Category: Uncategorized

Posted on

Review: Such A Fun Age

Rating: 2.5 Stars

Never have I been so clueless about what to write in a book review, as I am right now. After hearing so much about how relevant and timely Such A Fun Age by Kiley Reid is, I was looking froward to read something about racism and discrimination from the perspective of a black woman. I was ready to delve deep into how a black woman feels, and how the behaviours of people around her influence her. What I got was a confused story about black people and white people, with unexpected racist as well as classist undertones.

When I say racist undertones, I mean that Such A Fun Age is blatant about racism against black people, but the way the other characters have been written, the writer comes across as someone who discriminates against white people! There is so much juvenile posturing that you become confused about the age of the characters.

First, the writer tries to assure us that there is nothing wrong with Emira being aimless and without a regular job even at the age of 26, and then herself goes on to judge her for being that way. Similarly, the character of Alix is written with so much loathing that you can’t help but feel that the writer hates her. Kelley could have been a normal man who is friends with people regardless of their skin colour, but no, he too had to become this strange fetishist by the end of the book! In some places, the language used is almost like a white woman is trying to write what a black woman might say!

Then there is the classist tone of the whole book. All thirty-something married women with children who live in New York are conviniently portrayed as a “type”; Alix and her friends had so much potential, yet they are all painted with the broad brushstrokes of vain New York women, even when there is a token black woman among them. This woman, Tamra, is there to sprout some wisdoms that are actually disparaging to all black people! Her only purpose seems to be to justify Kelley as being a fetishist or some weird jerk like that.

Kelley’s character, again, is what a twenty-something would believe a thirthy-something to be. He behaves in a certain way and suddenly his behaviour becomes suspect because he apparently doesn’t have enough weaknesses in his character ( I really want to roll my eyes here!)

Alix is downright evil and a stalker to boot, who happens to have a successful career that she must have gotten by luck only, and she is a terrible mother, because she can hire people to look after her kid. (Another eye roll here!) She goes through her sitter’s phone and fantasizes about having an unreal relationship with her, which sort of takes the book into psychological thriller category, except that there is nothing thrilling about this book.

Emira, is the biggest problem of them all. I assume the writer wanted to convey that it’s okay to not know your path in life, and to be unambitious, but what comes across is a weak character, who is easily swayed by her friends, and who in turn has an unhealthy obsession with the child she babysits!

I fail to understand how such a problematic book like Such A Fun Age is garnering all this praise. It is a waste of time and energy, and imparts nothing of value.

Posted on

Review: The Girl From Widow Hills

Rating: 3 Stars

The Girl From Widow Hills is a spine tingling, dark thriller from Megan Miranda about a girl who survived. Twenty years ago, six year old Arden Olivia (Liv) Maynor became a household name. One night, she sleepwalked into a rainstorm, and got swept away into a storm drain. They found her after 3 days, hurt but still alive. It was hailed as a miracle, and a triumph for the community spirit of Widow Hills, and eventually the rest of the country.

Now known as Olivia Meyer, living in Central Valley, Liv thinks that she has left it all behind. She has no recollection of the her time in the sewer system. All her memories are based on news stories and the book written by her mother. As the twentieth anniversary of her rescue approaches, Liv receives news of her mother’s death, and has a sleepwalking episode again. As if this isn’t enough to make her unbalanced, she stumbles upon a dead body at her neighbor’s property. It turns out to be someone she knows from her past.

From there on, things seem to get out of control. Now, she is a person of interest in a murder case, her friends are acting strange around her, and her new life is unravelling in front of her eyes. On top of all this, she is not sure if she is innocent or not. The past she is running away from has caught up to her and she can’t do anything to stop it.

The story is unpredictable and dark. Everyone is a suspect, even Liv, because we don’t know what secrets remain hidden in her sub-conscience. There are all the classic suspects; the elderly neighbour with many firearms, the older ex-boyfriend, the quiet best friend, and the vivacious new friend. Even Liv is not sure about who to trust and who to stay away from.

The thing I liked about this book was that there was no romantic angle. There was no man waiting for Liv at the end of it all. It is the story of a girl, and it remains the story of a girl. A girl who is strong enough on her own, and there is no need for a romance on the side.

The most thought provoking point in this book is how we think of incidents as stories. Something that is terrible for one person becomes a news story for the rest of the world. People begin to think that they have a right to know about that person’s life, a right to know personal details about them. Some people even start thinking that this unfortunate person owes them something. This obsession with news “stories” is too real, and has caused grief to many families all over the wolrd, and continues to do so.

Now for what I didn’t like about this book. The story became a bit hard to swallow as it progressed. There are too many coincidences, too many secrets, quite a few things that remain unresolved, and the climax was a bit of a let down, not because of the twist; it was a good twist, one of the better ones that I have read recently, but it was just too easy in the end, for the culprit as well as the one who got them.

Even with the unbelievability, I enjoyed reading The Girl From Widow Hills. It is a good one time read for fans of dark thrillers.

Posted on

Sunday Discussion: Are We Giving Up On Our Mother Tongue?

My mother tongue is Urdu. As an expat living in the Middle East for the last 10 years, one of the things that I am most ashamed of is that I have not been too diligent in teaching my children my mother tongue. Of course, they speak the language and understand it. Two of them can even read it, but it is like a foreign language to them; they will never use it if they can get away with using English.

When we first moved away from Pakistan, my children were 5.5 years, 2 years, and 10 months old. The eldest knew how to read and write Urdu. Today he is the only one who is most comfortable speaking it. The younger two have not known a single day of schooling in Pakistan. It was always up to me to teach them.

I remember I asked my aunt to send me some Urdu and Math workbooks when the younger ones became old enough to go to school. My aunt, being the teacher that she is, got a huge stack of workbooks, 3-4 different ones, each ranging from kindergarten to Grade 7. I would love to say that I was able to teach my kids something from them, but that isn’t true.

Over the next few years I would try and fail time and again to get them to learn the language. The eldest one, being the quick study that he is, and because he already had a rudimentary knowledge of the language, was the only one who seemed to get something out of these exercises. The middle one has only recently started taking Urdu classes along with the eldest, and is making better progress. It’s the youngest one who makes me despair. She is the weakest when it comes to Urdu. Yet she is the only one not taking a class to remedy this situation!

While this is a problem for me and my husband because we love our language, and want our kids to remain in touch with their motherland, it is not the same with all parents, even the ones living in Pakistan! Over the last 10 years, the thing that has pained me the most while visiting my country has been the fact that people have stopped using Urdu. Everywhere I go, I see parents talking to their small kids in English. It is like they are trying to prove something that doesn’t need to be proven.

I used to be happy going back because I felt that my kids would learn something while they were there. All 3 of them had strict instructions to talk in Urdu to everyone. Unfortunately, many adults still think that my kids provide the perfect opportunity for their kids to polish their English language skills! It might seem over the top, but I have had women ask me to tell my children to speak in English to their kids, as they don’t allow their children to talk in Urdu in their schools, and as a consequence, at home! (This was truly a facepalm moment for me, and the lowest when talking about my language, sadly.)

Language is a big part of national identity for any nation. It is one of the major factors that differentiates people from the rest of the world. When I see young people in my country saying that they took easy Urdu in school, and feeling proud of it, I feel a pang in my heart. All over the world people take pride in their mother tongue. They prefer to talk in their own language than in any other; why is it that we are so different? Why are our schools not promoting our own language? I have seen schools here in the Middle East insisting on teaching Arabic to all students, especially the locals, so that they don’t lose their language to modern schooling and English. Yet, here we are, churning out students who are proud of the fact that they are weak in their own language.

Urdu has been the chosen language of great poets and authors for centuries, yet these great writers find very little readership today. How many young people can boast about having read Manto or Naseem Hijazi or Intizar Husain? How many know about Quratulain Haider or Khadija Mastoor or Ismat Chughtai? Are there any twenty-somethings who can claim to know Mir or Ghalib or even Faiz or Faraz or Nasir Kazmi?

We, as a nation, and I’m not excluding myself, are doing a grave injustice to our beautiful language. It is good to move with the world and become a global citizen, yet it is also essential to keep your own individual identity, to be unique in your own right. In trying to keep up with the world, we seem to be losing out on keeping up with our true selves. We have to collectively try and undo the damage that we have done to our own language. We need work hard to teach our future generations, or we are the ones who will turn out to be the eventual losers.

I don’t mean to say that everyone should suddenly start reading huge tomes written in a language that you find incomprehensible. I just want us to start loving our mother tongue and trying our best to show that love. Once we start trying, our future generations might also follow suit and save Urdu from becoming a forgotten language.

Posted on

Review: The Runaways

Rating: 2.5 Stars

The Runaways by Fatima Bhutto has made me very conflicted. Even though this was the first book by her that I was reading, I have caught glimpses of her work over the years, and have always thought of her as very articulate and clear of thought. So, when I started reading this book, I was looking forward to reading an exciting and relevant story. Sadly, this was not the case.

The Runaways is the story of three people who have nothing in common, it seems. Anita Rose is the daughter of a masseuse, living in the slums of Karachi; Monty is the son of one of the most influential men in the same city; while Sunny lives in Portsmouth with his widowed father. The lives of these three characters are going to cross in the middle of the Iraqi desert, resulting in tragedy.

The premise and the pace of the story are full of potential. There is nothing wrong with Fatima Bhutto’s imagination and creativity. There is something to be said about having a strong female protagonist, who faces the world fearlessly and is convinced that she is destined for bigger things. The character of a mother who wants to give her kids everything without compromising her principles, is also applaudable. Which brings me to what went wrong, for me at least.

There is so much to unpack here that I don’t even know where to start. I’ll start with the most basic thing, the names and mannerisms of the characters. That was my first clue that this book has been written by someone on the outside looking in. It wouldn’t matter if there was a feeling of empathy, but Bhutto doesn’t seem to like or sympathise with her own characters.

In order to make Anita Rose strong and empowered, Bhutto has turned Sunny and Monty into caricatures. Sunny, the only character whose arc is believable, is an ass; while Monty’s going from being a spoilt rich kid to becoming a Jihadi is difficult to swallow. All stereotypes ever applied to young Pakistani men have been used here at least once. Same with all the females who are not Anita Rose. It is somewhat difficult to believe that in a story of this magnitude, there is not one female who is nice, and not promiscuous!

The character of Anita Rose, on the other hand, defies logic. The way a poor Christian girl lands up in Iraq and becomes influential in a militant group, seems so far-fetched. At least I have never heard of women influencing men among people famous for recruiting brides on the internet!

I have lost count of the books that have been written about Karachi and the people living there without delving deep into the essence of the city. Karachi is a living, breathing metropolis, like hundreds of other big cities, with a character that is uniquely its own. To start off a book by waxing lyrical about the city, and then losing the whole essence of the city during the course of the book is, for me, unfortunate and sad.

Of course there’s also the sleeping around, making out and getting intoxicated that goes on in the whole book. I know I have been vocal about how this seems to have become the central theme of all books revolving around Muslims in general, and Karachi in particular. I’m not oblivious to the fact that it is a reality that needs to be accepted; my beef is with the way that it is portrayed. Two of my most favourite books that are set in Karachi are not pretty books, but they resonate with me because the truth in their words can be felt.

In The Runaways, all I could take away at the end was that men are evil; people who follow Islam indulge in the craziest activities; the elite class is full of jerks; it is impossible to find good people in this world. I wish I had held off reading this book for a little longer!

Posted on

Review: The Sun Down Motel

Rating: 3.5 Stars

If The Broken Girls was creepy, The Sun Down Motel promises to be so much more! Simone St. James has outdone herself in chills and secrets. A mystery spanning 35 years, the story is full of intrigue and suspense; and it has a few ghosts thrown in for additional thrill! I had fun reading this book, especially late at night when you can actually feel the creepiness of the Sun Down Motel.

In 1982, Viv Delaney stumbles onto the Sun Down Motel on her way to New York. Circumstances make her stay back in the small, strange town of Fell. The owner practically hands her the night shift, and thus begins the spooky tale of the ghostly motel. The place is frightening, and haunted, yet Viv finds herself being drawn into this dark world. Then she stumbles upon an unsolved murder and things start spiraling downwards from there.

In 2017, Carly Kirk decides to visit the town where here aunt Viv disappeared mysteriously, before Carly was born. But fate has decided to play a joke and Carly ends up with the same job as her aunt at the Sun Down Motel. Before long, she too finds herself going down the same rabbit hole as her aunt. Nothing seems to have changed at the Sun Down in the last 35 years.

The story mostly takes place during the night when the Sun Down comes to life in a very creepy way. The parallels between the lives of Viv and Carly are startling, and their destinies seem intertwined. Many times I found myself wanting to tell them to stay away from the place and leave town.

Yet, not once did I feel like the two women acted stupidly. Normally, in such situations you feel like the protagonist made stupid choices by going it alone and not asking for help. No such thing in this book. Both women are smart, courageous, and not afraid to ask for help. Yes, there are a few instances where you feel like Viv is taking too many chances, but when you know you’re right and no one believes you, there are times when you don’t really have much of a choice.

The mystery part becomes a bit easy to work out as the story progresses but that is not really the main draw of the book in the first place. The climax could have been a bit more detailed. I could have read a few more pages if I had gotten all the answers, the most bothersome being the story of Callum MacRae. Other than that, I was happy with the whole story and would recommend it to all fans of supernatural thrillers.

Posted on

Sunday Pet Peeve: The Pakistani Stereotype

Last week I read a book by a well known Pakistani author. I was looking forward to reading it, the author being someone I really admire in real life. As I delved deeper into the book, I couldn’t help but be disappointed. On the surface, there wasn’t anything wrong with the story or the characters, yet something kept nagging at me. After a while I realized what it was that was bothering me so much. It is the same thing that I have encountered time and again in many books, some of which have been popular worldwide: Stereotype.

When you’re reading about a place close to your heart, or about people like you or like someone you know, you become sensitive to the smallest of details and nuances. You start seeing discrepancies and false facts, sometimes exaggerations and even blatant lies. Ideally it shouldn’t matter too much. Everyone has the right to put their original thoughts on paper, and the world can go hang! Sometimes, however, it is not so easy to overlook this perpetuation of stereotype.

My problem has never been with the stories or the actual things happening in these books. My beef is with authors who seem to be writing things that they have no idea about. It shows lack of proper research and lazy editing.

Many people accused me of being oblivious to the multitude of sins this city hides, when I criticized Karachi, You’re Killing Me. It makes Karachi seem like a city of drug filled parties and sex and booze. I have always considered Moth Smoke an amazing book, and that whole book is about drugs, parties and all such. While one paints the 20-somethings of the whole city with the same brush, the second one makes it clear that it is talking about one segment of the city. And this is where the difference lies.

When you read The Party Worker, you will see the political under belly of this very city. A city where drugs, alcohol, sex and murder are rampant and unapologetic. Yet you will never think that this is all that Karachi has to offer. It is not the story, the characters or their actions that are problematic, it is the way they are presented in the text. Any metropolitan city in the world has many shades, no one can claim to know all of them. The least a writer can do is realize that what they’re writing does not represent the city as a whole. It is but a subset that the writer has had experience with.

Then there is the Urdu in these books. With the example of so many Hollywood Movies and TV shows getting the language wrong, one would expect the local writers to put a little more effort in using proper Urdu words wherever necessary. There have been countless instances where the word used has been correct, but its tense or form is wrong. To a person who knows the language, this just seems like sloppy writing.

In my opinion, this has mainly to do with the fact that most of our English writers are not very proficient with their mother tongue. They come from a certain educational background which makes them unaware of what they are doing wrong. This is what editors are for. Unfortunately, foreign publishing houses and editors take it for granted that the writer would know their own language. They don’t realize that knowing how to speak a language doesn’t automatically make you an expert at it.

It is unfortunate that we as a nation don’t own our language, and that it is Urdu that is a foreign language for us. The disparity in our education system is such that it is difficult to find writers proficient in both languages. Educational institutions that give importance to one and ignore the other, leading to this unfortunate result.

Now I come to the problem with how Muslims are depicted in books. I am so tired of reading the same depictions of Muslim, either religious fanatics or complete liberals. It is time to move on from the Bollywood stereotype of topi-wearing, checkered handkerchief-carrying men, with eyes full of kajal, and mouths full of Astaghfirullahs! The world happens to be full of Muslims who are not at either extreme. It seems like most writers are trying to pander to a set narrative. They are writing that which appeals to the western audience. And when you write to please someone other than yourself, it shows in your writing.

I wanted to write about all the books that I find problematic in this sense. However, I’d rather talk about books like A Place For Us and The Family Tree. Books that show the face of millions of Muslims living all over the world not up in arms or drowned in alcohol. Again, I’m not denying the existence of militants or people who have turned away from religion. But in all fairness, it is absurd to stereotype all Muslims and make it seem that these are the only ones left on this earth.

While I can rant and rave about the injustice of misrepresentation for hours, I think I should stop here. This blog is just a way for me to let out some steam. It is in no way meant to offend or please anyone. I write my thoughts without censoring them (much!) So, that’s all for today. Until next time.

Posted on

Review: The Family Tree

Rating: 4.5 Stars

First and foremost, I want to thank Sairish Hussain for writing The Family Tree. It was so refreshing to read about people that I could relate to; people like me, my friends, and my family. There have been very few books about people of Pakistani origin that portray them as normal, everyday humans, with average families and average lives, without the specter of religion haunting the whole story, sometimes even overshadowing it!

The story spans a period of some 24 years, from 1993 to 2017, and is the tale of a family living in Yorkshire. The mother dies in childbirth and leaves behind a new-born girl and a ten year old boy. This situation is bewildering and upsetting for the poor father. He fights his way through depression and brings up his children to the best of his ability. There is nothing stereotypical about this man, or any other man in this book. These characters are all as real as any living person.

Amjad is a British-born man. His parents migrated to Britain from Pakistan before his birth. He works at a warehouse and lives in a modest house, but dreams of giving his children a better life. Dreaming the same dream with him is Harun, Amjad’s best friend. Amjad’s son Saahil and Harun’s son Ehsan are also inseparable and do everything together. When his wife Neelam dies while giving birth to their daughter Zarah, it shatters Amjad. He is determined to do his best by his children and give them everything that he is capable of providing.

With Harun and his wife’s support, and with Saahil helping him along, Amjad manages to give his kids a loving home, not remarrying despite his Ammi’s constant nagging. Things start looking up when Zahra turns ten, and Saahil and Ehsan are all set to graduate from engineering university. And then everything changes in just one night. The lives of all these people change after an act of senseless violence, and Amjad finds himself left alone to raise Zahra with only the aid of his ageing Ammi.

The three main characters are also the narrators of the story. There is a background of cultural and religious identities clashing with the politics of the times. The characters are so well fleshed out that it is easy to picture them all as if they were right in front of you.

While there are many instances where I might have shed a tear or two, this book is not heavy on the heart; you never feel hopeless. Every character is determined in their own way, trying to navigate life like everyone does in the real world. They have their strengths and weaknesses; their highs and lows; yet they remain hopeful. This sense of hope is why The Family Tree stands apart from other similar books.

All through the book we encounter things like racism, religious identity, inter racial friendships, sexism, and other relevant issues. Yet, not once do these issues take over the narrative and draw you away from the real story. It is like all these things are a part of life, not anyone’s whole life. And this is what makes this book amazing in my eyes.

Amjad is representative of all those fathers who live their lives for their children. His love for his family shines in his character above everything else. My heart ached so much for this man who has to raise 2 kids on his own, and yet does the best that he can to give them a better future. There are so many fathers like him in this world, who are willing to sacrifice everything for their children, and who work tirelessly towards this end.

Saahil is one of those young men whose dreams are cut short by tragic circumstances. He is forced to grow up much before his time. His actions and their consequences are so real and believable that you can’t help but feel sad for this boy. He thinks and reacts like a normal teenager and while his actions are questionable, he thankfully doesn’t succumb to the too-common fate of becoming radicalized!

Then there is Zahra.

…everyone is too busy telling us who we are. It’s time we spoke for ourselves.

My favourite character by far has to be Zahra. She is intelligent, smart, beautiful, and knows what she wants. Her identity does not confuse her, nor is she apologetic about her heritage. Zahra is a British Muslim with Pakistani roots, and the world has to accept her for who she is. It was sheer pleasure to encounter such a strong female character who doesn’t have to resort to props like a shalwar kameez or a hijab to make her a Muslim, nor does she need validation from the males around her to make her a good Pakistani girl. These are the kind of girls that I want to read about.

I would also like to add that I really love the cover of The Family Tree. It is beautiful, and so in sync with the book. Neelam’s shawl plays a major role in the story. It is the thread that binds this family together. If there is one thing that can represent this family, it is this piece of cloth. It truly does connect all three people in this family.

The Family Tree is one book that I would recommend everyone to read, whether you are a South Asian or not. I promise you will not regret it!

Posted on

Review: Lock Every Door

Rating: 3 Stars

Riley Sager is an author whose books are a must-buy for me. I enjoyed his first two books so much that even the weak links in the books didn’t really matter. To say that I was looking forward to reading Lock Every Door, is an understatement; which is why I was so very disappointed with it! Even though there are some stellar reviews and this is a highly rated book, it failed to impress.

The book starts off spectacularly with Jules Larsen finding an apartment sitting job that seems too good to be true. She is unemployed and has been unceremoniously dumped by her boyfriend. The address is the prestigious Bartholomew, a New York landmark, exclusive and secretive. The apartment is everything that she has ever dreamed of, and more. Except that it gives her the creeps and she can feel something sinister within its walls. Shrugging off the feeling as a residue of her past experiences, and ignoring the warnings of her best friend, Jules decides to spend the next 3 months living in luxury and earning the easiest money ever.

The rules are very strict. Jules cannot disturb any other residents; she cannot spend any nights away from the apartment; and she can not have any visitors. For Jules, these rules are just the eccentricities of the rich and famous, and not something to worry about.

There are also other apartment sitters in the building. Jules soon finds herself befriending Ingrid who lives in the apartment right beneath Jules’s. Ingrid tells Jules that she feels scared, like something is not right in their building. Jules laughs off her fears and doesn’t think much of them. Until one night she hears a scream from Ingrid’s apartment, and finds out that Ingrid has disappeared without trace. As Jules is afraid that history might repeat itself, she decides to find Ingrid and lay her own demons to rest.

The suspense and tension till here is absolutely fantastic; you can feel the sinister presence of evil within the Bartholomew. However, as Lock Every Door rushes towards the climax, everything starts spinning out of control. Jules suddenly becomes a dumb girl making poor choices, yet being smart enough or lucky enough to get away with them. Then comes the last part of the book that is one of the most unbelievable sequences that I have ever read. I understand that it is not easy to find a balance between the sinister and the real world, and sometimes writers find it hard to come up with a resolution that is good enough to justify the whole spooky scenario while being realistic at the same time. Still, this was a bit much for me, and a big let down after such an excellent rest of the book!

This brings me to the fact that all three of Riley Sager’s books have very weak climax sequences. The perpetrator is a surprise for sure, but once you look back, the whole plot starts to look shaky. This time around, more than shaky, it seems downright ridiculous and full of plot holes. If I seem too harsh, then it’s only because I expected so much from Lock Every Door, and I don’t like being disappointed.

Still, that doesn’t stop me from looking forward to Sager’s next book. I have bought it already and can’t wait to read it.

Posted on

Review: The Hunting Party

Rating: 3 Stars

The Hunting Party by Lucy Foley is definitely a page turner. It has all the elements that make it a great thriller. At least, till you finish. Then you realize that there are some unanswered questions that keep niggling at you.

A group of friends has been spending New Year’s Eve together for the last ten years. This tradition has continued ever since they were students at Oxford. This year they find themselves isolated and cut off from the rest of the world on an estate spread over thousands of acres in the Scottish Highlands. The cracks in their long lasting friendship begin to appear on the train journey to the remote location. They reach the estate on 30th December, and by New Year’s Day, one of them has disappeared.

Things seem to be normal as they all try to capture the old feelings of being carefree and having a good time. But over time, each one of them has become resentful. They all hold grudges from things said and done over the last decade. As events start to unravel, it seems like any one of them could be a murderer….or the victim.

Going back and forth in time, the story is told from 5 different perspectives. It is not clear who the victim is until very near the climax. The suspense is gripping and the setting is bleak and brutal. The characters are nothing new, just the typical type of people in almost every book about old friends. There’s the Queen Bee around whom the whole group revolves; the handsome but shallow Hunk married to the Queen Bee; the simple and quiet Best Friend; the Angry dude with a secret crush on the Queen Bee; the Gay couple; the Loved Up couple with a kid; and the Wannabe who wants to be best friends with the Queen Bee.

Even with such cliched characters, The Hunting party is interesting and keeps you glued to find out who has been killed, and who has the stomach to commit murder. However, the ending leaves a lot of things up in the air. The climax is not spectacular, but it is satisfactory. The epilogue, though leaves a lot of relevant questions unanswered while giving details on things that were rather irrelevant to the main story.

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!

I have some questions that I need answered. I was ready to give the book a higher rating, until I realized that there were some very glaring loose ends.

  • What was the purpose of the converstion that Heather overhears in her office? How did the guy get the note in the first place? And did it turn up later on to destory him? Also, why was the woman talking to him like it mattered to her, if she was already resentful and disillusioned with him?
  • The court case was biased because the jury was impressed by the killer’s plea that it was unintentional, but what about the attempt to murder that was quite deliberate with a rifle stolen from the estate? Weren’t there more than enough eyewitnesses for that?
  • I have a problem with protagonists being stupid, taking matters into their own hands, and wandering, deliberately and knowingly, into danger without telling anyone else!
Posted on

Friendship Trope In Real Life

This is an ode to the friendship of all those people who have stuck by me through thick and thin, uplifted me and supported me, and sometimes even fed me to the wolves! Ladies and gentlemen, these people are commonly known as my friends. While I love all of them unconditionally, I have to admit that there are a few who embody the saying that who needs enemies when you have friends like these!

I have always been somewhat cold about friendships. I have left people behind and moved on. Even as it shames me when I think about it, I don’t think I have any lasting regrets except one. So, for a person like me, to realize that I still have friends from school who I count as my biggest supports, is quite a revelation. When I say school friends, I’m talking about 30 odd years of friendship here. That in itself is an achievement. To be able to stay together for this long even if we talk once or twice a year, is something that makes me feel warm inside. These are my Harry Potter friends. They have seen me through childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and will probably be there to send me into insanity when I’m old and wrinkled!

People say that you form the strongest bonds with your school friends. While it is true, I have also found everlasting friendship in my university. These people, they refuse to leave me alone, and drag me into every crazy conversation that they’re having. Over the last 20 years, it is they who have made efforts to keep me in the loop, me being the one to do occasional disappearing acts. These are my Lord Of The Rings friends. Always ready to make grand plans and taking me on useless adventures. They make me roll my eyes and take the most pleasure in yanking their chains.

I worked in a corporate sector for just one year, and managed to make a couple of lifelong friends. My Travelling Cat Chronicles friends. I don’t see them for years, don’t talk to them for months. They live in completely different parts of the world now. Yet, I know that any time I need help, I can just call upon them and they will be there.  I know this because I have done it, and they have proven me right.

As I entered my thirties, I knew that I would never make new best friends again. It was too late, I was too set in my ways and a little bit anti-social, if I am honest.

Little did I know that just around the corner waited 5 women who would turn my life upside down. On the surface it made sense that we got together: our husbands worked in the same office, our kids went to the same school, and we lived in approximately the same vicinity. Yet, out of the many women who came under this category, the 6 of us found our way to each other. And it isn’t our husbands or kids that still keep us connected even when we are thousands of miles apart now. This is the kind of friendship that is very hard to find in the world. I present to you, my Big Little Lies friends. They are loud, irreverent, funny and will probably commit murder one of these days!

These are just a few of the friends that I am grateful for. Over the years, I have gone through regular phases of being too social or completely anti-social. I have made friends, lost touch with them, moved on, reconnected, lost touch again and so on, so forth. Some of them have stuck by me despite my shortcomings, making time for me whenever I have needed them to. I came to appreciate these amazing people when I was going through a personal tragedy a couple of years ago. They showed up, ready to support me even when I had been absent from their lives for the longest of times. 

I am thankful for all these thoughtful people today; my friends, my tribe, my family by choice.

Exit mobile version