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Category: Excerpts

Take a close-up look at what went on behind the scenes in Maharashtra elections 2019

Posted on by penguin

On 28 November 2019, Uddhav Thackeray, the Shiv Sena chief, was sworn in as the eighteenth chief minister of Maharashtra. This event marked the culmination of a high-voltage political drama that had the entire nation glued to their television sets for days on end. With no party being able to claim a majority in the assembly, President’s Rule was imposed in the state. This book takes its readers through the twists and turns of the dramatic political crisis that unfolded as Maharashtra waited for its chief minister.

What really went on behind the scenes?

With access to inside sources and private conversations, this book reveals the hitherto untold story of this political drama, with a comprehensive overview of the state’s politics in the last few decades.

Read below an excerpt from the book:

 

After leaving the Maha Vikas Aghadi meeting at the Nehru Centre (Worli) on 22 November 2019, Ajit Pawar arrived at his Churchgate residence. He again left the house at around 10.30 p.m. He asked his driver to stop on the way. He then asked the driver to return to his house with the car. Pawar stepped into another car and left for the western suburbs. Around the same time, Fadnavis also left his chief ministerial convoy and, in a different vehicle, arrived at the Hotel Sofitel in BKC, around midnight. Both leaders chose to avoid the public glare and media attention. They entered the five-star luxury hotel from a back door. It was an hour-long meeting. After hearing the name of Uddhav Thackeray as a possible candidate for the position of the chief minister of Maharashtra, Devendra Fadnavis panicked and informed Ajit Pawar that they had to take the oath the very next day, on 23 November 2019, at Raj Bhavan. Ajit Pawar asked him about President’s Rule and other procedures and requested Fadnavis to not be in a hurry. Ajit Pawar told Fadnavis that Sharad Pawar had given the green signal but the final discussion was yet to happen. However, according to an NCP leader who spoke with the author, Fadnavis told him that discussions could take place later.According to Fadnavis, it was of utmost importance to take the oath as soon as possible and then resolve other pending matters.

Meanwhile, Ajit Pawar had come to know that his uncle was reluctant to align with the BJP. A person close to Ajit Pawar said to this author that while planning the formation of the government with the Shiv Sena and the Congress, the state NCP president Jayant Patil’s name was finalized for the position of the deputy chief minister with the home portfolio. It was a big shock for Ajit Pawar. There seemed to be a plan afoot to systematically sideline Ajit Pawar, and to later bring in Supriya Sule as the chief minister of Maharashtra for the half term once Uddhav Thackeray’s two and a half years were over . . . It seemed like the end of Ajit Pawar’s career.

Perhaps, therefore, Ajit Pawar also panicked and decided to go ahead with what must have seemed to be his last resort—joining hands with the BJP despite his uncle’s reluctance. …

Ajit Pawar and his close aide had called the thirty-eight NCP legislators in Mumbai and had asked them to assemble at Dhananjay Munde’s bungalow in front of the Secretariat House (Mantralaya) at 12.30 a.m. Sunil Tatkare, Dhananjay Munde and Praful Patel had been kept in the loop. …While leaving their own constituencies, the NCP legislators started calling each other, mentioning that Ajit Pawar had called them for a meeting. It turned out that the other legislators who were not a part of the thirty-eight had no clue about this meeting in Mumbai. … Finally, out of thirty-eight, only fifteen NCP legislators reached Mumbai. This was perhaps the first signal that Ajit Pawar’s coup would not be a cakewalk.

The NCP chief, Sharad Pawar, got wind of this development around 12.30 or 1 a.m. on 23 November. At Raj Bhavan, the engineers had asked the sound and microphone system operators to remain there only. This news spread and there were suspicions that something was up at Raj Bhavan. The NCP legislators who were directly in touch with Sharad Pawar informed him that Ajit Pawar had called them for a meeting. However, after speaking with Sharad Pawar, many of them decided not to attend the meeting. Pawar thus had an idea about his nephew’s plans, but he remained doubtful about its success. Later, around 3 a.m., on Saturday, Pawar sought an update on how many legislators were siding with Ajit Pawar. He knew that if only these fifteen legislators went with his nephew that would not help him to form the government. The BJP had 105 seats and the support of fifteen independent legislators; it needed at least twenty-five to thirty legislators to cross the 145 mark. Ajit Pawar teaming up with the BJP would not only be a fiasco but he would also lose his credibility

As per his interview with ABP Majha, Sharad Pawar said that he went to bed late, around 3 a.m., at Silver Oak, hardly a fifteen-minute drive from Raj Bhavan. Around the same time, Devendra Fadnavis was getting ready to take the oath as chief minister of Maharashtra for a second time. As per a local television channel, around 4 a.m. in the morning, Fadnavis and his wife, Amruta Fadnavis organized a mirchi havan (a sacred ritual around a fire), which was performed by the priests from Nalkheda’s Baglamukhi temple in Madhya Pradesh. Baglamukhi is a tantric deity in Hinduism. Fadnavis was told that this same havan was performed to save the Harish Rawat government in Uttarakhand. When the Rawat government lost the majority in the house, his brother Jagdish Rawat rushed to the Baglamukhi temple to perform the mirchi havan and, eventually, apparently, Rawat was able to save his government. Since then, this temple town had become famous among politicians and businessmen. The report of the channel stated that Fadnavis was convinced that if this mirchi havan was performed by him at Varsha Bungalow, his official residence in Mumbai, he would again be chief minister of Maharashtra. Earlier also, Fadnavis had conducted the same mirchi havan on several occasions to retain the chief minister’s chair whenever it was in trouble. Once the havan was done, the tantriks were paid dakshina (donation) and they left for Madhya Pradesh; their return journey was coordinated by Prasad Lad.

It was time for Fadnavis to get ready for his second swearing-in ceremony at Raj Bhavan. Rather than choosing his favourite blue jacket, he had, as per the instructions of the tantrik, opted for the colour black to ward off evil spirits. Ajit Pawar, as leader of the NCP’s legislative party, had with him two original copies of the signatures of the fifty-four NCP legislators, in Marathi and in English. A copy of the list was handed over to Maharashtra’s chief secretary, Ajoy Mehta, who was waiting at Varsha Bungalow. As per an Indian Express report dated 2 December 2019, Mehta had been specially flown in from Delhi to expedite the Devendra Fadnavis–Ajit Pawar swearing-in ceremony on 23 November.

Get your copy of Checkmate here

What is dry fasting and why should you do it?

Posted on by prhi-dev

‘All the vitality and all the energy I have comes to me because my body is purified by fasting’

—Mahatma Gandhi

You must always turn to nature when you are sick or afflicted with disease. Nature holds all the answers, and when you align yourself with it, you heal and recover. Dry fasting is one such answer. Dry fasting is complete abstinence from food and water for a particular window during the day, followed by breaking the fast in a specific manner. This window during which one fasts is called the elimination phase, and the window during which one eats is called the building phase.

Dry fasting—or absolute fasting or Hebrew fasting— comes naturally to animals that are sick and wounded. They retire to a secluded place and fast until the body is restored to normal. it’s their natural instinct to refuse food during this time of recovery. At the most, they partake only of water and medicinal herbs. Ever seen a sick cat eat grass? The body is intelligent enough to heal. When the crisis is over, the appetite returns naturally. Humans also have fasting instincts, just like animals. but, unfortunately, when we fall sick, in most cases we fail to follow nature. We continue to eat food, even if in small amounts, and suffer because of it.

The Dry Fasting Miracle|| Luke Coutinho and Sheikh Abdulaziz Bin Ali Bin Rashed Al Nuaimi

Go back a thousand years. What did the early man do? Since food was scarce, they could only feast when they hunted—otherwise they fasted. This evolutionary adaptation has made our bodies efficient at fasting even in this era. if one observes children carefully—and even adults, for that matter—the moment they get sick or hurt, their appetite is what drops first. By switching on its healing mechanism, the body uses its natural intelligence to protect us. The appetite is lost for healing to take place as the immune system requires a lot of energy.

One of my clients, Neha Gupta, wrote to me saying that she had completed seventeen hours of fasting yesterday and thirteen-and-a-half hours today. She said she could never have imagined that she could dry-fast and that, too, with no hunger pangs, as she is known in her family as someone with no control over her appetite. She feels calmer now and more composed, with clarity of thought, but, most importantly, she says she feels happy!

The body is made up of five elements: Earth, Water, Fire, air and Ether. Fasting cleanses the element of Ether. During dry fasting, all vital forces are engaged in cleansing the body. It should be understood that the fast in itself does not bring about a new vital force but removes toxins in the body, which are the real cause of ill health. In the case of a disease, however, dry fasting is most beneficial when one practises it right from the initial stage.

Well, this is just the beginning of what dry fasting does. Read on to know more about the ancient wisdom behind the practice.

From beauty to general well-being, discover the miracle of dry fasting and the route to a new you in Luke Coutinho and Sheikh Abdulaziz Bin Ali Bin Rashed Al Nuaimi’s book, The Dry Fasting Miracle. Get your book here.

A poignant story of love and fealty, treachery and valour!

Posted on by prhi-dev

The Manipuri writer Binodini’s Sahitya Akademi Award-winning historical novel The Princess and the Political Agent tells the love story of her aunt Princess Sanatombi and Lt. Col. Henry P. Maxwell, the British representative in the subjugated Tibeto-Burman kingdom of Manipur.

A poignant story of love and fealty, treachery and valour, it is set in the midst of the imperialist intrigues of the British Raj, the glory of kings, warring princes, clever queens and loyal retainers. Reviving front-page global headlines of the day, Binodini’s perspective is from the vanquished by love and war, and the humbling of a proud kingdom. Its sorrows and empathy sparkle with wit and beauty, as it deftly dissects the build-up and aftermath of the perfidy of the Anglo-Manipuri War of 1891.

Here is an excerpt from the book!

Sanatombi saw Manipur’s last war first-hand. She witnessed as a young child the bitter rivalries of the princes, their quarrels, the entanglements of politics. She had seen it all: the fears, the sorrows, the consultations, the talks.

And there were many internal matters of the palace. She saw the splendid throne her grandfather his lordship Chandrakirti sat on for thirty-six years. But she did not get to live in the palace for very long. She was given in marriage at a young age to a man called Manikchand from the Nongmaithem family. There was a reason for this.

One day the Grand Queen Mother summoned Jasumati, consort of her royal grandson Crown Prince Surchandra and said, ‘My dear, keep a close eye on your daughter. She is wilful and is going to be a handful. It is not enough to be kind-hearted. It will not do to be an accommodating and accepting worm of a person. You do not have any male offspring. The astrologers also say your daughter is of strong birth. I want to find a good match for her and get her married. What do you think?’

‘The Grand Queen Mother needs only to instruct us. What can your humble servant say? After you inform your royal grandson, I defer to whatever the Divine Majesty and the Grand Queen Mother decide,’ replied the meek Lady of Satpam.

Jasumati was a gentle woman. No one in the palace talked about her much. She may have had her disappointments and sorrows but she expressed them to no one. Most people in the palace did not even know of her existence. Her senior sister-wife Premamayi, Lady of Ngangbam, dominated all. Even though Premamayi was not the first wife of Surchandra, she overshadowed all—and so it must be. It was only to be

expected that the clever rises above the many. It might be said that Jasumati merely gave birth to her daughter, for Sanatombi spent most of her time with her co-mother the Lady of Ngangbam, and the Grand Queen Mother. She only came home to sleep and her mother barely got to see her at all. She spent her days going from one household in the palace to another. Jasumati worried about her too. She knew her daughter was unruly, strong-willed and driven to win. It would have been better if she had been a boy, she thought to herself. Time and again Sanatombi would cause an uproar and stir up trouble. Even when as a mother she could not bear it any longer she could not beat Sanatombi or discipline her, for the Grand Queen Mother stood as her bulwark. The Grand Queen Mother, Lady of Meisnam, doted excessively on her great-grandchild. And then she says—Watch your daughter closely, when it is she who allows her to run wild . . . —but who could she have said this to? There was no one who could dare to talk back to the Grand Queen Mother, the Lady of Meisnam. So, even though she followed all palace protocol with great care, she suffered defeat at the hands of Sanatombi; she weakened when it came to her. Her great-grandmother favoured the unruly Sanatombi.

One day when Sanatombi had grown up a bit, she said, ‘I will play kang, Grand Queen Mother.’ ‘Of course, my grandchild shall play. And who will be the kang teams?’ The Grand Queen Mother arranged it all. The court shuffleboard teams were Hijam Leikai and the palace. They gathered only the prettiest girls among them, both the palace and Hijam Leikai. They established many rules—no borrowing of pucks, no throwing of pucks in the air, and suchlike. The shuffleboard court was polished with fresh milk. There was a lot of noisy activity. Sanatombi was going to play her first game of court shuffleboard at the palace. But as the sorry tale unspooled, Sanatombi came to her royal great-grandmother, her face red with fury, and demanded, ‘Grand Queen Mother, beat Lukhoi. He has stopped us from playing kang, he says we cannot play.’

A little while later, there was a great hue and cry. ‘Sanatombi has bitten Prince Lukhoi! Oh no, what is to be done!’

The matter was this. Prince Lukhoi had barred Sanatombi when she arrived to play at the shuffleboard court. Lukhoi was born to the Lady of Ngangbam, wife of Surchandra. The Lady of Ngangbam was not only clever but she had even produced a male offspring, and one day, sooner or later, Lukhoi could ascend the throne at Kangla. Even though he was a child, Lukhoi was well aware of this. His unthinking caregivers and attendants never failed to remind the child of it, and so he was very headstrong. He and Sanatombi were not that far apart in age.

He had come in while Sanatombi and her friends were noisily busy in the shuffleboard court and said, ‘Is it true you all are going to play kang, Royal Elder Sister? You may not play.’

‘Why not?’
‘Because I am telling you. You cannot.’
‘And who are you? Should I stop just because you do not

allow it? It is none of your business. I am doing it. What are you going to do about it?’

The Princess and the Political Agent|| Binodini

‘You cannot do as you like.’ ‘And why not?’
‘I am Prince Lukhoi.’
‘And I am Sanatombi.’

‘I am the male offspring—you are female.’
‘What attitude, Mr Male Offspring!’
Sanatombi flared up in anger. It was true she was a daughter. A daughter had no claim upon the throne at Kangla. But she did not accept this; she did not accept being told she could not do as she wanted. She did not know that her mother who only had daughters was not considered a blessed woman. It was especially true in the palace. How was she any different from a barren woman? Her birth mother lived choked in secret, her throat constricted, dry. It was not as if Sanatombi had not sometimes heard her mother heave a deep sigh. But she never found out why. The Grand Queen Mother had never once said to her face, ‘You are a female; you are of inferior destiny.’ She had said, ‘Now, there’s my great-granddaughter, now that’s my great-granddaughter.’ But sometimes late at night, her mother Jasumati said to her quietly, ‘Sanatombi, you are a daughter, so conduct yourself with that knowledge … … … .’ What was it she said? Sanatombi, her thoughts wandering somewhere else, paid her scant heed. Lukhoi not allowing her to play court shuffleboard enraged Sanatombi no end.

Sanatombi said, ‘So what if you are a male?’

‘I am stopping you from playing kang, that’s what,’

Lukhoi answered with attitude. He was also just a boy at the time. It was around that age just before youth when boys are at their most obnoxious.

Sanatombi said, ‘What is it that you want?’ ‘Let Hijam Ibemhal play on the palace team.’ ‘Oh really? The one from Hijam Leikai?’ ‘Even so.’

‘Oh, is that why you are coming and sticking your nose in?’

‘Why did you go to Grand Queen Mother without telling me first you were playing kang?’

‘Meaning?’

‘You have to inform me first—I was going to rehearse my dance here. If you want to play kang here, you have to inform me first.’

‘Your dancing goes on in the women dancers’ court. Has this male offspring no shame, being in the women dancers’ court?’

‘Men should be part of the women dancers’ court. You cannot play kang, and that is that.’ Saying this, he plunked himself down cross-legged in the middle of the shuffleboard court. Smoothened and polished for many days beforehand, the shuffleboard court shone like a mirror. It was not to be stepped upon. Sanatombi could not bear it any longer. She leapt at him and grabbed his hair. The two fought, they could not be pulled apart.

Suddenly Lukhoi yelled, ‘She bit me! The witch, the witch!’

Sanatombi went off to tell the Grand Queen Mother. Lukhoi was left crying, yelling ‘She-Demon, She-Demon’ at her. ‘She-Demon’ was Sanatombi’s hated nickname.

All hurried towards the quarters of the Grand Queen Mother. Sanatombi’s mother, the Lady of Satpam, heard and came running. She lashed out at her child and hit her. She struck out at her wildly. Sanatombi did not cry. She stood rock- still. The others separated them. Hearing of this, Sanatombi’s nurse came running and put her arms around her child.

Sanatombi said, ‘Of course, I beat him up. Can he do as he pleases just because he’s a male offspring? I will beat him, I will keep on beating him.’

‘Look at the mouth on her.’ Her mother tried to hit her again. The Grand Queen Mother tried to separate them. Then Sanatombi went and stood by the Grand Queen Mother, watching. She was very pleased with herself.

Lukhoi’s mother, the Lady of Ngangbam, arrived.
Laughing, she said, ‘Do not beat her, sister-wife. Why make a big thing of a matter between children?’ Saying this, she examined her child’s wounds. She did not mean what she said, for she was upset.

‘Please do as you see fit, elder sister-wife. I am not going to be able to handle this girl. Look how she has bitten the child on his arm … Here, let Mother take a look.’

The Lady of Ngangbam laughed and said, ‘Of course you should beat him, my child. How can he be disrespectful to

his older royal sister? Lukhoi, say you are sorry to your older sister. Why did you try to destroy my daughter’s kang court? What right does a boy have to do that.’ She pretended to blame her son.

‘Why should I kowtow when I did no wrong?’ ‘How he lies and says he did no wrong!’

They went at each other again. The Lady of Ngangbam stopped them, laughing. They made light of the matter but both the Lady of Ngangbam and the Lady of Satpam each knew what the other was thinking.

There were countless incidents and uproars like this because of Sanatombi. The girl-bearing Jasumati conducted herself with great discretion. But male offspring or female did not matter to Sanatombi. She did as she pleased.

 

Midnight Misgivings

Posted on by Penguin India

A Burning by Megha Majumdar is an electrifying debut novel about three unforgettable characters who seek to rise to the middle class, to political power, to fame in the movies.

One is Jivan, a Muslim girl from the slums accused of executing a terrorist attack on a train because of a careless comment on Facebook. The second is PT Sir, an opportunistic gym teacher who hitches his aspirations to a right-wing political party, only to find his own ascent linked to Jivan’s fall. And the third is Lovely, an irresistible outcast who has an alibi that can set Jivan free-but at the cost of everything she holds dear.

The excerpt below marks the starting moment of the adversity Jivan will face, as well as, the beginning of understanding lovely’s life.

 

Jivan

A hand reached out of the dark and dragged me up in my nightie. I screamed and fought, believing it was a man come to do what men do. But it was a policewoman.

My father, on the floor his throat dry and his painful back rigid, mewled. Nighttime turned him into a child.

Then I was in the back of a police van, watching through the wire mesh a view of roads glowing orange under streetlamps. I exhausted myself appealing to the policewoman sitting in front of me: “Sister, what is happening? I am a working girl. I work at Pantaloons. I have nothing to do with the police!”

They said nothing. Now and then a crackle came from the radio on the dashboard, far in front. At some point, a car filled with boys sped by, and I heard whooping and cheering. They were coming from a nightclub. The doddering police van meant nothing to these boys. They did not slow down. They were not afraid. Their fathers knew police commissioners and members of the legislature, figures who were capable of making all problems disappear. And me, how would I get out of this? Whom did I know?

 

A Burning || Megha Majumdar

Lovely

At night, after the acting class, I am lying in bed with Azad, my husband, my businessman who is buying and reselling Sansung electronics and Tony Hilfiger wristwatches from Chinese ships docking on Diamond Harbor. I am showing him my practice video from the day’s class, and now he is saying, “I have been telling you for hundred years! You have star material in you!” He is pinching my cheek, and I am laughing even though it is hurting. I am feeling peaceful, like this thin mattress on the floor is our own luxury five-star hotel bed. In this room I am having everything I am needing. A jar of drinking water, some dishes, a small kerosene stove, and a shelf of my clothes and jewelry. On the wall, giving me their blessings everyday, are Priyanka Chopra and Shah Rukh Khan. When I am looking around, I am seeing their beautiful faces, and some of their good fortune is sprinkling down on me.

“Azad,” I am saying this night. My face is close to his face, like we are in a romantic scene in a blockbuster. “Promise you will not get angry if I am telling you something?”

I am taking a moment to look at his face, dark and gray. Some long hairs in his eyebrows are trying to make an escape. I am having difficulty looking eye to eye for these hard words.

“Aren’t you thinking,” I am saying finally, “about a family and all? We are not so young–”

Azad is starting to talk over me like always. “Again?” is he saying. I am knowing that he is annoyed. “Was my brother coming here?”
“No!”

“Was my brother putting this rubbish in your head?”

“No, I am telling you!”

Why Azad is always accusing me of such things?

**

A Burning has been so masterfully compressed that it can be read in a single sitting to reveal how Jivan deals with the mounts of challenges coming her way. Continue to see how two other integral characters – PT Sir and Lovely – weave their way into the heart of the story in an unprecedented, yet vital manner that will leave you wanting more.

 

 

Anecdotes from An Extraordinary Life

Posted on by Penguin India

Over the last two decades, the exploits of one man, an IIT-Bombay alumnus, changed the way mainstream India looked at Goa and the political goings-on in the country’s smallest state.

An Extraordinary Life by Sadguru Patil and Mayabhushan Nagvenkar traces the life and times of Manohar Parrikar through the informed voices of his relatives, friends, foes, bureaucrats and IIT contemporaries. The daily battles of a gifted individual are brought to the fore as he encounters love and vices.

Find an excerpt below that narrates an anecdote from his childhood and family that made for one of the many moments defining Mahor Parrikar’s personality as an individual and politician.

*

 

Maths, Masti and Mapusa

Falling into trouble isn’t rare when one is young. But even at the age of eight, Manohar had the temperament to find a way out of it. Avdhoot, his elder brother, had seen Manohar emerge from several sticky situations with little more than some quick thinking. Avdhoot was nine, a year older than Manohar, when the latter fell into a deep, dry rainwater ditch near their ancestral house in Parra village. The gutter was deep enough to make Manohar’s efforts to climb out of it futile. Avdhoot was in a state of panic too. He could not pull Manohar out, because he did not have enough body strength to lift his younger brother up.

Where their collective brawn failed, Manohar thought of a plan.

Like in many rural homes at the time, the Parrikar household also reared a few head of cattle, mostly cows. There was one particular calf whom the Parrikar siblings called Mangala. She was particularly adored by Manohar and Avdhoot. There was also a greedy bull named Diglo who would always try to hog and gorge a major share of the fodder. During dry weather spells, their father, Gopalkrishna, would stock feed, mostly bundles of dry straw, which were stacked together near the house.

‘Manohar told me to fetch at least five bundles of straw. They weren’t too heavy, so I brought them one by one and, on his direction, threw them into the gutter. He piled them one on top of the other and managed to climb out,’ Avdhoot recalled.

The next morning, the telltale signs—dry grass strewn along the gutter bed—were not missed by other members of the family, but they smiled and ignored them.

With time and maturity, Parrikar the politician learnt not to leave behind such telltale signs.

But when he was born at Mapusa’s Dr Olavo Ribeiro Hospital, at 4.04 a.m. on 13 December 1955, Kaiee, the elderly mother of Manohar’s cousin Kashinath, did see signs of greatness, according to Parrikar’s elder sister Lata.

‘Kaiee told my mother that the boy will bring laurels to the Parrikar household,’ she said.

For an infant who would grow up to sting his political opponents with his acerbic wit and sharp intellect, Parrikar was born under the Scorpio star sign, while his nakshatra was Anuradha, symbolized by a blooming lotus. Kaiee, one must say, was not too off her mark, because under Parrikar’s watchful care, the lotus, the symbol of BJP, did eventually bloom in Goa.

The book narrates the daily battles of a gifted individual as he encounters love and vices. But more importantly, it showcases his rise in politics from the son of a grocery store owner in a nondescript town, a sanghachalak in Mapusa town, an Opposition MLA and leader, to a chief minister (on multiple occasions) and, finally, to a defence minister.

How you can be Inspired by Captain Vijayant Thapar, a Young Soldier

Posted on by Penguin India

“As time passed [at the Indian Military Academy], it became clear that his apparent outspoken nature, which initially was mistaken for arrogance, was anything but that. He was genuine and not afraid to speak his mind. He had all the qualities of an ideal GC—fitness, enthusiasm and vigour. He did not hesitate to take a stand. His optimism and cheerfulness were infectious, and these, along with his never-give-up attitude, made him endearing. No matter what his fri

ends asked him, Robin never said, ‘I don’t know.’ Mostly he did know. And even if he didn’t, he tried to figure it out.”

Here are some traits of Captain Vijyant,who was only twenty-two when he was martyred in the Kargil War, from his biography, Vijyant at Kargil writtenby his father and Neha Dwivedi.

He loved adventure (and the outdoors)

“Robin was growing up to be a warm, friendly, ever-curious and outgoing child. He was now a happy three-year-old who was always seeking adventure.”

“When made to study, he would ask his father to read to him instead. Being inherently outdoorsy, the need to absorb bookish information was lost on him. He learnt far better by experimenting and exploring.”

*

He was self-sufficient

“On the nights his parents were busy and couldn’t read to him, Robin would pick up one of his books and flip through the pages himself till he fell asleep.”

*

He was emotionally mature

 “At six, Robin could feel the kind of emotions that were lost on people much older than him.”

*

He liked to teach others what he already knew

“Having learnt how to cycle at an early age, Robin now thought himself to be an expert and fully equipped to teach other children.”

*

 He adapted well to situations

“Robin was seven years old then. Learning to adapt to new cities and making new friends came naturally to him. Still a lover of the outdoors, he was happiest when out in the open, playing his favourite games.”

*

He wasn’t easily offended

“One time, when all the boys were chatting among each other, including Robin and Parag, it was revealed that both Robin and his little brother were named after birds. The boys found this funny and started teasing Robin about it. He simply laughed along and did not let it get to him. He did not fight back or hold a grudge against anyone. Parag couldn’t help but admire this quality in someone his own age.”

*

Robin took great pleasure in the success and achievement of his friends and loved ones.

“He didn’t have a jealous bone in his body. One day, he came home jumping with joy because Donny had stood third in class.”

*

He was a responsible boy, even at age 10

“Running with his big brother was a moment to cherish for Birdie. Robin, too, would be careful not to race and would pace himself instead. He was aware that his younger brother would emulate him and so would act accordingly in his presence. Mamoon had an uneven ground, thorny shrubs, plenty of insects and birds, even small animals waiting to be discovered.”

*

He very happily indulged his younger brother (by six years)

“Instead of competing with him, he would let him win. He always thought of Birdie as his responsibility, and would always be available to solve his problems or give him gentle pushes when he needed them.”

*

He was assertive

“Robin always tried to do everything better than the rest. Often, he would be the one asking extra questions, eliciting silent groans from the rest of the class. He was aware of the sentiment, but his focus was rock solid. He was assertive and did not hesitate to take a stand, a quality mostly found in leaders.”

*

He had many admirable qualities

“He had great qualities like consideration, concern and kindness for others. But he was also humble. He felt embarrassed talking about his achievements. With a shy smile, he would brush aside any compliment given to him.”

*

He was faithful to his beliefs

“Robin had immense faith in his beliefs and once he had made up his mind about something, there was little one could do to change it.”

*

He was always setting an example for others

“His spirit often motivated others around him. He took immense pride in his turnout, and so his kits and rigs would always be spick and span and ready. He also always had a spare set of web equipment, cleaned and polished, which he gladly lent to his peers. He even kept his cabin shipshape, setting an example for others.”

Vijyant At Kargil: The Biography of A War Hero || Col V.N. Thapar, Neha Dwivedi

The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse – An Excerpt

Posted on by Penguin India

Enter the world of Charlie’s four unlikely friends, discover their story and their most important life lessons.

The boy, the mole, the fox and the horse have been shared millions of times online – perhaps you’ve seen them? They’ve also been recreated by children in schools and hung on hospital walls. They sometimes even appear on lamp posts and on cafe and bookshop windows. Perhaps you saw the boy and mole on the Comic Relief T-shirt, Love Wins?

Here, you will find them together in this book of Charlie’s most-loved drawings, adventuring into The Wild and exploring the universal thoughts and feelings that unite us all.

 

Read below an excerpt from the book:

 

 

The Boy||The Mole||The Fox and The Horse, Charlie Mackesy

 

 

Get your copy of The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse here 🙂

Raja Rao Contemplates the Deeper Significance of India

Posted on by Penguin India

First published in 1996 when he was eighty-eight years old, The Meaning of India is a selection of nearly six decades of Raja Rao’s non-fiction. It is an audacious contemplation on the deeper significance of India. A combination of fables, journeys, discussions and meditations, it advances the view that India is not just a geographical entity, or even a civilization-state. India is, above all, a metaphysic, a way of being and regarding the self and the world.

 

How does the book use fables, journeys, discussions and meditations? Read these excerpts from the book to find out:

 

India—A Fable

‘Your country—you get there by sailboat?’ he asked.

I said, ‘No. One goes there on steamers. One goes night and day, and for fifteen days. Then one comes to India.’

‘India,’ he repeated. He left the camel on the gravel. He sat by the pool, thinking.

‘And you? Have you a princess?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I even have two. They are not princesses. They are goddesses. One on my right hand and one on my left hand.’

‘One on your right hand, and one on your left hand. They are goddesses.’

‘Yes.’

‘What is a goddess, a goddess, Monsieur le Prince?’

 

Journeys (From ‘When Malraux Meets Jawaharlal Nehru’)

Twenty-two years later, in the autumn of 1958, there was a telephone call from André Malraux. I had just come back from Trivandrum (I spent about six months in Trivandrum and six months in Paris every year). Malraux said, ‘I have today, in fact only a few moments ago, been asked by General De Gaulle to head the first diplomatic mission abroad, of his new government. And where do you think it is going to—to India. Since it is you, mon ami, who first made me meet Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, I want you to accompany me on this historic visit.

 

Discussions (From ‘My First Meeting with Pandit Jawaharlal’)

‘Romain Rolland spoke to me about you,’ he said after a long silence as we were walking back to the pension. I still remember the sun was completely unaware of himself and the trees stood inordinately still. They seemed aching for a breath, a touch, an efflorescence of the noncontingential. Everything seeks its own death and discovery, for suchness alone is meaning.

‘Oh, did he?’ I mumbled from nowhere.

‘Yes, and he said you knew your France well.’

‘I suppose it’s because I recognize my India so deeply, Panditji. With Indian eyes all is meaning.’

‘Do you always speak like this?’

‘I always speak to the tree,’ I answered. I did not mention the Bodhisattva.

 

 

Meditations (From ‘Look, the Universe Is Burning!’)

Is man the universe’s centre or Truth the centre of man?—that’s the only real question. Or, may it be the truth of the universe and the truth of man coincide, cancelling each other out, as it were, taking us vertically to the supreme non-dual affirmation. The non-dual is also the non-causal. The great Vedantic philosopher Gaudapada (fourth century ad?) says, cause and effect are like proving the father is the son of the son, or the son is the father of the father, thus there is neither father nor son. 

These are some excerpts from Raja Rao’s The Meaning of India. To read them all, check out the book here: The Meaning of India. 

What it take to Build a Happy Family

Posted on by Penguin India

You can’t have a happy family unless you’re happy yourself. Raageshwari Loomba, an award-winning speaker on mindfulness, shows us how to create an excellent atmosphere for the entire family to thrive in. Her relateable style is coupled with real-life examples, such as that of Albert Einstein, who couldn’t speak till the age of four and was a poor student. His parents encouraged him with love and allowed him to learn at his own pace. This, she shows, is the way to bring up your own little genius.
Building a Happy Family brings to you 11 simple mindfulness philosophies that will enrich and strengthen your and your children’s inner world. Through scientific research and her own intimate story of heartbreak and facial paralysis, Raageshwari emphasises how our thoughts can manifest further struggles or glory, and how teaching children early that our inner world attracts our outer world is key. Parents are taught to encourage their children’s original expressions, creativity and joy, and not lose sight of it in their own lives too. This is the secret to a happy family.

 

Read an excerpt from the book below:

Why Mindfulness?

 

There are many inner-work philosophies, just as there are many meditation techniques. To counter anxiety, restlessness, anger, stress and depression, we can turn to the following:
  • The zen method, wherein we build our centre by focusing only on one object.
  • The mantra method, wherein we build our awareness by consistent repetition of a mantra or a shloka.
  •  The t’ai chi, yoga or qigong method, wherein we build our alertness with slow body movements to align with our inner feelings and thoughts.
However, mindfulness is particularly brilliant for parents because it gently reminds us to be present, to live to the fullest now, to not be concerned about getting to the next place. By being present now, we give children what they crave— our complete attention. Not to mention, we learn to be happy, we learn to be grateful and we alleviate stress and anxiety. In short, we become like children.
Santhosh Babu, founder, OD Alternatives, and mindfulness coach, says, ‘Psychologists, whichever branch of psychology they believe or practice, collectively agree that our behavioural patterns are shaped at an early stage of our lives. The most important influence for most of us at an early stage is the influence of our parents. Thus, our parenting styles, our behaviour towards children and the way we bring them up become the most influencing factors in who they end up becoming. Here, the importance of mindful parenting comes into the picture. Are we projecting our unfulfilled dreams on to our children? The way we react or act in front of our children could shape their world view and belief system. So how can we be the role models who allow healthy mental development in our children while we live in a world of distractions? Mindfulness philosophy and mindfulness techniques help us to be fully present for our children which in turn develop empathy and emotional resilience in them.’
Why is mindfulness important?
Do you wake up exhausted, thinking, ‘What needs to be done today?’ Wake up spouse, wake up children, pack the tiffin, get to school, get to work, answer emails, answer texts and oh! We are hosting a dinner tonight!’ Do you keep thinking about what needs to be done next? Do you always seem to be in a rush? All these are classic symptoms that you are never fully HERE and are constantly anxious and stressed about the next action on the to-do list.  You are overwhelmed and constantly snapping. You get irritated and provoked by family, friends and especially your children. Rather than listening and being still for a while, you react impulsively. Then you keep thinking about it and regretting your outburst.  The same pattern of anxiety, restlessness, worry and anger, followed by regret, continues in your life. Hence, mindfulness is important.  With mindfulness, we can train ourselves to slow down so that we can achieve much more. We can learn to enjoy this moment NOW and savour its memories.  Our family, friends and colleagues will then see that we can listen with love and reason with patience. Our relationships will flourish. With a few simple changes and techniques, you will see how your life is in your control again. You will have patience, presence, more focus, less anger and more insight.  The fact that you are able to focus on the present moment will take away a great deal of stress and anxiety from your life.
But what does my mindfulness have to do with the mindfulness of my children?
The philosophy of mindfulness is all about not being judgemental and being present. Today, parenting is the opposite of mindfulness; it is all about judging and rushing around. Children are naturally mindful as they are not culturebound, have zero judgemental qualities, zero prejudices, are happy without a reason and not concerned about getting to the next destination.They are born with the gift to understand that our inner world creates our external world.  Children are naturally curious and filled with wonder. They cheer up quickly and forgive and forget easily. Their desires are simpler; they wish to touch a pebble or wave at another kid passing by or simply play in the rain. They love being present in the NOW and are not even aware of the great gift they possess. Children lose this gift because of conditioning and well-meaning adults. Adults are the ones rushing them and urging them to get to the next moment or next destination. For example, a parent taking their child to a birthday party will say, ‘We don’t have time, get into the car. We don’t have much time, so we must reach soon.’ Once they are at the party, the parent says, ‘Eat the cake quickly and take the balloons if you want to. We don’t have time and we have to leave now to avoid the terrible traffic.’ And before we know it, the child has turned out just like them. Adults unknowingly train children to believe that happiness is a moving target and life is all about reaching the next destination. Hence, it’s ironic and amusing to see adults trying to achieve mindfulness, a quality that we once possessed in abundance as kids and were forced to let go of. Sadly, this terrible cycle continues with our own children. So, as parents, it is vital that we learn how to be mindful all over again so that we can allow our children to grow into mindful individuals.
How can I be mindful when a child irritates me?
Sometimes, when our children take too long to get ready and we have chores to finish, or when they are rude and angry, we immediately want to clarify who’s boss and fire back promptly. But do remember, our anger can never defuse a child’s anger, only calmness can. We are all sensitive to vibrations, and children are brilliant at sensing ours. On an external level, when children see us acting stressed, angry and restless, they internalize this behaviour and present it back to us in their times of distress. Let us remind ourselves that asking someone to hurry up too many times only triggers and escalates stress and anger. Hence, children reflect this behaviour. It is just like a boss hovering around us, waiting for us to finish a task. ‘Hurry up, I said. Hurry up, will you? Are you listening to me? Goodness, how slow are you?’ I wonder how well we would do a task under such circumstances. Just like an irate and hyper individual comes across as weak, so too does an irate and hyper parent. Stress and anger are a chain reaction, just like peace, patience and mindfulness.  An angry parent asking a child to be calm will not work for long. A parent who rarely gives focused attention to a child cannot expect the child to communicate effectively with them in the future. Hence, can you be mindful of your emotions the next time your child upsets you? It is in your control to stop the vicious cycle of helplessness and start the cycle of mindfulness. Just be still, sip some water and breathe. Reframe your thinking, focus on something that brings you joy. Now observe the same child; you will notice a shift in their behaviour too.  When we are at ease and show confidence, our children take us far more seriously and naturally reflect that. This book is about training you to take the onus on yourself in every situation. This book is about you accepting the reality that parenting is all about bringing up the parent and not the child. Once you master this art, you will magically navigate every situation. This is science. This is the magic of mindfulness!

Get your copy of Building a Happy Family here 🙂

A Soldier’s Sacrifice: A glimpse into Captain Vijyant Thapar’s life

Posted on by Penguin India

Captain Vijyant Thapar was twenty-two when he was martyred in the Kargil War, having fought bravely in the crucial battles of Tololing and Knoll. A fourth-generation army officer, Vijyant dreamt of serving his country even as a young boy. In this first-ever biography, titled Vijyant at Kargil, we learn about his journey to join the Indian Military Academy and the experiences that shaped him into a fine officer.

Told by his father, Col. V.N. Thapar and Neha Dwivedi, a martyr’s daughter herself, the anecdotes from his family and close friends come alive, and we have a chance to know the exceptional young man that Vijyant was. His inspiring story provides a rare glimpse into the heart of a brave soldier. His legacy stays alive through these fond memories and his service to the country.

Here is an excerpt from the prologue of the book that talks about his last few moments, and the reaction of his friends and family as they received the news of his martyr.

28 June 1999

Finally, the time had come. Men with faces covered with camouflage paint, with the white of their eyeballs visible in the dark, started moving forward silently like ghosts, clutching their AKs tightly. Muscles taut, jaws clenched, they advanced towards the crest. Robin raised his right arm and everyone froze as a shell burst in the sky some distance away, followed by a rattle of fire from the hill about 800 metres ahead. It was still dark but soon the almost full moon would rise and light up the entire area.

He looked at his sturdy G-Shock watch, which read 1945 hours, 28 June. In a few minutes, they would reach their destination. Around fifteen minutes ago, at 1930 hours, heavy artillery fire had started. He did not want to wait a minute longer than required, now that he was so close to the enemy. Suddenly, the machine guns opened up behind him. It was time. They held their breath in anticipation for the signal to move, their eyes fixed on the silhouette of the hill in front, from where flashes of fire were visible. And then it happened. A shell from the enemy guns landed in their midst.

29 June 1999

All of India was in the middle of Operation Vijay. The Indian Army was fighting almost impossible battles on the extremely tough and unforgiving heights of Drass and Kargil. After weeks of bloody struggle, the tables had turned. News of spectacular victories and stories of unbelievable courage of the valiant men in uniform were flooding the news channels, newspapers and magazines. While some just read the news with their morning cup of tea, others extended support to the officers and jawans by way of inspirational letters, cards and other gestures. This was the first time the country was privy to inside news from the war zone, thanks to the various reporters, who brought it right into their living rooms.

On this day, the country was waking up to the glorious news of another important feature, namely Knoll, being captured, ever so bravely, by the officers and men of the ‘Ever-Victorious’ 2 Rajputana Rifles, one of the most prestigious units of the Indian Army. But some families were destined to face the flip side of the victory. The painful side of war.

They woke up to the much-awaited call from the front. However, this time, they didn’t hear the voice they longed for.

A brother had no strength left to hold the receiver of the phone after hearing about his only sibling’s brave sacrifice.

A mother had her heart torn out as she was summoned home in the middle of her working day.

A father, who was always planning and building the brightest future for his son, bit by bit, had his dreams shattered into more pieces than he could count.

A young girl, who was busy counting the days until she would meet the handsome young officer her heart belonged to, was left abandoned.

A little child, who had perhaps learnt to smile again because of her angel in uniform, would never see his face again.

A friend, who was oceans away, had just dreamt of his best friend and woken up with a start, oblivious to what the phone call that would come barely a few minutes later had in store.

To the world he was but a man, but to many others he was the world.

The ‘world’, however, did come together, as the people of Noida made their way to Col Virender Thapar’s house on a hot Tuesday afternoon when they learnt of the brave sacrifice of a son of their own. The young boy—who had run on the streets and exercised in the parks till a couple of years ago, who had donned the smart uniform for barely six months after years of preparation—had breathed his last in the highest tradition of the Indian Army. They couldn’t wait to get a glimpse of the courageous son of their soil. The reaction the sacrifice of this young and valiant officer drew from an entire city was the first of its kind. Until that day, no other event had united the people of the city in such a manner. Men, women and children alike, with an overwhelming feeling of love and respect, came together in large numbers to pay respect to the fallen hero and extend their heartfelt support to the bereaved family. The brave soldier deserved the utmost respect from his country, and every person present was determined to give him just that.

Thousands of people surrounded his house and waited for him to arrive, wrapped in the tricolour. His family and friends tried to hold their own. Their eyes were wet and their hearts heavy despite being full of pride. No one said it aloud, but each one of them silently wished: ‘I wish it isn’t our Robin. Not our sweet Robin.’

Get to know the exceptional young man, and brave soldier, Captain Vijyant Thapar by reading his biography, Vijyant at Kargil. Order the e-book here.

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