Tag: reading

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Sunday Venting: Are The Kids Alright?

When my children were little, everyone kept telling me how I was lucky to have had them close together. That way, they said, they will grow up together and you will be free to enjoy your own life. As my children grow older, I have started having serious doubts about this statement. They will probably drive me insane long before they’re old enough to take care of themselves!

I know how almost everything is blamed on the electronic devices and the screen time that kids get these days, and I have always been unable to manage screen time, but for my kids there might be another reason. Over the last few months, I cannot help but feel if it is the books causing all these problems? The books that my kids read currently are nothing like the books that we used to read.

I understand that things tend to change over time, and what was deemed taboo in our times is up for general discussion everywhere now. However, the overall language, stories and setup of most of the newer books leaves me feeling a bit disgruntled. Maybe it’s age catching up on me, but it has become commonplace to use slang and derogatory words in children’s books. The humour is crude and the characters as far from exemplary as possible.

There is also a clear difference between girls’ books and boys’ books. When I was in school, books were books. They were for everyone. Yes, there were some girlish books, like Anne of Green Gables or Nancy Drew, and some books that were more interesting for boys, like Hardy Boys, but overall they had the same feel. Books like Sweet Dreams or Sweet Valley High, while popular with girls, were not the kind of books we generally found in our school library. So it was mostly through second-hand shops and borrowing from other girls that you could get your hands on such books.

Today, children have a much wider variety of books to choose from, yet to me, they all look and sound the same. Girls’ books are all about chasing boys, dressing up, or hanging out with the “in” crowd. It has become very hard to filter books and even harder to stop girls from being influenced by them. Things are not much better for boys. All fictional boys are either full of toilet humour, engaging in very crass behaviour, or chasing aliens. Some even take out the time to moon over girls!

Of course, all this is a part of life and our children should read about these things, but these are not the only things that matter. Sometimes I find it hard to believe how accepting we have become of bad behaviour in our children. All the shows that my kids watch on TV (and they are only allowed to watch Disney) are about children who have the worst manners and who behave like delinquents in school! They treat their teachers like trash, and their parents don’t seem to fare any better. Similarly, in bookshops, I can find shelves upon shelves of children’s books with protagonists who are a parent’s worst nightmare.

Unfortunately, I don’t know how to change things. I can limit the screen time, but cannot ban it altogether, and I can screen the books, but not when I don’t have other options. Things like the home environment matter, as does the relationship between parent and child, but the reality is that your child is spending most of the day with other kids who are being influenced by all this. It has become quite a struggle to keep a balance and not become complete villains in our children’s lives. The uphill battle continues.

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Review: A Firefly In The Dark

Rating: 3 Stars

I’m suitably spooked. The book cover tricrked me into thinking this was a children’s book, if not funny, then surely a bit sad and melancholy. The name of the writer tricked me into thinking that this would be a lighthearted affair, suitable for reading before going to bed. I was so off the mark that I’m convinced I need to read more reviews before I buy a book!

A Firefly in The Dark by Shazaf Fatima Haider is a book that brings to life all the horror stories that we ever listened to, be it the ones told by our grandmothers or the ones by older siblings/ cousins who wanted to watch us squirm, or by that crazy school friend who was not quite right in the head! This is not the horror of Hollywood movies or other English books that you have read. This is the horror of your childhood, when you were afraid to go out of the house in the afternoon because you might meet the woman with turned feet, or you hid in your blanket at night because there was something that was always scratching on your window. So, yeah, after reading this, there go my dreams of giving it to my daughter to read. She will probably make my life miserable by refusing to sleep alone.

Sharmeen is an almost-thirteen year old, who comes to live with her maternal grandmother after her life is turned upside down by a sad accident. She is unhappy with this new life where she feels like an outsider both at home and in school. The one spot of light in her bleak existence is the unbelievable stories that her grandmother tells her. These dark and twisted tales are the bone of contention between Sharmeen’s mother and grandmother, making the house a battleground.

As Sharmeen begins to realize that these stories are not really stories but have a basis in truth, tragedy strikes again and she has to come face to face with these forces of evil. However, she is not alone, as she meets her own personal jinn, Jugnu, so named because of his first appearance as a firefly. It’s a race against time as Jugnu and Sharmeen struggle to fight and destroy this evil before it destroys her whole family.

It was seriously good writing with a bit of humor and lots of darkness, but sadly, it also clashed with my faith and beliefs. It was hard to overcome my prejudices because all the stories and characters were so close to home. When you read mythological stories from other regions and countries, it’s easier to dismiss them as fiction and move on, but when faced with stories from your childhood that might have some basis in truth, the mind refuses to accept things that challenge personal belief.

So, yes, it has been quite an experience reading this book. I can’t wait for other books by this author because she is definitely one of the few local authors who I think are genuinely gifted writers.

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Review: Norse Mythology

Rating: 3.5 Stars

Mythology has always held some appeal for me. From Greek myths, to Roman Gods, from Hindu deities to Mayan ruins, I have always been fascinated by these stories that people have believed in for thousands of years. Sadly, Norse mythology has always been more of a comic book thing for me.

My only introduction to Thor was through Marvel’s Mighty Thor, which,unfortunately, didn’t endear him much to me. Even with the wildly popular movies, he remained one of my least favourite gods, a mere caricature when compared to the more cunning and colourful, Loki.

Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology expands on some of the better known stories from this almost-forgotten mythological era. It brings to life some characters who we know from the Marvel Cinematic Universe and introduces us to some who we never knew about.

My interest in reading these stories stemmed more from reading Gaiman’s American Gods than anything else. So, if you want to do a bit of background reading about Norse gods and what they got up to, then this should be the book you pick up.

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Sunday Dispute: Is It Mid-Life Crisis?

I have been facing a dilemma. That of changing tastes and choices. I have always been proud of primarily being a detective at heart; a thrill seeker and a mystery solver, with a streak of adventure and a love for the unknown. There were a few years when this love was shared by another genre: Romance. Alas, that love affair only lasted for the duration of my teenage years. There were a few other friendships, but none as permanent and everlasting as the one between mystery thrillers and me.

This year, as I enter into my forties, I fear that my reading habits might be going through a mid-life crisis. The previously much-loved and adored friend no longer seems to hold my interest. Infact, I can hardly get myself to even look at a thriller any more. There are stacks and stacks of books staring at me, silently willing me to pick them up, their attractive covers screaming from Instagram accounts, their stellar reviews whispering sweet nothings into my ears, yet I feel nothing.

I have not found another favorite genre yet, but I’m looking around. All of a sudden I seem to have become more bold and daring, willing to venture into unknown worlds, rather than remaining a one-genre woman. It’s not easy. I would say it’s a lot of hard work. I keep thinking that if I read enough crap I might find something that will hold my interest for a longer period of time. Something with whom I can enjoy a long-term relationship.

But when you have been married for as long as mysteries/ thrillers and I, anything new just seems like a short-lived affair brought on by the advent of middle age. You have to give me one thing though. I haven’t stopped spending money on the darned genre. I still buy more thrillers than is good for my bank account, more than I can possibly read in this lifetime at least! It’s like a disease in my blood.

The more I write about it, the more it seems like the tale of a marriage going through a bad time. Maybe that’s what it is. We have been together for so long that we need a break from each other. Yeah, that’s what we should do.

Though we need to define the boundaries of this break. I don’t want to be left alone later on in life, telling anyone who would listen, “…but we were on a break!”

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Review: The Hiding Place (The Taking of Annie Thorne)

Rating: 3 Stars

Ever since I read The Chalk Man last year, I had been waiting for C. J. Tudor’s next. I love thrillers that combine suspense with just the right kind of creepiness. The Chalk Man reminded me of Stephen King, but with less horror and more suspense. The Hiding Place (or The Taking of Annie Thorne) didn’t quite manage to live up to my expectations.

I realize that it is quite unfair to compare two books, as each has its own strengths and weaknesses. Even with that in mind, The Hiding Place turned out to be quite average as far as thrillers go.

There is no doubt that C. J. Tudor is a master storyteller. Her words have the power to transport you into the setting of the story, and actually feel the characters. The problem occurs when the characters are not strong enough to arouse any feelings inside the reader. The worst thing for a character to do is to inspire indifference. This book, while written well, fails to deliver in the give-a-damn department.

Joe Thorne never thought he’d be back in Arnhill. He thought he had left it all far behind; the toxic friendships, the incident at the abandoned mine, the suicide, and most of all, the disappearance of his sister. But he finds himself not only going back, but also lying his way into a teaching position at his former school. He has his own reasons for returning, and trying to stay low-key, one of which is a strange e-mail that he has received.

As soon as he sets foot in his hometown, Joe encounters hostility from old friends as well as new acquaintances. He is not surprised, nor is he deterred from his objective. For he knows what actually happened at the old mine the night that his beloved sister went missing. He was devastated by her disappearance, and thought that there couldn’t be anything worse than that. But he was wrong, because there was something worse that could happen, and it did. His sister came back.

The plot and characters are somewhat reminiscent of Stephen King’s It, which remains to date, the scariest book that I have ever read. But other than the most superficial similarity, The Hiding Place fails to scare and creep out. Even the most horrific scenes felt one-dimensional and just not scary enough. It was like watching a movie where the actors fail to deliver the required emotions and expressions.

It is an average thriller that while interesting will most probably fail to impress the hardcore horror/ thriller fans. However, C. J. Tudor is one writer who I will never hesitate to read, so I’m looking forward to her future endeavors. Hopefully, I will find my next favourite book then.

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Review: The Party Worker

Rating: 4.5 Stars

Omar Shahid Hamid is a Pakistani author who I rate very highly. If you want to read about the real Karachi, then his books are the ones you should pick up. Of course, his books show the underbelly of this multi-layered, multi-cultural city, and are only reflective of the shady side of things, but no one is more qualified than Hamid to give a realistic view of this side of the city. He is a real police officer who has seen all this and more, up close and personal.

The Party Worker is a work of fiction, like all Hamid’s other books, but those who have seen the Karachi of the 1990’s and 2000’s will know that this fiction is actually a very thinly veiled dig at some very real players in the political scene of that era. There is more than a grain of truth in almost all the incidents mentioned here. Most of these will chill you to the bone.

Despite my high rating and praise for this book, it’s not for the faint of heart, for it shows the brutality and lawlessness prevalent at that time, making some things very hard to digest. It might be upsetting for the reader, but while many incidents really are a work of fiction, the most cruel and senseless ones are not. A certain football match in Lyari comes to mind.

As a die-hard Karachiite, it is not easy to recommend a book that shows my city in a less than favorable light, but it shows the real face of politics, of what power and money can do to people, of how people are willing to go to any lengths to gain that power and money.

It also shows how Karachi is a melting pot of ethnicities, all vying for their share of the pie. Karachi is a real character in this book, a thriving metropolis that makes everyone want to rule it, because whoever rules this city, controls the largest chunk of the country’s economy. It is like a siren’s call, with people willing to kill and die just to own a part of this sprawling city.

It was a struggle to write all this without actually giving away the plot of the book, but it all starts in New York, and culminates in this city of dreams and lights, that is the economic hub of Pakistan. A must read for fans of political intrigue and secret plans, who are not squeamish about a little (read: a lot of!) blood and gore. Oh, and that ending is not really that unbelievable, if you really think about it!

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Review: The Only Story

Rating: 4 Stars

I finally got around to reading The Only Story by Julian Barnes even though I had bought it soon after it was published last year. I thought it took me a long time to read The Sense of an Ending because I was travelling and didn’t get much time to read. After reading The Only Story, I realized that I was wrong.

Barnes’s writing is such that it needs to be read slowly, each sentence needing complete concentration. His books are not light reading by any stretch of imagination, they require your full attention. I don’t know what it is about his words, but I had to stop reading several times just to chew upon what I had read. Also, because some parts made my heart feel so heavy that I had no choice but to put the book down for a few hours.

Most of us have only one story to tell. I don’t mean that only one thing happens to us in our lives: there are countless events, which we turn into countless stories. But there’s only one that matters, only one finally worth telling.

Paul was nineteen when he fell in love for the very first time. This first love was what defined the rest of his life, and what was the only story he found worth telling. It might have been a regular love story, had Paul not fallen in love with a woman in her mid-forties, old enough to be his mother.

Paul was happy being the village scandal at that age, and thought, with the immaturity of youth, that love was enough for a couple. That they could live with their love for the rest of their lives without needing anyone or anything else. What followed, was something that Paul could never have imagined.

There are so many issues underlying what is essentially a love story, that it seems inevitable that things will spiral out of control. From domestic abuse to alcoholism, PTSD to depression, every character is flawed. And every character is all the more human because of these flaws.

What we are given is not actually an accurate account of the events or the characters, for it is coloured by Paul’s own prejudices and the diluting effect time has had on his memories. We are shown the story through his eyes as he looks back at his life after decades, and that makes you wary of believing what he says. After all, every man wants to be the hero in his own story.

In the end, it is easy to feel some sort of sympathy for the young boy and understanding for the young man, who had to make some tough decisions in life when all he wanted was to love unconditionally and not care about convention.

It may not be as powerful as Sense of an Ending, but this book comes quite close to it in my opinion.

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Review: Last Time I Lied

Rating: 4 Stars

Another good thriller by Riley Sager. Last Time I Lied is the story of Emma, whose first stay at summer camp was cut tragically short 15 years ago. After dreaming of going to the exclusive Camp Nightingale for the longest time, Emma finally got a chance when she was 13 years old. Unfortunately, all three of her much older roommates disappeared without trace after just 2 weeks.

Fifteen years later, still traumatized by the events of that long ago summer, Emma is unable to move on, and keeps painting the three missing girls and hiding them in her paintings. It is evident that she has some unresolved issues that are hindering her creative process and making it impossible for her to move on in life.

When the owner of Camp Nightingale decides to reopen the camp, and invites Emma as an instructor, Emma sees the opportunity to find out what happened to her friends and lay the matter to rest once and for all. But there might be other motives attached in both the owner’s invitation, and Emma’s acceptance of it. For Emma is not as truthful as she seems, and her guilt makes her suspicious of everyone else around her.

The camp is a spooky place, haunted by its past, and things are not made easy with all the rumors and scary stories going around about the land surrounding the camp. The instructors and the family of the owner are all suspicious of Emma and her intentions. In these circumstances, the air is fraught with tension and each page brings a new twist to the tale.

Like all good thrillers, most of the action in this book takes place at night when everything seems more sinister and scary. When Emma fails in every attempt to solve the mystery of the disappearance, the reader also runs out of possible scenarios. As both the past and the present become clearer, it’s difficult to decide whether to trust Emma’s narrative or not.

I liked the end because it was unexpected, yet it made sense. Though in all fairness, it is hard to swallow so many red herrings and dead ends. I had fun reading this book. It is not true psychological thriller, nor is it a mystery in the strictest sense. It is a pleasing mixture of both which makes it a good read for fans of thrillers.

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Review: The Silent Patient

Rating: 3.5 Stars

I read some gushing reviews for The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides which made me want to read it immediately. So, instead of waiting for the book to get to me by post, I opted for the Kindle version which is a kind of instant gratification for impatient people like me. I wouldn’t call the book a disappointment, because it kept me hooked and I really wanted to know where it was going, but I wasn’t blown away by it, like some reviewers I really look up to.

Alicia Berenson is the titular Silent Patient in this book. She hasn’t spoken a word in six years, ever since she shot her husband five times, and tried to slit her own wrists. Theo Faber, a forensic psychotherapist becomes obsessed with her case, and vows to make Alicia better again. From the beginning, you see Theo getting caught up in a web of emotions and personal feelings towards his patient. The only thing that remains to be seen is whether he will be able to come out of the whole thing unscathed.

As the book goes back and forth between Theo’s first person narrative, and Alicia’s diary entries, you get the feeling that something doesn’t add up. It takes a while to work it out, but by the time all is revealed in the book, you have managed to guess more or less what it is. Of course, the fact that I have lost count of the multiple-narrative psychological thrillers that I have read might have something to do with why the twist didn’t hit me really hard.

This doesn’t mean that the book is not worth reading. It is a good book with crisp writing and short chapters that keep you hooked; a page-turner for sure. I really enjoyed reading it, until I came to the part that I didn’t enjoy so much… the ending of the book. I feel the end warranted something explosive and unexpected. I find that when reading such thrillers, I don’t really enjoy neat conclusions. Most writers like to wrap things properly and tie up all ends, which doesn’t make for exciting reading.

Recommended for people who like fast paced psychological thrillers.

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Sunday Problems: The Boy And His Books

I have a teenager. He is an enigma. Just like all teenagers are to their parents. He is a lot like I was at his age, and he makes me appreciate my mom every day for putting up with me all those years ago. Like me, he needs to read just one more page of his current read, and like me, he is willing to forget everything else when he is in some other fantasy world. This makes for some interesting clashes between us.

Is there a name for the feeling when you’re in the middle of a rant about how schoolwork should come before anything else, and realize that you yourself were once in the exact same situation that your son now finds himself in? How do you keep your face straight? Do you leave the argument mid-rant? Or do you finish it off, all the while feeling like the worst hypocrite? Because if you’re honest with yourself, you still do the same thing when you stay awake all night to finish a book even when you know you have to get up early the next morning, and go to a very important parent-teacher meeting!

My love for reading was passed on to me by both my parents. Ever since I can remember, I have had some kind of books in my hands. It’s like a madness in all of us, and I seem to have passed it on to my kids. The eldest one has it really bad. He even has the same obsessive notions about books that I do. Like having the same editions for a single series, or thinking it the end of the world if, God forbid, a book cover gets a crease from somewhere, or needing to have a copy of his own even if he can borrow it from someone.

I have a box set of The Lord of The Rings paperbacks that I really love. When he asked to read the series, I let him borrow it. I thought he was quite young for it, and sure enough, he got bored and couldn’t finish it. However, not only was he able to finish The Hobbit, he also enjoyed reading it. Ever since then, somehow he got into his head that he needs to have a copy of The Lord of The Rings in one binding. He kept asking me, I kept telling him no because we already have a set at home.

One day, he found a very nice paperback with the whole series in one binding, and got so fascinated with it that I just had to buy it for him. The book is so thick that it can be used as a foundation stone in the construction of the Two Towers! Just picking it up requires serious muscle. But the boy is happy. He has been reading it religiously, hasn’t even looked at any new books while he is attempting to finish this one.

At first I was surprised at his sudden interest in reading something he had failed at before. Then I realized that this interest was born after watching the LOTR movies. I have never liked movies based on books; I hadn’t even watched the Harry Potter movies until last year. But this in my eyes is the true success of The Lord of The Rings movies… making my son motivated to actually compare the books and the movies.

So now, I sit and wait for him to finish with the tome, so that we can give some attention to the science project due in a few weeks. Today, he finally told me that he is now reading The Return of The King, and I couldn’t help but give a sigh of relief. Now maybe I can get back to some important things myself, like getting a start on that Good Reads challenge that I took up the other day!

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