Expecting someone taller

Book review time.

This was apparently Tom Holt’s first humorous fantasy novel (Dewdette, love, did I ever thank you for introducing me to T.H. ?). I was about to insert a wiki link here for the plot synopsis, but desisted. You may search and go read it if you wish, but I wouldn’t advise that; it’s too cut and dried an article and doesn’t do justice to the book.

T.H. writes humorous fantasy in a way reminiscent of P.G. Wodehouse’s. While PGW never wrote fantasy (that I know of. He did supposedly write romantic fiction once upon a time, go figure!), what is similar is the madcap way of story telling. Odd notions and implausible events tangle with each other and form a thick knot. The characters stop, meander, think, stop thinking and generally create a ruckus in their own lives. Yet the author manages to unravel it all in the end to general satisfaction (and that includes the characters’ satisfaction too)

As this doesn’t seem like a book review so far, here’s a little bit of the plot to keep the fastidious readers’ happy. An average guy who has never excelled at anything in his life and has been overlooked and ignored by the world and his family for ever suddenly becomes the master of the world. Worse, it’s an unrecognized job as no one he knows, knows that he is responsible for the world’s well / ill being. How he manages the world and resolves his love life and other nasties is what this is all about.

The badger twisted its head painfully round, and looked at him in silence for a while. “You know,” it said at last, “I was expecting someone rather taller.”
“Oh,” said Malcolm.”Fair-haired, tall, muscular, athletic, without spectacles,” went on the badger. “Younger, but also more mature,if you see what I mean. Someone with presence. Someone you’d notice if you walked into a room full of strangers. In fact, you’re a bit of a disappointment.”

Reco : Go read if you like humorous fantasy and brit humour.

These Boots Were Made for Walking

Shall I tell you about the warm, fur lined boots I wore in winters few? They were nice and comfy and picked up cheap to face my first snow, but I couldn’t walk comfortably in them. They sure saw a lot of the wall behind the shoe closet. Or shall I tell you about the casual slipons I picked up for even cheaper, but who stayed with me miles? They covered a lot of ground, and I with them. Or how about the stilettos I daringly bought, doubting I’d wear them at all, but I did, inspite of the sharp click clack of every step on the uncarpeted office floor? And the shiny golden sparkly low heels, meant to be worn for festivities, picked up because inside every sensible woman resides a little girl who loves all the fancy glitter?

Do you want to hear about the annual pair of functional, no nonsense ‘rainy wear’ that’s a must for every Indian monsoon; it doesn’t throw up mud, you know? And the numerous other non monsoon pairs, utilitarian and plebian? Why? Only because they help a girl run and catch a bus to the places she’s going. Do you want to know about my first pair of adult sneakers, still languishing in a closet somewhere? I never could throw them out; is it because we have memories together, them and me, of traipsing in foreign places, collecting odd dirt and flotsam on the way?

Can I cuss the formal black pair that fell apart on me in a strange country where no one else seemed to wear my shoe size? Oh the superglue that I depended on for long! Or those wonderful looking sandals that turned traitor the moment they came home with me, and gave the worst case of shoe bite in the history of all shoeland? Or those delicate strappy things that always look so good but should come with a warning “Do not walk with these on, you’re sure to break something.”

Or how about we speak of the countless other pairs that are not mine, yet? They lie on the shop shelves, waiting for me to journey with them, to places we have both never been yet.

Written for the daily post’s prompt: These boots were made for walking.

A pinch of you

This week’s writing challenge is absolutely gorgeous. It asks for ‘your best recipes’ .. all the bits and pieces and quirks and foibles and loves that make you you. And while I am not writing out a recipe about me (not yet, not yet, anyway), here’s what I made up about my niece, who I totally gush over as can be seen. And I loved writing this so much, I figure there are going to be a lot more posts on this recipe theme. A lot more.

Good things come in small packages. Here’s the littlest one. This is a work in progress, so the recipe and ingredients will change over time and places and reactants and scenarios.

This small package is currently all knees and elbows, which seem about a hundred. Count multiple times until you get the figure down to two of each. Once that’s settled, look for the 2 really lovely large eyes. What these hint towards I can’t tell you, but it has been known to range from mischief, tears, smiles, wonder, absolute happiness to coyness as well. Make no mistake, there is a lot more, and, you can’t choose. You take what you get.

Next, voice. Figures, right? After the sight comes the sound. Varies from the happyish head over heels babble to the soft slop of the sucked thumb to the rare angry rageful shout. Oh and sometimes an excited scream, when objects of affection like mama and baba and mango pulp are nearby.

These major things when you mix together, you get a sweet armful of baby to cootchie coo with. No wait, you don’t get that armful of baby, ‘coz that armful pulls your hair and pushes out legs and demands to be set down, at which point those hundred knees and elbows are promptly put into motion and used to scarper away at a speed of 100 times light to act out another mischief.

Y’all, (if there’s a y’all still remnant) , I’m breaking away from my usual topics and rants to post something different.

My brother, whose links and art I had last posted here, has now put up on his blog;

[ART] Call for Topics : For a cause

So read this — If you, or anyone you know, suffers from any kind of disorder / disability and would like to use my Art towards some positivity and happiness, please drop me a comment below and i will draw a silhouette-painting for you. ….

You can read the full post on his blog, and yes, he does this as a hobby and will not charge anything.

So go ahead; read, see, comment; if you like the concept and the art, share with your people, put it on FB, twitter, whatever. ‘Coz a little bit of good can go a long way.

Graffiti/Gyaan

Seen on a board at an Autorickshaw parking place.

“You’re soul responsible for your own vehicle.”

Very, very bad English. Or very, very good philosophy. Take your pick.

Lost my mojo, need a refill. Anyone know where I can buy a cuppa?