Thrill a minute

Here’s a list of books that will keep you reading late into the night

 

I am happy to report that the sequel to my book, Race Course Road, is finally done. I spent the last month putting the final touches to the manuscript before sending it off for typesetting, and in a couple of months, Madam Prime Minister will be available in all good bookshops across the country (and on Kindle, obviously).

 

So, how did I celebrate, you ask. Well, having spent so much time writing, revising, and proofing, I treated myself to a reading extravaganza, bingeing on my favourite genre: thrillers of every persuasion. Here’s a small sample of what I devoured. You might want to taste a mouthful or two as well. 

 

A Slow Fire Burning by Paula Hawkins

 

If you loved The Girl On The Train, you will enjoy this new thriller from Hawkins. The story begins with the murder of a young man on a houseboat, with suspicion immediately falling on a blood-soaked girl who is seen leaving the boat soon before his body is discovered. But as is usual with Hawkins, nothing is as it seems, and the suspects pile up as the plot becomes more and more complicated. And the denouement, when it comes, will be nothing like you imagined. 

 

You Love Me by Caroline Kepnes 

 

I remember being completely blown away by You, the first novel to feature Joe Goldberg as its anti-hero, when it first came out. Written from the point of view of a stalker, and later, murderer, it was quite unlike anything I had ever read. The second book in the series, Hidden Bodies, was quite as unsettling – as was the Netflix adaptation of the series. But this, the third outing of Joe, finds our protagonist looking to put his past behind him and settle down, thanks to the love of a good woman. Needless to say, nothing goes according to plan, as Joe’s essential nature reasserts itself. 

 

Hostage by Clare Mackintosh

 

This is another edge-of-the-seat thriller by the Queen of Suspense. Flight attendant Mina, grappling with marital woes, volunteers to do duty on an inaugural 20-hour non-stop flight from London to Sydney. But soon after take-off, she is handed a note by a passenger: the plane should not reach its destination, or else something will happen to her five-year-old daughter back home. How do you balance the lives of so many strangers on the airplane with that of one life: that of your daughter? There are no good answers to that question.  

 

Big Summer by Jennifer Weiner

 

Daphne Berg and Drue Cavanaugh were unlikely friends in high school until a humiliating (for Daphne) incident destroyed their relationship. Now, six years later, Daphne – always a big girl – has become a plus-sized influencer on Instagram, when Drue reappears in her life, contrite about what split them apart and insistent that Daphne attend her upcoming society wedding on Cape Cod as her bridesmaid. Daphne agrees and that’s when things take a turn and this book turns from a lighthearted comedy to a murder mystery. This abrupt switching of genres might jar in the hands of a lesser writer but Weiner, as always, makes it work. 

 

Not A Happy Family by Shari Lapena

 

Fred and Sheila Merton host Easter dinner for their three children (and their partners) and make an unexpected announcement that causes tempers to flare and disagreements ensue. The next day, the couple are found dead, murdered by person or persons unknown. Were the murders the result of a break-in gone wrong or did one of their children finally snap and kill them? Suspicion falls on every member of the family as the story unfolds, and the suspense is built so skillfully that you will find it hard to put this book down.

 

False Witness by Karin Slaughter

 

Your past has a way of catching up with you no matter how hard you try to leave it behind. Leigh Collier has overcome a traumatic childhood to build an ordinary life as a defence attorney with a teenage daughter she co-parents with her husband, from whom she is amicably separated. But then, she comes face-to-face with a client, who knows exactly what she is trying to escape from her past. And the only way to deal with him is to enlist the help of her younger, estranged sister, Callie. Part family tragedy, part thriller, this story will keep you up at night.

 

One year of Covid

Here’s what has kept me going these past 12 months

 

As I sit down to write this column, it is exactly one year since we first went into a Covid-induced lockdown. As anniversaries go, this one is pretty grim, mostly because the virus is still alive and well and kicking our ass. After a brief period during which cases went down – inducing hope and optimism among us all – the counts are going up every day, thanks to the various variants that are spreading rapidly among the population. 

 

But even as we struggle to see light at the end of this particular tunnel, I think it makes sense to pause and give thanks to what sustained us as we lived through a pandemic. So, here, in no particular order of importance, is a list of all that I am thankful for this past year.

 

·       My book project: If I hadn’t had a writing project to focus on, I think the enforced isolation of the past year would have driven me mad. But, as luck would have it, I was halfway through the sequel to my political thriller, Race Course Road, when Covid struck. So, I could use the time that I was sequestered at home to concentrate on finishing my book. And that’s exactly what I did, spending every afternoon hunched over my laptop, furiously writing and revising. I am happy to report that I am all done now, and my new novel will be out by the end of the year – by when, with luck, Covid will have run its course, and I can actually promote it in person rather than on Zoom. Well, here’s hoping, anyway.

 

·       My Kindle: If writing sustained one part of me, reading kept the other half stimulated. And I couldn’t have done that without my trusty Kindle during those dark months when bookshops were shut and the only way to access new releases was to download them on an e-reader. Once I was done with new titles, I fell back on my comfort reads, scouring for old titles that had kept me entertained during my school and college days. That meant everything from Enid Blyton’s Mallory Towers series (yes, really!) to some of my favourite Georgette Heyers to such classics as Nora Ephron’s Heartburn.

 

·       Mini-breaks: After many months spent in lockdown, it felt like a special treat to head out for a mini-break, even if it was to destinations that were a few hours’ drive away. Even cities like Jaipur and Agra that we tend to take for granted in normal times, took on an exotic hue in my travel-starved eyes, as we ventured forth from home after being cooped up for what felt like forever. And it didn’t seem to matter that we spent our days within the confines of our hotel; it still felt like a lucky escape to an alternate universe so that we could return refreshed to our normal, humdrum lives.

 

·       Walks in the parks: Mini-breaks are well and good, but a girl also needs something to break the tedium of the normal workday. And if that girl is lucky enough to live in Delhi, then a walk in the park is just the ticket. Over the last few months, I have marked the end of my writing time by slipping on my sneakers, pulling on my mask and heading out to one of the many parks that litter Delhi. There are about four on my list and I alternate my walks between them, varying my route every day so that I have fresh vistas to gaze on, varied flowers to smell, and different monuments to marvel at. Without that blast of fresh air to blow my workday woes away, I don’t think I could have coped. 

 

There was much else that sustained me, of course. The companionship of my husband; the love and embrace of family; the supportiveness of friends. But most of all, it was the hope that we would all see better days soon.   

 

The bell tolls for thee...

Given the fragility of life, it makes sense to make the most of every moment granted to us

Even though I never knew Wendell Rodricks particularly well – I only ever met him on a couple of occasions – I was still shattered to hear of his passing. For one thing he was only 59, an absurdly young age to die. And then there was the fact that news of his demise came out of the blue, administering a shock to all those who knew him – or even just knew of him. But more than that, his death also came as a reminder of the fragility of human life. We may be alive and well, feverishly planning our future one minute; and gone to the great beyond the next, with all our plans left undone. 

The truth that we rarely have the courage to face up to is that our lives may end at any moment. There is no guarantee of getting up in the morning when we go to sleep at night. But even though from time to time we all employ the cliché of ‘living as if every moment would be our last’ we don’t always practice what we preach. 

But Wendell’s passing got me thinking. If I knew that I had only a finite amount of time left on earth, what would I do with it? Well, here’s what I came up with:

• Forgive and forget: All of us carry around grievances – justified or not – against some people in our lives. And very few of us can see a way to get beyond them. So, the bitterness festers and destroys relationships. Anger seeps deep within us and becomes our default emotion. And soon we are so locked into our positions that we can’t break out of them. Well, I’m going to let these intimations of mortality push me into making an effort to break those patterns and find a way to get past my anger and resentment. I’m going to try and forgive those have sinned against me; and ask for forgiveness from those I have sinned against. Forgetting is a bit harder than forgiving, but I am going to make that effort nonetheless. 

• Open lines of communication: With the pace of modern life overwhelming us all, we have lost the fine art of conversation. Rarely if ever do we ever chat about the things that matter with the people we love and cherish. We would much rather Whatsapp than have a phone conversation. We eat our dinner in front of the television watching a Netflix show rather than at the table where we can speak to each other. And even when we do talk, it is about mundane things like what to make for lunch or who will pay the electricity bill instead of meaningful things that could bring us closer to one another. That’s one thing I am determined to change. Communication is the key to healthy relationships – and to a happier life. And those two goals are going to be my primary motivation now.

• Tell the people you love that you love them: Whenever there is an outpouring of love for a recently-deceased person on social media, I can’t help but wonder how many of those paying tribute ever said all these lovely things to the person when he or she was alive. My guess is that very few – if any – did. So, my resolution from now on is to tell the people I love – family, friends, colleagues – that I love them when they are still around to appreciate the sentiment. And I am going to do that not just by words (though a well-timed “I love you” never goes unappreciated) but by deed as well. That means making time for them, taking an interest in their lives, even buying them the odd, unexpected gift – anything that shows that they matter to me.

• Start a gratitude journal: Yes, I know, it sounds like the kind of thing that Gwyneth Paltrow would recommend on her website, Goop. But sometimes even Paltrow gets it right. And even though I was initially skeptical about the idea, I have started penning down one thing I am grateful for every day. And I have found that it concentrates the mind remarkably, forcing me to focus on the positive rather than dwell on the negative. And that’s not a bad way to negotiate life when you think about it. 

• Stop procrastinating: I am a past master at this. I sit down to write my book (a sequel to Race Course Road; coming soon, I promise!) and go down the rabbit hole of Twitter instead. I settle down with a book that I have been longing to read and get distracted by the news about the Delhi election. When I should be thinking of my column, I go into some sort of displacement activity like cleaning out my closet. All that comes to an end now. I am going to focus on the things that matter, stop wasting time to social media or mindless TV-watching. 

And yes, I am going to live my life as if every moment might be the last. And maybe, just maybe, you might want to do that too.

Checking out

When it comes to ‘stealing’ from a hotel, none of us is innocent

So, what was the last thing you ever ‘stole’ from a hotel? You can wipe that self-righteous smile off your face because you know that you did. It may have been something as innocuous as a mini-bottle of shower gel or conditioner or something as guilt-inducing as a bathrobe (yes, yes, I know it had your name embroidered on it; and you were never coming back to the hotel, yada, yada, yada) but you did take something that you were not really supposed to.

I ask this because that viral video of an Indian family caught stealing stuff from their Bali hotel has got me thinking. And while I would like to believe that most of us would refrain from such obvious thievery, there is no doubt in my mind that those of us who stay frequently in hotels often help ourselves to stuff that, strictly speaking, should not leave the premises.

I know this is true, because I am among those guilty as charged, as are most of my friends and family (who I polled hastily before sitting down to write this column). Of course, none of us have actually stolen hairdryers and artifacts like that now infamous family in Bali did, but all of us have helped ourselves to stuff as we packed to check out.

In the interest of transparency, here is a comprehensive list of all the things I have ever filched from hotel rooms: 

• It is almost taken for granted that guests will take some toiletries with them when they check out. Those mini-bottles of shampoo and shower gel are just the right size for airline carry-on bags, and some of the body lotions are quite divine. So, it should come as no surprise to you that I have pilfered my share of toiletries and snuck them into my wash bag. But my particular weakness, I have to confess, is shower caps. I always pack away a couple of extras in my bag for emergencies, as in when I am ready to step into the shower and realize that housekeeping hasn’t replaced the shower cap I used the day before.

• If a hotel places nail clippers, tweezers or nail files in my bathroom and I use them during my stay, I will pack them in my toilet bag when I leave. They are not going to reuse these (I hope!) and I would rather get more use out of them than let them fill some landfill somewhere. It’s my own personal contribution to the environment (I am just kidding; please don’t send me irate mails about how I am trivializing climate change.)

• Bathroom slippers made of that awful terrycloth fabric? Never. Beach chappals made of coir and weaving and just perfect for walking on the sand? Many a time. My reasoning is simple. The hotel is not going to recycle these beach chappals for their next guest. They are just going to throw them into the trash heap and they will be left to fester in some garbage dump for years. Much better then to take them home and use them on my next beach holiday.

• Most hotels these days will provide you with a kettle and a coffee maker in your room. And I think it goes without saying that you should not take the coffee capsules (even if they are just the right size for your machine back home) and tea bags home. But I have a confession to make. I do steal a few sachets of Splenda or Stevia and stash them in my handbag, especially if I am in a small town either in India or abroad. Not because I am greedy but because I am diabetic. And all too often I find myself in establishments that don’t serve artificial sweeteners with tea and coffee. That’s when those ‘stolen’ sachets turn into literal life-savers for me. 

• Personalised amenities are a minefield as far as I am concerned. Most luxury hotels these days take great pride in placing amenities in your rooms that are meaningful to you in some way. So, the dilemma when I check out is should I take them with me or leave them for the hotel to reuse on my next stay.

There is no good answer to this one. A few years ago, I stayed at a hotel that placed an ink portrait of mine by my husband’s bedside. It was a beautiful – and very flattering – picture and I was very tempted to take it with me when I left. My husband demurred; they would use it on our next stay, he said. We should not take it with us. Well, we have been back to that hotel many times since and that portrait has never made a re-appearance. (And yes, I still berate him about it.)

Which goes some way to explain why I chose to pack two teeny-tiny cushions that another hotel had personalized for me with the names of my last two books: my novel, Race Course Road, and my first non-fiction title, Woman On Top. Nobody else could have the slightest interest in them. And I didn’t want to run the risk of never seeing them again.

Does any of this count as ‘stealing’? Yes, strictly speaking, it does. Does any of this make me a ‘thief’? Well, I would like to think not. But the jury is probably out on that one.

It's only words

Want to write that book that’s bubbling up within you? Here are some tips to get going

Last month my book, Race Course Road, turned one. And never before have I been quite so excited by an anniversary. So, like all proud parents, I have been planning special events to celebrate this landmark, everything from giveaway contests, to social media campaigns and book events across the country.

But as things settle down, and I look back on the year past, I finally begin to appreciate what a wild ride it has been. This was the year I turned into an interviewee from an interviewer. This was the year I topped the bestseller list – a first for me. And then there was the novel sensation of having film production companies reach out to me for the movie and digital rights to Race Course Road.

Through all this, though, there was one question that kept cropping up wherever I went. What are your tips for writing a book?

I usually replied with whatever inanity that popped into my head at that moment. But as I sit down on my desk again to work on the sequel to Race Course Road, I have been thinking hard about the answers to that question. Real answers, that is, that would actually help those sitting down to write their own novel.

And here, for what it is worth, is what I came up with, based entirely on what worked for me.

• There is nothing more terrifying than a blank page. So before you sit down to write your book, spend some time in preparing for that venture. Make notes about where you want your story to go, think about crucial plot twists. If you are organized enough, then doing chapter break-ups is a good idea because it allows you to pace yourself. And it always useful to flesh out your characters in your head before you sit down to write.

• And then, when you finally sit down to write, be prepared to junk all of it if necessary. This is just a way to settle your nerves, to muster up the courage to make that first keystroke. This is not a masterplan that you must follow at all cost. If the story wants to go in a different direction, allow it to do so, and see what happens. If some characters surprise you on the page, don’t clamp down and put them back in their fictional straitjackets. Just like real-life people, characters in a book have a life of their own. Let them live it as they see fit.

• Don’t wait for the muse to strike. If you do that you will be waiting forever. Just sit down and start writing. It doesn’t matter if it seems like heavy going. Don’t worry if every single word on the page seems wrong. You can always go back and re-write or edit – or even junk it altogether. But it is essential that you start the process. Because unless you start you can never finish.

• And then persevere. The best way to do this is to set yourself a deadline. It could be 500 words a day. It could be a chapter in a week. Or even an entire book in 14 months. Once you have set this internal deadline, try your best to stick to it. But if you miss out on a particular week’s target, don’t beat yourself up over it. Just try and make up in the following fortnight.

• If there is one thing I can promise you, it is this: it won’t be easy. There will be times when the words will refuse to come. There will be times when you will tempted to delete everything you’ve written and just give up. Don’t do that. Take a deep breath, step away from the computer for a bit until you calm down. And then reevaluate when you are feeling less emotional.

• Most important of all: give yourself a break occasionally. Treat yourself to some time off when you have finished a chapter or negotiated a particularly tricky plot twist. You can use this time to go on a mini-break or just chill on the sofa all day long. But time off is vital to come back to your manuscript refreshed and with a fresh eye. 

• Don’t stop reading just because you are writing. Read a good book to get inspired. Read a bad book to feel better about your own writing. Reward yourself with a page-turner when you’ve met a deadline. And stick to serious non-fiction while writing so that you don’t get distracted by the thought of what happens next.

• Stay off the internet while you are writing. Switch off the wifi in your home, put your phone on airplane mode. And see the difference it makes to your productivity.

• Writing is a lonely business. So it always helps to have a book buddy, someone you can rehash plot points with, who can be your first reader and give you unbiased and honest feedback. In my case, it was my husband but I wouldn’t recommend that to everyone. Frank criticism can place some strain on the happiest of marriages; so make sure yours can bear up under that weight.

And with that load off my chest, allow me to wish you “Happy Writing”. I look forward to reading that book that currently resides within you.

The book's the thing

The story behind my first novel – a thriller set in the world of Indian politics

You know how the joke goes. Everybody has a book inside them – and in most cases that is where it should stay.

Well, it’s too late for me now. My book is already out, rolling hot off the presses, and available on Amazon and at all good bookshops near you. As for whether it was better inside me or out in the world, well, there’s only one way to decide that question. Buy a copy and make up your own mind!

Sorry for that bit of shameless self-promotion but perhaps you can indulge me just this once. I am still giddy with delight, having unpacked the box containing the first hardback copies of my novel, Race Course Road (Aleph Book Company). Since you ask, it’s a thriller set in the world of Indian politics and deals with the aftermath of a Prime Minister’s assassination. Most of the action centers around Lutyens’ Delhi and the Prime Minister’s residence on Race Course Road – hence the title. (Yes, yes, I know, it’s now called Lok Kalyan Marg; but you have to admit that doesn’t have the same ring when it comes to book titles.)

So, here I am, with a silly grin that refuses to move off my face, and a mind that refuses to think of (let alone write about) anything other than my book. Did I mention it was called Race Course Road?

Over the last week or so, ever since the book went on sale and I began the never-ending process of trying to flog it, I have been asked the same questions both in real life and on social media by those who have picked up a copy. 

The first one inevitably is: why did I decide to write a thriller set in the world of Indian politics? 

That one’s easy. As all those advice manuals keep telling you, ‘write what you know’. And, for better or for worse, this was what I knew. I first started writing about Indian politics way back in the late 80s and early 90s, when India was going through a political churn like no other, with one unstable coalition taking over from the other. 

Despite the fact that I was straight out of college, with no real experience of either journalism or politics, I found myself thrown into the deep end, being sent off to interview Prime Ministers (VP Singh and Chandra Shekhar) on their first day in South Block, resulting in page-one bylines that I cherish to this day. I followed such stalwarts as Madhavrao Scindia on the campaign trail, driving with him in a rickety Ambassador car through dusty villages and sleepy small towns, feasting on the stories he regaled me with. And I interviewed everyone from Atal Behari Vajpayee to Kamal Nath to Uma Bharati, as I climbed up the ranks at work.

As luck would have it, I developed a certain familiarity with the Race Course Road complex over the years as well, visiting it both in a professional and personal capacity. The workings of the place fascinated me: the security set-up that ensured that no guest was ever left unaccompanied; the many different channels of entry in place for people with different levels of clearance (a ‘green-channel entry’, for instance, meant that no record was ever kept of your visit); the air of inviolable privacy it exuded. 

It was this fascination, in part, that led me to base most of my book in RCR (and to name it Race Course Road). It seemed a bit odd to me that most Indians have no idea how RCR is actually laid out, even though so many Prime Ministers have lived and worked there. Unlike the White House, that conducts tours so that ordinary citizens can walk through the seat of government in America, the RCR complex is out of bounds for most of us. 

Very few people even realize that 7 Race Course Road, the official address of the Indian Prime Minister, is not where he actually lives; it’s the office complex where his secretariat is stationed, where meetings are conducted, where the Cabinet sometimes meets, and where foreign dignitaries come to call on him. Over the years, Prime Ministers have lived in either Number 3 or Number 5 Race Course Road, while Number 9 has been taken over by the SPG, and Number 1 by a helipad. 

But while the book is set squarely in the real world, none of the characters in it are based on real life people – to answer the second most frequently asked question. Yes, I know that’s not going to deter those who are determined to find parallels with real life but for what it’s worth, here’s my disclaimer: all the characters are figments of my imagination, and have no existence outside of my own mind. 

And as for that perennial query: how does one keep going at writing a book when the end doesn’t appear in sight? Well, the answer is pretty simple. Take things one day at a time. Make sure you get at least 500 words down every day. Write even if the words are not coming (you can always edit – or even delete – the day after). Read good books to get inspired. Read bad books to feel better about your own writing. And write, write, write, until the damn thing is done!

Happy New Year!

Instead of New Year resolutions, here's my to-do list for 2018

I decided a few years ago that I wasn't going to bother with New Year resolutions any longer. And I find that the decision has served me well. No longer do I psych myself to achieve goals that I inevitably give up on a few months into the year. And nor do I feel that crushing sense of failure when I can't live up to my own expectations. 

So that resolution stands: no more resolutions for the new year. 

This January, however, I have decided that I will mark the advent of 2018 by compiling a to-do list of all that I hope to achieve - or at least work towards - this year. It is a suitably idiosyncratic and wildly varying list, so it may not make the best sense for all of you. But for me, this is just the ticket to make sure that 2018 trumps 2017 by a good margin. 

So, here goes, in no particular order of importance: 

* A couple of bereavements over the last two years have taught me an important lesson: it is never a good idea to leave your stuff behind for other people to deal with. So, with that in mind, I have resolved that this is going to be the year of giving away. Books that I am never going to re-read. Clothes that haven't seen the light of day in 12 months. Costume jewellery that is now too young for me (shoes and bags, ditto). DVDs, knick-knacks, mementos from trips long-forgotten. It all goes. By the time next January rolls around, I hope to have decluttered completely. 

* Of course, all of the above would be useless if I kept on buying more stuff to take the place of what I have given away. So the next item on my to-do list is to buy less. No more shoe-shopping orgies in which I notch up a dozen shoes without even realizing what I am doing. No buying another winter coat when the ones I have in my closet barely get any wear. No more buying physical books unless they're the kind I will want to read again and again (for the rest, the Kindle is a good enough home). And for every single item I buy, I have to get rid of one thing I already possess. That should put a dose of discipline into the proceedings.  

* Talking of books, this is the year when I read more and tweet less (and spend less time on Internet generally). Even those who finish a book a day can only read around 25,000-odd books in their entire lifetime (give or take 70 years). And with every birthday, the number of books that I can realistically read before I depart for the great library in the sky gets less and less. So, it's time to hunker down and devour all the books I always meant to read - but never got around to starting. 

* The year 2017 will always be special to me because I finished my first novel, Race Course Road, in its closing months (it will be released in February this year). And I am hoping I can make 2018 count as well by going back to the manuscript I abandoned half-way to work on this book and getting that across the finish line as well. 

* For the past couple of years, I have been keeping my sugar levels under control by taking long walks when the weather and pollution permits or by joylessly toiling away on my cross-trainer with one eye trained on the television. But that was only until I discovered that I could notch up many more calories burnt and achieve a much higher heart rate if I slipping my earphones in and danced the hour away instead. So, that is going to be my fitness motto for this year: walk less, dance more. (And have much more fun in the process!)

* But while cardio is great for the body, I also intend to nourish my mind. And that's where yoga comes in. No, not the kind in which you push yourself into all kinds of contortions in overheated rooms in the hope of losing weight. But the kind that teaches you to breathe right, shows you how to relax your racing brain, helps your stress levels with the right meditation techniques and allows you to become more in tune with your body and mind. You know the kind that our forefathers used to practice, where you listen to your body and let it lead you instead of trying to beat it into submission. Yes, that's the kind of yoga I am going to immerse myself in this year.

* And then, with a bit of luck, I will be in the right frame of mind to embark on my final - and hopefully, most rewarding - adventure of the year. My own personal rediscovery of Hinduism and the philosophical constructs at the heart of my faith. Given the virulent strands of Hindutva that engulf our public life these days, I think it is more important that ever to do a refresher course in all that Hinduism actually stands for. Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam. The world is one family. That seems like a good place to start.