Book Review: Aftertaste by Namita Devidayal

The Marwari’s business acumen is legendary and the Todarmal family epitomises the typical, rich Marwari business family where every member of the family plays a role in the family business, which is headed by a shrewd and smart patriarch. However, the Todarmal family is a little bit different in one respect – it is headed by a matriarch, the formidable Bimla Kulbhushan Todarmal, aka Mummyji, who, at a time when the family was in crisis, not only conceived from scratch the mithai business, but also grew it to its present (in 1984) size and strength. Namita Deviayal’s Aftertaste revolves around the last few days of Mummyji, which happen to coincide with the Diwali of 1984 and Indira Gandhi’s assassination, with a lots of flashbacks. Mummyji has held the family together after Daddyji’s demise. Her eldest son Rajan Papa is weak and vacillating. Second son Sunny has his mother’s business acumen, but lacks the necessary human element. Eldest daughter Suman is fair, pretty and vain and wants her mother’s jewels. Saroj, the second daughter has suffered the most and is the most likeable, but even Saroj wants her mother to die, so that she can inherit her wealth.

Deviayal writes well, exceedingly well and her lyrical prose brings to the fore the Todarmal family’s love for wealth and how everything they do centres around the quest for money. Mummyji loves her children and grandson Rahul to death, but she seems to love her business and money even more. Without belittling anyone, Devidayal holds a mirror to this excessive love for money and the havoc it can wreak on relationships. The treatment of Saroj’s husband by his own family when he refuses to collaborate in a fraud, is a case in point.

There was one big fly-in-the-ointment for me in this splendid novel. There are a couple of references to chicken curry being eaten by members of the Todarmal family and a solitary reference to a breakfast of eggs. Granted, we have been told the Todarmals had settled in Punjab many generations ago, had adopted local (Punjabi) language, customs etc. and once in a while a lad is addressed as ‘puttar’, I still found the chicken curry difficult to digest. One does find Marwaris settled all over India, but one doesn’t hear of Marwaris turning non-vegetarian and eating chicken at the family dining table. Most of the time, Devidayal talks of the Todarmal children and Mummyji’s late husband Daddyji eating mithai by the kilo, along with other traditional Marwari staples such as kachoris, pooris, aloo parathas and the like. The two references to chicken curry caught me unawares and spoilt the atmosphere for me. A financially well-off carnivore in India wouldn’t eat meat once in a blue-moon - it would be eaten almost on a daily basis. If the Todarmals are non-vegetarian Marwaris who regularly eat chicken curry at home, the rest of Devidayal’s description of their culinary habits becomes grossly inaccurate.

I ought to reiterate that despite this hole, the story does hold up very well and drops the reader bang in the middle of the Todarmal household listening spellbound to a riveting tale narrated wonderfully well. Devidayal packs in a lot of detail regarding the mithai business. We are told that when the Todarmals started to make and sell mithai, Mummyji has strategically arranged for supplies of milk and sugar and ghee. We are told of Mummyji’s brilliant ideas for making barfi with Maggie and Bournvita, sweets shaped to meet Independence day and Holi themes, sweets in the shape of corporate logos, Sunny’s coup in getting varak, the silver foil used to garnish the mithai, made by a machine rather than the then prevalent ‘non-vegetarian’ method. However, I found certain important bits missing. As the business grows, one isn’t given details of how new employees are hired and managed. Except for a few references to a jalebi maker by the name Pooran, one doesn’t get a clear picture of how many employees the Todarmals have. Most importantly, there isn’t a single mention of the kitchens where the mithai is made. Is it a big central kitchen or many kitchens spread all over Bombay? Maybe it is a good thing Devidayal doesn’t get into such detail to indulge nitpickers like me – it might have spoilt the story.

Devidayal does the needful to bring in the 1980s effect. There are obligatory references to Binaca Geetmala, Gold Spot, Ambassadors, Premier Padminis, the 1971 war over Bangladesh and occasional discussions regarding Indira Gandhi and the troubles in Punjab. These are well done, but I didn’t really feel I had been transported to the 1980s. When Devidayal ends her brilliant novel, new elements are introduced to the Todarmal family – Rajan Papa befriends a Hindu fanatic who runs a Dharma Biradari, a group of upper middle-class and rich folks who do social work and meet on Sunday mornings for Bhajans and Breakfast; Grandson Rahul is a closet homosexual, to whom Mummyji has willed Cozy villa on condition that his inheritance will be only after his marriage.

At the end of it all, Aftertaste is a brilliant critique of the Todarmal’s excessive love for wealth. We are told that as the Todarmals gathered for the Diwali puja, ‘the goddess stood mute, watching the family with her ancient, painted marble eyes. How badly misunderstood she was yet again. Like her pet owl which doesn’t see during the day, these people were blind. She was not the goddess of wealth, but of well-being. She was the other side of Narayan, the god of right thinking and right action, but they worshipped only her, desperate, ignorant. .......... And so, while the priest muttered incomprehensible mantras, yet another Diwali unfolded before the Todarmal family.’

An excellent read which I would happily recommend to all and sundry without any hesitation.

Book Review – “Scammed: Confessions of a Confused Accountant” by Anonymous

It’s always a pleasure to read a book written by an industry insider. Some months ago, I had read Puneet Gupta’s Suicide Banker which gave an intimate account of banking fraud. The main fly in the Suicide Banker’s ointment was that Gupta was not particularly savvy with his prose and I was left wondering when India would produce a Stephen Frey.

Now here comes a book written by an anonymous accountant, who will cease to be anonymous if you google the book’s title and/or read articles such as this one by The Hindu which is much better written than Gupta’s Suicide Banker. "Scammed: Confessions of a Confused Accountant" is a light read with a plot that manages to show the underbelly of India’s corporate world. Hitesh Shah, the protagonist, is a much bullied accountant who gets his big break when an impressed client offers him a CEO’s job. The new job is glamorous and pays big bucks though it carries with it a not-so-faint stink of tainted money and dirty politics. Like most other people in his position, Hitesh Shah leaps at the opportunity and as the CEO of Super Cabs, a private taxi company, is soon in the limelight. He is interviewed by TV channels and the pretty Sushma finds him attractive enough to date and live-in. The promoters of Super Cabs want aggressive growth and despite some misgivings, Hitesh largely obliges them.

Powerful people usually have powerful enemies and the political opponents of Super Cabs' promoters soon raise the temperature at Super Cabs. Not long after, there some trouble with labour unions and allegations of fraud start flying. Hitesh is left holding the can and is soon on the run. Sushma is no longer in the picture-she had ditched Hitesh some time ago, but the much more genuine Payal lends a helping hand, as do a few other genuine friends. How does it all end when Hitesh is not totally innocent since he did ignore the usual warning signs and had turned a blind eye to many questionable things? Surely this unusual book can’t have a totally happy ending? Do please read this book to find out for yourself – it’s a simple, light read, written in functional prose that would serve you well on a long train or plane journey.

Book Review: “The Average Indian Male” by Cyrus Broacha

Everyone has heard of Cyrus Broacha. Show me an adult living in any of the Indian metros who hasn’t heard of Broacha and I will show you someone who is deaf and blind. In addition to being a stand-up comedian and a prankster, Broacha is also an actor (TV and films) and a writer. Over 2 years ago, Broacha’s first book Karl, Aaj aur Kal, a semi-autobiographical tongue-in-cheek, witty write-up about cabbages and kings, Bollywood and men in power, was released. Last year Broacha’s second book The Average Indian Male came out and it’s been on my reading list ever since.

The Average Indian Male has satire and it’s typical Broacha satire, poking fun at all and sundry, pointing out faults in a manner that has you in splits. However, it would be incorrect if I said The Average Indian Male has only satire and nothing but satire. For when Broacha pokes fun at the average Indian male, he does have an unerring aim, managing to hit all the right spots. It’s all in there – the Indian male’s propensity to hold hands (with other Indian males), to pick his nose (in the presence of other Indian males and females), to fart (also in the presence of a number of people) to stare, to pee in the open, to demand that his wife perform/provide/protect just like his mummy and to do a number of other routine things.

In addition to holding up a mirror to the average Indian male, Broacha also gently shines a light on Indian society as a whole. For example Broacha says, ‘Know your place’ is like a game – when any Indian meets a fellow Indian, we immediately decide to adopt an inferior or superior stance. A fellow Indian is either below you or above you in the social scale, never equal. Let’s look at this chart/ Father/mother, above you. Children, below you. Mr. Sharma, your neighbour, who is older, above you. Mrs. Sharma who is younger, below you.

A pigeon, below you. A cow, above you. A God you’ve heard of, definitely above you. A God you haven’t heard of, still above you. A normal building, below you. A religious structure, above you. The sun, moon and stars above you. People in a village in the Sunderbans, below you. ....... Your driver, below you. A famous driver like Lewis Hamilton, above you........’

A small number of the wise-cracks do fall flat, but that’s likely to vary from reader to reader. All in all, this a very good book, worth every paise one pays for it.

Getting Off A Virar Fast At Borivali – Launch of Urban Shots Crossroads Anthology

In May 2011, I had submitted a short story called “Getting Off A Virar Fast At Borivali” to the Urban Stories Competition 11 jointly run by Landmark and Grey Oak. My story was shortlisted and has now been published in an anthology called “Urban Shots Crossroads”. Urban Shots Crossroads has 30 short stories in all and has been edited by Ahmed Faiyaz, author of books such as Love, Life & All That Jazz, Another Chance – Miles Apart and Scammed - Confessions of a Confused Accountant.

The Urban Shots Crossroads anthology is now available for pre-order on Flipkart.

Urban Shots Crossroads is to be launched in Mumbai, Pune and Bangalore on the following dates:

19 Jan 2012 - 7 pm, Landmark, Infiniti Mall, Andheri, Mumbai

20 Jan 2012 - 7 pm, Landmark, Phoenix Marketcity, Pune

21 Jan 2012 - 5 pm, Reliance Time Out, Cuningham Road, Bangalore

There will also be events in February in Delhi and Chennai (between 8 and 14 Feb 2012).

All are welcome to attend these events, which I am told will be graced by well-known authors and Bollywood celebrities.

Book Review: “Seal Target Geronimo – The Inside Story Of The Mission To Kill Osama Bin Laden” by Chuck Pfarrer

I bought this book with great expectations, hoping to read a blow-by-blow account by Chuck Pfarrer, a former SEAL, of the operation by US Navy SEALS that led to the killing Osama bin Laden. Pfarrer does provide a detailed description of the planning and execution of the raid into Abbottabad. Nevertheless I was disappointed because I am not sure how much of this book is true and can be believed.

That’s right. I am not sure I can believe Pfarrer’s account and here’s why:

In addition to providing a detailed description of Operation Neptune Spear (originally called Operation Geronimo) which led to the death of Osama bin Laden, Pfarrer has provided a lot of background information about the growth Islamic fundamentalism and Muslim/Arab grievances in general and the Afghan insurgency in particular. Pfarrer starts with the creation of Israel and the Israel-Palestinian conflicts, goes on to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, the contributions to the cause of the Mujahiddin by Arabs like bin Laden who were influenced by the Palestinian dispute and the insurgencies in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Pfarrer’s description of the Israel-Palestinian conflict is remarkably fair. There are as many mentions of terrorist activities by the Irgun as there are of PLO-led terrorism. Pfarrer doesn’t shy away from stating that Israeli soldiers stood by and watched as Phalangist Christian militias carried out the massacres at Sabra and Shatila. Pfarrer actually says that Israeli soldiers fired flares to help the militias carry out their dirty work, but I am not sure if that’s factually true. Pfarrer also says that ‘It is one of the ironies of history that the most emblematic weapon of Islamic terrorism, the truck bomb, was invented not by a Muslim fundamentalist, but by a radical Jew. Menachem Begin, the son of a Russian timber merchant, came to......’ I didn’t know that the truck bomb was emblematic of Islamic terrorism. As far as I know, truck bombs have been used by the LTTE in Sri Lanka, the Oklahoma bomber Timothy McVeigh and the IRA. What gives Pfarrer the right to say that truck bombs are emblematic of Islamic terrorism? Statements such as these are only a foretaste of what’s to come.

According to Pfarrer (try not to laugh as you read this), Saddam Hussein did have weapons of mass destruction. After the US and its allies invaded Iraq, large quantities of WMD were handed over by Iraqi forces to Osama bin Laden’s Al Qaeda. This may make you wonder why there have been no attacks on coalition troops with chemical weapons. But there have been a number of such attacks, all of which failed due to a combination of the lack of skilled personnel at Al Qaeda Inc, bad luck (Al Qaeda’s) and the courage of US troops. On a number of occasions, Army’s Tech Escort Battalions whose personnel are skilled at handing nuclear and chemical disasters had to be called in to deal with chemical weapons planted by the Al Qaeda in Iraq. And why didn’t any of the newspapers or news channels report all this in detail? Because they had originally claimed that Saddam did not have WMD and hence have a vested interest in maintaining that fiction.

How did the US detect bin Laden’s location? Because bin Laben’s number two, Ayman Zawahiri betrayed bin Laden by using a courier whose cover had been blown to carry messages to bin Laden. According to Pfarrer, Zawahiri had been trying to get Osama bin Laden killed ever since the day they were fighting Soviet forces in Afghanistan. It was Zawahiri who betrayed Khalid Sheikh Mohammed who was the main brain behind the 9/11 attacks. Why did Zawahiri do so? Because he was jealous of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed who was sociable and clever and was favoured by bin Laden.

The fictions go on and on and since Pfarrer seems to make up a lot of stuff, I am not sure how much of his detailing of Operation Neptune Spear can be believed.

In addition to the various fictions inserted in this book, there is a fair amount of melodrama. When Pfarrer describes how a predator drone targeted and killed Zarqawi (whose killing had nothing to do with Osama bin Laden’s), he says: ‘Six miles above the date grove, unseen and unheard, a Predator drone, call sign Reaper Three Zero, banked at the edge of the stratosphere. It’s sensors rolled over the city below. Streetlights, car headlights, the lights of houses spread in a rolling blanket, like a mosaic of stars. The lights marked progress and peace, businesses and places where families lived. In the dark places there was poverty, frustration and anger. The dark places were where men like Zarqawi preached hatred and planned murder.’

Sometimes, certain incidents are mentioned twice, which can be irritating. For example, we are told that ‘there was almost always a pinch of Copenhagen snuff tucked into (Red Squadron’s leader) Frank Leslie’s lower lip’ We are told about the Copenhagen snuff in two different places. Ayman Zawahiri’s killing is described twice, once in melodramatic detail and later in a matter-of-fact manner.

Pfarrer does not provide any authority or reference or bibliography for his sources of information.

Pfarrer’s description of how the US Navy trains its SEALs is very good and I assume it is an accurate description, since Pfarrer is an ex-SEAL. Also, I assume that at least some of the details of Operation Neptune Spear must be true, though one turns sceptical when one reads that the US didn’t use its most stealthy stealth helicopter for this operation since it feared it might fall into Pakistani hands.

Oh and by the way, according to Pfarrer, the bomb which killed Zia-ul-Haq was planted by the KGB in retaliation for Pakistan’s support for the Mujahiddin.