Siddhartha Golu

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review. Blemishing the Odds is the story of Raghav, a boy in his teenage years working his way through the tumultuous life of a typical teenager. Every one of us has gone through these things at some point in our lives - the ups and downs of high school years, those silly dramas with your friends, the first crush which you presume to be “love” in your naivety, the endless teasings and much more.

This book is intended to be a light read, and so you have to treat it like that. Please don't expect to gain any “literary merit,” and ignore the few grammatical mistakes spread here and there. Also, I was occasionally put off by the writing style of conveying certain emotional situations in a matter-of-fact way, but considering it's the debut work by the author; you can overlook these shortcomings and just enjoy the story. It's a commendable effort by the young author, and I wish him all the success in the world!

The book essentially revolves around the Dam Project and as Mr. Shibu has an extensive background in hydroelectric projects, he was able to give us a concrete description of everything technical - and that's where, I think, he went wrong. The disconnected storylines had little to offer in terms of their stories - even though we were supplied with a lot of information. I couldn't connect with any of the characters, though I enjoyed their back-stories. Also, the declining level of grammar was the most irritating part and the book wanted a strong editing. It would've been so much better had the author concentrated on developing the characters and their stories instead of focusing on explaining the nitty-gritty technical details.

Nevertheless, this was a debut work of the author and I congratulate him on this achievement. Kudos for his commendable efforts!

Disclaimer: I was given a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

More than 1100 pages, this behemoth of a book still fails to capture the whole essence of world history - and rightly so, how can you combine over 2000 years of human history and still do justice to every element? But the unique manner in which this book - or more appropriately, collection of letters - has been written, it shines brightly amongst the plethora of history books you can find on this vast subject of world history.

Lately and unfortunately, people in my country have been going down a dangerous political hole and it is almost becoming a fashion statement now to indulge in tales of “revisionist history”, especially when it's related to foundations of India and the exact roles played by political parties of the time. It's shameful to hear people bashing Nehru for whatever “wrongs” he committed, while at the same time, being ignorant about his accomplishments and the monumentally difficult task he faced of leading and building India during its first few years of Independence.

The personal nature of the letters and the choice of the subject notwithstanding - or more accurately, I should say BECAUSE of these characteristics - this book is also a revealing window to the character and intelligence of our first Prime Minister.

This one would surely go onto my favorites' stand :)

Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.

I have no affinity for running, even for short jogs, and much less for wanting to run long distances. Although this is not because I hate exercises - one of those rare things that I figured out early in life was my desire to remain healthy as long as possible and that of course means I need to keep myself fit - but probably my distaste for running stems from the monotonous nature of the activity. You keep pounding your legs with a short breath and no rest in sight, what is there to enjoy and look forward to?

My girlfriend on the other hand, loves running.

Intrigued by her passion, I began to take a more compassionate look on the whole idea of running, shunning my former dismissive attitude. What is it that motivates people to run marathons, putting their body through excruciating pain for an uncertain reward? It cannot be as simple as just the competitive spirit. In fact, running is exactly opposite of a team sport, it's as solitary an activity as thinking and dreaming. Can it be that the monotonicity itself is part of the charm?

In this book, Murakami tries to give an answer to this. Or more accurately, he dissects his own emotions and gives insights on how (long distance) running has been crucial to his writing. Both involve perseverance and intense emotional turmoil. While talking about the different ways in which artists produce creative works, he humbly says:

Writers who are blessed with in-born talent can freely write novels no matter what they do, or don't do. Like water from a natural spring, the sentences just well up and with little or no effort, these writers can complete a work. Occasionally, you'll find someone like that, but unfortunately that category wouldn't include me. I haven't spotted any springs nearby. I have to pound the rock with a chisel and dig out a deep hole before I can locate the source of creativity. To write a novel, I have to drive myself hard physically and use a lot of time and effort. Every time I begin a new novel, I have to dredge out another new, deep hole.

I think certain types of processes don't allow for any variation. If you have to be part of that process, all you can do is transform, or perhaps distort, yourself through that persistence repetition and make that process a part of your own personality.

Once when I was around sixteen and nobody else was home, I stripped naked, stood in front of a large mirror in our house, and checked out my body from top to bottom. As I did this, I made a mental list of all the deficiencies - or what, to me at least, appeared to be deficiencies. For instance (and these are just instances), my eyebrows were too thick, or my fingernails were shaped funny - that sort of thing. As I recall, when I got to twenty-seven items, I got sick of it and gave
up. And this is what I thought: If there are this many visible parts of my body that are worse than normal people's, then if I start considering other aspects - personality, brains, athleticism, things of this sort - the list will be endless.

As you get older though, through trial and error you learn to get what you need, and throw out what should be discarded. And you start to recognize (or be resigned to the fact) that since your faults and deficiencies are well nigh infinite, you'd best figure out your good points and learn to get by with what you have.

I find India really fascinating sometimes, even though I've lived my whole life here. What the cultural multitudes and colorful festivals hide underneath is an ugly facade which threatens to break everything that has been built over the years. What I find most fascinating is how we've conditioned ourselves to ignore the blatant reality and move ahead with an oblivious calm, living in shit and aspiring for the gold.

Caste and religion are two of the most contentious topics out there, so much ingrained in our day to day life that one cannot even comprehend that any alternatives exist. Ambedkar had tried to show an alternative way out, and it only speaks of the deep-rootedness of the system when all we remember Dr. Ambedkar for is writing the Constitution (albiet not a small feat by any stretch), while all his life he had worked to shake the society off from the chains of caste.

This annotated edition is the perfect way to educate oneself about the almost forgotten history of a radical man who dared to question the status quo and to demand justice, fighting not against a foreign invader but with his fellow countrymen, and who has been sidelined from every history book that is taught in the country.

Caste is part and parcel of a Hindu life. I did not realize or experience this until I entered college. Although it remains rather concealed amongst students, it reared its ugly head whenever the matter of reservation (Affirmative action in west) was discussed. Arundhati Roy put this brilliantly in her forward:

> ‘Merit' is the weapon of choice for an Indian elite that has dominated a system by allegedly divine authorisation, and denied knowledge—of certain kinds—to the subordinated castes for thousands of years. Now that it is being challenged, there have been passionate privileged-caste protests against the policy of reservation in government jobs and student quotas in universities. The presumption is that ‘merit' exists in an ahistorical social vacuum and that the advantages that come from privileged-caste social networking and the establishment's entrenched hostility towards the subordinated castes are not factors that deserve consideration. In truth, ‘merit' has become a euphemism for nepotism.

Even now when I no longer believe in religion (Hinduism was never my religion, it was my parents' religion which I inherited, much like everyone else), I still get asked for my “last name” as a proxy for my caste. It is so seeped into our consciousness that we can't help but feel a reverence whenever we come across someone from a “higher caste”, or to feel discomfort when we meet someone from a “lower caste”. This prejudice even trumps religious beliefs in India - even though their
scriptures don't sanction it, the elite Muslims, Sikhs and Christians all practice caste discrimination.

The arguments put forward by Ambedkar for breaking up the entire caste system is a brilliant demonstration of the crystal-clear thinking of a man who left such a huge legacy on the Indian subcontinent and made sure that the future of India is steered in the right direction. He is criticized for asking for a radical transformation of society when India needed to unite everyone to win its freedom. What these criticisms seem to miss is that every radical man/woman is considered
radical precisely because i) they go against the cultural norms and ii) they question the deep-rooted prejudiced beliefs. There will never come an “appropriate” time for reforms, as is sadly evident with the still prevalent caste discrimination almost 90 years after Ambedkar decided to storm the gates.

It's a travesty that he still remains, for the large part, forgotten.

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This is also available on my website here.

I was in a state of frenzy and anxiety, unable to decide on how to get started on numerous projects that were pending for a while. So naturally, I decided to procrastinate more and picked up the first book from my bedside table, thinking to calm my mind for a few minutes. Those few minutes turned into 3 hours as I sat obsessively with this book, forgetting to eat, drink or do anything else. The brilliant prose and the ironic humor in the face of absurdities reminded me of Kurt Vonnegut. What makes this graphic novel stand out among others is the unabashedly self-critical and honest voice of Marjane Satrapi. Loved this book to the core!I'd recommend [b:Hyperbole and a Half 17571564 Hyperbole and a Half Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened Allie Brosh https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1409522492l/17571564.SY75.jpg 24510592] if you're interested in reading something similar.

I'm unable to give a rating to this book - partly because I find myself unable to judge a work of philosophy which is unanimously considered to be brilliant, and partly because there were a lot of things that went way over my head. Especially in the middle of the book where Camus goes heavy handed into explaining what the Absurd is and his critics of the contemporary philosophers. I was unable to follow because it requires at least a general understanding of the works of people that he criticises.
This will require at least one, and possibly multiple, re-reads for me to finally be able to say that yes, I read The Myth of Sisyphus and I “understood” it. Until then, this essay will remain an enigma to me.

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good”.

A beautiful and at times heartbreaking story of good and evil and the shades in between, and how our choices ultimately make us who we are. I was getting tired of seeing posts of “Wow, I read East of Eden and was blown away!” on reddit and finally decided to take the plunge and dive headlong into the saga, and I'm a little ashamed to admit that I belong to the same category. This was a beautiful book and I don't want to read anything by Steinbeck for a long time - because I want to savor this age-old ripe wine and shine in the afterglow.

I love to fall asleep while reading a book, but this might be one of those rare books that made me apprehensive about the ordeal while at the same time getting me excited for what comes next (the other one would be “House of Leaves”). I used to dread reading it at night because I knew somewhere down the line, there would be a chapter on Cathy, and I would get nightmares of her evil doings after that. It sounds silly when I say it out loud, but in my eyes, that speaks for the brilliance of this book. The length of the book allows it to explore each and every character to its core and oftentimes lead to conversations that would make me close my kindle and just think about what I had just read. The most illuminating pick of all those interesting conversations would be the one where the father-figure-cum-servant of the house discusses “Timshel” with one of the characters.

“Thou mayest”

I think if I ever get a tattoo (which might not be too distant a future), Timshel would surely feature prominently on my skin.

This is the kind of book that stays with you. A coming-of-age story of a boy, who is as confused with his emotions as he is conflicted in the matters of heart. Despite essentially revolving around a love story, the book throws some light behind the disturbing and complex cases of deaths & suicides while forcing you to think about living in the present and enjoying life to the fullest.

This was the first Murakami for me, and I'll surely be reading more of his books. Although originally being in Japanese, the translated version doesn't feel translated at all, despite some hiccups here and there. All the characters are solid as well as interesting and the prose is beautiful. Some of the lines manage to bring a sigh from the hopeless romantic in me!

I'll leave you with an excerpt:

“I have always loved [person A], and I still love her. But there is a decisive finality to what exists between [person B] and me. It has an irresistible power that is bound to sweep me into the future. What I feel for [person A] is a tremendously quiet and gentle and transparent love, but what I feel for [person B] is a wholly different emotion. It stands and walks on its own, living and breathing and throbbing and shaking me to the roots of my being. I don't know what to do. I'm confused. I have never lied to anyone, and I have taken care over the years not to hurt other people. And yet I find myself tossed into this labyrinth. How can this be?”

A fine book which dives deep into the prevalent social attitude of creating gender differences and how difficult it becomes to disassociate oneself from the gendered identity. The more I think about gender, more and more I become entangled into this weird loop of seeing every social thing in a different light.

Those seemingly-innocent “bro” comments between male friends, saying that the new hire in the team is a “diverse candidate”, claiming “they don't have the balls to do it” as if two-round-eggs-in-a-sac somehow magically makes you superior to everyone else - all of these reinforce the gender stereotypes. Cordelia discusses at length about all the subtle cues that we don't even notice but which has a pretty significant impact on how we treat others. It's amazing how difficult it has become in today's world to not discriminate sexually, more so especially for a parent to bring up their children in a gender-neutral way.

It's all about the mindset, but this benign word is the most difficult to change. I'm not claiming myself to be immune either. I can't count how many times I've said something really stupid when discussing something with my girlfriend, and it's only when she objects on my choice of words that I pause and reflect on how wrong it was. Reading this book was one baby step towards consciously trying to change that status quo, and I'd recommend doing this to everyone else as well.

Continuing on my journey of the classics, I picked up this book with a lot of expectations - and that's where I went wrong. Maybe if I had read the tagline “for teenage readers”, the outcome would've been different.
This story is from the perspective of a teenage boy going through his high school year & revolves around his general distaste of people, alienation and angst toward humanity in general. We all have gone through this phase at some point in our life and that's why I could somewhat relate to his ramblings. Without spoiling much, I would say this is a good (and light) read, but probably not a book amongst “the great literary classics”.

What an emotional roller-coaster ride! The story revolves around the bloody week of partitioning into India and Pakistan and how barbaric mutilations were the norm during that time. Khushwant Singh brilliantly uses hypocrisy and morality to show how fickle the human mind is and how easily it can be persuaded into different directions. Though the book lacks coherence in certain segments, it builds up to a crescendo as the story unfolds - the last few pages, especially the last segment is tragically beautiful. A must-read for sure!!

I've always had a weird fascination with David Foster Wallace since the moment I first listened to “This is Water”. The way he so astutely and brilliantly confronts the everyday banalities and does it in such a hilarious fashion that you sometimes don't know whether he's acting funny or simply telling the truth. This collection of essays would be a good introduction to his works, albeit you can skip some parts.

Reading alongside the popular Harvard course taught by the author (Here's the link if anyone wants to check it out - https://www.edx.org/course/justice-2), this was an extraordinary experience. Maybe my thoughts about this book got clouded by the thought-provoking lectures that accompany them, but that in no way takes away the credit of this book being an excellent introduction to political and moral philosophy.

Normally, I dislike the case-based approach of tackling a subject (I'm looking at you, Cal Newport), but it was the most suitable method of discussing disparate notions of moral philosophy. Prof. Sandel expertly intertwines the hard and difficult questions of the day - be it affirmative action, same-sex marriages or debates about rights - with the theories of political philosophers who attempt to answer them. I particularly loved this notion, which is present in all the debates throughout the course, that there's no such one perfect answer for these problems. You can't just say that one side is completely wrong and other is completely right. There's no black and white. Each side has merits and demerits and the real struggle exists in how to combine them together for an appropriate solution.

Apart from reading this book, I would highly recommend taking the course as well. You won't get solutions to all the mentioned problems, but you would come out with a greater understanding of problems themselves and how to tackle them.

One of the principal joys of reading is to discover the magic hidden in the seemingly banal things in life. I would've never cared to think twice about the intricacies of designing buildings and urban spaces, had it not been for this book. This serves as a gentle introduction to the fascinating study of how subtle differences in design of public spaces affect interactions on a much more broader scale.

Nothing extra-ordinary in terms of content, but special when you think of the book as a compilation of useful frameworks to think about time.

Alas, I stumbled upon Four Thousand Weeks at such a point in my life where I've already been a productivity addict for so long that it's impossible for me to make a fresh start. The central theme of the book - that you won't ever get to do all the things you've set out to do so you should consciously choose and be happy about your choice - is such an aphoristic statement that no matter how you spin it, it always feels bland.

Having said that, the self-help ocean that this book is a part of, is filled with heaps of garbage books, so stumbling upon this one is like finding a needle in a haystack. Few ways of thinking about time and choices that I found interesting:

Don't think of these things as life hacks - don't treat life as a faulty contraption in need of modification.

A spin on FOMO (Fear of Missing Out): missing out is what makes our choices meaningful in the first place, every decision to use a portion of a time on anything represents saying no to every other thing that you could've done but you didn't.

The anti-skill of staying with the anxiety of never having time to do everything.

Picking one item from the menu represents an affirmation rather than a defeat. The fact that you could've chosen a different and perhaps equally valuable way to spend this afternoon bestows meaning on the choice you did make.

A hobbyist is a subversive: they insist that some things are worth doing for themselves alone, despite offering no payoffs in terms of productivity or profit.