The Readings

It was a great morning, warm as usual, but with some assurances from friends that taking the KKVE to Bangsar should be okay. I did turn out to be okay.

Meeting Sharon after a long gap was nice, and meeting Chet – who is as friendly and cuddly as the pandas she loves – was great too. Was impressed with her Neo and called to buy one for myself. If you want to know more about NEO and his other sister the erstwhile DANA go here.

Went to the Breakfast at MPH. It has been a long time since I attended a literary gathering of any sort and it was good. Sharon has blogged about it I need not go into the details.

Met Raman after a while too, wished I had more to have long leisurely chat with him.

Got to meet Shahril Nizam, have so enjoyed is art. Later someone told me Amir Muhammad was there too. Would have liked to shake his hand, liked his book too.

Would like to get hold of Shamala’s writing, sounded very interesting.

Here is to hoping I can make a return.

Eli, Eli

Bangladeshi cyclone-affected man Khalilur Rahman, who lost 11 members of his family including his wife and his other children, cries holding his only survived daughter while waiting to get relief goods in Fokirghat, on the southern coastal area of Bangladesh, 20 November 2007. Urgently-needed supplies of food, water and medicine were nearing people in remote areas of Bangladesh where a devastating cyclone has left millions homeless and thousands dead. With roads now cleared of hundreds of trees that had blocked aid convoys, officials said relief was finally starting to get through to the most inaccessible areas four days after the colossal storm hit. By Farjana Khan Goghuly/AFP/Getty Images. (from: http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/ )

Tell me why any debate on hardcovers and trade paperbacks is important? Tell me why sending sending millions of ringgit into orbit a matter of pride? Tell me why bringing democracy to the middle east such a priority? Tell me why civilization is at its zenith?

No, tell me, really! I looked at this picture and forgot most of the answers.

Thumb Rules For Writers

William Safire's columns on Language have always been fun to read, his political columns though have often left me gritting my teeth. (Thank god, then, that he stopped them.)

Here is a piece that I collected from somewhere:

Thumb Rules For Writers

William Safire's rules for writers

Remember to never split an infinitive.

The passive voice should never be used.

Do not put statements in the negative form.

Verbs has to agree with their subjects.

Proofread carefully to see if you words out.

If you reread your work, you can find on rereading a great deal of repetition can be avoided by rereading and editing.

A writer must not shift your point of view.

And don't start a sentence with a conjunction. (Remember, too, a preposition is a terrible word to end a sentence with.) Don't overuse exclamation marks!!

Place pronouns as close as possible, especially in long sentences, as of 10 or more words, to their antecedents. Writing carefully, dangling participles must be avoided.

If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is.

Take the bull by the hand and avoid mixing metaphors.

Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky.

Everyone should be careful to use a singular pronoun with singular nouns in their writing.

Always pick on the correct idiom.

The adverb always follows the verb.

Last but not least, avoid cliches like the plague; seek viable alternatives.

The Last Nizam

The Last Nizam
by John Zubrzycki

“After kissing the Threshold of Your Throne, it is humbly submitted to the Great and Holy Protector of the World, Shadow of God, Mighty Holder of Destinies, Full of Light and Most Elevated among Creatures, the Exalted, May God’s Shadow Never Grow Less, may God Protect Your Kingdom and Your Sultanate, Most humbly I beg to submit….”

That was the way you asked the Nizam of Hyderabad, if you were a noble, to leave Hyderabad to go to Poona to the races.

You bent low, like you were in Ruku for salat – you hand touched your forehead and falling to the ground, seven times – in the presence of His Excellent Highness, The Nizam of Hyderabad. John Zubrzycki saya a dozen time but that is not true. The Mughal Emperor got a niner, the Nizam, always in allegiance to the Mughal Emperor (and later to British) got a sevener. I was there, I did it as a toddler with my uncle, before a scruffy looking man who looked poorer than our gardener and handy job man, Chunnu Mamoo.

John Zubrzycki’s book “The Last Nizam” it a delicious slice of history, for those interested in that part of the world, for those interested in the intricacies of the Rise and Fall of dynasties.

At one time considered the richest man in the world, with no real count ever made of his wealth. Olympic sized swimming pool could be filled with his diamonds, the whole of Broadway could be paved with his pearls, his gold was not counted in ounces but tons.

And Mukarram Jah, the heir to the wealth (and the Last Nizam), the heir to the Caliphate spent it, lost it in one lifetime declared himself bankrupt.

I have always been interested in history, especially that of the Deccan Plataeu, so I found it immensely readable. John Zubrzycki is no William Dalrymple but the book, mostly, is a good read.

It is a study in how power and wealth is aqcuired, maintained and lost. An old Sanskrit saying comes to mind:

San Sapoot Toh Dhan Kyon Sanchay

San Kapoot Toh Dhan Kyon Sanchay

Shorter Novels

I have increasingly become a fan of shorter novels. I have not read On Chesil Beach, Bibliobibuli recommends it and I must get it soon. I enjoyed God of Small Things very much, and it was a relatively short novel, so was Incident of Dog at the Night Time, enjoyable that.

Life of Pi was not that long either, I was enthralled by it. I picked up the House of Blue Mangoes three times before I could finish it.

Exceptions were there, I re read Atlas Shrugged recently, in small tiny print of the paperback version and still could go through it with ease. Considering that I could thread a needle with ease at the time when I first read it and now not as much. But even the small print did not deter me from reading Ayn Rand.

There have been of course, even more exceptions, where the novel just captures your imaginations and the shortness of time just doesn’t seem to matter. That is happening with Divisadero now.

Fictional Characters

When you sit down to think about it – other characters appear in the horizon of memories, fictional characters that made a huge difference at the time. Some that left indelible imprint on you and changed you in a small – maybe imperceptible – way.

Howard Roarke, from Fountainhead: I remember being spell bound by that book, my first taste of Ayn Rand till later I went searching for her Atlas Shrugged.

Or Mr Chips. The lovable old man from Good Bye Mr Chips.

Fictional Characters

If there was no God, it would be necessary to invent one.

For someone who writes fiction, or wants to, inventing characters is necessary, characters that last in the readers’ minds, weeks, months and years after they have read them.

Which true blooded reader can ever forget “Call me Ishmael…” or Raskalnikov? Or how truly embedded are characters like Scarlet O’Hara, Beck and Saleem Senai are in our psyche?

Have you not, if you are over forty, at least, chuckled even once at the pompous Mr Pickwick’s eccentricities?

I had a bunch of school girls come in the other day for a one day workshop in ceramics. Nothing worthwhile can be achieved in a day but the idea was to introduce them to clay and its beauty. So once they had created a couple of pinched and coiled pots I began what my wife calls Shakespearizing.

They are form five girls and I expected them to be well – lets just say – a little read.

“Give each of them pots, girls, a name from a fictional character.” From English books, added.

I certainly did not expect Saleem Senai or Leopold Bloom from them, much less Raskalnikov or Lenny. I expected, with a hopeful heart to hear a Jane Eyre, a Phillip Phirip a David Copperfield. I held my breath as I scanned the faces, would someone surprise me with a Shylock, a Desdemona? I perhaps hoped that some one would turn the tables on me and say: George Wingrave, the funny idiot from Jerome K Jerome’s Three Men in a Boat.

I did get reluctant answers: Two fought over who could get the rights to Harry Potter. Others settled on Snow White, Cinderella and Minnie Mouse. My heart perhaps would have found solace if someone had chosen Happy, Dopey, Bashful, Grumpy or any other name of the dwarfs. These were budding youth and all I got was infantile characters from them.

I should have gone for movies perhaps and asked for characters from the celluloid. I would not have hoped for, even there, a Hannibal Lecter, Vito Corleone or even a measly Morpheus. I wonder if I could have elicited a heartwarming answer.

We need to make our kids read more, dammit.

Here is one for those that drop by here from time to time. Tell us about the fictional character that stayed with you for the longest time.

As for me, it was Nora Helmer from A Doll’s House. Though many others have jostled for space from time to time.