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A Man Called Ove

Book Review   Title: A Man Called Ove Author: Fredrik Backman Translation from Swedish: Henning Koch Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton Ltd, London, 2015 Pages: 295   Ove is a grumpy old man. Right in the initial pages of the novel, we are informed that “People said he was bitter. Maybe they were right. He’d never reflected much on it. People also called him ‘anti-social’. Ove assumed this meant he wasn’t overly keen on people. And in this instance he could totally agree with them. More often than not people were out of their minds.” The novel is Ove’s story It is Ove’s grumpiness that makes him a fascinating character for the reader. Grumpiness notwithstanding, Ove has a lot of goodness within. His world is governed by rules, order and routines. He is superhumanly hardworking and honest. He won’t speak about other people even if such silence means the loss of his job and even personal honour. When his colleague Tom steals money and puts the blame squarely...
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The Subhuman Social Media

Illustration by Copilot Designer I disabled Facebook on my phone yesterday. There’s too much vulgarity, subhuman crudity, on it. And the first thing I read this morning was a Malayalam weekly – Samakalika Malayalam from the Indian Express group – whose editorial lamented the treatment meted out on social media to Dr M Leelavathi, renowned Malayalam writer. Leelavathi refused to celebrate her 98 th birthday because she said she was distressed by the pictures of innocent children dying of human-made hunger in Gaza. She was trolled by the Hindu right wing in Kerala for saying that. The editorial mentioned above requests the “Hindutva handles” to leave alone Leelavathi. If Kerala’s beloved poet and educationist was moved to tears by the sight of little children behaving like insane creatures as soon as they espy some food, it only reveals the deep humanity that sustained her poetry as well as her world vision. The editorial went on to mention that 20,000 children were killed by Is...

Death of Humour and Rise of Sycophancy in India

Front pages of Newspapers in Delhi on Modi's birthday Yesterday the newspapers in Delhi (and many other places too) carried full page photo of Narendra Modi to celebrate his 75 th birthday. It was sycophancy at its zenith in the history of India’s print media. At no other point in the country’s history had the newspaper industry stooped so low. The first Prime Minister of the country was a man who encouraged the media to be critical of him. Nehru appreciated cartoons that caricatured him mercilessly. Criticism, particularly in the press, helped Nehru keep his ego under check. Shankar’s Weekly was the best cartoon magazine of those times. Launched in 1948 by K Shankar Pillai, the weekly featured political cartoons, satire and humorous articles. It criticised politicians mercilessly by caricaturing or satirising them. Nehru was a prime target. And the PM wasn’t upset. On the contrary, he appreciated Shankar Pillai’s efforts to make the nation, particularly its political leade...

Modi @ 75

As Mr Narendra Modi completes 75, let me extend heartiest greetings from a faithful critic of his. May he live long and work for a better India, at least better than what he has made of it in the last decade. It is a different matter that he expelled many of his partymen at the age of 75 from active life. The leader of the RSS, the organisation that shaped Modi’s ideology, reminded Modi a few weeks back that “When you turn 75, it means you should stop now and make way for others.” Of course, we know that Modi won’t listen to anyone simply because he doesn’t consider anyone worthy of giving him counsel. I can write a voluminous book on how Modi could (and should) change himself on his 75 th birthday so that the nation will change itself revolutionarily. As a fatalist, however, I desist from doing anything of the sort and console myself that Modi ji is part of India’s current destiny. When the Saturn changes its position in the cosmic setup, India’s destiny will alter too. Wait for tha...

Simple Delights

I’ve been a bit out of sorts lately. I couldn’t do anything properly. Not even reading. My blogging met with unusual intervals and I ascribed that to writer’s block though my heart said it wasn’t. The whole mood changed today, a few minutes back. Life is so simple, sometimes. My car’s music system had stopped functioning a few weeks back. I gave my car for an earlier-than-usual service because driving had felt as dull as a movie without dialogue or food without salt ever since the music system went silent. The car was serviced but the music didn’t turn on. “You’ll have to change the speakers,” the service mechanic said. I managed to find time this morning to get the speakers changed. And my life changed radically. Happiness is so simple an affair. The young boy who was replacing the speakers turned on the stereo system as he was working and the song that came instantly was from a Malayalam movie of 1989. Let me give the link to the song and the scene in the movie below. I’m sur...