Dyadic Completion,” Paul would’ve told Claire. “The human brain tends to assume that, if there’s a victim, there has to be a villain.”
He reminds me of the worst kind of student I used to have—the kind who is certain that they already know everything worth knowing
The Love Queen of Malabar is a captivating exploration of the life of Kamala Das, also known as Kamala Surayya, one of India’s most celebrated poets. Written by Merrily Weisbord, the book is thought-provoking, highly controversial, poetic, melancholic, and at times, shocking.
Kamala Das shares her deepest emotions with Merrily, treating her as a confidante in revealing thoughts that range from lyrical to unexpected. While the book may not appeal to everyone, it left a lasting impression on me—an eye-opener that offered a rare glimpse into the intimate world of a literary icon.
I have carefully selected some non-controversial quotes from the book. Not everything Kamala says can be shared publicly due to its sensitive nature. However, the quotes listed here provide insight into Kamala’s thoughtful persona and capture the essence of Merrily’s book.
“A writer moves away from family, old relationships, very far with the speed of a falling star,” she says. “Otherwise the writer is destroyed, and only the member of the family remains: the mother, sister, daughter, wife. The writer at some point must ask, Do I want to be a well-loved member of the family? Or do I want to be a good writer? You can’t be both at the same time. The days when you are with the children and are being a very good mother, you cease to be the writer. You feel repelled by the pen and the paper, which are definitely going to come between you and your loved ones.”
“Because the writer can give all of herself only to that task of writing. She will have to write against her loved one, put him under the microscope, dissect him, analyze his thoughts, his words. After a while he is no longer the man you held in your arms at night. You have cut him into little slivers, everything is burst open, he is seeds and pulp and juice all spread out in little bits on your writer’s table. After that, you can’t go to his arms the same way.”
If I had not learned to write how would I have written away my loneliness or grief? Garnering them within my heart would have grown heavy as a vault, one that only death might open, a release then I would not be able to feel or sense.
“Ask the books that I read why I changed,” she says. “Ask the authors dead and alive who communicated with me and gave me the courage to be myself.”
“Make a woman laugh, then make her cry, that is the secret of a good film. Not make her cry, cry, cry. What message is that for women today?”
Her dislike of organized religion is so much more pronounced than on my last visit that I wonder if any beliefs remain to comfort her. “Yes,” she answers. “A concept of God. A presence in my room. I’m not alone. I visualize a shower of moonlight falling on someone in prayer. It is a soothing exercise. I feel bathed in light, and I know there is a God.”
She tells me that even in Kerala, which prides itself on religious coexistence, she is still being attacked from both sides. The Hindu Sangh Parivar, an association of Hindu nationalist organizations, protests her ownership of the snake shrine on her own ancestral property at Nalapat because she is a Muslim. The Muslims are “disgusted” with her because she speaks against their practices and clergy, refusing to support sectarian politics she finds unpalatable. “They feel they are losing their grip on me.”
I purchased A Thousand Cuts because I wanted to know Professor T.J. Joseph’s side of the story. Those who don’t closely follow news from South India might not have heard of him. I will offer an introduction before moving on to the quotes from his book.
Who is Professor TJ Joseph?
Professor T.J. Joseph is a retired college professor from Kerala, India. He gained significant attention after he became a victim of religious extremism. The tragedy that occurred in 2010 shook Kerala to the core and impacted the communal harmony of the state. Never had Kerala witnessed such a radical act in modern history. How and why did this happen?
The Tragic 2010 Incident
In 2010, while working as a Malayalam professor at Newman College in Kerala, Professor Joseph set up a question paper for an exam. One of the questions unexpectedly became viral due to its controversial nature. Professor T.J. Joseph did not mean any harm when he drafted the question. He had simply taken influence from a book that he had read. But alas, many misunderstood the actual intention behind the question and accused the Professor of blasphemy.
Despite offering an apology, communal tensions refused to die down. The religious were angry. Fearing for his life, and feeling utterly unsafe in his surroundings, he ran away from home. After moving from one district to another, he finally decided there was no point in hiding, especially when he had done no wrong. He returned home, only to be eventually attacked by PFI members. He was mercilessly beaten up, and his right hand, which the extremists accused of writing the “dreaded” question, was severed in front of his family, neighbors, and other village folk who stood shellshocked, too scared to intervene. It took multiple complex surgical procedures to re-attach his hand.
Kerala is a state that is renowned for its communal harmony. But it is also known for its appeasement politics. The state government, politicians, and media did little to help Professor TJ Joseph. His Church abandoned him out of fear and ego. The Professor ended up losing his job in the college on the grounds of misconduct, although he was later reinstated after public outcry and intervention by authorities. He was the sole breadwinner in his family, and his wife and children had to endure many hardships due to his job loss. His wife, Salomi, slowly went into depression and died by suicide. The chapter on his wife is the only chapter without a title. It’s as if words aren’t enough to encapsulate the depth of his grief.
I bought his book because I had only heard the media’s version of his story till now. We all know by now how the media often tries to cover up facts based on their own biases. The present state of mainstream media made me purchase the book. I am glad I did it. The details are chilling. The points I am giving are only a summary of the things that happened. When you read the book, you are transported into Professor Joseph’s world of art, cinema, poetry, desperation, fear, courage, and resolve. He explains every little incident in vibrant detail. You can’t help but shed a few tears. I feel Kerala collectively failed him. Yet, his optimism and his dry sense of humor prevail and serve as a source of inspiration. Here’s a teacher who is teaching everyone in his own unique way how to combat the extremes that life throws at you.
Professor T.J. Joseph’s case remains one of the most shocking cases of religiously motivated violence in Kerala. The incident sparked widespread anger and discussions about freedom of expression and religious intolerance. The PFI members involved were later arrested and convicted. But, sadly, as a society, we still remain religiously intolerant. If you take a peek at the comments under any of his videos or news articles, you will know what I mean.
Quotes from Professor TJ Joseph’s Book
In an apology of a democracy, the interests of the mob got weightage over anything else, even if those interests were born out of ignorance, against truth and flagrantly unethical. Vote banks comprise such mobs. They shoulder the chair of power.
Marital life is a kind of war. An extraordinary war that lasts a lifetime. In a normal war, the one who defeats the opponent wins the war. In a marriage, the one who defeats the other will also lose. Therefore, marriage is a war where one must win without defeating the significant other.
My rationale was that as I had taught thousands of students, a large number of whom were Muslims, even if some misguided elements wanted to harm me, wouldn’t they first ask my students, and wouldn’t my students stand up for me and disabuse them of their wrong notions about me?
The mind of a student of literature must be dispassionate. Only in a place where there is no entrenched emotion can all emotion enter. Only in spaces where no one belief has nested itself can enlightenment enter and soar.
As I lay there accepting gifts and graces, I thought I must not merely forgive my attackers but thank them as well. For until then, I had never received so much love and care.
The attack on me was condemned even by Muslim organizations. The Church authorities alone remained silent.
I have been told that the gang that attacked me was made up of active members of an organization called Popular Front of India (PFI) and its political wing known as the Social Democratic Party of India (SDPI). All the members of the attack gang were then sent to various safe houses and shifted from one to another frequently with the help of many sympathizers.
The fish seller in our area in Muvattupuzha was a Muslim. Earlier, if we asked for half a kilo, we would receive exactly half a kilo. That has changed since: when we ask for half a kilo, we get at least three-fourths of a kilo. Only when I threatened to stop buying his fish if he didn’t accept payment did he, very reluctantly, start to accept money from me again.
Pinarayi Vijayan said that the whole of Kerala was on my side and that there was no difference between the extremists from PFI who had chopped off my hand and the church diocese that owned and managed the college.
At one time, having run out of funds, when I was at the end of my tether, Yukthivadi Sanghatana (Rationalists Organization) turned up with the money they had collected for me. I asked myself, why would they need other gods when they are themselves playing the role of God?
After I was attacked and maimed, I appealed to the state chief minister and home minister to withdraw the blasphemy case filed by the police against me of their own accord. The government had no will or courage to withdraw a case they had got instituted for communal appeasement.
The view that the suicide was caused by the unjust and immoral ways of the Newman College authorities predominated. One thing is certain, a dead Salomi is more powerful than a live Salomi. Because what she couldn’t achieve while alive, she could, by dying—bring the management to change their mind.
I recently bought a book titled Kashmir Narratives. It is authored by Colonel Ajay Raina, a retired Indian Army officer. To quote his bio on Amazon, “I am the only son of refugee parents who were young kids when the 1947 bloodied partition saw the creation of two new States of India and Pakistan and when the biggest ever migration of humans took place on this earth. Post my education, I got commissioned into the Indian Army as an officer in 1990 and served till the end of 2017.“
I happened to see his interview somewhere and decided to buy the book. It has a lot of information on Kashmir, focusing on its history, but what I found particularly interesting was the information on the condition of the plebiscite in Kashmir. Before we get to that, let’s understand what a plebiscite is.
What is a plebiscite?
A plebiscite is a direct vote by the people of a region (in this case, Kashmir) on an important public issue. In simpler words, in relation to Kashmir, a plebiscite allows Kashmiris to vote for its future – specifically, whether the region would join India or Pakistan. Interestingly, only these two options were presented, with no option explicitly listed of allowing Kashmir to function as an independent state.
How did the idea of a plebiscite in Kashmir emerge?
The idea of a plebiscite came into effect following the partition of British India in 1947 when the princely states were given the option to join either India or Pakistan.
Jammu and Kashmir initially chose to remain independent. However, after an invasion by tribal forces from Pakistan, Maharaja Hari Singh sought military assistance from India and signed the Instrument of Accession, formally acceding to India. This led to the first Indo-Pakistani war in 1947-48.
To resolve the conflict, the UN intervened, and the United Nations Security Council (UNSC) passed Resolution 47 in 1948. This resolution called for a ceasefire, the withdrawal of Pakistani forces from the region, and a significant reduction of Indian army officers. This was to allow for a free and fair plebiscite under UN supervision without any sort of intimidation. The plebiscite was supposed to let the people of Jammu and Kashmir decide their allegiance to either India or Pakistan. The result of the plebiscite would have depended on the majority vote.
However, the plebiscite was never conducted due to several reasons, including disagreements between India and Pakistan over the conditions set by the UN.
Clause (a) in Resolution 47
Most of us aren’t aware of Clause (a) in Resolution 47 passed by the UNSC. It states the condition of a plebiscite in Kashmir. Refer to UN Digital Library – Resolution 47 (1948) – Page 4:
To secure the withdrawal from the State of Jammu and Kashmir of tribesmen and Pakistani nationals not normally resident therein who have entered the State for the purpose of fighting, and to prevent any intrusion into the State of such elements and any furnishing of material aid to those fighting in the State.
The clause requires the complete withdrawal of Pakistani forces from the region. However, this condition remains unfulfilled as militants keep infiltrating the area.
Interestingly, India keeps getting the majority of the blame for not allowing a plebiscite, while it’s clear that Pakistan hasn’t fulfilled its part of the resolution. The resolution placed initial responsibility on Pakistan to withdraw its forces from the region. Only after this withdrawal was India supposed to reduce its military presence. This was then to be followed by a plebiscite. Because neither side fully complied with the conditions set out in the resolution, the situation has remained unresolved.
Final thoughts
I can’t help but wonder, had the “freedom seekers” in Kashmir known about this condition for a plebiscite, would they have applied more force on Pakistani militants to move out of the region? As stated, the first step toward a plebiscite is to ensure the Pakistani militants have withdrawn completely.
The UN has not formally retracted Resolution 47. It is currently in a dormant state. However, there is a possibility of Resolution 47 being re-invoked if the UNSC decides to revisit it.
I recently completed Fredrik Backman’s Anxious People. The book is about a failed bank robbery that turns into a hostage situation during an open-house apartment viewing. The story unfolds as a group of diverse characters, each with their own personal struggles and secrets, are brought together in an unexpected and tense situation.
“Anxious People” includes dollops of humor and empathy. Backman delves into the complexities of human emotions, vulnerabilities, and how human connection and shared experiences can bind even the most distinct characters. Ultimately, humanity and kindness win.
Fredrik Backman has a knack for words. His quotes in Beartown were a class apart and remain one of the most popular pages on this blog. His writing in Anxious People is no different. In no time, he captures your heart with his words to describe emotions that are generally not easy to translate into words.
Here are some of my most favorite quotes from the book:
This story is about a lot of things, but mostly about idiots. So it needs saying from the outset that it’s always very easy to declare that other people are idiots, but only if you forget how idiotically difficult being human is.
Our hearts are bars of soap that we keep losing hold of; the moment we relax, they drift off and fall in love and get broken, all in the wink of an eye. We’re not in control.
He presses his thumbs hard against his eyebrows, as if he hopes they’re two buttons and if he keeps them pressed at the same time for ten seconds he’ll be able to restore life to its factory settings.
Because you’ve probably been depressed yourself, you’ve had days when you’ve been in terrible pain in places that don’t show up in X-rays, when you can’t find the words to explain it even to the people who love you.
At the end of your career you’re trying to find a point to it all, and at the start of it you’re looking for a purpose.
Older men rarely know what to say to younger men to let them know that they care. It’s so hard to find the words when all you really want to say is: ‘I can see you’re hurting.’
‘Do you know what the worst thing about being a parent is? That you’re always judged by your worst moments. You can do a million things right, but if you do one single thing wrong you’re for ever that parent who was checking his phone in the park when your child was hit in the head by a swing. We don’t take our eyes off them for days at a time, but then you read just one text message and it’s as if all your best moments never happened. No one goes to see a psychologist to talk about all the times they weren’t hit in the head by a swing as a child. Parents are defined by their mistakes.’
She said you can’t protect your kids from life, because life gets us all in the end.
That’s an impossible thing for sons to grasp, and a source of shame for fathers to have to admit: that we don’t want our children to pursue their own dreams or walk in our footsteps. We want to walk in their footsteps while they pursue our dreams.
There was a time when a bank was a bank. But now there are evidently ‘cashless’ banks, banks without any money, which is surely something of a travesty? It’s hardly surprising that people get confused and society is going to the dogs when it’s full of caffeine-free coffee, gluten-free bread, alcohol-free beer.
We give those we love nicknames, because love requires a word that belongs to us alone.
Good grief, no one could cope with being newly infatuated, year after year. When you’re infatuated you can’t think about anything else, you forget about your friends, your work, your lunch. If we were infatuated all the time we’d starve to death. And being in love means being infatuated … from time to time. You have to be sensible.
The problem is that everything is relative, happiness is based on expectations, and we have the Internet now. A whole world constantly asking us: ‘But is your life as perfect as this? Well? How about now? Is it as perfect as this? If it isn’t, change it!’
The worst thing a divorce does to a person isn’t that it makes all the time you devoted to the relationship feel wasted, but that it steals all the plans you had for the future.
‘And … winners earn a lot of money, which is also important, I assume? What do you do with yours?’
‘I buy distance from other people.’
The psychologist had never heard that response before. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Expensive restaurants have bigger gaps between the tables. First class on aeroplanes has no middle seats. Exclusive hotels have separate entrances for guests staying in suites. The most expensive thing you can buy in the most densely populated places on the planet is distance.’
You can always tell by the way people who love each other argue: the longer they’ve been together, the fewer words they need to start a fight.
When you’re a child you long to be an adult and decide everything for yourself, but when you’re an adult you realize that’s the worst part of it.
We can’t change the world, and a lot of the time we can’t even change people. No more than one bit at a time. So we do what we can to help whenever we get the chance, sweetheart. We save those we can.
We do our best. Then we try to find a way to convince ourselves that that will just have to … be enough. So we can live with our failures without drowning.
One of the most human things about anxiety is that we try to cure chaos with chaos. Someone who has got themselves into a catastrophic situation rarely retreats from it, we’re far more inclined to carry on even faster. We’ve created lives where we can watch other people crash into the wall but still hope that somehow we’re going to pass straight through it. The closer we get, the more confidently we believe that some unlikely solution is miraculously going to save us, while everyone watching us is just waiting for the crash.
Boats that stay in the harbour are safe, sweetheart, but that’s not what boats were built for.
Young people today. You’re so aware of how you affect your children. I heard a paediatrician say on television that a generation ago, parents used to come to him and say, “Our child’s wetting the bed, what’s wrong with him?” Now, a generation later, they come to him and say, “Our child’s wetting the bed, what’s wrong with us?” You take the blame for everything.
Nothing must happen to you
No, what am I saying
Everything must happen to you
And it must be wonderful
They say that a person’s personality is the sum of their experiences. But that isn’t true, at least not entirely, because if our past was all that defined us, we’d never be able to put up with ourselves. We need to be allowed to convince ourselves that we’re more than the mistakes we made yesterday. That we are all of our next choices, too, all of our tomorrows.
Perhaps it’s true what they say, that up to a certain age a child loves you unconditionally and uncontrollably for one simple reason: you’re theirs. Your parents and siblings can love you for the rest of your life, too, for precisely the same reason.
I recently finished reading A Hundred Little Flames by Preeti Shenoy. I bought the book assuming it would be a romantic novel (and I was proven right, but not in the way I expected). I had not taken the time to read the synopsis or reviews. I wanted the element of surprise, so I chose the book merely by looking at the title.
This is my first Preeti Shenoy book, so I was unsure what to expect. I was not looking for an ultra-cheesy romance but something wholesome and warm. I am happy to report that I got what I needed.
The main character, a young urban male residing in India, is pushed to leave his cozy job in a metro due to unprecedented situations and return to Kerala to visit his grandfather. As my base is in Kerala (Palakkad), this particular bit captured my attention. It played a major factor in my buying the book. How Preeti Shenoy beautifully narrated the ethereal, laidback beauty of a typical village in Kerala won my heart.
There are many layers to this book. And many lessons. Here are some of my observations:
As most might know, Kerala is an aging state. The youngsters are leaving for better opportunities, while the parents and the elderly are choosing to stay behind. The many anxieties of an old person living a lonely life in Kerala are explained with much sensitivity in this book. It is something I witness whenever I visit home. Apart from my family, my elderly neighbors rush to me when they need help. There is always some mobile phone, gadget, or internet-related issue to be resolved. Their doubts could be as simple as “Will my WhatsApp DP appear to everyone on my contact list? Or only those whom I chat with?” These senior citizens often hesitate to call their children for help. “They will be busy,” they tell me. So they rely on youngsters around them to help with online work like booking vaccination slots during COVID-19, registering an online complaint, etc.
When they fall sick, they usually depend on neighbors to help them reach the hospital. Their children are able to arrive only a few days later, if at all they can. Their stay often does not last beyond a week. “We don’t have any leaves left,” they say. The fact that their children are out of reach might pinch the parents a bit during such pressing times. But they endure it, saying kids should enjoy themselves and life goes on.
As a silent observer, I often see the anxiety written on their faces and their mild helplessness. There’s concern regarding whom to ask for help. I guess, when we age, we all reach such a stage.
All these elements are captured well in Preeti Shenoy’s book – the problems of the elderly. I wonder if she has stayed with a senior citizen for an extended period, as only such people get to experience what an elderly goes through on a day-to-day basis.
Apart from this, I also immensely enjoyed the sweet, poetic love story depicted in the book. It caught me by surprise. The story was delicately told, and the characters were perfectly etched out. A warm romance with many layers, where the couple engages in a striking serenade of comforting words. The book shows how love is not always a straight, perfect line. It can be complex and unpredictable, hurtful even. Yet, love persists. The book captures this complexity brilliantly. It has an old-world charm to it. I am of the impression it would make a great movie.
I would definitely recommend buying the book. It is engaging from page one, and it will hook you into a world that is peaceful, and bright, yet somber and bittersweet all at the same time.
The Monkey Dilemma 
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