Category Archives: Indian

April 25, 2013 · 7:54 am

Six Suspects by Vikas Swarup

Six SuspectsFirst word of advice: read the page. Don’t bother sticking this novel in your ears: narrator Lyndam Gregory’s uneven cadences and random slurring will guarantee you won’t get through the 17.5 hours of listening, not to mention his grating attempt at Texas twang might cause unwanted murderous thoughts, as well.

Vicky Rai – playboy, entrepreneur, murderer – is dead. No one is particularly upset: “He was the poster boy for sleaze.” And yet, because of the elevated lives of the rich and famous – “Not all deaths are equal. There’s a caste system even in murder” – Rai’s death is headline news. He was shot in his own farmhouse just outside Delhi, while celebrating his latest undeserved acquittal.

The eponymous six suspects are found on site, each with a possible murder weapon: a formerly high-ranking government official who thinks he’s Gandhi; Bollywood’s most beloved actress who longs to hear from her estranged family more than any devoted fan; an unworldly “tribal” young man desperate to recover a sacred stone; a former cell phone thief who uncovers a fortune in a dustbin; a dirty politician who happens to be Rai’s father; and a Texan who thinks he’s about to get married to the mail-order bride of his dreams. Murder and mayhem indeed!

Six Suspects is Vikas Swarup‘s follow-up to his bestselling debut, Q & A, which morphed into the international film sensation, Slumdog Millionaire [as almost always, the book is even better!]. While an enhancing blend of ironic satire and grim reality illuminated Q & A, Swarup isn’t quite able to pull off the same success here. The back-and-forth from near-screwball comedy to the corrupt tragedy of excessive violence and the power-elite’s dismissive lawlessness, is more disturbingly jarring than it is potentially thought-provoking. The narrative ultimately feels forced at best, confused and contrived at worst.

To reach the denouement – expertly unexpected as it is – requires perhaps too great a commitment at almost 500 pages of whodunit. As unique and surprising (some might say preposterous) as specific story details might be – spirit possession in drag, a hijra with a heart of gold, a blind Bopal gas disaster poster child-now-adult, and so much more – the novel’s multi-layered plot never quite emerges from its derivative shadow: think Agatha Christie’s play, The Mousetrap (still playing since 1952 in London’s West End, making it the longest running play in modern history!), or perhaps even that dastardly boardgame Clue.

I confess that some sort of blind loyalty to Q & A kept me turning the pages, as well as the thought I was ‘earning’ the right to read Swarup’s third title, The Accidental Apprentice, which recently pubbed across the oceans, although a Stateside release date remains unknown. Yes, just that potential was enough to get me through, albeit not without the occasional grumbling.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2009 (United States)

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April 11, 2013 · 5:19 pm

Between the Assassinations by Aravind Adiga

Between the AssassinationsFor fans of Aravind Adiga‘s unforgettable 2008 Booker Prized first novel, The White Tiger, who were perhaps not as enthralled with his 2011 follow-up, Last Man in Tower, might I suggest you look backward a few more years to his very first book? Introduced to eager readers just after Adiga’s Booker win, Between the Assassinations was actually written before Tiger in spite of getting to the presses a little later.

With intriguing cleverness, Assassinations is an interlinked short story collection, presented as something like a tourist guide, introduced with a town map and a note, “Arriving in Kittur.” Located between Goa and Calicut on India’s southwestern coast, the three months following the monsoon season which ends in September “are the best time to visit Kittur. Given the town’s richness of history and scenic beauty, and diversity of religion, race, and language, a minimum stay of a week is recommended,” the guide advises.

That seven-day set-up which Adiga used with such success in The White Tiger, works equally well here. Presented as a ‘what-to-do’ schedule during seven days and nights in Kittur, Adiga embellishes each suggested go-to location with a related narrative. On arriving the first day into the railway station, Adiga offers the story of a young Muslim boy who initially works in a nearby “tea-and-samosa place” and moves from job to job – for awhile counting all the incoming and outgoing trains for a seemingly fancy stranger – unsure of his coming future.

On Day Two, you might go to Lighthouse Hill and see what happens when a bookseller who’s already been arrested 21 times for offering illegally photocopied books begins to sell Salman Rushdie’s Satanic Verses. In the evening, you might visit the Market and Maidan, and meet Keshava who came from a small village two years ago, only to learn how disposable human life can be in a big city. On Day Four, Umbrella Street – Kittur’s commercial center – will introduce you to Chenayya who is not so young, who needs all his energy to deliver furniture throughout the city. On Day Five while you stroll by the Cathedral of Our Lady of Valencia, you might meet George who is convinced a “princess” will save him from a life of drudgery. On Day Seven at the Salt Market Village, perhaps you’ll see Murali, who at 55, might be coming to the realization that he has wasted his privileged life for an uncompromising cause when what he really longs for is a family of his own.

Populating streets, buildings, and neighborhoods with an array of characters with multiple stories – hopeful and bittersweet both – Adiga presents a multi-dimensional view of a bustling town on the verge of drastic change, caught at the crossroads of inescapable backgrounds and fresh new ideas. If you choose to visit Kittur aurally, rest assured that narrator Harsh Nayyar literally breathes life into Adiga’s workers and dreamers, politicians and escapists, students and fathers. Go ahead, take the trip – travel couldn’t be easier: by book or by iPod, Kittur awaits.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2009

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February 4, 2013 · 7:14 am

The City of Devi by Manil Suri + Author Interview

Let’s go back about seven years.

So a writer walks into a bar. It’s dark, but thankfully not smoky. The majority of the people there are more bookish (including Booker-ish!) than biker brutish. The writer finds a drink, and is standing slightly off the side with a couple of companions.

The trendy bar is the venue where the venerable Smithsonian Institution’s Asian Pacific American Center (my former day job) and its co-sponsor, the Network of South Asian Professionals, are hosting a pre-event welcome reception in anticipation of the annual South Asian Literary and Theater Arts Festival that begins in just over 12 hours. The close friends and admirers of four notable writers (including Kiran Desai, fresh from her 2006 Booker win) and two filmmakers with a debut film each, have gathered to celebrate. Among the guests, although not slated for the Smithsonian stage (that year – his turn comes two years later), is Manil Suri.

At first sight, he’s exactly as I expected the author of an exquisite, nuanced literary novel – The Death of Vishnu, his 2001 award-winning debut about the memorable inhabitants of a Bombay apartment building – who also happens to be a university mathematics professor, might look like. He’s elegant, genteel, and soft-spoken; he has an ever-so-slight hint of nervous energy about him, but that could be because his mind is moving so quickly that the rest of his body needs to contain his excess brain cells somehow.

So much for first impressions.

By the time he takes the Smithsonian stage in 2008, he’s published the second installment of his planned trilogy, The Age of Shiva, which features a headstrong young woman who becomes an overly protective mother to her less than appreciative only son. Suri’s literary star has been highly polished over the years since his debut, as have his creative impulses. What’s making the Internet rounds just in time for his Smithsonian appearance is a most revealing – campy, shocking, delightfully entertaining – video of Suri at the Brooklyn Book Festival, garbed in elaborately embroidered red drag, channeling his inner Bollywood diva. He certainly proved he can do more than just write bestsellers and teach a mean linear algebra class.

This month, Suri completes his promised trilogy with The City of Devi. Kiran Desai provides the most prominent blurb: “The City of Devi combines, in a magician’s feat, the thrill of Bollywood with the pull of a thriller… Manil Suri’s bravest and most passionate book.” If Vishnu was subtle and controlled, and Shiva impetuous and emotional, then Devi proves to be a psychedelic, surreal overthrow of expectations and conventions.

The end of the world – at least in one part of India – is nigh. The apocalypse is coming in four days, delivered via nuclear bomb directly to the city of Bombay. For the first time in centuries, the teeming city is virtually empty as its citizens flee in hopes of finding shelter somewhere, somehow. Sarita is one of the few left behind, frantically searching for her missing husband Karun who walked out of their apartment – into global chaos – claiming he was attending a conference.

Meanwhile, a mysterious young man seems to be following her: Jaz trails Sarita, his hopes also focused on Karun… and what will happen if they actually find him? In a lawless new world in which a single religious label is enough to excuse murder, cause war, and threaten complete annihilation, Sarita and Jaz are running toward true love. Just who belongs to whom will be a wee small detail they’ll have to work out, after they survive gangs, kidnappings, glowing goddess servants, elephants, a levitating multi-armed goddess-in-training with quite the nasty temper, and an evil thug with a bit of a God-complex. Oh, and did I mention the steamy sex scenes? Somebody (or rather, some bodies) must practice how to repopulate the world after annihilation, even if reproduction isn’t the actual goal. Practice makes perfect, right?

Did you plan Vishnu, Shiva, and Devi as a trilogy from the beginning?
The plan for a trilogy happened after I wrote the first book, The Death of Vishnu. I realized there were three deities in the Hindu trinity, Vishnu, Shiva and Brahma, so why not a book for each? By the time I tried to back out of this rash announcement, my publisher was already excited about the idea, so my agent told me I was writing a trilogy whether I liked it or not. After the second book, it became clear that what I had was a triptych, rather than a trilogy (since the characters and plots were unconnected), and by the time I started writing the third, poor Brahma (who’s supposed to create the universe in a single breath) had been shunted aside by the mother goddess Devi. Devi does make more sense than Brahma, because she has a lot more worshippers than he does. Besides, in the words of Karun’s father from the book, “Creation comes from the womb, not the breath.” And, of course, there’s Mumbai, which is a common thread in all three books. The patron goddess of the city is Mumbadevi. [... click here for more]

Author interview: Feature: “An Interview with Manil Suri,” Bookslut.com, February 2013

Readers: Adult

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November 2, 2012 · 1:04 pm

A Walk Across the Sun by Corban Addison

Of the debut novels by non-Asian men writing about Asia and Asian characters that I’ve read thus far this year, three stand out: Adam Johnson’s The Orphan Master’s Son, Brandon Jones’ All Woman and Springtime, and most recently this title by Virginia attorney Corban Addison. The one clear detail the trio share: none shy away from unrelenting violence.

In spite of the horror, Son is stupendous storytelling, while Woman‘s narrative arc never moves beyond maudlin debasement. Walk lands somewhere in the middle, its violent content balanced by a love-story gone awry. Two privileged teenage sisters, Ahalya and Sita Ghai, living in southern India’s Tamil Nadu, survive the devastating 2005 tsunami with little more than their lives. Entrusting an associate of their father’s to deliver them to the safety of their convent school, they instead end up trafficked to a Mumbai brothel.

On the other side of the world, DC lawyer Thomas Clarke is still reeling from the death of his baby daughter, and his subsequent desertion by his Indian-born wife. His high-power corporate law career takes a sharp downward turn, and he makes the drastic decision to take a temporary posting with an international anti-trafficking NGO – based in Mumbai, where his estranged wife has returned to her family. His new job takes him on a brothel raid that rescues Ahalya out of her horrifying situation, but not before Sita has been sold elsewhere. Thomas’ impossible promise to Ahalya to find Sita takes him to Paris, then back to the States on a wild chase involving an insidious drug, child, and sex trafficking international operation.

If you choose the audible route, while you might appreciate actress Soneela Nankani’s accurate pronunciation, her too-young voice devolves quickly into grating when performing the Thomas-focused narrative. Alas, Nankani’s reading probably won’t be the only reason to roll the eyeballs: as timely and critical as the topic of trafficking and sex slavery is, Addison’s novel stalls at just readable enough.

Almost 400 pages (or 15+ hours stuck in the ears) of too-much Thomas is quite the challenge. For a man trying to win back his wife, he certainly places himself in compromising positions. Perhaps to counter his infidelity, his high-minded hero morals are what drive him to fight sex-trafficking in Mumbai, and yet he lets his college buddy take him to a popular club filled with high-priced women, where the friend abandons Thomas to buy his expensive bedmate for the night – and yet Thomas says nothing. Really?

Excuse-filled ‘I’m only human’-protagonist aside, too many plot choices are plain unbelievable, even in the realm of fiction: on the drive home from a beach weekend, Thomas unsuccessfully (but conveniently for his story) chases a black SUV (of course) after a mother screams her young daughter has been kidnapped; as heinous as Ahalya’s experiences are in the brothel, they hardly resemble the real-life monstrosities trafficked young girls face; and, most implausible of all, (*spoiler alert*) in spite of the number of evil men Sita is shuttled through (and not that anyone would ever, ever hope otherwise), she remains unviolated throughout her incarcerations. Again, really?

As crucial as the eradication of trafficking is throughout the world, as literary investment perhaps the better choices lie in nonfiction: Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn’s pivotal Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide is a highly recommended first choice. Addison’s own website also offers numerous resources to “Learn More,” and “How to Help.” Whether or not you read Walk is a personal choice; fighting the evil portrayed within is a universal imperative.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012

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October 23, 2012 · 11:01 am

The Case of the Deadly Butter Chicken: A Vish Puri Mystery by Tarquin Hall

Not being much of a mystery aficionado, I admit my grumbling tummy is what initially drew me to this toothsome series. Earlier this year, one of my various listservs announced the July 2012 publication of this very title, and I diligently decided I had better read Vish Puri –”India’s Most Private Investigator” – in short order. In a moment of delicious surprise, the audible route proved even more appetizing as the full series is read by one of my favorite narrators ever, the multi-talented, smooth-talking, man-of-many-perfect accents, British actor Sam Dastor (his single fault might be that he can’t say ‘jalapeno’ correctly, but I’m really not quibbling!).

While The Case of the Missing Servant and The Case of the Man Who Died Laughing were both of the guilt-inducing-for-giggling-and-guffawing-in-the-midst-of-grisly-slashings-and-shootings-variety, Butter Chicken leans toward the more somber, although easy chuckling is sprinkled generously throughout. That said, it just might be the best of the three.

So Vish Puri’s got his hands (and, as usual, his belly) full while managing overlapping cases. While he’s trying to find out who poisoned the talented young cricket player’s dear Papa during a crowded hotel banquet, he also has to figure out who the pernicious mustache thief might be. Since he’s got quite a handlebar of his own, the latter case gives him nightmares … but the former will change his life forever.

From an international betting conspiracy to blood diamonds, from cricket games to imported American cheerleaders, from former generals to Koranic verses, British-born-international-journalist-turned-Delhiite Tarquin Hall manages to weave an unexpected, intriguing journey of self-discovery for his hero as he wends his way through his latest perplexing cases. Hall explores the historical Indian/Pakistani divide through Puri’s own travel to the country he thought he would never enter, where he discovers Mummy-ji had quite a past she has yet to share with him. Meanwhile, recalling what happened more than half a century ago gives Mummy just the right clues to track down a murderer even her talented son won’t be able to identity without her help. Go, Mummy, go!

As much of a page-turner #3 is, it’s also a sobering, intimate examination of inherited bias and divisive history on the South Asian subcontinent. Hall’s outsider perspective surely works to his literary advantage here – although his ancestral-by-cultural-association Angezi don’t exactly fare well. That said, his current immersion in all things Dilli gives each Puri adventure indisputable authenticity, while Sam Dastor’s near-perfect narration makes for quite the aural feast. Guilty pleasures indeed!

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012

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August 30, 2012 · 2:15 pm

Same, Same but Different by Jenny Sue Kostecki-Shaw

Winner of this year’s South Asian Book Award from the South Asia National Outreach Consortium [SANOC], Jenny Sue Kostecki-Shaw‘s latest is a whimsical, delightful exploration of friendship, family, and cultures … on opposite sides of the world.

Elliot, who lives in an American city, paints a picture that his teacher mails across the oceans, which connects him to Kailash who calls an Indian village home. Picture by picture, letter by letter, the two boys learn how alike they are … even as their sameness might also be their differences. Both live with their families: Elliot with his parents and baby sister, and Kailash with his parents and siblings, and 18 additional near and dear relatives. Both have pets: Kailash has a whole menagerie of farm animals including cows, goats, and chickens, while Elliot’s got a dachshund and fish to care for. Elliot takes a yellow school bus through city streets, while Kailash travels on a bicycle-pulled wagon … both go to and fro surrounded by friends. Elliot’s favorite class is art, Kailash’s is yoga … both because in each they “can be anything.”

As the faraway picture pals get to know each other, they easily become “best friends … even though we live in two different worlds. … Or do we?” “Same, same but different,” the phrase repeats throughout the book as the two boys grow closer together … until finally, they are “Different, different but the SAME.”

Kostecki-Shaw, as she writes on her website, learned the popular phrase, “Same, same. But different,” used for comparing different cultures, while she was traveling in Southeast Asia. She stopped at the Sunshine School in Bhaktapur, Nepal, where she organized an art exchange between the students and her American friends, which then inspired her to write this book. You can see some of those original cultural exchanges by clicking here, and some of Kostecki-Shaw’s own travel sketches by clicking here.

With nary a virtual hint in sight, Kostecki-Shaw’s splendid book is a welcome anachronistic throwback in our hyper-techno world. The concept of a pen-pal in the age of instant gratification will surely need some explaining for today’s youngest readers. Kostecki-Shaw’s colorful, gorgeous, humorous images (just marvel at Elliot’s smiling face behind the fishbowl as his zebra-striped fish purses its lips in anticipation of the incoming meal!) are especially striking, and filled with so many intricate, interesting, inviting details that demand pause to explore and enjoy. Go ahead, turn off your electronics, grab a cuddle with your kid(s), and indulge in a same, same but different adventure!

Readers: Children

Published: 2011

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August 14, 2012 · 12:43 pm

Last Man in Tower by Aravind Adiga

Self-made Mumbai real estate mogul Dharmen Shah is determined to build his iconic structure, the Shanghai, a “super-luxury” residential skyscraper, named to reflect his admiration for “all the will power in the world” he associates with the rising global power of the Chinese. In order to achieve his career dream, he must first buy out the owners of the Vishram Society; Tower B falls quickly enough, but Tower A is a much greater challenge because of one man’s refusal to sell. Masterji, a 61-year-old retired teacher who recently lost his wife, feels the presence of almost four decades of his life within the walls of the aging building and will never surrender his memories. His neighbors succumb – some less willingly than others – to Shah’s promised windfall of 250% over market value for their tiny spaces, until Masterji is indeed the ‘last man in tower.’

I don’t know what went wrong for me with this novel … certainly it has all the elements of a great (listening) read. The engaging, multi-voiced Sam Dastor narrates Aravind Adiga‘s prizewinning prose, so precisely atmospheric as to transport readers into the dark halls of Tower A. Having captured the bustling streets of a fast-transforming Delhi in his unforgettable 2008 Booker Prized novel, The White Tiger, Adiga moves to a less-than-modern apartment building that stands in the path of sprawling urban (so-called) progress in teeming Mumbai. His characters come alive, his observations of humanity (and inhumanity, depending on perspective) are chilling, his social and political commentaries are scathingly accurate. And yet …

The age-old battle of power vs. principles goes on (and on and on) for 400 pages; ultimately, the plotting, bullying, betrayals offer few new surprises. Even as Shah’s October 5 deadline to Tower A residents approaches (promising an end must be near), a multi-chapter Epilogue looms … and by the time you finally turn that last page, vacating the Tower proves to be a welcome escape.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2011 (United States)

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July 14, 2012 · 11:01 am

The Case of the Man Who Died Laughing: A Vish Puri Mystery by Tarquin Hall

I always feel a twinge of guilt chuckling over murder mysteries – how can I be laughing in the midst of grisly, graphic slashings and shootings? But Vish Puri – ”India’s Most Private Investigator” – is, for all his quirky habits (sneaking food when the wife’s not looking, spouting centuries-old history, nicknaming his most trusted colleagues, his occasional clashes with his Mummy), quite the entertaining star of his own series. Don’t ever compare him to Sherlock Holmes, but his eccentricities do make me think of the portly, equally idiosyncratic Hercules Poirot …

As soon as I finished The Case of the Missing Servant, I clicked over to Book #2 with a sigh of relief that Sam Dastor was again giving voice to Puri. Dastor also voices Book #3, (just checked), so here’s another grateful WHEW.

In Laughing, Puri tries to bridge the gap between science and the supernatural when famed Dr. Suresh Jha is apparently murdered by a levitating, vengeful goddess Kali during a very public park meeting of the good doctor’s laughing club. ["When you laugh ... you change. And when you change, the whole world changes" – which means laughter could be the key to world peace!] In order to solve the case, Puri and his trusted operatives must infiltrate the hallowed halls of the powerful guru Maharaj Swami’s Abode of Eternal Love.

Meanwhile, Puri’s Mummy-ji and his wife Rumpi are busy solving a case of their own, after being the victims of uninvited, thieving guests at their last kitty party. While Puri would never admit it, he’s certainly not alone in his investigative prowess. Go Mummy, go Rumpi! Girl power all the way!

Tarquin Hall, whose earlier nonfiction titles won him acclaim and awards, is clearly having too much fun with Puri (his website mentions he’s writing mostly fiction these days). His intimate knowledge of Delhi (the city he calls ‘home’), his obvious familiarity with the very unique rhythms and grammar of Indian English (linguists claim that India is the country with the most English speakers in the world, by the way!), his clear appreciation for India’s foods (especially of the fried, spicy, salty variety!), all add a delightful authenticity to Puri’s antics. Dastor’s narration is an enhancing bonus.

Yeah, I know … at the end of these titles, we’re still talking gruesome murders. I guess if I’m going to (gleefully) partake, at least I can tout the health benefits of laughter, per the good (uhm …. dead?) doc. Uh-oh.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2010

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July 13, 2012 · 7:13 am

The Case of the Missing Servant: A Vish Puri Mystery by Tarquin Hall

While I do enjoy a clever mystery now and then, I confess the real reason I randomly picked up the Vish Puri – ”India’s Most Private Investigator” series – is because I was so taken with the title for #3: The Case of the Deadly Butter Chicken, which hit shelves this week! Oh, be still my grumbling belly.

But ‘let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start …’ (whoops, a moment of childhood lyrical haze!). Set in Delhi, with jaunts to Jaipur, The Case of the Missing Servant introduces 51-year-old Vish Puri, a private detective who has never met a case he couldn’t solve. Any comparisons made of his prowess to that of Sherlock Holmes, however, always sets him on edge, and he’s not above spouting historical Indian figures who pioneered all manner of investigative methods centuries earlier! He’s an incorrigible foodie (and admitted “capsicum junkie and occasional dealer” who grows his own Naga Morich chillies). His girth is proof of his culinary appreciations, much to his wife’s protestations about his need for healthier eating habits. He occasionally tends toward pompous and most definitely doesn’t like getting help from his feisty Mummy who has decades of experience that Vish should know better than to discount. Most of the time, he’s fair, just, generous … and not a little bit of a doof now and then. His family and favorite friends call him ”Chubby” with great affection. In turn, he bestows nicknames on his most trusted staff, including Handbrake, Tubelight, Facecream, and Flush.

As the title promises, the main mystery centers around the missing servant of a Jaipur-based, high-profile lawyer who has built his career on exposing (rampant) government corruption. When the girl’s bludgeoned body surfaces, said lawyer suddenly lands in jail, accused of lethal hanky-panky. Uh-oh. Meanwhile, back in Delhi, Puri has to answer to an intimidating veteran who wants the dirt on his granddaughter’s fiancé who just seems too good to be true. And then there’s “the small matter of the attempt on his life” – not the first and most definitely not the last … but then Mummy’s probably got that little situation in hand.

Ever so convincingly created by Delhi-based Tarquin Hall, a British ex-pat international journalist, Vish Puri is available for your aural entertainment voiced by actor Sam Dastor. So he can’t pronounce ‘jalapeno,’ but he makes Hall’s prose come alive with the palpable hustle-bustle of a Delhi in constant motion. Having spent more-than-tourist-time in India (as well as the many years of being an honorary desi for the APA Program’s annual SALTAF), Puri’s geography was so familiar, I could smell his forbidden snacks, feel Handbrake’s frustration over the beeping tuk-tuks, and even hear the locals tell each other ‘don’t do tension’ or tension nahi leneka as a dear friend taught me. Perhaps I, too, was a Dilli-ite in a former life …

Vish Puri #2, The Case of the Man Who Died Laughing, is posting soon … stay tuned. After that, I’ll have earned a bit of Butter Chicken for sure!

Readers: Adult

Published: 2009

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April 15, 2012 · 12:22 pm

Excuses Excuses by Anushka Ravishankar, art by Gabrielle Manglou

Ack! Taxes are due today! Already! For those filing extensions, this one’s for you (and me, ahem!) …

In spite of the best intentions, some things just don’t happen like they should … and, like young Neel, we’re usually ready with the Excuses Excuses! Neel announces daily the various ways he’ll improve himself: “On Monday Neel decided / He’d be in time for school … On Wednesday he decided / To be a helpful son …,” all the way to Sunday when “he decided / That he would mend his ways / Then suddenly he realized / That he’d run out of days.”

In spite of Neel’s tenacious attempts at betterment, on Monday his “clock began to tick / In an anti-clockwise way” just to make him late again. Instead of being a helpful son on Wednesday, he brings home a canine friend instead. His Sunday intentions land him in the corner for “[a] day to be sorry …,” no attention given to his protestations of “It’s not at all fair!”

Poor Neel, no matter how much “he explained how he really tried / What deeply grieved him / Was no one believed him. / Excuses! Excuses! Excuses! they cried.” But lucky for his tenacious, and not a little mischievous spirit, “There’s no cause for sorrow, / I’ll start once again – It’s a new week tomorrow!” Here’s to the inspiring determination of youth, indeed!

Excuses hits shelves next month from Tara Books, a fabulous picture book publisher based in South India, with titles readily available Stateside through distribution by Publishers Group West. Peruse Tara’s website and you’ll see that the indie press brings together “a growing tribe of adventurous people from around the world” to create wondrously eye-popping titles.

In Excuses, Gabrielle Manglou, an artist from the French island of Réunion in the Indian Ocean, uses a combination of photographs, watercolor, graffiti, and other media to uniquely enhance the imaginatively catchy rhythms of Indian children’s poet and veteran kiddie author Anushka Ravishankar. Art and text – intertwined with balanced whimsy – imbue Neel’s tall tales with colorful energy and unlimited creativity. Not to mention just good ol’ fun, fun, fun.

We can only hope our children eventually learn a wee bit more veracity, although surely not at the cost of ever losing that contagious vivacity … no matter how taxing (couldn’t resist!) real life might become!

Readers: Children

Published: 2012 (United States)

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