Book review – Raakshas – India’s No.1 Serial Killer

Author – Piyush Jha

Publisher – Westland

Genre – Fiction

Pages – 391

Price – Rs. 295

Sneak from the cover

This thrilling narrative of a serial killer’s life and the unusual and challenging investigation to catch him, uncovers a chilling trail of unspeakable torment and cruelty – the tale of Raakshas.

The Cover

Raakshas himself welcomes readers with his bloodshot eyes and his weapon of destruction. Look into his eyes and you will definitely think twice about reading the book, especially if you are beginning to read at night!

My View

Raakshas is a touching story of an innocent boy who is forced by circumstances to become a psychopath killer. One doesn’t get to know his real name, so I will call him R. Labelled a killer at birth and blamed for his mother’s death merely marked the beginning of his life’s atrocities. There was still a lot more to come. A harrowing time with his father followed next. Brahmanand, who saw his son as a mere distraction to his ongoing research, was the major culprit in spoiling his son’s life. After all, it is the parents’ responsibility to provide an environment conducive to the child’s holistic development. The first few pages brought tears into my eyes. “How can a father be so cruel to his own son?” I kept wondering. But then, haven’t we heard stories of scientists who lost it in pursuit of their impossible inventions? The little boy’s perseverance however, impresses us throughout. Gifted with an amazingly sharp brain, the boy had it all in him to become a genius.

But, destiny had different plan for him. After months of inhuman treatment by his father, destiny gave R a chance to escape his father’s den and be united with the only mother figure to him in the big, bad world – his maternal aunt Latika. Little did he realise that the journey to his aunt’s place would instead take him to the path of being a serial killer.

On his way to his aunt’s place, little R got kidnapped by a baba, a serial killer himself. It was the years of captivity, being baba’s assistant in his heinous crimes that transformed the boy into a serial killer. Throughout the years of captivity, R just dreamt of escaping Baba’s clutches and being reunited with his aunt. Sadly, by the time this happened, his soul had already become a personification of evil.

What followed next was a story that could shake the reader to the core. One after another, the tales of his heinous crimes gave me goose bumps.

The story has a very strong message - A serial killer is not born but is made.

Almost parallel runs the story of a girl, as intelligent as R but much favored by her destiny. An event in her adolescence which could have spoiled her life forever instead became her biggest strength. The girl went on to become a super cop, which brings us our second message – We are what we choose to become, not what circumstances want us to be.

The book also highlights the side effects of a practice rampant these days – of media highlighting and exaggerating every little piece of information. Had the media not come up with a silly idea of “ranking of serial killers”, many lives could have been saved.

Grab the book, for Raakshas isn’t a book about nabbing yet another serial killer on a killing spree. It goes a step beyond and portrays all that goes around in the minds of serial killers, their fears, triggers, emotions and motivations – the face of devil inside. The parallel tracks of the lady cop and R give the story an interesting “Yin and Yang” touch.

What I loved about the book

Everything, for the story has the power to leave an impact on its readers. Being my first crime thriller I was quite hesitant but the book kept my hooked on until I didn’t finish the last page. As I was glued to the book, the courier boy and a plumber who visited my house were welcomed with my suspicious eyes. Need I say more?

What could have been better?

Many aspects of the lady cop seemed too good to be true and exaggerated to give her a heroic stature.

My rating

4/5

About the Author

Piyush Jha is an acclaimed film director, ad filmmaker and author of bestselling crime fiction novels. His films Chalo America, King Of Bollywood and Sikandar are noted for their unconventional subject matter. Currently working on a crime based TV show, Piyush’s earlier novels are Mumbaistan, Compass Box Killer and Anti Social Network.

This review is for Writers Melon 

Of Needles And Overcoming Fears

(This was published in Parentous)

Throughout my growing years, I teased my mom for one thing – whenever I would fall sick or be in pain, she would start crying. I remember once when a dog had bit me, on our way to the hospital, mom was crying more than me. She had heard how painful anti rabies injection was and she was scared about how I would tolerate the pain. As I joked that she looked more like the patient than me, she said, “You will understand my pain when you become a mother.”

Mom left me few years ago, but her words have echoed in my mind several times ever since I became a mother…

After my delivery, when my intravenous cannula was removed, I rejoiced thinking, “The pain is over!” Little did I know a new challenge awaited me – of witnessing my baby in pain during vaccination!

As the date for the next monthly vaccination drew near, anxiety gripped me...

The initial mandatory vaccines were administered by the pediatrician while I was still bed ridden. But, as the date for the next monthly vaccination drew near, anxiety gripped me. The mere thought of the needle pricking my baby’s soft skin and the imaginary sight of my little angel wincing in pain gave me goose bumps.

Continue Reading…

Basant Panchmi & School Memories

Like all new moms, I too have lost track of how days become weeks, and weeks months. When a festival is around the corner, my elder sister or my MIL act as reminders, suggesting the bare minimum rituals I should follow.

This morning, as sonny boy and I went to the park for our daily dose of Vitamin D, I was delighted to see a burst of yellow. Women dressed in yellow, yellow flowers shouting to be picked up at flowers, the familiar freshness in the air and Pandal with Ma Saraswati idol in the colony school – I didn’t take a moment to realize Basant Panchmi – Saraswati Puja is here!

While my family doesn’t practice any ritual as such, apart from wearing yellow and preparing sweet yellow pulav, Basant Panchmi occupies a very special place in my heart. Having spent 12 years in a Bengali dominated school; the festival has been a special occasion each year. After all, this was the only day in the year when we could wear the dress of our choice to school instead of the boring uniform! Unlike most kids who save the best dress for birthdays, girls in my school dressed their best on Basant Panchmi. The three day long celebrations provided us the much awaited break from classes, freedom to dress up as we liked, lot of fun, amazing Bengali sweets and bhog, and much needed blessings from Ma Saraswati before the final exams would haunt us!

A Day Before

A day before the festival, all eyes would be trained towards the school gate as we waited for Ma Saraswati idol to arrive. The moment we saw the tempo, we would leave everything and rush to the foyer. The entire school echoed with “Bolo bolo Saraswati Mai ki Jai” as we welcomed the goddess with flowers, songs and impromptu dance!

The festival

For us, this was the day of freedom, fun and festivities! Our usually over protective parents gave us the luxury of giving the school bus a miss. Instead, we girls took our sweet time to dress up our best and arrived at the school on our own, in groups. The security situation wasn’t as sorry as present, so the authorities let open the gates of the senior wings and one could enter and leave school premises at our own wish. For teenagers of a girl’s school, this was nothing short of living the college dream once a year! The senior girls would seize the opportunity to flaunt the best sarees and imitation jewellery, even as the eyes of senior teachers scrutinized the depth of their blouses! Best part would be the Pushpanjali time, when each one of us would pray to Ma for good marks and a bright career! Sounds of “Bolo bolo Saraswati Mai ki Jai” would fill the ramparts as those who waited for their turn took to dancing and singing! Wish we had mobile phones with cameras back then! The alumni also took this occasion to take blessings from Ma and thank teachers for shaping up their careers so well.

Morning gave way to the noon in no time and the aroma from the makeshift kitchen in the classroom signalled that the Bhog was ready. Our teachers displayed their culinary skills as they pampered us with the most delicious Bhog – the traditional Khichuri! After Bhog, we would dash to grab our boxes of Prasad which contained an assortment of the best Bengali sweets one could think of! 

Awwww! I miss my school!

As we progressed to senior classes, the later part of the noon became hangout time with friends at Connaught Place before we returned home.

Visarjan

This was a moment that came heavy on our hearts as the thoughts of Ma parting left us teary eyed. Moments after the tempo left the school premises, taking Ma away, we would keep looking at the gate with gloom. Then the teachers would lovingly ask us to return to our classes and be good students till Ma returned next year.

More than a decade after leaving school and more than a thousand kilometres away from school now, I still feel the fragrance of flowers and incense sticks afresh in my mind. As I recall those wonder years, I pray Ma Saraswati for blessing my little one with knowledge and creativity the way she has been generous to me.

To, the Goddess, the mother, and the power – Bolo bolo Saraswati mai ki Jai !!!

Sharing few pics of my visit to the Alma mater few years ago 

My Alma Mater

The Decor

Ma Saraswati

The lovely rangoli

Flowers in full bloom

Friends

Friends

The funny case of the LOVE-ly email

Ours was an arranged marriage. Unlike majority of my friends who boasted of love marriages, their “I Do” stories and lot of PDA (Public display of affection), mine was a rather shy affair. The only aspect I could boast of was that unlike poles attract, for we were poles apart yet we felt the sparks enough to say yes after just half an hour of meeting! Like most arranged Big Fat Indian weddings of our times, our “I Do” was a rather shy moment in front of our families. As for PDA, well before we could even break the ice, we were married, almost like a miracle!

So here we were, a newly married couple, trying our level best to know each other and bridge the gap between those unlike poles. As a new bride, I was in the “impress your hubby” mode, whether by whipping up lip smacking meals, dressing to kill, or charming him by my creative attributes.

One morning, sitting on my desk and sipping on my morning cuppa, my mind threw an amazing idea of impressing my cute, lovely and shy hubby. I used to send a Good Morning mail with an inspiring thought to my team, few friends, boss and super boss every morning. As I was drafting the Good morning mail that day, I thought, “Why not add HIM to the mailing list?” I knew he was the intellectual types. So, with all good intentions of impressing my hubby and starting his day on a beautiful note, I marked him too in the mail and hit the “Send” button.

Within seconds, I started receiving the usual replies of appreciation and Good morning wishes from my colleagues. But my eyes were desperately looking for this one name in my inbox, while my fingers promptly kept hitting the refresh button. “Would he have liked it, or thought it as yet another forward mail in his inbox?” I was curious to know the reaction.

My wait was short lived, for after few minutes, my eyes finally spotted what they had been looking for. It was a reply from him. He had loved the mail and replied, “Loved it baby, just like your cozy cuddle this morning!”

But, before I could even recover from recalling that morning “moment” we had, I was disturbed by a “Hmmm…cozy cuddle” from the next workstation! I was awakened with a start. Was someone peeping into my PC? No.

A moment later, my eyes went wide with shock looking at the mail, as if they had witnessed the sun rising from the west!

My loving hubby, impressed by my gesture didn’t waste much time in seizing this moment of praising his wife. However, it so happened that in a hurry to shower his love, he selected “Reply All” option instead of “Reply”

The rest, as you can all guess is indeed a memorable moment of my life!

His debut attempt at PDA was read by my friends, team, my boss and to my horror, even my super boss! As I saw my friends share naughty smiles and girls say “Aww, so romantic”, I felt like forcing my tomato red face into the PC screen. A moment later, my mobile flashed with his number. The poor thing had realized his mistake and apparently tried to recall the mail. But the arrow had already left the bow!

After a moment of silence on both the sides, suddenly both of us shared a laugh!

He - It just happened, I swear!

Me -Yeah, I could make that out

He – They must be teasing you na!

Me – Hmmmm (Going super conscious with all eyes on me)…they find it too romantic (almost whispering)!

He – But I loved it!

Me – What? (Whispering, with my face going cherry red by now)

He – Your morning cuddle, and oh, uh, the morning thought as well!

Me – Well, what was the thought by the way?

He – Ummmmmm

And we both burst out laughing!

The ice was melting faster than we had expected. A true soulmate is the one with whom we can share a good laugh, I had heard. This funny PDA moment proved it as well!

“This post is a part of #LoveAndLaughter activity at BlogAdda in association with Caratlane.”

Movie – Albela (1951)

Genre – Musical, Comdey

Director – Bhagwan Dada

Duration – 158 minutes

Cast – Geeta Bali, Bhagwan Dada

Music – C. Ramchandra

Written By – Bhagwan Dada

My View

As I write this review, Mr. Hubby gives me a mocking smile. Often my liking for old forgotten Hindi movies earn me the title of an alien from the old generation. But I really wanted to write about this one, and by the end of this post you shall know why.

I discovered this movie few days ago as I was discussing the good old times with Papa when mom used to sing me this lullaby.

Papa was quick to insight me that the same movie also has many famous songs including one of my favourites, Shola Jo Bhadke

This was enough enticement for the movie buff in me and so I decided to watch this movie the same night.

Like all old movies, this one too talks of dreams and aspirations among poverty. Pyarelal (Bhagwan Dada) who lives in a small rented house with his family, eats, sleeps and drinks theatre. So much is his passion for theatre that he even daydreams in his office and gets sacked for lack of seriousness at work. Those were the times when acting and creative pursuits weren’t looked high upon. As expected, he gets thrashed by his father for being a burden on his family. His only pillar of support is his younger sister Bimla who believes in his dreams and encourages him to follow his instinct. But have dreams ever helped counter poverty and hunger? 

Circumstances force Pyarelal to leave the house, leaving a crying mother blessing him success.

The big bad world of showbiz treats Pyarelal like any other struggler is treated – with rejection and disrespect. However, destiny takes him on a different track upon his chance meeting with Asha (Geeta Bali). The simple and clean hearted Pyarelal is able to make his way in Asha’s heart and is soon seen fulfilling his dream of a successful actor.

Amidst all the glitz and glamour, he is reminded one day of his promise to his mother, that he would return home one day when he becomes a successful actor. However, destiny again plays a cruel game. While on one hand, Pyarelal’s family faces a storm of troubles, the theatre company finds it best to keep him away from his poor relatives, else he might not drift away from the world of theatre. Whether Pyare is able to keep his promise to his family and maintain his stardom is for the viewer to watch and find out, but the movie touches you for its sheer simplicity and pain of a common man.

It was also a treat to discover that many songs of this movie are still afresh in our minds as the golden classics.

Trivia

Did you know this movie was the 3^rd highest grosser of 1951? You might also wanna read about Bhagwan Dada who once had a 25 room sea facing bunglow in Juhu and a fleet of 7 luxury cars, one for each day of the week, but died amidst poverty in a Dadar chawl. Albela is the movie he is best known for.

Republic Day – Just a Hashtag?

It’s that time of the year again when Rajpath looks as fresh as a new bride and Rashtrapati Bhawan resplendent with the lights of glorious 67 years of a proud republic. India celebrates its 67^th Republic Day!

For many, it’s #thattimeoftheyear again, when the tricolour ensemble in their wardrobes sees light of the day; when VIP passes for the parade are more sought after than #OnePlusOne invites; when expensive Silks and Pashminas get ready to be flaunted by Mrs. Who’s Who at VIP pavilions of India Gate; when patriotic songs are remembered to be placed as caller tunes, when the boy on the traffic signal selling flags is finally granted his wish; when Selfie sticks get ready to give a perfect #SelfieWithTricolour & when our social media profiles get buzzing with #ILoveMyIndia!

Phew!

For few, #ItsAllAboutLovingADayOff!

When I was still in school, my sister who was pursuing her journalism got an interesting assignment. They had to visit Republic Day Parade and informally ask spectators the reasons that drew them to Rajpath – was it patriotism or just a nice way of celebrating a day off? Republic day celebrations at school for me meant composing and reciting poems and speeches, which I couldn’t have done unless I felt it in me. So, I told my sister my predictions of the survey outcome. However, the results were a far cry from my expectations, for most people in general pavilions said they were there for the lovely tableau and flypast! Of Course, they were able to express themselves honestly in the absence of cameras and in the cover of anonymity. Well, this was years before mobile phones and social media were even born! It was a shock for me, the simple school kid, for we celebrated Independence Day, Republic Day, Freedom Fighter Birthdays etc with much enthusiasm in the innocent confines of our school!

Ah! The good old #AgeOfInnocence!

While last year saw us all swelling with pride at India’s #ObamaMoment, this year has been very different. Many words have been added to the common man’s vocabulary - #Intolerance, #Tolerance, #AwardWapsi, #GharWapsi, #Bigotry, #Casteism etc.

I am a common man woman with limited vocabulary, so I only understand one word - #Insensitivity; towards each other, for only then could have people been so selfish to ignore welfare of others for their vested interests. From “Man is a social animal”, the social has been brutally eaten. Mind It! This isn’t something that has happened this year, we have witnessed enough of this before too and I have blogged about few instances of #Shamelessness that irked me (The Guest Who wasn't spared, Wake Up, One evening in an auto, Letter to Santa from a Delhi Girl, Love Thy Neighbour, Delhi Nautanki, Musings of an old Dilliwala)   . For starters, insensitivity begins with people ignoring a dead man on Gurgaon Expressway and stopping only to capture his pics for their Facebook shares…#Shameless. Then there are people I have met during my weekend trips to Vrindavan who wouldn’t even care to donate had Section 80G of Income Tax Act not existed. Of course, good Samaritans walk this earth too, but the #SelfishnessAboveEverything still trends.

Meanwhile, the #SelfieWithTriColour witnesses a new high score, as does visitors to India Gate & Central Park.

As I sing this song from my childhood to my little one

I wonder where we are going wrong, for we are the lights that light up the nation.

Big words are for big people. Confused between welfare of state and welfare of their vested interests, they are busy scoring points in the publicity match. Biting more than they can chew and then chewing their words hurriedly like a gum is their past time, which most commoners are too common to make sense of.

For We, The people, it is as simple about #BeingSensitive; The Big people towards us and us towards each other. We are shouting to making ourselves heard amidst noise of their #TugOfWar.

Still waiting to find your voice? Go, take a #SelfieWithTricolour and think about a genuine caption #Straightfromtheheart.

#HappyRepublicDay

Common Cold & A Paranoid Mom

Till about 3 pm the day before, All Was Well in my house. The little one was playfully engrossed in his toys; as was the newbie mom in her laptop. Then suddenly, one sneeze changed all dynamics!

Acchooooo!

The little one sneezed with such a force that I left whatever I was doing. This wasn’t a normal sporadic sneeze; this one came with dirty souvenir for my little one that his newbie mom rushed to wipe. “Now how on earth did this happen?”, I pushed myself to think. 3 layer cloth – check, Cap  - Check, Socks – Check, Cozy Room – check. We hadn’t even gone out in the garden that day! Then from where did this uninvited guest come?

I immediately made a SOS call to my MIL and made notes so quick I had never made even during my college days! I have often heard elders criticize modern moms, who rush to the doctor at a sneeze of their little one. Not wanting to become one of them, I decided to try MIL’s advice, but it was just too much to possibly execute! 

By the time Mr. Hubby returned home (which was coincidentally early that day), little S and I looked like troubled passengers of a stranded flight. We both dashed to him for comfort. A sleepless night later, the next morning, we were sitting among many other coughing, sneezing little souls at the Paed’s clinic.

Had someone from my parents or in-laws called, I would have sounded like a failure, for I had indeed rushed to the doctor at what was regarded technically as just few sneezes. Mr. Hubby however, convinced me that as educated, modern parents, we were indeed being proactive to take professional advice before the situation worsened.

But, the words “Weak, Failure, Modern” echoed loud enough to be ignored in my mind. So, the moment our turn came, I took total charge of the conversation. Before the doctor could ask us her usual questions, my monologue had already begun; giving a detailed account of what we did, what we ate, baby poo, pee, precautions we took and home remedies tried in a jiffy. After I was done, I gave a little relaxed, triumphant smile; the way we do after we give our best shot during campus interviews! It was now the moment to be recognized as a caring, good, wise and efficient mother who had tried her best (add to this synonyms and more related adjectives and you know my feelings so well!)

Instead, I heard something like “R-E-L-A-X” (Oh I looked relaxed, didn’t I?). “You –Are-A-Mom-Now. First-Learn-To-Stop-Being-paranoid”. “You can’t keep your baby in a Kavach & Kundals” Lesson learnt – No matter how much you tried, it was impossible to get 10/10 from a teacher, doctor and an experienced mom (my paed is also a granny!)

My triumphant smile died in the wake of this new addition to the to do’s. So I have to learn to get less paranoid. But C’mon, this is my baby & I am Mother India. Can you imagine Nirupa Roy, Durga Khote, Nargis, Achla Sachdev, Kirron Kher, Kamini Kaushal or any onscreen mom looking calm and composed when her Aankhon Ka Taara (Apple Of her Eyes) gets nebulized?

But doctors only know the language of medicine, so it was futile to argue. We collected our medicines, paid the fee (for something which as per my dad, common sense and homeopathy would have cured) and came home as a happy and hopeful trio.

A typical Mother India is ready to barter her child’s trouble for his happiness and well being. However, some wishes get granted too quickly, with the mother getting the trouble even before the child is fit and fine. By the next evening, another big “Acchhooooo” roared in the house, this time by the mother! Yes, my wish had been granted, but now both of us were the victims of cold, thanks to something called virus!

Am I a melodramatic mom? Yes, in bold italics. But, somewhere behind layers of tension, concern and love lies just a simple compassionate new mom who wants to be somewhat as good as her own mom was.  After all, every girl idolizes her mom for they stand like a rock between us and troubles even when we see tears of concern rolling down their cheeks.

Leaving you with pics of these amazing onscreen moms we have grown up watching. 

Nirupa Roy

Durga Khote

Nargis

Achla Sachdev

Kirron Kher

Kamini Kaushal