Publish with Us

Follow Penguin

Follow Penguinsters

Follow Penguin Swadesh

Who are the Janamsakhis?

History is telling and re-telling of stories by one generation to the next in the form of illustrations, written texts and verbal narrations. Janamsakhis are the birth (janam) and life stories (sakhis) of First Sikh – Guru Nanak. While the earliest of the existing Janamsakhi – Bala, (dated 1658) is a compilation of 29 illustrations, the B-40 Janamsakhi (dated 1733) is considered to be the most significant for its nuanced and detailed depiction through 56 illustrations.

The narratives in all Janamsakhis are linearly portrayed from birth till death but vary across time, region, and artist. Through detailed study of Janamsakhis, the author of The First Sikh attempts to convey the central meaning of these stories, that is that, “the First Sikh reaching out to people across religions, cultures, professions and societal hegemonies, and embracing them in his profound spirituality”.

Here are the most important lessons that we gain to learn five and a half centuries hence.

*
Greatness lies in our deeds

The portrayal of the First Sikh in the form of an ordinary human being, without a halo, validates his temporal and historical presence in our world. The Janamsakhis present a natural progression of the First Guru as a baby boy to a bearded middle-aged man into a grey bearded old man.

“Rather than any exaggeration of external features and spacing, what spectacularly emerges is the Guru’s inner power and spirituality. In the early illustrations he is not depicted with even a halo. Yet, the First Sikh’s simple pose, whether standing, sitting or lying down, and his gentle gestures addressing people from various strata of society and personal orientation spell out his greatness.”

*
Imbibing a pluralist approach

Various illustrations in Janamsakhis indicate the First Guru’s acceptance of beliefs and practices of different culture, both in his gestures and physical appearance.

“The illustrator of the early B-40 Janamsakhi accomplishes it by utilizing disparate motifs of the tilak and the seli: Guru Nanak almost always has a vertical red tilak mark on his forehead, just as he has a woollen cord, seli, slung across his left shoulder coming down to his right waist.” … “Evidently, the bright red line between the Guru’s dark eyes or the dark semicircle sinuously clinging his yellow robe go beyond art for art’s sake attractiveness: the tilak is saturated with the holiness of the Vaishnava Hindus; the seli with the devotion of the Muslim Sufis.”

“In almost all of his adult images Guru Nanak in the B-40 has in his hand a simple circle of beads on a string, ending in a tassel…” “Thought to have originated in Hindu practice, the ‘rosary’ is a widespread and enduring article used for meditation and prayer by Buddhists, Muslims and Christians alike.”

*
Rejecting divisive cultural and political beliefs

The Janamsakhis elucidate the First Guru’s firm belief in equality and dismantling cultural practices that divide the community on the basis of caste, religion, and profession. A sharp and effective rendition of one those incidents is when young Nanak refuses to “participate in the upanyana ceremony, reserved for upper-caste Brahmin, Kshatriya and Vaishya boys” and questions the priest who proceeds towards him with a sacred thread (janaeu). He retorts,

“‘Such a thread,’ continues Nanak, ‘will neither snap nor soil, neither get burnt nor lost.’ His biography and verse are thus blended together by the Janamsakhi authors to illustrate his rejection of an exclusive rite of passage antithetical to the natural growth of boys from all backgrounds alike. A young Nanak interrupts a smooth ceremony in front of a large gathering in his father’s house so that his contemporaries would envision a different type of ‘thread’, a different ritual, a whole different ideal than the rebirth of upper-caste Hindu boys into the patriarchal world of knowledge. That everyone treat one another equally every day is the subtext.”

*
Living a truthful life

The Janamsakhis vividly and repeatedly portray the quintessential message of taking responsibility of our actions and performing our worldly duties in the society.

“Coming across some Pandits offering waters to the rising sun, the Guru begins to sprinkle palmfuls of water in the westward direction. When asked about his contradictory act, he simply responds that he is watering his fields down the road. This tiny story raises a loaded question: Is taking care of crops and other honest work any less than feeding distant dead ancestors? He draws the attention of his contemporaries to matters of living a collective responsible moral life. Whatever the setting, he conveys the futility of rituals and highlights truthful living midst family and society on a daily basis.”

*
Engaging in community service

After his spiritual transition, when Guru Nanak reappears in river Bein after 3 days of immersion, he travels far and wide with Bhai Bala and Bhai Mardana to disseminate the importance of community service.

“As he reincorporates into society, ‘antistructure’ becomes the mode of existence. The earliest Sikh community that developed with Guru Nanak at Kartarpur fits in with the cultural anthropologist Victor Turner’s description of ‘antistructure’ because the neat horizontal divisions and vertical hierarchies of society were broken down.” … “The three important socio-religious institutions of Sikhism: seva (voluntary service), langar (community meal) and sangat (congregation) evolve in which men and women formerly from different castes, classes and religions take equal part.”

*
Nurturing our body and participating in the natural, social and cosmic process

The Janamsakhis depict the extensive dialogue between Guru Nanak and the various ascetics. It comprehensively displays the conflict between Nanak’s belief in accepting and nurturing our body and the Naths’ ideals of “smearing ash on their bodies as a symbol of their renunciation”. Artist Alam presents an incident in B-40 Janamsakhi where,

“We see Guru Nanak climbing up a mountain where a conclave of Nath yogis is sitting (#20 in the B-40). The artist paints them with their backs against the world. Some have smeared. Their shaved heads, lengthened earlobes and long earrings (kan-phat, ‘ear split’) signal their rigorous hatha yoga practices and ascetic ideals.” … “Guru Nanak’s pictures with the various ascetic groups resonate with scriptural verses: rather than ‘smear the bodies with ashes, renounce clothes and go naked—tani bhasam lagai bastar chodhi tani naganu bhaia’ (GGS: 1127), we must ‘wear the outfit of divine honour and never go naked—painana rakhi pati parmesur phir nage nahi thivana’ (GGS: 1019).”


Pick your copy of The First Sikh to learn how the Janamsakhis gather meaningful incidences that are essential for the unity and continuity of the Sikh community.

Heartbreaking Lines from Layla and Tanya’s Story

A richly atmospheric, deeply claustrophobic story with a stunning denouement, of two women confronting the everyday realities of their city and country, So All is Peace by Vandana Singhal provides an unflinching insight into love, lust, fear, grief, and the decisions we make, through a cast of sharply drawn characters brought together by an unspoken wrong.

Here are some powerful but heartbreaking lines that stayed with us long after we had turned the last page:

‘…it made me have an epiphany that that is how my life was going to be; its beauty forever marred by ache, its moments of ecstasy shadowed by agony. I was wrong of course. My moments of happiness reached a point and snapped off. Just like that. Never presaged and never returned.’

*

‘That’s Tanya. She was always beautiful, always a better person, always by my side to make me stronger… But when I begin speaking again, the words stumble and lose direction and fall out as droplets of water. Ok. Perhaps I am not ready to speak yet. In time, but not quite just yet. Or perhaps never.’

*

‘All I feel is pain. Unmitigated, unending pain. Like a loud horrible keeeeeeeee of a faulty microphone inside my head. And cold. I am always so cold that I seem to be discovering new parts of my body that are developing little icicles inside them.’

*

‘His restlessness despite his otherwise structured life as a successful award-winning journalist probably comes from the complete lack of emotional support that he received from his parents throughout his life and although it feels a little juvenile and unfair as a thirty-seven year old man to still attribute his lack of emotional depth to his parents, what is undeniable is that they could be from another planet for how much he understood them or how much they have ever understood him.’

*

‘It is difficult to feel unique when there is another person who looks exactly like you, mirroring your every expression, replicating your every action, even if the replicator is as good looking as Layla often is.’

*

‘The spaces for women have been systematically, methodically truncated. Not by any dictate. That would be too obvious…No, there no boards saying ‘Women not Allowed’. But open a map of Delhi and there they are. The many, many places where no woman can go and the many, many more places where no woman can go after sundown. A temporal and areal-shrinking of their boundaries.’

Full of memorable characters and poignant scenes So All is Peace is a crucial commentary on the emotional realities and heartbreaks faced by women in today’s cities.

The Evolution of the Hotel Industry in India

India stands unmatched with its rich culture and tradition in hospitality, which millions of international and local travelers have experienced over the years.  Today’s travelers know what they want and are seekers of authentic, immersive experiences. Hotels are at the center of it all.

The Indian hotel industry, however, has shifted enormously over the years. Read on to know more about its tumultuous history and evolution.

Relying on Relatives

During the 1970s and 1980s, the Indian traveler did not have a decent room to stay in. The only hotels were either poky places with poor hygiene or grand five-stars run by the likes of the Taj or the Oberoi, which were unaffordable. So, there was nowhere decent and affordable for the large middle-class of this country. As a result, most travelers opted to stay with families and friends or in state-run tourist homes.

*

 

What’s a Brand?

Till the early 1990s, the structure of India’s hotel industry was fairly straightforward. There was an owner, there was a manager and the brand. But in the majority of cases, the hotel owner simply ran the hotel without a brand.

*

 

Post- Liberalisation

The Indian economy opened up in 1991, leading to high economic growth in the country all through the 1990s and the noughties. Breaking out of the shackles of socialism, India introduced policies that were market and services-oriented and this led to a boom of seeing good midmarket hotels that offered some of the frills of the five stars.

*

 

Retaining the Throne

The badshahs of Indian hospitality, the Taj, the ITC and the Oberoi—often called the Big Three—have dominated the landscape for decades, with the over-100-year-old Taj having a significant market share in the branded-hotel segment. The Taj and Oberoi are iconic global brands, but their names no longer command the premium and undying loyalty they once did. Instead, post-2000, each of these players has had to work hard to stay relevant in a world where the customer has plenty of choice and is fickle.

*

 

The Global Goliaths

They came, they saw, they failed to conquer—that was in the 1960s, and then again in the 1970s and 1980s. But if anything, international chains have been persistent in their attempts to occupy the Indian market. And eventually, most of them managed to crack the code. The entry of the international chains has been a really important turning point for Indian hospitality because while the complexity of the Indian market may have challenged them initially, once they got their bearings right, they brought in some important ingredients—discipline, efficiency, transparency and strong processes—to the sector.

*

 

Lease, not Own

Today, there are five-and-a-half hotel models—OLMFD (Owned, Leased, Managed, Franchised or Distributed). Many hotels are actually not owned but leased for ninety-nine years or less. When they enter into these leases, people assume the lease will be extended for eternity but that’s not the case as seen with the Taj Mahal Hotel on Mansingh Road in New Delhi.

*

 

The New Brigade

Entrepreneurs with no background in hospitality have jumped into the fray as they think there is a gap that the veteran players have not addressed. These include Ritesh Agarwal of OYO, Gaurav Jain of Aamod, Aditi Balbir of V Resorts, and Prashant Aroor of Intellistay. This new breed of hoteliers has the chutzpah and confidence to venture into this turf and the good news is that they have backing from venture capital and private equity players.

*

 

The Digital Disrupters

Online travel agents such as Make My Trip, Clear Trip, Yatra and Booking.com that blazed into the digital landscape completely disrupted the hotel industry. They changed the way people chose hotels and booked and created a level playing field for unknown hotels that had no distribution muscle. Thanks to them, a small single-hotel company can now get 100 per cent occupancy while hotel chains with deep distribution networks may struggle to fill up rooms.


  • In From Oberoi to Oyo, Chitra Narayanan chronicles the origins of India’s hospitality industry and its transformation, and even crystal-gazes into what the future holds. Grab your copy of the book today to know more!

What Really is ‘Happily Ever After’?

Sanam is a carefree, but headstrong young girl. A spat with a politician’s son pushes her to take up the challenge of becoming an IAS. At the same time, a small-town boy, Aamir, is nudged into studying for the civil services too. Both become rank holders.

They meet at the IAS Training Academy, Mussoorie. They fall in love and all hell breaks loose. Their religious differences come to the fore, things take a dangerous turn and there is an explosion on social media.

Meet the ambitious Sanam in an excerpt from the book below!

Life has a way of changing things around you with blinding speed, and in a way that you have little choice but to adapt to your new circumstances. Even a smiling sunflower basking in happiness could be dragged under the harshest spotlight the very next instance and whacked to answer questions that burn its yellow tongue. Our Sanam became one such bakra.

Not that you would’ve ever thought that possible, seeing the level of comfort and confidence with which she rode.

Two ‘Best Student’ trophies took pride of place on her desk—the one that had been awarded the previous day at college dwarfed the one presented at school four years ago, in sheer size. A figurine of the Laughing Buddha in onyx reclined next to them, guaranteeing both luck and prosperity.

The biggest challenge for Sanam today was to airbrush her Europe trip itinerary in such a way that she could squeeze out the maximum from this much-awaited time out to spend with her friends.

Two days in Lucerne . . . or just a day trip to Jungfrau, with an extra evening in Innsbruck? Sanam shakes her head. There are no easy answers in life!

But wait! Wasn’t there someone whose biggest preoccupation in life was to make the tough easy for her!

‘Dad!’

Sanam sallies forth to seek the one person who with his magic wand could iron out every crease and wrinkle in her way.

‘Dad!’ she calls out. The television news blared louder than her . . . her call drowning in the reporter’s excited outpouring:

‘Eight people have died as thousands of Dalits took to streets across India, protesting a Supreme Court order that, according to them, undermines a law designed to protect lower-caste and backward communities. Train services have been severely affected and main roads are blocked in a number of states . . .’

Grabbing the remote of the gigantic electronic screen that held her dad spellbound, Sanam reduces the volume.

Two pairs of eyes and ears swivel towards her immediately.

 


A heady mix of dreams and desire, Trending in Love is a story of undying love in the face of our society’s most dangerous beliefs. Are you all set to meet the couple?

 

Novoneel Chakraborty on his Inspiration,Characters & More

Novoneel Chakraborty is the bestselling author of fourteen bestselling thriller novels and one short story collection titled Cheaters. Known for his twists, dark plots and strong female protagonists, Novoneel Chakraborty is also called the Sidney Sheldon of India by his readers.

His latest book, Roses Are Blood Red is sure to excite his fans! Here Novoneel answers some of your burning questions:

What inspired you to write Roses Are Blood Red?

The story stemmed out from a very personal experience of mine which pushed me to dissect the concept of ‘love’ in my own manner.

How or Why did you choose these characters?

Unlike my other books, this time I wanted to focus on people from smaller cities and towns. Hence, I chose characters whose overall emotional make-up had the vibe of such a place. I find some earthiness in them and hence are always close to me as a creator.

What could be an alternate title for your book?

I have no idea. I don’t think I ever had an alternate title for this book[Roses Are Blood Red]. Maybe the readers who have read the book may answer this.

What are three reasons to read this book?
  1. It’s a page turner.
  2. It talks about a kind of love you may have not read before.
  3. It has an endearing heart and love story at its centre.
What are you working on next?

It’s too early to talk about it but it’s a one of a kind thriller.

Did the climax of the story change or did it remain the same from the start?

The climax never changed. In fact, this was one of those books whose climax occurred to me before the story. So I chose to stick to it.


Author of the hugely successful Forever series, Novoneel Chakraborty creates a spellbinding story of love, longing and loss in his latest book Roses Are Blood Red.

To find out whether destiny triumphs over a dangerous obsession, read Roses Are Blood Red!

The Bane of Each Other’s Existence- An Excerpt from ‘Pataakha’

They cannot live with each other, they cannot live without each other. As children, they squabbled all day long. When they were old enough, they married two brothers, and took with them their feuds to their in-laws. Boisterous and fiery pataakhas, sisters Badki and Chhutki are the bane of each other’s existence.

Based on Charan Singh Pathik’s eponymous short story, Vishal Bhardwaj’s adaptation is a hilarious tour de force that obliquely and mischievously takes into its ambit notions of patriarchy and diplomacy between nations. This translation, which includes the novella and the screenplay that the film-maker developed from the short story, not only brings to the reader a rustic, elemental tale rooted in the soil, but also provides a unique glimpse into the art of adapting a literary work into film.

Here’s an excerpt from the book below:

Badki’s husband dropped her back to the village after buying her medicines. Although Badki religiously took her medicines as prescribed, she found no relief even after the stipulated three days. Badki’s husband brought her back to the city. This time he showed her to a specialist who ran a battery of tests.

‘I can’t find anything wrong with these results,’ said the mystified specialist. ‘Let me prescribe some other medicines, however. Come back to me after five days.’

Badki flounced out of the doctor’s cabin in a huff and her embarrassed husband ran after her. She turned on him furiously. ‘What kind of a quack is this guy? He knows nothing. How in the name of the devil will he treat me?’ And with that she returned home, deeply annoyed.

At night, she said to her elder son, ‘Call your cousins in Agra. I want to talk to your maasi.’

The soldier, who had just come home from work, answered, ‘Hello, who is this?’
‘It’s me . . . Golu.’

‘Yes, Golu. Tell me . . . is everything okay?’

‘Everything is fine.’

‘Is budhi-maa okay?’ he said, referring to his mother; all the kids were used to calling their grandmother budhi-maa or ‘old-mother’.

‘Yes, she is. Please give the phone to maasi. Ammi wants to talk to her.’

The soldier handed the phone to Chhutki. ‘A call from home.’

Chhutki snatched the phone. ‘I’m Chhutki. Who is this?’

‘It’s me . . . Badki.’

‘Idiot! Why this urgent need to talk to me?’

‘Did you see the Red Fort and the Taj Mahal?’

‘May you suffer, dari.’

‘I’m already very unwell.’

‘You’ll die suffocating,’ Chhutki retorted, unsympathetically.

‘Did you sit in the aeroplane?’

‘Don’t you dare talk, witch! I’m also unwell. Agra’s water doesn’t suit me.’

‘You left me behind to go gallivanting with your husband. You had to pay, so pay!’

‘You’re a monster from another life, dari!’

‘And acting like a lioness just because you are at a safe distance, you hedgehog! If you have any guts, and are a red-blooded man’s daughter, I dare you to come to the village and face me . . .’ Badki challenged again. ‘Trying to behave like a soldier’s wife from far away!’

‘I’ll be back in two days, dari . . . and then see if I don’t grab your braids, twirl you around and hurl you a hundred yards out! Then you’ll know whether I’m the daughter of a red-blooded man or not!’

The soldier was dumbstruck to see the transformation in his wife. She seemed to have instantly thrown off the wan, sickly air that she had been carrying for days now.

Upon hearing that Chhutki was due to return in two days, Badki immediately switched off her phone.

That night she devoured several rotis and polished off a double helping of milk and rabdi. The next day she tossed out the packet of medicines. She announced, ‘It has been ages since I slept as well as I did last night.’


Will things go too far between Badki and Chhutki? You’ll have to read Pataakha to find out!

A Friendship Set in Stone

In Sarojini’s Mother, Sarojini-Saz-Campbell comes to India to search for her biological mother. Adopted and taken to England at an early age, she has a degree from Cambridge and a mathematician’s brain adept in solving puzzles. Handicapped by a missing shoebox that held her birth papers and the death of her English mother, she has few leads to carry out her mission and scant knowledge of Calcutta, her birthplace.

Through an emotionally intense journey of survival and mental demons – Sarojini discovers how the concept of motherhood is much more nuanced than simple biology.

Chiru Sen, an Elvis lookalike, becomes her guide and confidante on this journey. Find a glimpse of their first meeting in the excerpt below.

 

It was easy to spot Saz at the Rex. She was sitting by herself near the window. At first glance she looked Indian, but not fully so, given the way she was flapping the menu around awkwardly, troubled by the flies. She nodded when I mentioned Idris and pointed to the seat across from her. Then she gave a start as I grabbed the menu from her hand and swatted a fly that was about to perch on her half-eaten croissant.

‘Did you have to kill it!’ She scowled; eyes fixed on the dead fly.

‘Not unless you wished to share your meal with it!’ Shrugging, I tried to lighten the air.

She didn’t speak to me for a good while, kept her eyes locked on my face. From her puzzled look you could see she wasn’t expecting Idris’s friend to resemble a rock star. ‘Why do you dress like a dead man?’ Saw asked.

Right away I knew she was special and why Suleiman was bent on saving her from being spoilt.

‘The King isn’t dead!’ I joked.

‘Really! If he was alive, his hair would’ve fallen out by now. Would you have shaved your head then?’ Regaining her composure after the fly incident, she returned tot he croissant, taking small bites and chewing thoroughly.

Words came to my lips, but I kept them closed hoping to hear some more from Saz.

‘Or are you hoping he lives on through you? Like we want our parents and grandparents to keep on living forever.’

I wasn’t expecting philosophy straight up, I have to confess, not before we had discussed matters of hygiene at least. Like the condition of her flat and toilet and the owner’s demeanour, whether she had managed to acquire an Indian SIM for her phone, and stayed healthy from her travels.

Finished with her meal, she avoided the Rex’s yellowing napkin and took out a pack of tissues to wipe her lips. Then she cut into my thoughts.

‘It isn’t all bad to imagine we are somebody else. Especially if there is confusion over who we really are.’

She appeared calm, and the words coming out of her mouth were crisp and clear. Much as I was prepared to strike up a Geordie, a Brummie or a Cockney, her English was clearly BBC.

‘Especially if we aren’t sure where we’ve come from, or where we belong?’

It was my turn for lofty talk, and a chance to impress my new friend. ‘Which is…’

‘Which is true for half the people on this planet!’ She took the words right out of my mouth, ‘like the two of us—you a Bengali Elvis and me a brown Saz Campbell from Bromley!’

Smart girl!—I thought. She was playing my role, out of the wings and joining up two strangers with nothing more than a few chosen words.

Did I want a coffee of the cinnamon tea she’d ordered, Saz asked when the waiter came around. I shook my head. It was too early in our friendship to have her buy me refreshments. ‘A croissant perhaps?’ She smiled, pointing to the menu and keeping it out of my reach to avoid another unnecessary killing.

I wasn’t expecting Suleiman’s ‘girl’ to be a stunner, but her smile was quite extraordinary. The eyes are the most revealing, they say, but in her case it was definitely the smile. Dressed Western but Indian in looks, it made her out to be her own person unattached to a place of birth or home address.


The bestselling author of The Japanese Wife is back with an intimate look at human connections, friendships and family.

Saz, Chiru and his band members set off to help Saz look for her birth mother. Will they be successful? Find out in Kunal Basu’s, Sarojini’s Mother!

Perils of the City: Everyday Realities of Urban

So All Is Peace is a story of twin sisters – Layla and Tanya, who were anointed the ‘Starving Sisters’ when they were found to be starving in an upper middle class gated apartment complex in Delhi. Their news became instantly sensational and nobody could figure out what had caused two educated, beautiful women to starve themselves.

Here are some excerpts from Vandana Singh-Lal’s book, So All Is Peace, that highlights the feelings of alienation that the girls experienced while living in a big city.

 

Living in Delhi, Layla and Tanya were taught to avoid places where women felt vulnerable to inappropriate glances. Tanya remembers,

“With our carefully controlled outings with Mamma and Papa—shopping only at the malls, going to school in the school bus and to college in university-special or U-special as they are called; never going to any religious festival or a fair or any place where there may be crowds and the potential for a stampede (which was almost every place in Delhi)—our experience of groping fingers and lascivious glances was almost non-existent and we entered the territory that came with being a woman in Delhi or perhaps anywhere in India, unprepared, naked and woefully unarmed.”

*

Soon after their parents passed away, Tanya recalls an incident when feelings of loneliness gripped her, and she couldn’t discuss her harrowing experience of sexual assault with anyone around.

“Like sparks flying out of a short-circuit, it spewed out stray thoughts that I had nobody to share with, pieces of conversations that I could not have, bits of passages that nobody was present to hear, tears of sympathetic neighbours that had no place inside me, whispers of curious onlookers that I could not hide away from, the buzzing and sparking and searing and the absolute emptiness of a house where every room was still filled with the paraphernalia of the living but where everything had died.”

*

With Tanya relocating to Andhra Pradesh, Layla started dating Deepak. He often came to their house because,

“In a country where everything takes place outside in the open, where people bathe, eat, pray, sleep, shit, fight, play, kill and die on the road, the only thing that does not and that cannot happen on the road is love; the making of it, the display of it, or even the allusion to it, except in the larger than life film posters. But the posters too remain coy, allegorical, metaphorical. No kissing is allowed on the roads of the country, no holding of hands, no looking for too long into each others’ eyes either. So Layla had to find a place for them to meet and a relationship; a veneer however thin or translucent or unconvincing.”

*

Raman, the award-winning journalist, who has been tasked to write about the ‘Starving Sisters’ had begun to have strong feelings for Tanya.

Although he had spent relatively short time with her in person, he had devoted long hours to her mentally, analyzing the smallest of her gestures and the tiniest of inflictions in her voice ad-infinitum, and something in her had suggested a kind of depth that he was not used to encountering. Now he has been provided with some more clues about what exists behind her vulnerable tarsier eyes, and he is excited. This is a new challenge. And yet. Wouldn’t it have been easier if she did not have this other side? If she could have been enfolded within the narrative that was furiously being woven about her with the help of disparate threads—some real, most imaginary—but all being accorded the same amount of space and value as if the difference between the fake and the real does not matter anymore as long as everything could be fitted into an easily explained, easily propagated, easily digested world.

*

The gated societies of Delhi often have Residents’ Welfare Association (RWA) that have rules for visitors, especially males. When Deepak had moved in with the twins, Layla was regularly pestered by the head of RWA – Mr. Deol, to submit Deepak’s identity documents. Mr. Deol explained,

“We made the rule that we could not allow any overnight male visitor in any all-women household until they handed over his passport copy and gave us in writing what relationship they had with the man. I personally went to tell the sister that and to give them a copy of the notice. You know, the sister had looked at me very strangely then.’”


Pick your copy of So All Is Peace, to read how the shocking events unfolded in the starving sisters’ lives.

Meet the Characters from ‘Jaipur Journals’

Jaipur Journals is a unique, metafictional novel by Namita Gokhale, one of the founder-directors of Jaipur Literature Festival. Set against the backdrop of the festival itself, the book brings together a rich cast of characters and their even richer stories.

We introduce you to some of the characters whose lives intersect and collide within these pages.

 

Zoya Mankotia

A writer who identifies herself as pan-sexual and non-binary, Zoya Mankotia is an icon of queer literature and representation. Her most recent novel, The Quilt, created waves, occasioning both outrage and intense appreciation. Her voice holds a mélange of accents.

In the world of Jaipur Journals, we meet her in a panel, where she introduces herself:

‘I am by discipline a novelist […] as passionate about crossover genres as I am about gender fluidity. I am nonbinary and pan-sexual, and I am committed equally to my writing, my raison d’être, and my wife, my monogamous partner. We can be who we are, write as we like. Sexuality, as a narrative, is a freeflowing river.’

Raju Srivastava

Born in Bijnor, Raju Srivastava is a burglar who is passionate about poetry. He is the son of an unsuccessful tailor-master. He arrives in Jaipur to fulfil two purposes: meeting India’s greatest poet, Janab Javed Akhtar, and covering the cost of the trip through some well-executed burglaries.

Raju nurses a deep-seated desire to become a poet, and is an avid reader of poets like Nirala and Dushyant Kumar, Muktibodh and Firaq Gorakhpuri and Faiz Ahmad Faiz. He writes prolifically, and his preferred form of poetry is the ghazal. His hero and idol in the poetry world, however, is Javed Akhtar.

Anura

Anura is short for Anuradha, a twelve-year-old student en route to Jaipur on a school trip. She is a prodigy, having been selected for a Young Adult panel in the Jaipur Literature Festival. She has self-published a dystopian novel.

As is evident from her preference for the shortened form of her name, she is quite taciturn, and likes to save her words for important things.

Anna Wilde

Anna Wilde is a writer from America, who primarily publishes books on meditation and reflection. Anna is quite renowned for her association with the Beat Poets, especially Allen Ginsberg. She is attending the Jaipur Literature Festival to talk about her books The Inner Eye, which was very successful, and The Third Way, which has recently been reissued.

Anna teaches theology at the University of Colorado. She calls herself a Hindu, by ‘dharma and karma’, and has spent many years in India before returning to America.

Rudrani Rana

Rudrani Rana is a woman in her seventies, who sees herself as a ‘failed novelist’. She always carries around a handbag that contains her unpublished magnum opus; which she refers to as UNSUBMITTED.  The novel is actually titled The Face by the Window and is a dedicated to Alice Walker and her book, The Colour Purple.

Rudrani is an alumna of Waverly Girls School in Dehradun. Alongside her unpublished semi-fictional novel, she also writes anonymous letters as a means to express herself.

She is a huge fan of Oprah Winfrey, which is what had drawn her to the Jaipur Literature Festival for the first time, back in 2012. She is often fatigued and lonely, and feels like an outsider within the literature circuit at the festival.

Gayatri Smyth Gandhy

Gayatri Smyth Gandhy is fifty-two, single, divorced and is a self-proclaimed ‘citizen of the world’. She is a  historian and cultural anthropologist with an American green card.  She is also an aspiring novelist.

She is stuck in her novel, struggling to understand herself what it is about. She lived in Jaipur as an adolescent when her father Brig. Gandhy was stationed there. She considers herself a Jaipurite in many respects, and makes annual trips to the city during the festival. She often feels divided between her Indian and Western selves.


Namita Gokhale’s Jaipur Journals  brings together these characters within the setting of the Jaipur Literature Festival, and their stories are as vibrant and diverse as the largest free literary festival in the world!

There’s More to Life than Cricket

Jai is fourteen and dreams of owning a café in Delhi. Inaya is fifteen and dreams of playing cricket for Pakistan.

In 2008, their worlds collide. What unfolds is a story that started way back in 1947 – with the drawing of a line.

Inaya lives with her father in Rawalpindi. Her cricket ambitions don’t always go down well with her family.

Find a glimpse of her story in the excerpt below. 

*

Rawalpindi, Pakistan

A loud crash announced Inaya’s misjudged attempt at hitting a sixer in the tape-ball cricket tournament taking place in the street adjoining Haider Mansion. It startled Mudassar, the Haiders’ elderly help, almost causing him to drop the figurine of the ballerina that he was dusting. A tennis ball covered in insulation tape had shot through the open French windows in the drawing room, bouncing off a painting over the mantelpiece and knocking over a crystal photo frame. The ball deftly made its way through the shards of glass that now covered the floor to finally disappear beneath the large leather sofa. Moments later, a breathless fifteen-year-old burst into the room.

‘Sorry, sorry, Mudassar Chacha,’ Inaya panted, pushing away the mop of unruly curls from her eyes. Impenitently, she crouched down and retrieved the ball. ‘Please blame this on Zain. Please!’

There was the sound of footsteps and Inaya spun around.

‘What are we blaming on Zain, Inaya?’ asked her father, Irfan, as he strode in, followed at a more sedate pace by her grandparents. Inaya gulped and looked at them sheepishly. The trio surveyed the scene in silence. Inaya clutched the ball behind her back, hoping they wouldn’t notice the smashed photo frame.

Inaya’s grandmother straightened the painting that had tilted leftwards with the ball’s impact. ‘If you don’t like your grandfather’s paintings, you should just tell him so, Inaya. As I do,’ said Humaira. ‘Why go to all the trouble of taking potshots at them through windows?’

‘But I do like Daada’s paintings—that was an accident,’ muttered Inaya.

Inaya’s father retrieved the photograph that was on the floor. He carefully removed the fragments of glass and propped the photograph against the ballerina on the mantelpiece.

‘Inaya, look at your great-grandmother—she was . . . the epitome of grace. She would be appalled by all this,’ he said, gesturing at the destruction that lay before him. ‘There’s more to life than cricket, you know.’

­­

In Across the Line, Nayanika Mahtani presents a powerful story of borders and beliefs, shaped by the games people play. Lauded by Vidya Balan as a story that “lingers long after the last page is turned”, Jai and Inaya’s story brings together unlikely worlds across time and borders.

error: Content is protected !!