Book Review : Prisoner, Jailor, Prime Minister by Tabrik C.

Title : Prisoner, Jailor, Prime Minister

Author : Tabrik C.

Publisher : Hachette India (January 2014)

Politics. Love it, hate it…but you can’t ignore it.

Same goes with this political thriller PRISONER, JAILOR, PRIME MINISTER. One might love it, or not like it at all, but cannot deny the fact that it is a page turner.

I, for one, am not a big fan of politics. But having recently seen a popular political drama series and loving it to the core, I had decided to give this genre a chance. So when BLOGADDA put  Prisoner, Jailor, Prime Minister by Tabrik C. up for review, I had to give it a shot.  The timing for the book could not have been better as India is witnessing ,as the book says, a changing political landscape. The book vaguely reminds you of a certain Simon Kernick book, but only loosely because you are too captivated by Tabrik C to be thinking of anything else.

To only give you an outline, Prisoner,Jailor,Prime Minister centers around Siddhartha Tagore, a musical prodigy famous as Mozart man at Howard whose fate has him imprisoned inside 7,Race Course Road, Delhi in a crucial time. But being India’s Prime minister, a musical prodigy,a man with a pro – Tibet, anti – China sentiments is just a brief introduction to the character.  As the story keeps shifting swiftly between the past and the present, you start discovering that there is more than meets the eye. One of the most complex characters I have read in contemporary Indian fiction alone makes the book worth a read. As you read more, and think more about it, you start realising that it is not just a political thriller, but more of a struggle of a person trying to be true to himself. The character is realistic in the sense of how he is fighting the past but not regretting it, who has to deal with the complexities of his own mind and the responsibilities that have been shrugged on to him. These are dilemmas faced by a commoner in India and that is why you love the character. Does he survive the struggle or like most of non- fictional characters succumbs to his circumstances is for only you to find out, as I urge you to buy this book and read.

Prisoner,Jailor, Prime Minister is edgy, bold, captivating, intriguing and intelligent. Despite being fictitious, you cannot help compare India’s current political scenario and ponder if a monarch like our protagonist will be savior of the country. A truly contemporary vision (use of social media and stuff like that in the story line in the most sensible,realistic way) makes the book very realistic and some oh-so-fictional twists make it thoroughly entertaining. Tabrik does not only do a great work on the plot, but also on developing the characters,main and supporting, as he pulls off a detailed narration,shifting time lines with ease. It is definitely a breath of fresh air in the contemporary Indian fiction writing scene.

Go grab your copies.

You can buy it here.

Condition Abhi Bhi Serious Hai!

I was kicking dirt with my left foot out of boredom as I saw, with my first kick, the shiny oily head in front of me swing quickly in 180 degrees. I was prepared for the disapproving look. And there it was. Those spectacled eyes staring right into my face. The thick glasses couldn’t filter the resentment those eyes held for me. I quickly glanced at Sameer and he was already looking at me , both our eyes resonating notorious satisfaction. Shilpa, the girl I spent my entire school life as a bench partner, still was glaring down at me on our school ground as we stood patiently in straight lines and tried to concentrate on the head boy reading news. I flashed her a fake smile, and she turned with a jerk. And a grunt.

Every day of my school I regretted not being taller, like my other friends. Because with the height wise seating, every year I had to share my desk with Shilpa.

Shilpa : she was all the cliché’s put together. Thoroughly oiled hair tied back in two neat and long plaits held together by broad ugly ribbons. Gold earrings, and thick specs that rested on that long, sharp pierced nose. She was obviously the topper in our class throughout. A teacher’s pet who used to be always prepared for any surprise test thrown at us by the monsters that hid in our teachers. The disapproving look I received in the assembly line was just the first of many to come during the day. My only relief was Sameer, who even though was tall, was made to sit on the first bench because of his notorious reputation. Every time Sameer and I giggled over something (we didn’t really need a reason) , our happiness was cut short by Shilpa’s condescending chuckle or grunt or the vigorous shaking of her head from side to side. Once Sameer and I even tried letting her in on a prank, which resulted in me learning new cuss words from Sameer as he and I stood on the ground in scorching heat for an entire day in detention. Never again… we swore!

It has been ten years since we passed out of the school. Sameer and I fell in love after years of our friendship and are engaged to be married now.  The other day, we were on my way home on his bike. I live right next to my school, and whenever he comes homes to drop me, we both instantaneously, like a reflex, turn our heads to the right and catch a glimpse of our school as we pass by it. That day, for the split second that Sameer’s eyes were off the road, an auto coming from the wrong side in great speed, hit us. We both fell off the bike, and thankfully none of us were trapped under his massive cruiser. As we were getting up, we say a lanky girl, with long neatly oiled plait and round specs get out of the auto with a look of horror on her face. Sameer and I gaped at each other. We knew perfectly what was to be done next. We started staring down at Shilpa as she stood speechless, gaping at us. We stared her down, the same condescending look we had never forgotten about. In slow dramatic steps, rolling up our sleeves and never breaking the stare, we both started walking in unison towards her. Shilpa looked lost. ‘ It was not my fault, I wasn’t driving’, she managed to stutter. But our expressions never changed. As we were at a breath’s distance from this girl we hated so much in school, we were still glad to have, quite literally, bumped into her. We couldn’t hold on to the serious faces any longer and broke into laughter, and gave her a hug. She pulled back almost immediately and now, our expression was stuck on her face. “You guys are crazy. You haven’t grown up even a bit” She rushed back into the auto and signaled him to go. Sameer and I couldn’t stop laughing over how this teacher’s pet had not changed at all!

Still laughing, we picked up the bike and gave way to the gathered traffic. As I was sitting on the pillion ride, Sameer shaking his head, condition abhi bhi serious hai boss! We couldn’t stop smiling the entire day!

This post was written for “Contest – Condition Serious Hai!” at Indiblogger

Happy Birthday Sheetal!

10 th January comes in every year with a lot of excitement and fun. It’s my best friend’s birthday. The girl I have known since I was 3 years old. And it’s her first birthday since she moved to the USA.

I miss her. She has been everything I ever needed. There’s no one who understands me better,and with all the cracks in me,still loves me just the way I love her! She has been my partner in crime and my savior in crisis.All the shenanigans we plan, and all the unplanned craziness that follows us whenever we are together,wherever we go…there’s never a dull moment with her! This is probably the best day to tell her how much I love her, and how much I wish to see her : be happy, laugh enough, be healthy, go crazy, love unconditionally, dare to dream, and work hard to realise those dreams, travel a lot, take splendid photographs, let go of grudges, be insightful, be sensitive, and well of course,at some point come back to India  ;)

Sheetal, you are the best thing that happened to me,the best friend I could have ever asked for! Love you to bits.

Wishing You A Very Happy 27th (sorry,I’ll join you soon) Birthday!!!

sheetal birthday 2014 (FILEminimizer)

Why?

WHY?

You ask the thin air, you ask the hazy smoke.

You ask the distant stars, and beyond them, that bloke.

Why?

You think hard and long,

All those sleepless nights.

The unheard apologies, the unsaid goodbyes;

And you don’t even know why.

Why?

Your eyes are sore, your stomach hungry,

your body is aching and heart still broken.

The ice-cold eyes still render you speechless,

and you can’t even utter that single worded question…

Why?

You think you are ready, strong enough to know.

But the other side of why is always the harder blow.

No amount of hurt could prepare you for the answer,

And once you know, it can never be undone.

Why?

Why do you really want to know why?

Does it matter now?

Does it change anything anyway?

Does it relieve the pain?

Why?

Sometimes these questions are best left unanswered.

For the fear of unknown is better than the unending pain on the other side of

WHY?

The untimely rain

I knew there was a hurricane in some unrelated-to-me part of the world. But I hadn’t expected it to affect me. As I walked down the road, unsuspecting,unprepared… it rained on me. I could see the road ahead of me was getting dark and the rain was only getting heavier. I tried finding rhyme in the shower,to make my journey tolerable. But I couldn’t! The sudden screeching lighting scared the shit out of me for a second. But I realised it also helped me see my path. Even though I have always been scared of lightning, since childhood, I knew it was my only saviour right now. There was no point in fighting it. I had to befriend my enemy, grow over my fear and see the other side of this coin.
As the heavy raindrops continued hitting my drenched hair, my fingers started getting numb. Another lightning, and I knew that I was half way there. Already? Not bad, I thought to myself.
I suddenly started enjoying the rain. Kicking the small puddles along the curb, I finally found the rhythm in the rain. And strength in the lightning.
No matter what time in the year,what phase in your life,the untimely rain will always try to boggle you down. The challenge is, not always being prepared for the rain; what is life if you are over cautious after all? The challenge is dealing with the rain. Never mind if you get drenched,let yourself be poured upon by life. The challenge, and the beauty is, continuing on your journey,no matter what. The challenge is enjoying the journey,no matter what. And emerging stronger, every single time.

a hope to remain the way i was born…

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