My Favourite Authors

My first ever friend (guess we were so small, we may not even remember when we first set eyes upon each other) Kavita put me up to this. Seeing our mutual love for books and reading, it is no wonder that I am feeling excited even before I start writing this. Ahem…let us forget that fact that it has been over 2 years that K tagged me. Given the early start I got into the world of reading, it is no easy task to pick and choose a list of favourite authors out of the entire host I have read. Having gone through K’s list, I can safely say I am going to be repeating many of those and I am glad there is no number limit on this. ☺

While I don’t remember the very first books I must have read, I do remember that my earliest fond memories include books. Like all kids of my generation, I went through a regular diet of Enid Blyton and while her name has lately been tainted by people finding racial overtones in her books, she will always be responsible for introducing me to reading and making me love it – be it the Famous Five, Secret Seven, The Ragamuffin series or the slightly more grown up Five Find-outers and Dog series. And even now I am leaving out many others of the magical worlds she created for want of space!

Another series that comes to mind of another “author” is The Three Investigators. Always with an introduction from the famed Alfred Hitchcock, the concept of these teenage boys running their amateur detective agency was legend. Throw in the brains of Jupiter Jones, the brawns of Pete Crenshaw, the organization of Bob Andrews, a few fast chases, narrow escapes from the bad guys and last minute brainwaves and many afternoons went by very happily in their presence.

Now I come to the books that literally ruled my early and childhood years and changed the way I looked at mystery and adventure books forever – The Hardy Boys! The first Hardy Boys gifted to me by a older cousin sister made me seek them out as soon as I was done with that one and I felt as one with the Hardy brothers, Chet, Biff, Phil, Jerry and of course Callie and Iola when they went on their super excited adventures. The small fact that the brothers did not get a year older (till they aged by a whole year when the Case Files started) didn’t bother me in the least. I remember my neighbour in my Khar apartment building who owned the entire original hardbound Hardy Boys series and how he very kindly indulged this 8-year old who would devour one book in about 2-3 days and be back for the next! When the Case Files came out in my early teens, it made the atmosphere in the books much more grimmer with people actually getting killed and not just kidnapped but the tight storyline always had me glued.

The first “adult” book I read at the tender age of 13 was Kane & Abel by Jeffrey Archer. Took me a while but Lord Archer became one of my favourite authors over time and I can profess to have read all of his books over the years though some of his recent efforts seemed to lack the punch his earlier books had. In the similar genre, covering a lot of ground in terms of world history and seamlessly merging it into fiction was Ken Follett, another writer who I count amongst my faves. Sidney Sheldon while considered low grade by many also ruled the roost for me for some time.

Talking about merging history with fiction, I discovered James Michener a few years back on the recommendation of a blogger who has become a friend (you know who you are). Michener is unique in his storytelling in that while his books are really long and detailed, they are literally unputdownable and you are swept away in life and times of the rich world he creates in each of his masterpieces with intricate detail and research. Some of my favourites by him areThe Source (history of Israel), Poland andCentennial. If you like books with a lot of information, details and history then these are the books for you.

Two authors that give me my fix of high adrenalin action with fast paced action with all the bells and whistles of modern firepower and military gadgets are Mathew Reilly and Lee Child. Reilly’s Shane Schofield and Jack West Jr. and Child’s Jack Reacher are men you look up to at multiple levels and aspire for some of their qualities in the face of insurmountable odds. The best books for a short flight or a day you want to spend with a quick read.

Now I come to a genre that while I took my own time to warm up to it, has turned into my most liked genre ever – fantasy fiction! Obviously, this list has to start with JK Rowling and her Harry Potter series and how badly I wished that I had got a shot at living in that parallel world for a while. It was heartbreaking when the 7^th book finally got over and I had to return to a world sans Harry Potter. While it is much older book and had been in existence since the early 1900s, it shot to the limelight when the first movie of the trilogy released and many fantasy fans from my generation were treated to the magic of The Lord of the Rings. I remember buying a copy of the 3 books merged into a single volume immediately and proceeding to devour it from cover to cover. Since then, I have re-read this book about 4 times (yes, call me crazy) and also gone out on a limb and bought all other books by this king amongst authors includingThe Hobbit, Unfinished Tales, The Silmarillion, The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun and not once have I regretted the purchases. A more recent but just as strong pull has been towards George R R Martin and his famed Game of Thrones series. Needless to say, these 3 authors were enough to start a lifelong love affair with the genre and all the fare it afforded me.

While I am no medical person, but just like K, Robin Cook has had me hooked to his writing and hanging on to every word! Medical thrillers like his brings to mind another fabulous author Patricia Cornwellwith her trademark forensic investigations mixed with crime – can’t but not love them!

A few authors / books have been more recent discoveries – Murakami (abstract but blindingly beautiful), The Millenium Series (3 by Steig Larsson, 2 as yet by David Lagercrantz – Lisbeth Salander always leaves you wanting more and then even more), Keigo Hagashino (one of the best crime / mystery writers I have read, even translated from Japanese). Keigo’s The Devotion of Suspect X was spine tingling not only with its intricate plot but the revelation at the end! Many would have already read and loved The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak but I read it very recently.

This post would not be complete without mentioning some of my most favourite classics, the likes of Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility (Jane Austen), Arthur Conan Doyle (creator of arguably my most favourite literary character of all time –  can go on and on about him but maybe in a fresh post), the grand dame of mystery and crime, Agatha Christieand... ahem...let us stay with these for now.

Eric Segal with his Love Story and Doctors! Clive Cussler with Dirk Pitt! Khaled Hosseini who changed Afghanistan and made it more humane and warm for me forever!

How can I forget our very own Indian authors in this already lengthy list? Vikram Seth won me over with his mammoth masterpiece A Suitable Boy; can’t wait to read it again! Arundhati Roy with her haunting and beautiful The God of Small Things. Amitava Ghosh with The Hungry Tide; this book made me marvel how words could be used so beautifully to describe life in the Sunderbans and the tragic end made me gasp at the futility of it all. One of the few Indian authors who went and wrote a series and rocked at it, Ashok Banker (his Ramayana and Mahabharata series both changed how I felt about these epics). Amish, who picked up the mythology trail and gave it his own twist with the Vayuputra trilogy and now is 2 books into his own version of the Ramayana.

Given the number of books I now own and have not read as yet (yes yes, I know!) and the number of authors I’ve had the privilege to read and love, this post could go on and on and on if you know what I mean. So I’d rather end here, wallow in this warm happy feeling I’m in the throes of when thinking of and writing about so many prized authors and books and let this post (which my dear friend, K tagged me to do at least 2 years ago) see the light of day! Happy reading. ☺

Sir

I stopped in my tracks! Was this really G sir? Since I was still some distance from the grocery shop, I still wasn’t sure.

Those were days when parents believed that schools were just too crowded to really understand what was being taught and teachers were too caught up managing the class to do justice to teaching. So Sir as we called G sir was the ideal solution in these so-called crucial years of our education.

Sir was a veteran teacher and had a piercing gaze behind thick glasses that could literally burn into an errant student. He never raised his voice; its timbre was enough to command our attention, fear and grudgingly our respect too. His teaching methodology was more logic-oriented than our school’s “by rote” teaching. Sir would make sure the concepts behind the subject matter were made clear and help figure out the rest for ourselves. His notes, tests and assignments were exhaustive and written in his own hand before being photocopied and passed on to us. The tension in the air during each of his tests was palpable. He would sit at the head of the table and look around while we literally and figuratively sweated with our answer sheets.

I remember the comfortable trackpants and t-shirts he used to wear always. I remember him scanning school report cards after exams and the shiver down my spine then. I remember his agitation at what he termed incorrect concepts taught us by school teachers and threatening to castigate the said teacher. I also remember the kindly twinkle in those gray-brown eyes, the thick moustache and large slurpy noise made while sipping on his customary mug of tea. I remember him taking us out for a picnic to a nearby beach during 10th grade, the last time we met as a batch.

Whenever I run into any old batchmates or even other students lucky enough to be tutored by Sir, we realize we actually revered and loved him for what he had been to us - a great teacher! Funnily, none of us had really kept in regular touch with him after school.

I’d reached the shop; it WAS sir. The glasses were still thick, the moustache white but still thick. I smiled and he smiled back, “How are you, Sachin?”. I looked fondly at the frail but still great man and said “I’m well, Sir! And you?”

A Road Less Travelled

Biking lore has it that there is no greater joy than bombing down a long road with a strong wind whistling in your ears, trees and open countryside flashing by and the strong steady beat of your machine keeping time to your heartbeat. I had read about it, heard about it and also watched versions of it in films and on TV. But it is rightly said that till you do it yourself, you can’t understand what the big deal is all about.

I’ve owned a RE Thunderbird 350 for just over 3 years now and have ridden it in and around town quite a bit. This also included 3 “short” rides of about 70-80 km (2 with my bhai - S’s brother to Manor and Vashind respectively and a few rides with the Enfielder’s riding group and friends). These rides gave me a taste of what it was to really get out there and ride hard. This post was written about one such ride with the Enfielder’s in Dec 2016. Yes, it is a late post but people who know me also know how I can be with finishing posts that I start.

At that point, I jumped at the chance of a much longer ride (as compared to other rides I had been on till then), again with the Enfielder’s, to Jawhar / Mokhada; this one would roughly be about 120-130 kms each way so in effect more than double the distance as compared to any of my previous rides.

The ride was to happen on Dec 24^th 2016, the day before Christmas and hence a lesser turnout was expected. I reached the meeting point at 5.15 am and over the next hour and a half, more and more riders joined in taking the count of bikes to 19. Since this was to be an “open” ride, there were a few non-RE bikes including a Harley, a KTM, a Honda and another Honda Unicorn. While waiting for everyone, most of us were giving each other’s bikes the usual once over, checking out the modifications made as well as aesthetic changes that made each RE so unique in character and if I may use the word, personality. A riding group is great example of homogeneity in diversity and the Enfielder’s are no exception; caste, creed, gender, age, profession and background all take the backseat and all riders come together with a single-minded love for riding. The camaraderie is simply amazing to experience and I feel privileged to be part of this band of brothers and sisters.

The ride began post a briefing by the group lead where he laid down the ground rules while riding. On longer rides with a large group of bikers, it is essential that everyone is in sync. This is not only to ensure the safety of each and every rider but also to maintain the high standards and the spirit of teamwork embodied by the group. At 7 am, we set out along NH – 8 towards Virar in single file with the leader leading the pack. The speed picked up once we crossed the China Creek bridge as the rising sun made its presence felt from our right. It was a cold morning and none of the protective gear we had on including riding jackets, gloves, balaclavas and helmets could keep the chill from creeping into our arms and legs. Not that this dampened our enthusiasm in any way!

The sight of all the bikes in a perfect single file thundering their way along a good road is poetry in motion and only experiencing it can make one understand the thrill that a biker feels when on one such ride. Along the way, we passed many small towns on both sides of the highway and without fail, heads turned in unison to see us ride past, wistful smiles on the faces of the teenaged boys and the younger men. Before long we were approaching the Toll naka after Virar and there was a massive traffic snarl on the opposite side with huge trucks and buses blocking the entire entry towards Mumbai. This had led to traffic also spilling over to the wrong side (our side) and the right most lane was a long line of trucks and left most a long line of cars coming from the wrong side. The overall effect was a choke up so bad that it was difficult to even manoeuvre our bikes through. After a while, using the small gaps in between the larger vehicles, the bikes managed their way out of the mess onto a relatively clear area. In the process, I had my right side rear-view mirror cracked when a truck brushed past it.

After a short break on clearing the obstacle, we resumed our ride and very soon we were crossing the Manor flyover and taking a right off the highway. The road we were on now was good and undulating with lot of sharp curves and ascending continuously. Both sides we could only see well tended fields stretching away and bordered by mountains on one side. Riding here was extremely enjoyable but at the same time we had to keep both eyes on the road given the sudden twists and turns and the quick moving occasional traffic from the opposite side.

Biking, like many other pursuits that involve concentration, grows on you gradually until it finally becomes muscle memory. Your bike becomes an extension of your body and responds immediately to the smallest of actions on your part, reflexively or otherwise. This is when your mind is clear and there no idle thoughts to distract you from your primary objective of riding. Your responses are instant and come without any conscious effort from your side. It is this state that every rider worth his ilk craves for and when in it, lives a truly transcendental moment.

After a lovely ride of about 60 km on this road, we reached a small eatery on the outskirts on Jawhar village. We downed breakfast ravenously (nothing like a long ride to whet appeties). Hunger pangs satisfied, we rode through Jawhar village and then onto a narrow winding road leading downhill. This road was pretty much broken down and the loose gravel and stones made the going even tougher. Having said that, the view in places was spectacular though we had to keep our eyes on the road for the most part. A ride of about 20-25 minutes brought us to our destination, a tiny hamlet.

After spending some time there, we set out for the journey back home, again in single file just as we came. We stopped at Jawhar while a few of us went to replenish their fuel tanks and then rode back the way we had come. Luckily, by then the traffic had cleared up and the ride back was smooth all the way upto China Creek with us being able to ride at a consistent speed of 80-90 km all the way. I reached home for a late lunch with my heart full of what I had seen and experienced during the ride. Given my experience of the rides that followed this one, I can safely say that riding is here to stay!! Maybe someday I will ride in the Himalayas after all.... mid life crisis or not....