Book review – Lucifer’s Lungi

Author – Nitin Sawant

Publisher – Fablery

Genre - Fiction

Pages – 111

Price – Rs. 120

This is my first book review after moving to Mumbai. In the crazy pace of things which revolved around shifting, setting up new house, understanding the new office culture, new city, new people etc…a part of me inside was cribbing about the fact that I hadn’t done any book review since I had relocated a month ago. 

So, when Nethra from Fablery contacted me for the review, I was skeptical since I didn’t have the bandwidth to do a lengthy book and do a fair review. However, when she sent me the teaser, the first thing that caught my attention was the number of pages – just 120! While it created some doubts whether the author would have done justice to the book, it also created curiosity in my mind about the ability to tell a story so crisp! Honestly, I was also confident I would be able to do justice to the book considering my hectic schedule in the new city. And now, I can say the book truly cooperated with my busy state of affairs.

The book arrived rather early and was actually received by the carpenters who were doing some last minute work before we shifted to the house!

The Cover

As I unwrapped the book, I was kind of disturbed, for the cover reminded me of “Purana Mandir” type titles of horror films! An old temple against a rustic backdrop and a big moon! Even the title of the book is written in a Red Colour font. I flipped few pages and the welcome page warned “Sometimes the road less travelled is less travelled for a reason…”

“Have I picked up a horror story?” I wondered, since I have a not so good opinion about the Indian style of dealing with this genre. To read or not to read was the question, but the curiosity was to be killed.

The Book

What would you do if you are marooned in a city where everything from the language to people is selfishly strange? You look for short breaths of comfort that energize you to take on the new challenges. Well, that’s how it went for the narrator, who was stuck in Madras for his stint as a bored entrepreneur of a software start up. Being the promoter meant there was no escape from the place till one fine day, a colleague suggested him to explore the country side to help escape the monotony.

As if the bird in the narrator was freed from the cage! He created his own world for the weekends, when he would pack his bags and explore some offbeat place which appealed to him. Not much research, just pack your bags and set out on trail, was his funda. The arrangement was working out fine. He was exploring new places, culture, mindsets every weekend and would return to his monotonous job rather energized. Off beat places also meant cheaper boarding and privacy.

The arrangement was working well for him till one fine Saturday evening he reached the bus stop and as usual after checking out the names on the buses, chose the destination he had never heard of before. When something bad is about to happen, nature gives warning signals – the conductor looked utter puzzle to see him boarding the bus for that particular destination. But the narrator turned a blind eye to the signals and hopped on to the bus going that way.

They say never judge a book by its cover. True, for he had no clue what the beautiful countryside was about to surprise him with. There was one question that constantly troubled him though, “Are you visiting the place for Black magic?”  

Yet, he was in no mood to let local superstitions play spoilsport. Joined by a tea vendor and the son of a priest for company, he decided to visit the temples as just a tourist and perhaps look for free food and lodging. Food he gets in plenty, but even a goat who is to be sacrificed is fed in plenty before being bludgeoned to death. In his effort to show respect to the local customs, he bowed before the altar of sacrifice, offering himself to Luganar, the evil. What could have been a scenic sightseeing tour thus becomes a  tug of war between beliefs, science, logic, the good and the bad. While he had messed up with Luganar, the Devil, only Palaghar, the good God could save him from this mess. But was the logic and education in his mind allowing him to believe all this? Or were things becoming too much for Luganar to offer an encounter?

By the evening, the turn of events could be well explained by the lines from Hotel California, “You can checkout any time you like, but you can never leave!”

Stuck between the good, evil and beliefs, did his logic surrender to the power of the evil? Or the good cleansed the bad? Well, you got to pick up the book, for I offer no spoilers.

What I liked

It’s a quick and convenient read and you can finish it in one sitting! No drags to a reader’s delight! The language is simple and you can visualize scene by scene. The author is able to keep you hooked till the climax!

So in case you are looking for a quick read on a rainy afternoon with a cup of coffee, Lucifer Lungi is certainly a book to be shortlisted!

About the author

Nitin Sawant has tried to make a living by being a software programmer, engineer, stock market analyst, copywriter, journalist, tele-shopping expert and jewellery designer at various stages in his life. He’s travelled far and wide across the world, and has led a nomadic life for past 20 years. This gives a unique perspective to all his tall tales and offers a distinctive colour to his writing.

This is a sponsored review for Fablery. The views and opinions expressed are my own and under no obligation or influence.

Room with a view

This Mumbai Mayanagri never leaves an opportunity to amuse me, be it for the simplest of things. You all will find the incident I share today really funny, especially if you are from the North.

Well, if I ask you what is the meaning of the hindi word “kamra”, what would your answer be…A room, right? You must be wondering I have lost it today!

Wrong answer if you are in Mumbai for here, "kamra" signifies a full flat! Can you believe it?

Even I couldn’t digest it the first few times I heard this rather funny usage.

The first time was when Mr. Hubby and I were on the lookout for a house. While we were clarifying our concerns of adequate water and power supply, security etc. our landlord suddenly mentioned, “Don’t worry, you will really like your Kamra!”

For a moment, I felt like the passenger who has been downgraded from business class to economy at the last moment and whispered to Mr. Hubby “What is he talking about? He thinks we will shell out this much money just for staying in one room?” Mr. Hubby then explained to me the Mumbai version of Kamra!

I was still not convinced. “It might be some old school of thought.” But my myth was broken as soon as we shifted to our house, for everybody from the milkman to the neighbors had the same reaction, “So you have shifted in KAMRA number …?” Always put off by their questions, I replied “Yes, FLAT number…”

And the usage is not just confined to verbal mention. I found several flats in my society mentioning “Kamra no. …”on their name plates!

We Dilliwallas are used to living king size, so a house is usually a kothi, a flat is a 2/3/4 bhk and a kamra usually indicates a single room. But here kothi becomes a bunglow, and flat straightaway gets downgraded to Kamra!

Anyway, I have undivided love for all the Kamras in my flat. But yes, I miss the spacious balconies, terraces and gardens Dilli has to offer.

No matter how much I may have cribbed about my city, the long distance relationship has its own charm, for distance deepens the bond of love. So my big city with a big heart, I miss you!

GoodBye Chacha Choudhary

When I heard about the demise of famous cartoonist Pran this morning, the image of Chacha Choudhary came in front of my eyes – that characteristic moustache, red turban, black waistcoat, thin frame, walking stick, agility in his walk and talk. Somehow I always related Pran with his most famous character – Chacha Choudhary, for like Chacha, Pran too, as the grand old man of Indian Comic industry spread happiness along with the right messages for the younger generation through his comics.  

Look back in your childhood and it is unlikely that you will remember loving any comic more than Chacha Choudhary, Pinki and Billu! In fact I still can’t recall any other Indian comic I would have read other than the ones dished out by Pran. My addiction for these comics knew no bounds and this often invited spanking from mom when she caught me reading comics hidden in textbooks, right before exams! Her usual statement was “If you have this addiction for your studies, the scene would be much better.” As soon as the exams would end, I would rush to my cousin’s place as he had a cardboard carton full of these comics and we would exchange the ones we had read!

While foreign comic characters too were a hit with us, Pran’s comics had a special place in our hearts since they came from our own heartland and were characters from among us.

Chacha Choudhary

The wise old man of Indian comics, Chacha never failed to prove that his mind worked faster than computer. A sharp mind and a gentle heart, he was someone we adored, respected and looked up to. He was the common man hero, who won with his mind and not violence. While Sabu was the volatile one of the duo, Chachaji would always use his presence of mind. Every time he would foil the plans of thugs, it would be in a way that would make us laugh and marvel at the wit and common sense of a common Indian man. While he was tough with thieves and goons, inside the house, he surrendered to the home minister, Chachi. Incidentally, Chacha Choudhary never locked his house when he went out and still managed to save his house from being burgled!

When the TV channels decided to convert Chacha Choudhary into a TV show, Raghubir Yadav was the apt choice for he so so much resembled the image of Chacha we all have in our minds.

Sabu

If there has to be an epitome of our friendship with aliens, Sabu is the best example. The tall and well built Sabu from Jupiter complimented the lean and wise Chacha. Sabu symbolized the angry young man who preferred to break muscles than use his presence of mind. A favourite line in every comic used to be “When Sabu gets angry, a volcano erupts in Jupiter!”

Rocket

Chacha’s large heart got him to adopt Rocket, a stray dog. The docile Raaket (the way they used to mention his name in the Hindi version) didn’t spare the thieves whenever they attempted foulplay. No premium pedigree, this very Indian feeble Rocket was India’s answer to Tintin’s canine companion.

Shrimatiji

Shrimatiji was the reason why my brother and I picked up women’s magazines, for usually the Shrimatiji strip found its place on the last page of women’s magazines mom used to read. Shrimatiji was the smart, progressive woman of the 80s who learnt the tricks of the changing times and always had the last laugh.

Billu and Pinki

Billu and Pinki were the gennext kids of the 80s who preferred to spend their time playing pranks and solving cases rather than glued upto facebook! Though I preferred reading comics where they both appeared along with Chacha Choudhary, it was fun to read about Pinki’s display of bravery and smartness along with her pet squirrel, Kut Kut.

With growing years, Nancy Drews, Hardy Boys and then Sidney Sheldon replaced my bookshelves but just like school friends have a special place in our heart, no matter how many friends we make in life, Pran’s comics are an indispensable part of my childhood.

A big salute to the Walt Disney of India. While I may have read the comics purely for fun back then, now, as I write myself, I understand the craft of this genius who gave us the heroes from amongst the common men and women. He was often quoted as saying “"If I could put a smile on the face of people, I would consider my life successful"

RIP Pran Sahab and thanks for giving us more than just smiles.

How to board an auto in Mumbai!

We Dilliwallas are famous for being rash and rowdy. Ask a Dilliwalla to stand in a queue and you are sure to invite an unpleasant conversation. I recall many instances of women calling each other names in Delhi metro just because one woman asked another to be in a line and the other asked her to mind her business. 

Though I am yet to experience the peak hours in Mumbai local trains, a recent instance made me familiar to the advantages of being patient in a queue.

Yesterday I was trying to board an auto near one of the local train stations. First things first, in Delhi we have rickshaw and autos. But in Mumbai, there are only autos, which Mumbaikars call Rickshaws. And if someone asks you if you came by Rick, don’t be surprised, for rick or rickshaw or auto are all the same! Now Mumbai autowallas are much different from the ones in Delhi (and unless I dedicate a separate post to them, I won’t be doing justice). As I tried to stop autos, none even bothered to slow down and even listen to where I wanted to go. Ignored and dejected, as I wondered and worried, my eyes fell on a long queue at the roadside. Some 15-20 people were standing in a queue like disciplined school kids waiting for school bus. Hullow, we weren’t even that disciplined as school kids and the moment bus used to come, we used to get into junglee mode!

Confused and curious, I thought of asking one of them, ‘’aakhir maajra kya hai’’ then my eyes fell on the umpteen autowallas that stopped near that line. So what did they have that autowallas stopped for them and not the others?

Eureka! In Mumbai, they have a line for boarding autos!!!

I looked at the auto and the last person in the queue who I had to join in case I wanted to be considered for auto. Being a rainy day, the size of the queue got me thinking. I have broken queues at several places in Dilli…my training ground being my school canteen and then the queue for college U Special. The rule is simple, survival of the fittest. But here, there wasn’t any scope of breaking queue. Unlike local trains, people maintained utter discipline and I didn’t want to come in the limelight as being an eager rule breaker!

So I went & stood in the long queue. The old uncle in front of me was a super friendly person and could make out from my looks that I was a newbie in the city. The tensed me was assured the line would move fast as most people going the same side share autos. He was right, for the line moved really fast, and soon I was in the front. As an auto came, the uncle smiled and said “Ricksha thaamba!”

I soon realized the advantage of these auto queues. The autos that stopped here didn’t refuse to commute on your desired destination. Discipline pays at times.

While Mumbaikars reading this are all smiles, my Dilliwaale bhai bandhu need not worry as my notion of discipline was wiped away clear the day I went to drive on the streets of Mumbai! Post coming soon… 

So i finally buy an umbrella!

I have never been fond of umbrellas. Right from school days, umbrellas have been nothing but a burden in hands. I mean we just have two hands and holding an umbrella amounts to losing 50% of holding capacity!

So in Delhi I avoided carrying an umbrella. Whenever it would rain I would take an auto or do some emotional blackmailing until someone from the family would drop me. Umbrellas drying in the office corridor were somehow considered tacky by most of the lot. The mantra was...better to wait at the metro station for  15 minutes than bearing the burden of an umbrella. How I often felt jealous of the princesses who had a servant to carry their umbrellas!

Alas, the princess has come to Mumbai...and one can only look at rains and say"atithi tum kab jaogey?" He he...

Here, the rains rule the game. But I too wasn't willing to go for an easy surrender. For 2 days i tried managing without an umbrella thinking its not raining heavily and I can manage. The result, by the time I reach office, i am half wet, the sandals get irritating squeaky, my hair have got a new frizzy look and most importantly my specs refuse to work...wish they had wipers! Seeing my state, the office guard can't help but give a warm smile to make me feel better :-)

Throughout the day I was consoling myself the rains would stop when its time to go home. But in Mumbai, rains rule the game. By the time I boarded the taxi, I was wet & irritated in rain. Even the taxi guy looked at me in pity and said " madam umbrella bhool gaya"

So this evening my frizzy hair forced me to visit an umbrella shop. Now in Mumbai I see people buying raincoats and umbrellas like we buy bread in Delhi every morning. By the time v chose one umbrella, the guy had already sold ten! I finally settled for a blue umbrella after been thoroughly confused by the wide variety of a thing as simple as an umbrella which v dilliwallas use more when walking in sun!

The raincoats that are limited to bachcha party in Delhi r a style statement here...kids, college students, people driving two wheelers, aunties driving scooties, even the traffic police guys, all happily don their raincoats. U will get raincoats of every shape, size and style here.

After all, when the rains don't stop, y should we?

Its began to rain again...lemme go out and inaugurate my blue umbrella!

Mumbai rains are here!

My third day in Mumbai and I get a wet rainy welcome! Unlike Delhi, rains here come with its own whims and fancies. No storm, wind, dust…just clouds and rains are here, like guests who come uninvited. This time around, rains made Mumbaikars wait a lot, and finally arrived with me! Somehow all my friends have been telling me since morning – madam, you came and brought rains.

Thinking of rains, the first thing that comes to my mind is ginger tea and hot pakodas, perhaps sooji halwa as well, if mom is in a generous mood. But since everything in Mumbai has a different nomenclature, pakodas here become Bhajiyas…big dumplings of potatoes (needless to say, sweet) and onions, bound generously in gramflour batter, and deep fried. As everybody in office enjoyed Bhajiyas, I missed Delhi, where we order an assortment of onion, potato, chilli, paneer pakodas.

The good old lauki/ghiya has become dudhi here. I still am unable to understand why the vegetable vendor wraps each dudhi in plastic…if it is to save it from the rains, why such partiality towards dudhi? Hehe…

For first timers, rains may play spoilsport, but the normal Mumbaikar has befriended even the moody rains. Truly, the city never stops. While I was frowning at the sight of my sandals, spoiled in rains, my friends’ shoes were shining, despite their long travel in metro….oops locals. Aaakhir raaz kya hai? I wondered. Then a friend told me, people keep an extra pair of shoes in office, and wear plastic flip flops to work. Also, never before have I seen raincoats and umbrellas of this variety. Even spotted a guy wearing a plastic pants and enjoying the rains!

Mumbai women too know, how to tweak fashion to their convenience. Spotted many women in sarees who had tied it like a skirt, but didn’t like to miss their local train!

Throughout the day, I was looking at the rains, reading twitter updates about water logging (even the Mumbai metro wasn’t spared by rains) and wondering what would be the sight on roads in the evening. But what I saw in evening took me by surprise. Everyone went around doing their business as usual. Apart from few potholes, there were no major water logging on the roads. In Delhi, the day we have rains like this, reaching home is an endless struggle with water logging on every road.

When things don’t go the way we want them to be, we go in the cribbing mode. Perhaps we should take inspiration from people who have learnt to befriend the odds. Not even a single person in office was making faces at the sight of heavy rains. It was first major shower of the season, and Mumbaikars celebrated it like a festival with tea and Bhajiyas!

As much as I miss Delhi, I also salute the spirit of Mumbai, the city that never stops.

And before I sign off for the day, one more update…mom in law finally got her spicy food. She threatened the steward to prepare North Indian style North Indian food – hot n spicy else she will enter the kitchen and prepare herself!

She will have to wait for a few days to relish her Dilliwalla alu subzi though!

Finally, I am in Mumbai!

To all my readers and friends who thought writers block has eaten my blogging frequency, I have an update – we have moved to Mumbai. As much as I dreaded and resisted moving out of Delhi, destiny proved its sense of humor. Mr. Hubby found greener pastures in Mumbai and I had to follow suit.

So, since the last one month, I am like a cranky cow…yep…you read it right! Cranky cow, not a baby! Cranky, for obvious reasons. Delhi runs in my genes and heart and moving all the way 1400 something km away was just not acceptable to me. Cow – because no matter how much I revolt, I am a susheel, sanskari Indian wife, who prioritizes her hubby’s welfare over her choices. Transfer, packing, house are the key words running in my mind since the last one month and blogging suffered.

Before coming, everyone except me was super excited. Some think I am going to the financial mecca, others think I would be hob nobbing with the stars (as if I am the one they are waiting to give darshan!)…remaining ones have already planned their holidays in Mumbai and Goa; while all this while I wondered how would I survive without seeing my family everyday (Mr. Hubby said, “skype hai na!”)

Finally, we landed up in the Mayanagri yesterday and today I was off to work. Since morning, many people have asked me how did I find the place. I look at them for a second, then explain that it is too early to comment as I landed up yesterday only!

To a pakka Dilliwalla, Mumbai appears like a totally different place. Picture this –

1.     Everytime we are out, we are struggling with finding either the Eastern express highway or the western express highway, and I am still trying to figure how to memorize the easts and wests of the same locality.

2.    The wide, well marked, concrete roads of Lutyens Delhi are replaced by slightly narrow roads which contributes to traffic jams. The shahi Dilliwalla in me, still likes to drive though friends tell me, soon I will start preferring local trains than dealing with traffic jams.

3.    The city is always on the go. This morning, mom in law went for a walk around and all she saw was people rushing for their work. Young and old, everyone was in a hurry. MIL has been terribly missing her Dilliwalli gossip neighbour since then.

4.    People really mind their own business. In Delhi one cannot imaging moving to a flat and not having a welcome tea and introduction session at the neighbour’s place; while other Padosans hop in to know the new lady in their colony. Out here, people have a lot of their own business to mind. Good for us though, coz I never liked the ever peeping Verm aunty in the Delhi neighbourhood.

5.    If you are coming to Mumbai for the first time, get an understanding of some basic Gujrati/Marathi words, if not atleast the accent. I have to often ask routes from passersby and it takes me a minute to replay in my mind and understand what exactly s/he said!

6.    Sweetness flows…I ate Dosa last night and for the first time in my life, I had sweet sambhar. In Delhi, women can be often seen scolding subziwallas for selling them potatoes that are sweet in taste, but here, since yesterday every potato dish I had was sweet. I truly madly deeply loved the Vada Pao though!

7.    BEST buses are a treat to the eye…I even love their Bhopu and red colour! Since childhood, its in Mumbai that I have spotted a double decker bus again and I am looking forward to a ride.

8.    I still haven’t bought grocery so yet to see if the vegetable vendor understands veggie names I know or will I have to take a crash course in veggie nomenclature.

9.    Thanks to space issues, all balconies are covered and there are no pre built almirahs in houses

And now the icing on the cake...

Yesterday I went to eat Dosa. After preparing the Dosa, the vendor asks me, “madam, eat here or parcel?”. Parcel? I wondered and for a second post office, inland letters and stamps floated in my mind. Then I told him “no parcel, eat here”. After 2 seconds, a kid came and asked the vendor “Uncle, gimme a parcel”. I wondered if he would actually take out a parcel from some shelf. All he took out was a polythene bag! So that’s the parcel! I got it!

They say change is the only thing permanent in life. These are the first impressions I have. Do let me know your impressions. And keep looking for more posts in the series “Dilli to Bombay”…