Refreshing Memories With Nancy

Nancy Drew

It’s been long — literally years — since I abandoned Nancy Drew to the unavoidable circumstance of growing up.

After such a long time, I was able to lay my hands again on the series when I visited a book fair at home.

This book fair comes to my hometown twice a year; in July and in December. And though I have been to the fair more times than I care to remember, I am, unashamedly, every time overwhelmed by the collection they seem to display.

Any vain pride that I have about knowing a lot of books, is just washed away in a huge wave of unheard authors and books.

But it was Nancy Drew that helped buried memories surface. So I bought a Nancy Drew: Girl Detective trilogy. (I didn’t even know Nancy Drew came in trilogies!) This particular trilogy is the Eco Mystery Trilogy.

I started reading the first book and was surprised (like countless times before when it came to books,) with the narrative. All of the previous Nancy drew books I had read followed the third person narrative. This trilogy however, was of Aladdin Publications (whose books I’ve never read before)  and followed the first person point of view. That was unexpected. I have never experienced Nancy describing a situation from her view. It was rather bizarre. It had always been the narrator-writer, Carolyn Keene, who told us about Nancy and her friends.

This Aladdin Publications raised a question in my mind: how was the stories originally written? It is possible that the author herself adopted a change of point of view? As always, I turned to Wikipedia. It says that Carolyn Keene was a pseudonym that multiple authors wrote by. So Nancy Drew was a work of multiple authors, the revelation leaves me a little disappointed.

Moving on to other things, there was one other thing about the story that caught my attention than anything else. It was the simplicity of the narration. This is one thing that almost everyone speaks of nowadays. But what I’m trying to point out here is that the books are so simply written that it involves less or no effort to read it.

That’s really important, in any book. As we grow up, we move on to bigger and, what we assume, better books that are merely complicated reads. In other words, they are just simply too tough to read easily. Which is one of the reasons reading has become a chore.

Mysteries are knotted, complicated and twisted. If a writer (or many) can vividly bring crime scenes to our minds, without using twisted vocabulary and grammar, then it is a good read, isn’t it?

Children’s and young adult mysteries like The Famous Five, The Secret Seven, Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys are all great examples of simply describing serious plots.

We do need more of such books, if we are to encourage youngsters to read. Maybe after reading effortlessly and loving it, kids would opt to explore the more complicated plots.

Just a random thought.

Incredible India!

India is known worldwide as a country that promotes “unity in diversity”. Well, I don’t know about unity, (or to be more specific, I’d rather not talk of it) but ‘diversity’ — that I can guarantee.

It’s not really a surprise, is it? India is a diverse land, that’s what we’ve been told all our lives.

Now, a few days ago, I had to travel to Chennai from home. A journey that, on Indian Railways, takes 5 1/2 hours during the day and around 7 hours after sun down. On that day, I was on a night train, a non A/C compartment.

It was my first time travelling non A/C. Now, I love third class A/C. (I haven’t been on the first and second classes, so I can’t compare.) You have a bottle stand, a book stand, a comfortable white bed sheet and a super-warm blanket. Sounds cozy? Yes it is.

I, being oh so naive, expected at least a bed sheet in non A/C. Disappointed, I was. As always with Indian Railways.

There was no bottle stand, no book stand, no bed sheet and absolutely nothing warm. And it didn’t help that ‘twas the coldest month of the year here in the South. There were quite a lot of mosquitoes though — OK, I don’t blame the Railways for that — but for the rest, I wouldn’t say I don’t.

But there was one thing on the non A/C compartment that wasn’t on the A/C ones: ceiling fans! And guess what, I got the upper berth. Some good guy thought it would be warm during the night and decided to click on those switches.

Oh, yes it got worse.

Having no book stand, I didn’t know where to put my specks, so I clutched on to it in my hand and tried my best to fall asleep without shattering it. The good thing is, my specks remained intact, but I lost sleep. The cold was too much.

That night was an eye opener. (Literally as well) I thought of all those days I had comfortably settled in the A/C compartment, when there were people, just compartments away, shivering.

OK, maybe that sounded more emotional than I intended it to. It’s the cold fact.

That night, I was reminded how much we value money. If you have more, you get to be comfortable, if you’re willing to spend a little less, then settle uncomfortably. There’s the first, second and third A/C, and then there’s the non A/C. Not to mention the unreserved compartment where you’re not guaranteed a seat. Such diversity. In a single train.

It’s the same nation-wide. Every day, we see incidents, people and habits that are so diverse in nature. And although it’s common world-wide, India always has a special place in my heart.

Not much of a surprise, right? India holds the record for most number of castes in the world. And no two castes are similar. I don’t even need stats to prove it.

Then there’s the financial status. I don’t think I have heard of low class, middle class, lower middle class, upper middle class or the upper class, all mentioned in one place.

Incredible India, huh?

Opinions matter… Or do they?

We humans are oh so opinionated. Where ever we go, what ever we do, we always seem to have an opinion about everything.

Take me, for instance. I wouldn’t be writing anything here unless I have an opinion about — well, opinions.

Where ever there’s a group, there’s sure to be opinions. Mixed, certain, unsure, for, against — they come in different labels. But the end thing is same — variety.

Not many people have the same opinions. Yes, we agree with others, but we always seem to have something more to add. Something more valuable, we presume.

Businesses, corporates thrive on varying opinions. Everyone sit together and discuss their opinions — they call it brainstorming. This happens for hours, before they all, almost always, agree with what the boss says.

Now, that’s not the matter. That shit happens every where.

What happens when you don’t have an opinion of something?

That’s me. Yes, it is.

I participate in a meeting, but I seldom contribute. People perceive me as shy and backward. But really, I shut up when I don’t have anything to say.

And that’s not wrong, it’s just a choice.

But no,” they say,how can you not have an opinion?

Honestly, what would a common man know of NASA’s latest research methods? How can one blindly agree (or disagree) that NASA’s funding is too much? (I’m saying that only because I recently read Dan Brown’s ‘Deception Point’)

I can’t criticize the way they make rocket ships or sea ships. I simply don’t know.

How can I possibly justify saying for or against something I don’t understand? I can’t. So, I don’t.

But no, people do want opinions. If I don’t have an opinion, then I’m a fool. (Mind you, there are also loads of highly opinionated fools out there.)

But I think accepting my ignorance of a particular concept is also an opinion. My opinion is that I don’t know enough of the matter, or that person, or that incident to discuss further.

There! I said it. It’s ok to not know. It’s ok to not be curious. It’s ok to be unaware. It’s ok to not have an opinion.

Not having an opinion is stating boldly that I don’t know and that I don’t care.

In case you’ve missed my point: we don’t have to be opinionated about every other thing.

It’s all just my opinion anyway, feel free to disagree.

A Journey Within… on the Highway

I think we made a huge mistake going for the movie. It made me ache in places I didn’t know I had. “A journey within” was the caption. I should have expected it.It was a really deep journey. Particularly the last 45 minutes, with a deep message — a social one (obviously!) but told in a subtly pricking way.

The locations were amazing. The music — needless to say, a A.R. Rahman musical. But there was something else — something that made me feel like I’m missing out on something in life. Obvious, you might think. Because it is. I am missing the liveliness of Nature. And watching Alia Bhatt reminded me a bit of a nomad’s life. Perhaps it was the icy mountains that added to the coldness that the movie ended with.

Later, when I was back home trying hard to not visualize the scenes in front of my eyes, something quite unexpected happened. Every programme on tv, and everything I spoke of with my room mates, reminded me of the movie. I simply couldn’t get it out of my mind. Even now, as I’m typing out this piece, first thing in the morning, I am listening to the songs. It seems like I can’t get over it, like trying to give up after multiple attempts at an unrequited love interest.

The greatest thing about the movie was that it was a love story, but not a love story too. It’s not one that we’re used to in Indian cinema. I know we’ve heard that comment too many times to know better than to believe it, but really, for me, this was so different.

Here’s what I found out: everyone who watches that movie can find themselves relating to the characters at least once. And I don’t just mean the girls.

From what I could deduce from my fellow audience in the theatre, almost all of them had that glum feeling of being stuck in reality, and not being able to make that one journey within, the journey that could change our lives.

Even I, who can’t understand a word of Hindi, was moved by the movie. This movie will reach heights. It might not make a blockbuster hit, and make it rain dollars, but it will touch the people. And that’s what makes “Highway” a successful journey.

Valentine’s Day – or so they call it

Ah! Love is in the air.

Oh, really? I couldn’t care less. Everyone is talking about the great Valentine’s Day. Really, what is the purpose of Valentine’s Day? Everywhere I see, I can see shops all draped in red and pink with ridiculously stuffed hearts. Not to mention the sequins and the glitter that make them shine, and pain my eyes.

I’m not really against love. What I’m against is spending money on huge human sized greeting cards, each with a message of love(!), that someone wrote to make money.

I appreciate love. Pure and unconditional love. But, we don’t need a day to celebrate love, we don’t have to confine affection to one day. Any day is good for that.

Talking of unconditional love, I remember this short story. Enjoy, if you haven’t already.

The Gift of the Magi — O. Henry

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one’s cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

Read on…