Books, conventional as well as electronic, took us to worlds beyond our individual immediate. Readers took to memoirs as well as fiction, even as they sought perspectives, both Indian and Western, to understand life and people

Books and Beyond: Desi, with a ‘phoren’ touch

THE story of the man who contributed the most towards moving us from words printed on paper to those on electronic screens became a runaway bestseller of 2011. Steve Jobs gave us the devices that changed our reading habits, and here he was, being celebrated not only in his preferred media, but also in the conventional pulp book format. Reports of the ‘death of the book’ have been greatly exaggerated. Readership expanded, and both traditional publishers and e-book publishers gained.

Internationally, authors too gained, since they were now being courted by both kinds of publishers. Of course, those who wrote really good books, like the Delhi-born Siddhartha Mukherjee, added new feathers to their cap. This doctor-author got fresh recognition for his last year’s much-acclaimed book, The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer. While on his side of the pond, he won the prestigious 2011 Pulitzer Prize in the general non-fiction category, on the other side; he also bagged the Guardian First Book Award just before the year ended.

The writer of tomes Arun Shourie’s Does He Know a Mother’s Heart? touched the heart of everyone who read the story of his family’s battle with disabilities. We had yet another book, and another controversy, on Mahatma Gandhi, with Joseph Lelyveld’s Great Soul: Mahatma Gandhi and his Struggle with India.

Arundhati Roy, the great cerebral controversy queen, published a book without writing one, and thus we had Broken Republic: Three Essays. Talking of writers who published books without writing them, the king of the bestseller charts continued his winning streak with Khushwant Singh on Women, Sex, Love and Lust, which was compiled and edited by Ashok Chopra, as was Agnostic Khushwant: There is No God! which came out near the end of the year.

The man who has changed what the word ‘bestseller’ means for Indian publishing, Chetan Bhagat, built on his reputation by selling lakhs of books within days of releasing Revolution 2020: Love. Corruption. Ambition. Often books that critics love don’t make that much of an impact on bestseller lists. Among the top-10 list we consistently have two other Bhagat titles — 2 States: The Story of My Marriage and The Three Mistakes of My Life. Talking of numbers, we now have Nielsen BookScan which is gathering data from book stores and publishers nationwide.

We seek new understanding of the new world order and this has brought new books like Indian Mujahideen: The Enemy Within by Shishir Gupta and The Good Muslim by Tahmima Anam.

On the fiction front, Amitav Ghosh won much acclaim with his detailed and multi-layered work River of Smoke, Aravind Adiga gave us Last Man in Tower, Aatish Taseer Noon, and Tarun J. Tejpal The Valley of Masks.

Memoirs formed a significant part of our reading appetite, be they those of the veteran journalist S. Nihal Singh who wrote Ink in my Veins, or No Higher Honour by the former US Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice. Chandigarh’s own Abhinav Bindra teamed up with sports writer Rohit Brijnath and gave an interesting account in A Shot at History: My Obsessive Journey to Olympic Gold.‘Business tycoons gave their accounts of their lives, be it Vinay Bharat Ram whose From the Brink of Bankruptcy: The DCM Story made it to the bestseller list, or real estate magnates Ansals and DLF.

Yes, while international publishers sold many books to Indian readers, including some through various kinds of electronic devices and e-book readers, it was the traditional book that ruled the roost, and largely Indian authors found resonance among avid readers.

This article by Roopinder Singh was published in a special yearend issue of The Tribune titled 2011: The Year of Uprisings

Geek Nation: How Indian Science is Taking over the World
By Angela Saini.
Hodder & Stoughton/Hachette.
Pages 288. Rs 499.

A well-informed look at the world of science in India today

INDIAN techies have made a place for themselves the world over, so much so that they have eclipsed the achievers from their mother discipline, science. The IITs and other scientific institutions owe much to Jawaharlal Nehru who insisted that every Indian citizen should develop “scientific temper, humanism and the spirit of inquiry and reform”.

Geek Nation: How Indian Science is Taking over the World

It is common to see snapshots of contrarian symbols of India, rich/poor, advanced/backward, educated/uneducated and so on. It takes a passionate observer to go beyond them, which this writer has done in her journey to the land she believes was the birthplace of the geek.

The story goes back to 700 AD, when the Bakhshali manuscript is believed to have been written. It is one of the earliest scientific texts in Asia, and is now at the Bodleian Library at Oxford University, the author’s alma matter.

The author is a master’s in engineering and science journalist, and the combination makes for not only an engaging read but also a remarkably well-informed look at the world of science in India today. She takes us to the Vikram Sarabai Space Centre, and to a “small Hindu town of Melkote”.

Through her we meet the 88-year-old Prof. Udupi Ramachandra Rao, a space scientist and former chairman of the Indian Space Research Organisation. The redoubtable Naryana Murthy, who needs no introduction, Dr Pravendra Nath, a molecular biologist working on genetically modified bananas, Vandana Shiva, the scientist-turned activist who is leading the anti-GM fight in India, and a host of other committed individuals who give us many insights into scientific research in India.

Many of us know the tale of how someone’s blunder was the cause of Indians getting major exposure in the international stage, but the story bears revisiting. It was in the mid-1990s that Western governments and business woke up to the fact that many of their mainframe computers used programmes in which only the last two digits of the year was mentioned. Thus, as far as the computers were concerned, the year 2000 could well be 1900, 1800, whatever. With the year 2000 approaching, millions of lines of code had to be written, or all kinds of problems could arise in various sectors, including banks, airlines, public utilities, even nuclear installations, which used old mainframe computers, and more importantly, code written for them.

Indians were better qualified than others to do this because of their technical education as well as their knowledge of English. By the time the millennium bug had been tackled, Indian techies were an established force. However, Indian programmers were known to work like drones, and were not known to be innovators. But this is changing. While many IIT students are burned out by the time they get there, and how there is a movement within the IITs to counteract it, by creating Technocracy, a new group designed to give everyone the chance to build practical skills in their own time. Initiatives like this and increased funding have resulted in more focus on research, and a larger number of patents being issued to IITians.

Saini explores how science and religion co-exist in India, so much so that there are many who claim that scientific knowledge has it origins in ancient Indian texts. She meets Sanskrit scholars and sees their blueprint of an ancient aircraft described in the Vaimanika Shastra, translated by G.R. Josyer, in 1946. She also finds the paper by five researchers at the Indian Institute of Science in Bengalaru, who ripped apart the text.

If religion has many believers in India, so does science. Sometimes I wonder how we can accept brain scanner, or a “mind-reading machine”. The writer investigates the claims of C.R. Mukndan, the machine’s inventor, and finds no validation for his invention in the international scientific community. Yet, the “scientific” evidence based on this device is cited, and accepted, in courts.

We know of Lavasa when its environmental transgressions hit headlines. The author talks of it as the first city designed for Generation Y. She also talks of how people who were displaced because of this development throw stones at cars going in and out of the area.

We are informed about the e-governance initiatives that are being undertaken, even in courts, of cutting edge research in medicine and genomes, of mindsets regarding patents, even visit the 97th Indian Science Congress, where Prime Minister Manmohan Singh made his “The empires of the future are going to be the empires of the mind”, statement.

The writer combines pragmatism with passion. Through this journey we learn to appreciate the possibilities of change around us, and it leaves us looking at the future quite positively.

This review by Roopinder Singh was published in the Spectrum section of The Tribune on July 3, 2011.

EYE-CATCHER

Japuji Sahib: Prayer of the Soul

By Ranjodh Singh.

Wisdom Collection, Ludhiana. Pages 96. Rs 995.

Japuji Sahib: Prayer of the Soul

JAPUJI Sahib remains Guru Nanak Dev’s most popular composition which has a unique position in the minds of millions of Sikhs as well as the world at large. It holds a special attraction for scholars and devotees, and has been translated into many languages. The author gives the meaning of the text in both Gurmukhi as well as English. An accomplished photographer, he has chosen images on which the text is transcribed with care to appropriately reflect the thoughts expressed in the stanzas on which the text is printed. Paintings by artists like Sobha Singh, Kirpal Singh, GS Sohan Singh and Jarnail Singh have also been used to illustrate the volume. The lavishly printed coffee-table book, the royalties of which go to a charity, will find a place on many a book shelf.

—   Roopinder Singh

This write-up was published in The Tribune on June 26, 2011

A NEW literary publishing company was born last week. Penguin Canada’s former boss and author David Davidar and Rupa Publications India Managing Director Kapish G. Mehra announced the birth of the Aleph Book Company, a joint venture. Aleph will have its headquarters in Delhi.

Rupa Publications’ managing director Kapish G. Mehra (left) and noted publisher-writer David Davidar at the launch of their joint venture, Aleph Book Company, in New Delhi last week

The following are excerpts from Roopinder Singh’s exclusive e-mail interview with David Davidar:

Since when have you been thinking of launching your own publishing house?

I’ve been thinking of launching my own publishing company for about six months now.

What made you tie up with Rupa?

Over the past few months, I had conversations about my future plans with nine companies in total. While eight companies approached me, I approached one. After all the talking was done, there were three options to consider - some of them wanted me to be CEO or publisher of their firms, some wanted me to start an imprint for them and some were interested in backing (financially) the company I was proposing to start.

Of all the companies, Rupa checked the most boxes for me - they were one of the country’s leading publishing firms and, in my opinion, sold and distributed their books better than anyone else (importantly, they owned their distribution infrastructure, so they could distribute Aleph’s books effectively); they were happy to partner with me to start a new company; their publishing was completely different from the sort of publishing I was proposing to do, so the books the two firms put out would complement each other; we shared a common vision of where we wanted to be five years from now; and I had a high degree of trust in them as potential business partners - this last qualification was especially important to me.

What kind of books will Aleph be publishing?

Broadly speaking, upmarket literary fiction and non-fiction.

How will Aleph titles be different from those published by Rupa?

While Rupa is a strong mass-market publisher, Aleph will be a literary publisher.

Which authors do we expect to join the Aleph stable?

I can’t tell you yet, but we will be announcing our first list in December and will publish three-four months later.

Is your novel Ithaca on schedule? Who will be publishing it in India?

Yes, it is. HarperCollins will publish it in September.

Will you have a role in Rupa publications as well?

Yes, I will be a consultant to Rupa on editorial matters and publishing strategy.

How do you see the future of digital publishing in India? What kind of digital platforms will Aleph be embracing?

I think digital publishing will play a very large role in Indian publishing a few years hence. It hasn’t caught on in the way it has in North America, for example, but it will only be a matter of time - two years at the outside. Aleph will explore every form of digital publishing available - straightforward e-books, enhanced/interactive e-books, standalone e-books, and anything else that might come along.

Great Soul: Mahatma Gandhi and his Struggle with India
By Joseph Lelyveld. Harper Collins. Pages 425. Rs 699.

LONG after he was assassinated, Mahatma Gandhi lives — in the hearts of those who regard him with awe; in the minds of those who read his works and seek to follow his path; on the lips of politicians of all hues, who profess to be his followers; and in the pages of writers and researchers who mine his teachings and life as a part of their literary pursuits.

Great Soul: Mahatma Gandhi and his Struggle with India by Joseph Lelyveld

Joseph Lelyveld is the latest, and by far not the last biographer of the man whose own collected works run into a 100 volumes of around 500 pages each.

“Sage, spokesman, pamphleteer, petitioner, agitator, seer, pilgrim, dietician, nurse and scold (sic)-Gandhi tirelessly inhabited each of these roles until they blended into a recognisable whole,” says Lelyveld even as he follows Gandhi’s footsteps through South Africa to India and England.

Since Gandhi meticulously documented his life, and his thoughts, like other biographers and commentators, Lelyveld has relied heavily on them. With the benefit of having lived in South Africa and India for significant periods of his professional life, he has also explored the making of the Mahatma. He says that it was in 1908, 15 years after he came to South Africa that “the ambitious, transplanted barrister becomes recognisable as the Gandhi who would later be called the Mahatma.”

Those who deify Gandhi often ignore the fact that it took him long years of self exploration, exposure, and grappling with issues to come to the stature of a leader who finally helped to oust the British colonial rulers out of India. Through the book, we see a man who is sensitive to the slights inflicted on him and other Indians by the whites, but not so much to the plight of the majority community in South Africa. After a protest, he expressed indignation at being interned with the native blacks of South Africa. Does this make him a racist or just a human being with flaws? It depends on your point of view, but remember, this is a transitional phase in the life of a person who would truly achieve greatness later.

Many readers will be richer by reading about Gandhi in South Africa, and indeed, the author has treated his subject with inquisitiveness as well as empathy. The book was almost banned before it hit the Indian shores. Credit must be given to the Central government which took a mature stand and has allowed the book to come into the hands of Indian readers.

The controversy regarding the correspondence between Mahatma Gandhi and his German friend Hermann Kallenbach, which has been quoted in the book and innuendos about Gandhi’s sexual orientation, served to pique the reader’s interest to a degree that led to record sales. The letters are there, as is the fact that they had a close bond. Many Indians are comfortable with intense same-sex bonding sans any sexual connotation. Westerners often read it differently, and the author is sensitive to various interpretations.

Overall, during this period, we find Gandhi taking his first tentative steps towards politics, and the ups and downs that come with treading this path. Two telling pictures, one of Gandhi and his wife Kasturba leaving South Africa, and another, besides it, of the two six months later, in Bombay, show the sartorial metamorphosis of the man (three-piece suit to a dhoti-kurta), and reflects the change in his focus.

As for the Indian experience, we have heard it, read it and seen it, but when the author interjects into the narrative, it brings a present tense into the book, which can both be refreshing as well as a bit disconcerting. As we journey across continents with Gandhi and Lelyveld, we go on a journey that is familiar, yet interesting because of twists and turns in the tale, and because of a fresh set of eyes describing the experience.

Gandhi’s greatness does not need any certificates. While it is often stressed that he accomplished much, what is sometimes ignored is his zest for exploring various facets of life. Gandhi was a multi-dimensional personality—he had many quirks, some imperfections and a variety of fads.

Lelyveld joins the rather well-populated ranks of Gandhi biographers. He brings a different perspective, and it is for the readers to either accept or reject his contentions.

We often forget that a book is judged every time it is read. Every reader approaches a book with his or her own perspectives, understanding, background and involvement. Readers will find the journey it takes them along of interest.

The reviewed by Roopinder Singh was published in The Tribune on May 15, 2011

Seven Plays on Sikh History by Sant Singh Sekhon
Trans. Tejwant Singh Gill
Sahitya Akademi.
Pages. 562 Rs 300.

Reviewed by Roopinder Singh

SANT Singh Sekhon (1908-1997) taught English, yet it was his writing in Punjabi that earned him great name and fame. One of his twelve full-length Punjabi plays, Mittar Piara, won the Sahitya Akademi Award in 1972. It is only fitting that India’s premier literary body has now published a translation of his plays in English.

It comes as no surprise that the theme of seven of these plays was based on episodes in Sikh history. Sekhon’s mother had Singh Sabha inclinations, thus the child grew up in an environment where even more than normal emphasis must have been placed on heritage and lore of the Sikhs.

Seven Plays on Sikh History

The wide canvas of Baba Bohar takes us on a journey from the times of Guru Gobind Singh to Independence. The bohar tree that has withstood the ravages of time and has been witness to history tells it all to young boys.

The writer uses his poetic license, and history is a backdrop to his creativity. The play resonates because it is drawn from the familiar. Banda Bahadur, however, goes beyond history.

Vada Ghalughara, or the Great Holocaust (called Big Holocaust in the book), was a siege of the Sikhs by the forces of Ahmad Shah Abdali in 1763 between the villages of Raipur and Gujarwal in Punjab, which resulted in thousands of deaths, many women and children among them. Sekhon weaves in popular narrative in the play, and remarkably enough, ends it on a positive note.

In Waris we meet Waris Shah, whose Heer has made him immortal for those who know Punjabi, his love Bhagbhari, and the Fauzdar with a glad eye. The decay in the Lahore court after the death of Maharaja Ranjit Singh is the focus of Bera Bandh No Sakio (They could not Anchor the Fleet). The same theme continues in Moian Sar Na Kai (The Dead were not Aware), in which Sekhon also makes a powerful plea for unity among Punjabi people.

Sekhon fulfilled his desire to write a play “on whatever contacts there might have been between Lenin and Indian patriots”. Mittar Piara (The Beloved Friend) came out of this endeavour. Bhai Santokh Singh and Bhai Rattan Singh are “infused with the self-sacrificing spirit of Gurbani. They have come to grasp the theory and practise of Marxism,” says Tejwant Singh. These Gaddhar leaders participate in the deliberations of the second Comintern, and then interact with their beloved friend.

A translation is expected to remain true to the spirit of the original. This is where the translator, Tejwant Singh Gill, shows both commitment and skill. As one reads the plays, one can feel the Punjabi original even through the English text.

The translator’s introduction not only gives us information about the writer, it is also a critical commentary on Sekhon’s work, and a glossary. The Punjabi plays of Sant Singh Sekhon deserve to be read by those who can’t read them in their original language. Now, they will be able to do so.

This review was published in the Spectrum section of The Tribune on April 10, 2011.

Indian Mass Media and the Politics of Change
Eds Somnath Batabyal, Angad Chowdhry, Meenu Gaur and Matti Pohjonen
Routledge.
Pages 230. Rs 795.

Reviewed by Roopinder Singh

ONCE upon a time, not so long ago, there was a world in which the All-India Radio (AIR) was the only Indian radio service for entertainment. You adventurously tuned into Ceylon to listen to “Binaka Geet Mala”, and for news, which took you beyond government handouts, you tried the BBC. If you graduated to a television, it meant that you tuned into Doordarshan, and before the Asian Games, it was only in black and white. Those of us who lived near the border mounted tremendously tall antennas to garb the signal from Pakistan Television, which had lovely plays and American serials.

Indian Mass Media and the Politics of Change

Today, Indians are spoilt for choice, but the fare that is dished out by a plethora of sources is the subject of much debate. A group of bright PhD researchers at the School of Oriental and African Studies, London, aided and abetted by their teachers, hosted a conference in 2007 on a theme that has become the title of this book. They invited others to present papers, edited them and today we have them in a book form. It all started with the Sacred Media Cow blog, and along the way came film presentations and much ruminations. They all contributed to the way the content of the book was shaped.

So, you feel that Indian television is broadcasting more news shows than a bulletin of news; editorial roles are being diminished as corporatisation becomes the norm; popular mediums like cinema operate within a narrow band of acceptability, even when presenting themes that are seen as challenging? Linguistic minorities face an uphill task; the proliferation of MMS scandals that exposes the chinks in news mediation; and sex surveys are more about selling than understanding the intricacies of intimacies? If so, then this book provides you with an academic assessment of what, until then, just a gut feeling.

John Hutnyk’s Kali Yuga is of an “over-mighty current affairs presenters, star interviewers, celebrated taking heads, ‘corrupted’ pundits, experts and guests”. Sounds familiar? Somnath Batabyal points out that the “assumed traditional divide between corporate and editorial no longer exists, and news content is aimed at affluent sections of the audience since the advertisers are interested in viewers who can buy their products”.

Meenu Gaur examines the limits of secular nationalism by studying the film Roja. What Ratnakar Tripathy and Jitendra Verma say about Bhojpuri cinema will find a resonance among those who study Punjabi films; minority identities are often in ferment, and find expression in varied ways at different times.

MMS became associated in popular perception with the scandals ever since a school student’s sexual act was recorded and distributed widely, even auctioned on www.bazee.com which led to the arrest of the CEO of the company, which in turn, led to the intervention from the then US Secretary of State, Condoleezza Rice. Media pounced upon the incident and further fuelled the craze. Angad Chowdhry examines this and other MMS scandals, and how merely naming these grainy MMS clips after celebrities made them go viral, even after people realise that they are not authentic. The non-institutional, unauthenticated MMSes represent a media not often discussed, even though it warrants our attention.

Kriti Kapila takes us through the world of sex, statistics and surveys and brings out many important points that are often ignored, and concerns about the commodification of women as sex objects, both by the surveys and the media reports that follow them. Though “India Shining” became a beacon for the BJP, the party suffered its poll debacle. At its prime, the image held an allure that was so bright that it now seems inevitable that it turned out to be a mirage.

Angad Chowdhry and Aditya Sarkar have an interesting take on the effect of the past on the present set amidst Mumbai’s labour issues and Barak Obama’s presidential campaign. Soumyadeep Paul and Matti Pohjonen give an engaging account of seeking to understand the early developments of digital media in India, like the blogs that sprang after the Tsunami hit India in 2005, and seek to strike a collaboration between theory and practise, a daunting task at the best of times, more so in the flux that is emerging digital media. Naresh Fernandes sheds light on India that is poor and ignored.

Media is a part of the change that it seeks to portray, and this is a welcome effort to examine its role. The book is academic, therefore, it may limit its readership, which would be a pity, since those who read it will benefit from the author’s observations in various papers.

This book review was published on March 22 in the Spectrum section of The Tribune.

Granta: Pakistan

Ed. John Freeman.
Granta. Pages 288. Rs 599.

THE world seeks to understand Pakistan, even as that nation seeks to define itself, and who better to guide us than a collection of celebrated contemporary writers from the country that has gripped the imagination of the world for all the wrong reasons.

Granta The Magazine of New Writing, Issue 112: Pakistan

We often forget that it is this land that gave such legends like Heer-Ranjha and Sassi-Panu, two of the most powerful love stories that form a part of our folklore; that the poets of the region have a centuries-old tradition of stringing together soul-stirring verses; the biting humour that expresses serious political critique-there is much more to Pakistan than terror, which it is experiencing as well as exporting.

Is it a magazine or a book? It is the former-the tag line says The Magazine of New Writing, Issue 112-but so well-knit together that it reads like the latter. Through this special issue of Granta, we are introduced to Pakistan that seems familiar, yet different. The feudalistic mindset, chauvinism, intolerance and intense competition between well-placed peers, along with female foeticide are brought out well by Nadeem Aslam in Leila in the Wilderness, with which the volume opens. The quest for a boy, who will take forward the family line, blaming the mother for not producing one, eating special foods to produce a male, inordinate faith in oracles and talisman, all are so familiar, yet served in a distinctive, somewhat exotic flavour.

Portrait of Jinnah is Jane Perlez’s perceptive reportage of the life and impact of the founder of Pakistan on his country, and in the same genre, Basharat Peer’s Kashmir’s Forever War gives a different, if one-sided view of how and why Kashmir continues to burn and bleed.

Uzma Aslam Khan’s Ice, Mating is good, erotic and intelligent. This San Francisco-based author’s first book, The Story of Noble Rot, was reviewed in these columns.

In The House by the Gallows, Intizar Hussain’s memoir of censorship, and the ham-handedness of the censors, will draw a chuckle or two from those who suffered briefly when Mrs Indira Gandhi imposed it in India during the period of Emergency in 1976. The swashbuckling character Anwar Kanwal in Arithmetic on the Frontier by Declan Walsh, took one back to Aatish Tasweer’s account in Stranger to History: A Son’s Journey Through Islamic Lands, of another person, sophisticated in urban setting, and a feudal lord in his ancestral, pastoral setting. We see them in India, too, though mostly in the past sense, since it is obvious that feudalism has a far greater hold in Pakistan, which never renounced it.

Mohammed Hanif is familiar to many in India because of his best-selling novel, A Case of Exploding Mangoes, and its black humour. His latest work, the soon-to-be published Butt & Bhatti, starts off as a romantic story, in a hospital, but then comes in terror triggered by events that would have been innocent, had they been in a less terror-ridden environment.

Three pages of sheer shock grip you in A Beheading, where the protagonist is the victim. Mohsin Hamid the author of The Reluctant Fundamentalist is a work of fiction-the stuff nightmares are made of-that sometimes spills into reality, as it did for Daniel Pearl.
In Pop Idols, Kamila Shamsie starts with Nazia and her brother Zoheb Hassan of the “Disco Deewane” fame. Deftly weaving pop culture and political observations, she reminds us of how Zia-ul-Haq sucked Pakistan’s soul with his Islamisation drive, and how betrayed people felt when Benazir Bhutto did not reverse the trend. Had not Pakistani teens gyrated to “Jeay Jeay Jeay Bhutto Benazir“, expostulates this Karachi-bred expat who now lives in London.

Fatima Bhutto’s political account in Mangho Pir, Lorraine Adams and Ayesha Nasir’s reportage in The Trials of Faisal Shahzad, Sarfraz Manzoor’s quest for a matrimonial match in White Girls, and certainly not to be missed High Noon, which showcases the work of 14 Pakistani contemporary artists; many gems are waiting to be explored in this volume.

You should never judge a book by its cover. In this case, however, the cover of the Granta edition gives an interesting insight about its contents. It is based on vehicle art, seen on trucks in India and on both trucks and buses in Pakistan-a shiny, stylised, raw mosaic of many vignettes united by a common vision of the artist, or, in this case, the editor. As the Granta bus trundles along various highways and pot-holed byroads of Pakistan, it takes us on paths that strike a note of familiarity, even as some exotic notes tease our sensibilities.

This review, by Roopinder Singh was published in the Sunday Reading section of The Tribune.

Ready for Takeoff: A Leadership Story
By Sachit Jain.
Rupa. Pages 253. Rs 195.

PEOPLE who do not earn their living through writing often pen down something because they feel that what they truly believe in needs to be shared with the world. For Sachit Jain, this is a simple mantra: “To be a successful boss, be nice, listen to your workers, keep channels of communication open, and take advantage of your wife’s intelligence and experience.”

Ready for Takeoff: A Leadership Story

A boss is traditionally a tough, no nonsense, go-getter who drives his team mercilessly, even as he goes out for important things like a round of golf. Here too, the protagonist, Anurag Amar Sachdeva, Ass to his friends and, often himself, is a golfer till he becomes a boss, and finds no time for the game, but more and more time for the family.

The introduction gives the reader various facts about the book and the author’s experience in setting up a steel unit for his father-in-law in Baddi, Himachal Pradesh. Making it a work of fiction gives him a degree of flexibility and Anurag is the author’s doppelganger. Anurag’s experiment of running a steel mill on behalf of an investor, instead of just breaking it up and selling it, as he had done in the past, makes a credible setting for the author to explore the “you don’t have to be abrasive to be successful” mantra.

Through Aunrag you explore the working of a big manufacturing unit and the complex interpersonal equations of various people working in it. However, with good intentions, drive and dedication, he works at understanding the processes and personnel that he now had to deal with. Anurag soon makes effective headway in improving efficiency and along with it workers’ satisfaction.

The book reads well as a work of fiction, and even as a reader goes along with Anurag on this journey, there are times when the management mantras and meeting summations get a bit too long, and then at these places, the author uses numbered paragraphs that remind us of PowerPoint presentations! Yet, it still makes sense, and here the importance of the message overshadows the shortcomings in the writer’s craft.

What comes through with remarkable clarity is the ring of authenticity in the prose. These are not contrived situations, they are ones which the author has been a part of, and thus, the reader is quickly drawn into them. Apprehensions with a new management coming in, resistance to change, empire-building within an organisation, insecurities of senior people, grouses of junior employees-all these are so easy to relate to.

Anurag makes good use of his wife’s inputs, though a bit late in the day. But then, he is not to be blamed. How difficult it is for a working male to acknowledge that there are many parallels to their “heavy” management problems, with the kind of issues that their spouses sort out in their homes. After he teams up with his wife, and takes her help, Anurag explores the meaning of leadership in a memorable encounter.

Don’t expect too much human drama as this rosy and feel-good story interspersed as it is with a substratum of management theories, which at times dominate the discourse. But here we have someone who has tested them on the anvil of experience in the real life. When he says an organisation can and should create an environment where employees are happy, readers tends to sit up and nod their heads in agreement. Even if they might just harbour a sliver of apprehension at the idea of involving their spouse in their work life, they want to be part of the change that can happen. The author’s message gets through, and that should make him happy.

This review by Roopinder Singh was published in The Tribune on November 14, 2010

Haven of Bliss Anandpur Sahib: A Miracle of the Human Spirit

By Vijay N. Shankar and Harminder Kaur.
Corporate Vision.
Pages 156. Rs 2,500.

Reviewed by Roopinder Singh

Haven of Bliss Anandpur Sahib: A Miracle of the Human Spirit

DEVELOPED on land bought from the Rani of Kahlur for Rs 500, by Guru Teg Bahadur Sahib, Anandpur Sahib holds a particular reverence in Sikh ethos because of its close association with the last two Sikh Gurus. The ninth Guru spent many years there, both before and after he became Guru, this is from where he set out on his final journey to martyrdom in Delhi, where his head was cremated, and his young son anointed Guru. In these hills, the young Gobind Rai grew up, created the Khalsa, held court that patronised many poets and writers of renown, and also where many historic battles were fought.

The authors have given a succinct overview of the history of the place, and devoted a chapter to the martyrdom of Guru Tegh Bahadur. Various events have been recreated and connected with the relevant gurdwaras built at the sites where these happenings took place.

We have the magnificent Takht Sri Keshgarh Sahib, where the Guru created Khalsa, and a personal space, Gurdwara Anand Karaj Sahib, where Guru Gobind Rai’s marriage with Mata Jito took place. It was at Anandpur Sahib that Bhai Kanahiya, a devout Sikh, was put up in front of Guru Gobind Singh by other Sikhs who accused him of providing medical help to enemy soldiers after a battle. When asked to explain his conduct, Bhai Kanahiya said he was merely following the Guru’s injunction to help those who needed it and that he saw divinity in every face when he was tending to the wounded. The Guru blessed him and told him to continue with his work.

The betrayal of trust by hill Rajas after Guru Gobind Singh had been promised a safe passage from Anandpur Sahib resulted in the death of his two sons in the battlefield, and the separation of the other two sons and their grandmother, Mata Gujri, from the Guru. They were betrayed by a family retainer and subsequently arrested by the Governor of Sirhind, who offered them a choice of renouncing their religion or converting. They remained steadfast in their belief and were bricked alive.

Hola Mohalla is where festivity, colour and marital spirit come together. It was first celebrated in 1701 by Guru Gobind Singh and we have lovely pictures by Sharad Saxena that show the event as it unfolds, including some of really cute children dressed up in traditional finery. The captions are informative, though one searches in vain for the names of the painters whose works feature in the book.

Takht Sri Keshgarh Sahib is a repository of much of Sikh heritage, including weapons of the Gurus and the Hukamnamas, epistles, issued by them. This is where we have the original khanda with which amritwas prepared for the Khalsa and the Nagina which is shaped like a corkscrew, used to pierce the armour of an armoured attack elephant, a gun from Lahore that was presented to Guru Gobind Singh and of special significance is the saif, or the sword of Hazrat Ali, the son-in-law of Prophet Mohammad. The saifwas presented by Emperor Bahadur Shah to Guru Gobind Singh. The authors have provided a glossary, though a bibliography would have added to the value of the volume.

The Sodhi families of Anandpur Sahib are a living legacy of the city. Some trace their lineage to the families of the Gurus, and Sodhi families were among the prominent landlords of the area. It is not widely known that the town of Anandpur Sahib is also one of the oldest municipalities of the region. For many years, the president of the Municipal Committee was Sodhi Haravtar Singh, who passed away in July this year at the age of 94. The book has his picture as well as some information on the person, who had been intimately connected with the city of his birth. He was the father of Justice R.S. Sodhi, former Judge of the Delhi High Court, and Vikram Sodhi, a businessman and polo player.

Many memories are jogged, as one flips the pages of the book and explores the past of Anandpur Sahib, which is a two-hour drive from Chandigarh. This volume gives us a colourful window to one of the more important towns of the Sikhs, even as it whets our appetite for more.

The review was published in The Tribune on October 3, 2010