Book Review: The Fourth Protocol by Frederick Forsyth

This book published in 1984 is set in an era of the Cold War, a state of ceaseless military, political and economic tension.

A supreme plot of a plan, audacious beyond belief,starts off in Britain, with the not so innocuous theft of diamonds and with them unwittingly extremely confidential high security documents that have apparently been leaked. The documents are sent back by the patriot enough thief to the right people, sparking off intelligence operations. Several thousand miles away at Moscow, a plan is being hatched, that seeks to spiral Britain into revolution. MI5 officer John Preston, leads the operation of unraveling the Russian operation called Plan Aurora, and to stop a devastating trigger that would cause a cataclysmic shift in the balance of powers on the globe. This racy book catapults the reader into the web of lethal power play, covert agents, treachery and spine chilling lengths that people go to achieve their means. I ld give a four star to this book.

A movie based on this book starring Michael Caine and Pierce Brosnan would be worth seeing after reading the book.

Umajoshi ye ye ye

Was just reminiscing about the good ol' days when we used to play those mast games and sing silly songs and clap along!
It used to be so much fun playing in the evenings till Moms had to come and drag us back home to have dinner and do our homework. And we used always shout out our friends' names to come and play downstairs!

"Colour Colour which Colour do you want"!! and then a scramble for the reds/blues/greens on whoever was wearing that colour!
This one was I guess, not too common...a mix of Colour colour and Dongar aur Paani (Land and water)...it was "Crocodile Crocodile, can we cross the river...Yes if you have Red!!"
Then there was Bachao Sakhali and Hide and Seek and a variant Stop Party, Langdi, Jhipri, the hot favorite Vish Amrit with various names such as Poison and Medicine, Lock and Key!, then there was an indoor, rather inside the building games Corner to corner, one to do with a hanky..with all of us sitting in a circle and chanting "I wrote a letter to my mother and on the way I lost it lost it lost it. The postman came and picked it up and put it in his pocket pocket pocket..",..Well I dont remember the rest!

Selecting the danner was another ritual...we went "Dip dip dip...my blue ship..sailing in the water, like a cup and saucer, dip dip dip"!
There were stupid ones like "In pin septi pin, in pin out.." and who can forget ganda songs like "Aada pada kisne paada, mamaji ka ghoda pada...!!..wont say the rest!", then a simple 10 20 30 ...100 (out), or putting our hands facing our palms or otherwise and y elling, Majority!!

And what about the clapping games we girls played...Alas I hardly remember all those songs except my favorite Umajoshi which come to think of it now, couldnt have been sillier!
It went ..
"Umajoshi ye ye ye
My mother told me sixty years ago
There came a lady knocking at the door
With a Ooh, Aah, I want some Pah!!(?)
The Pah is sweet, I want some Meat
the meat is tough, I want to go by bus
The bus is full, I want to go by bull
The bull is fat, I want my money back
The money is green, I want some cherry beans
The cherry beans are red, I want to go to bed
The bed is yellow, goodbye dirty fellow!!!"

the shortest one..."Aaa mina...clap clap clap....super sina...clap clap clap...big boys...clap clap clap...lazy girls clap clap clap...
Aa mina supersina big boys lazy girls ..Statue!!

Of all the Charlie Chaplin songs, I remember only one now..
"Charlie Chaplin went to town, to teach a lady disco dance
A knee, a Toe, A round we go
Salute to the king and Bow to the queen,
O V E R over over over, Statue!!!

Another fun game was "Who stole the cookies from the cookies jaar"...Number 3 stole the cookies from the cookies jar...who me, yes you, couldnt be, then who?...........

If u remember any more rituals and games and silly songs...do put them on!!

Richa

Marvellous Mahabaleshwar

This time I ll let the pictures do the talking. A picture is worth a thousand words you see!

Branching out

What we ate the most!

Monkey Business!

We in the Valleys

Butta Woman

Strawberries with Cream...Mmmmmmmmm

I thought this was only in kiddies drawings!

Crrrunchy Carrots

The woods are lovely, dark and deep

See the elephant?

At the Summit of Glory

The little grey cells of Hercule Poirot: Agatha Christie

Agatha Christie has always been one of my favorite authors and her fictional Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot has been an all time favorite character.

Captain Arthur Hastings, Poirot’s friend, describes Poirot as:
"He was hardly more than five feet four inches but carried himself with great dignity. His head was exactly the shape of an egg, and he always perched it a little on one side. His moustache was very stiff and military. Even if everything on his face was covered, the tips of moustache and the pink-tipped nose would be visible.
The neatness of his attire was almost incredible; I believe a speck of dust would have caused him more pain than a bullet wound. Yet this quaint dandified little man had been in his time one of the most celebrated members of the Belgian police."


The ‘little grey cells’ of Poirot have never ceased to amaze me. When the most puzzling of all mysteries, flummoxes all at Scotland yard, and of course, the reader, Poirot, with a twirl of his moustache, clears all the haze. I recently read the stories in ‘The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding’, a collection of six superb stories which leave the reader guessing. A valuable ruby hidden in the pudding, a man found dead in a Spanish chest, a dream about suicide come true, all were planned so ingeniously, but ofcourse, just a tad less ingeniously for Poirot to unearth the truth! This book also features a story solved by the adorable grandmotherly Miss Jane Marple.

What has me hooked to Agatha Christie is the build up of the story, the typical English characters, traditional English house holds comprising of maids, butlers etc, the brilliance of the plot itself which seemingly is so impossible, but when Poirot, opens the cards, its all crystal clear, almost as if, there could be no other solution! Wish our police force solving all those murder mysteries such as the Aarushi case, had Hercule Poirot’s little grey cells!

 

Book Review: The Financial Expert by R.K Narayan

Indian Authors have always been high on my reading list. I reckon it is because I certainly can associate with what they write and the very Indianness of the characters. I recently read up ‘The Financial Expert’ by one prolific writer known as RK Narayan. This tale is yet another that is woven in the fictitious town of Malgudi set in Tamil Nadu.

The story revolves around the rise and fall in fortunes of Margayya, a financial wizard who helps out people sort out their financial woes. The colourful delineation of Malgudi is a delight, and brings out several facets of traditional Indian life. Margayya seemingly lacks nothing in life as he progresses from under the banyan tree to a celebrity status with a formidable reputation in money matters. Unfortunately, his pampered son, does not show the same ambition, and spends his time frittering his father’s wealth. The story is extremely simple, but it’s the endearing and humorous depiction of the South Indian characters that takes the cake and differentiates RK Narayan from other authors.

Goaaahhhhhh...Goa

Goaahhhhhhhhhhhh…Goaaa. .Thats where I headed to last weekend after a lot of planning that usually goes and went completely haywire, and eleventh hour decisions that saved the day.

Goa is the land of bountiful beaches, silvery sands and wondrous waters. The desert, I mentioned in my earlier blog was the fourth wonder. The ocean, I say with all its miracles is the first and the most formidable of all. All the other wonders I was speaking of, the vast mountains, the endless skies and the blazing sands are no doubt humongous stretches, but the Sea, has one more facet to it….it Moves. The waves crashing on to the shore, speak of a life in it..a life that is serene at times and utterly menacing at other times when it rages violent storms and tsunamis wrecking havoc everywhere.

Well it's not just the sea that we went to see there ofcourse. Its the vibrancy and vigour of Goa that pulled us to it. With water sports on Calangute beach, romantic candlelit dinners at the Baga beach, lazy afternoons at shacks at Anjuna, the picturesque Vagator and Candolim beaches gives pretty much everything that one would desire wrt beaches! The pulse of Goa is lively and spirited with everyone from the shack waiters to the watersports wallahs serving people cheerfully. Midnight sees all of Goa still buzzing with brightly lit streets, restaurants alive, shops still selling wares off the roads and zingy bikers having a gala time flitting from one beach to another on these conveniently rented bikes. So you see, its always party time at Goa! The Saturday night bazaar or the flea market as they call it, was another interesting experience, with more pardesis (mostly in weird clothes) than desis.


Goa certainly rocks…I can’t wait to have another trip! Go Goa!

The Fourth Wonder

It was a sunny afternoon when I discovered Beauty. I had considered three elements, the turbulent seas, the star studded unending skies and the imposing mountains as the most awe inspiring wonders I had ever known. That day I discovered the fourth. It was the hauntingly starved desert. I had seen the desert on television, the biggest it got for me was 32’’. When I saw the Waheeba Sands at Oman, I discovered another facet of nature previously unknown to me. It was as vaster than I could see, more beautiful than I had imagined it to be. There was so much sand everywhere. Humongous stretches of ceaseless sand were interspersed with shrubs that looked ravaged by the blazing sun. I saw Sand that had built itself into mammoth dunes which looked more like mountains to me, Sand that was so fine that it felt like water in my hands, Sand that formed beautiful waves styled by the wind, Sand which changed colors from red to white to brown as we changed course in the desert and Slippery Sands on which Camels walked on with ease. I was enthralled completely by the beauty of the whole vista.
On the few meanderings I have had in this life, I ve always been fascinated with all that is natural on this earth. The verdant hills, the majestic mountains, the blue seas, the winding rivers and many more, are far more scenic than any sky scrapers or monuments Man could have ever built. Perhaps there is a certain power, a certain life to all that is natural. The sea moves like most other living beings or even the supposedly still desert, has sands that keep shifting and sandstorms that are a powerful force. Hats off to this great Power!



A more detailed blog is also on http://richaroams.com

IF

Life is so full of If's and buts.
If there is one poem that sums up so many philosophies across the world, it is the poem "IF" by Rudyard Kipling. This poem brings me solace, and sometimes is the guiding light for my corporate as well as my personal life.

If
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

Colours of India (2)!!!

Colours of India!!!

Colours. I associate India as a land of colours. I see bright colours in shops, in clothes, in painted walls, festivities and almost everything that is still Indian. We love the deep hues of Red, in the vermilion of a married woman, in the BEST buses, in the outfit of the blushing bride, in the hot favorite red Maruti. We love the multi coloured golas with the green Khus, the black kala-khatta, and the pink strawberry. Diwali lanterns brighten our homes in all conceivable hues and Holi gulal in the omniscent pink is splattered with greens, blues and yellows with pleasure. We love our Men in Blue and admire the page three celebs in black. We have scootys available in a 100 colours, asian paints in 1000s to mix, and we love Gems and Poppins which are all differently coloured. We love our varied cuisines which are is spiked with colourful spices. For each shade of a sari, there are 20 different shades to be matched with at the local matching center. We love colour coordinating our earrings, necklaces, bangles, purse, sandals with the rest of our outfit. We love the multi coloured rangolis to brighten up our verandahs and ward off evil spirits. Our Gods also come in blue (Lord Shiva), orange (Lord Ganesha) and black (Maa Kali). Even our dressing, has a colour code. Brides typically dress in red, widows are supposed to wear white, while sadhus don saffron. Well, that’s the colourful India for you!

Lighting a Candle

I light a candle for all those who sacrificed their lives and those who have been killed in terrorist activities. May their souls rest in peace.

Hostages to fear

I am a hostage to fear. I fear going to crowded places for shopping during Diwali, fear travelling by public transport, fear festive throngs during Janmashtami, fear going to the movie theater. Now I shall fear going to even so called up-market restaurants, and minimize whatever time I spend out-doors. Time and again, my ‘mighty’ and ‘fast developing’ India has proved that it is utterly incapable of handling terrorist activities. Here I am not talking about lame bombs kept by nameless cowardly faces that disappear after the dastardly act that others pay for. I am talking about an act that has had conniving, planning, gathering of huge resources that include well trained terrorists, machine guns, grenades and RDX bombs, and the brazenness to attack openly and get away with it. The mindless firing at Taj, our nation’s pride, and at several other places of national importance, left me shaken. Our intelligentsia had not a whiff of what was to come. This operation left me stunned. Something has snapped. The faith that things will get better, and lives will not be lost anymore due to these motivated but demented monsters was shattered.

India has supposedly a strong army which is proudly flaunted on the Republic day. But, it is sad that we can be so vulnerable, each time, these monsters come out and attack us. Do the officials really expect these monsters to come and intimate them of their plans to come and attack, in order to preempt these attacks? I am tired even to repeat the same things over and over again and condemn the monsters, condemn the government, condemn the opposition parties, condemn the intelligence agencies. I have no more words. I have no more hope.

Book Review: A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khalid Hosseni

Khalid Hosseni has come out with another winner after ‘The Kite Runner’. The Afgan landscape is once again delineated marvelously as the vistas of one oppressive regime after another unfold. This is a tale of two women whose supreme sacrifices for the other supersede everything else.

What I like about the book is that all the characters in the tale are strong and play a pivotal role. Mariam, is a poor harami, who is married at a very young age to a regressive widower 30 years senior to her. She has nothing to look forward in life, nobody to talk to her till the second protagonist, Laila steps into her desolate child-less household. Laila is vivacious, carefree and has everything she can desire in life including a good family and a sweetheart who adores her. Unfortunately the ravages that sweep through Afganistan spare nobody, and the two women find themselves in the same boat ready for desperate measures…

The story certainly lingered in my mind for several days as I thought of all the mindless destruction and trauma that the Afgans and especially the Afgani women who had been shackled by orthodoxy have had to go through. But at the end of it all, ‘A thousand splendid suns’ embodies the human hope and courage to lead a better life despite all odds.

Kashid ahoy!!

3 days of holidays!!!! Yipppeeeee!!! We hit the road on the independent morning (independent from work as well) on a unplanned long drive to Kashid. Not many would have heard of it. It’s a beach that is a 4-5 hour drive from Mumbai. Our spirits weren’t exactly soaring..a hard week at office, a vacation gone awry, no prior arrangement for lodging and boarding done at Kashid, getting stuck in an awful traffic jam for over two hours on a holiday..well, it all dissolved into nothingness as the verdant greenery all around enveloped us. The rains had enchanted the land and blessed it with a glory never seen in the bustle and pollution in today’s cities.

I had only heard of the rich vistas that the Konkan landscape offered. The ride offered hills, the seaside, green forests, pastures, quaint villages and everything a landscape can offer to please our eyes, minds and senses. We had anticipated a lack of sign boards and deserted roads. On the contrary, milestones, helping villagers appeared at all junctions guiding us along the way. As we neared Kashid, or so we thought, signs of “Good Lodging and Boarding facilities available” appeared at the gates of several homes as did several resort signs pop up everywhere. We checked out the “Nandgaon” beach, didn’t like it so much, so moved a further 30 kms to Kashid where the white sands and clean water completely bowled us over. The holiday season being full on, the 4 star hotels and resorts such as Prakruti Resorts, Sarve huts, Kashid Beach Resort etc, were all full anyway. We opted for accommodation at one of the alluring sea facing bunglows that were converted to acco places. There are a variety of offerings in these suiting all pockets. We found a really nice place with clean hospitable rooms with all modern amenities and amazing food. The locals here are extremely hospitable and provide excellent service catering to your every need.





After parking ourselves at one such comfortable place, we headed to the Janjeera fort away from Kashid. Murud-Janjeera is another popular tourist spot further ahead of Kashid. The beach of Murud is amazing too though a wee bit crowded. The main attraction here is the imposing fort of Janjeera which looms large right in the middle of the sea making it invincible. Many battles were fought here and I could well hear the roar of the sea and the thunder of cannons from the fort protecting it from enemies. This historic fort, the guide told us was 900 years old. Hats off to our ancestors who built this monument that still stands proud despite all the weathering inflicted by wind and water thus belittling modern day buildings that collapse with the slightest tremor.

The sea always instills in me a wonder, awe and a reverence to Him who has created it. The vast expanse of water never ceases to amaze me. The Sea seems to me, alive, humongous and sometimes terrifying even though the breeze by the sea brings a peace to me that can be sought no where else. The spirit of all those creatures within, I guess, imbibe their spirits in the sea which takes up the form of a benevolent benefactor being the source of all that we are today in the form of being a part of the water cycle, or casting its malevolence to strike in the form of typhoons, hurricanes, to remind the world, the earth with all its elements is not to be taken for granted.




Anyways, coming back to the trip, the next morning, we headed back home bidding farewell to the azure waters and the pearly sands. We stopped by the Birla temple that was on the way, We stopped after every few minutes to savour the scenery for the last time and capture more images for posterity of the earth that still is today, eat by a stream flowing by, visit the Birla temple enroute, buy the local honey at a farm, visit a village temple. Well, all good things finally end (otherwise they wouldn’t be good, isn’t it?). We braced ourselves once again to face the horns, the smoke, hordes of people, noise, and the hustle-bustle of what they call urban life.

Richa

Maid vs Malkin

There was a time when the Malkin dictated and the Maid obeyed. Times change, Now, the Bai dictates, and the Malkin pleads her to have mercy. I have had to change 3 bais in 3 months. A fat salary, no hassles (I do not have the time in the mornings to monitor her work you see)..Still they left me feeling helpless and frustrated. I am not tyrannical or anything you may think. They prefer living in poverty without food to getting up at 730 in the morning.

Let me compare the salary of a Bai and that of a well educated teacher. Their monthly salaries are Rs 1000 and Rs 5000 (yes, the teachers salaries are dismal).

The Bai first: They take atleast 6 holidays per month. Come late for 18 days. 3 days before the salary date and after, they are on time and do a decent job. So, am I paying them for just 6 days + 9 days (they do only half the work for 18) = 15 days. That is the full salary for half the work done. So, they get paid around a 800 Rs for 7.5 hrs (considering half an hrs work everyday). So they get Rs133.33/hr.

The Teacher: For 8 hrs of work everyday, for 6 days a week, they draw around Rs 5000 per month or even less. That is Rs 104.666/hr. That is after all the stress of teaching, commuting, understanding students, making them understand etc etc. Where are the human rights activists now?

If we all regular office goers are expected to be responsible and accountable to our employers, are not these maids, who expect only rights but no accountability?

Richa

Book Review--The 3 mistakes of my life by Chetan Bhagat

After reading the first two books of Chetan Bhagat, I picked this third with pretty low expectations. Wanting to be Indias most 'loved' writer rather than admired one, I reckon he writes about what Indians will want to read about, with all the masala possible..romance, action, dreams,....and of course Cricket

This book tells the tale of three friends caught in the tumult of business, love, friendship, natural calamities, politics, religion,dreams and what not. Govind with his two friends opens a novel cricket store that offers all cricketing solutions ranging from merchandise to cricket coaching iin their little sleepy town. The story moves on to tell the tale of their discovery of Ali, a cricket whiz kid and the turn of events due to him.

Chetan Bhagat rants about how passionate Australians are about sports but how few brownie points a billion plus country earns in the arena of sports. He also shows the Indians’ disapproval of kids who are spurned by parents if they do not get high marks in exams which are the only things that matter somehow. He touches upon the religious and the political issues rampant in Gujrat. The story was readable, the narrative good. Well, looks like there might be one more film coming along his way after one night @ a call center.

Book Review- A Prisoner of Birth by Jeffrey Archer

I expectantly bought this book after a long hiatus of not reading Jeffrey Archer. Well, it got off to a racy start, trundled in the middle, and raced to the finish. The pace of the book was excellently set against the fulgurant storyline.

The protagonist of the book Danny was wrongly indicted to 22 years of imprisonment at Belmarsh for the murder of his best friend and fiancées brother, Bernie. The murder was as a result of a brawl between Danny, Bernie and four drunken big-shots, one of whom took a fancy to Beth. The murderer and his chums craftily got away making Danny the scapegoat. Little did they know Danny would certainly seek his revenge.


I initially thought, the book would go the ‘Shawshank Redemption’ way; well, it went the Grisham way when Danny battled for his freedom at the courts. The twists were amazing though a bit impossible (can’t spill the beans, can I?). JA after his prison experience, I guess, has added those little details which have portrayed the prison life brilliantly.

Overall, I ld rate this book as really great entertainment; movie material I ld say!

Richa

Book Review-The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri

“What’s in a name?” It is precisely this issue, that this book by Jhumpa Lahiri, writer of the memorable 'Interpreter of maladies', sought to tackle in the “Namesake”. Gogol, the protagonist of the story, had been named so, as the grandmothers letter bearing his true name did not cross the oceans from Bengal to his place of birth, America. His tribulations with a name that didn’t inspire confidence in him, not knowing the significance of his name, all cascaded into waves of revolt against his name and made him change into another “Nikhil”. But..he still felt like Gogol.

The book also talks about the identity crisis that ABCDs are supposed to go through. Though Gogol and his sister Sonia were born of Indian Bengali parents, they completely felt American and had completely imbibed its values and social systems. There is no discombobulation in their minds; they are clear about the fact that America is their homeland, and not India which might be their parents’. The fact baffles the parents who feel torn apart as their minds live in one continent and bodies in another. The children on the other hand associate their whole and soul in the country they have always inhabited do not really understand the customs of their parents’ native country . Gogol in his search for an identity must have realised that there was more to it than just a name.

Richa

Shhhhhh....

Shhhhhh…

Mobile phone etiquettes are something that indeed need to be taught in India. Meetings, movies, shows are interrupted with a rude “Mauja hi Mauja” ring from a mobile phone. I guess this is much talked about in any case. What I am speaking about is the use of mobile phones for hollering in public places.

I was traveling from Calcutta to Mumbai in a Jet airways flight. While take off, as usual there were the repeated safety warnings of seatbelts, mobiles, no smoking etc. Despite everything, a sardarji was bellowing on his cellphone about his next meeting and his entire tour itinerary. Not one Indian raised his voice in protest at his blatant flouting of rules. One foreigner finally raised his voice. The sardar instead of being apologetic started abusing the guy who asked him to switch off his mobile. Look at the irony of the situation. On one hand we grumble about defaulting airlines, lack of procedure, babudom and what not. On the other hand, we, the so called educated and civilized people cannot handle miniscule inconveniences due to rules for our own safety and welfare.

A Mumbai-Pune travel had become torturous once, when there were people discussing their office deals loudly, a girl telling her friend about the entire history of her relationship with her boyfriend and her travails with him. Another woman was exchanging entire recipes for her darling 6 year old daughter who was studying in “abc school” and who loved putting on make up. Damn, who is interested in all their lives, when all you wanna do is put ur head down and sleep after a tiring day?

Another day at Café Coffee Day, where ppl come to chill and relax, there was this guy with two others. He was bellowing at the top of his voice on his phone for a good 20 mins.. “You baboon, how could you go ahead with this deal…blah blah blah…You lollypop, do u know the implications of this blah blah blah, you ass, you moron, blah blah blah…” In short, he managed to ruin the atmosphere of the entire café by making himself heard for a good 20 meters.

Why cannot Indians, just learn to be simply courteous? There are other people around too. In a public place, can’t they really keep their affairs to themselves? We do not want to know about their clients and their multi crore deals and their boyfriends. Will the world really tumble down if they switched off their mobiles during flights and if they didn’t blabber so loudly?

Richa

Book Review- Sea of Poppies

Writing a book that avid readers don’t forget is a sign of a prolific writer. When I read ‘The Glass Palace’ by Amitav Ghosh, I anointed his book into my gallery of unforgettables. Sea of Poppies though is immensely readable is not unforgettable. The theme is excellent, the narrative riveting, but the characters I felt lacked depth. Do read my previous blog too on what irked me the most--the parlance used. Amongst the characters, there is Zachary who rose rapidly in rank, Deeti whose life was completely influenced by poppies even though she didn’t partake any of its products, Neel, the erstwhile king and the only character I found a wee bit interesting-Paulette, the Frenchwoman, turned Bengali who flees from a desolate present, Jodu, Paulette’s foster brother.

The story starts of with the delineation of the individual lives of the characters, later, their fates get irrevocably intertwined as destiny brings them aboard the IBIS, the schooner that carries them over the black waters.

I however liked the part of the story in which Heeru gets married, the spirit of brotherhood that thrives during trying times, and the ‘girmitiyas’ attempt at making the best of their circumstances was touching.

Everyone ofcourse wants a complete story that either ends with the happily ever after or the tragic ending. This book being the first of a trilogy, obviously does not end…so despite all that I didn’t like about the book, I liked it enough to buy part 2 of it when its out!

Richa