The Dutch House - Book Review

An audiobook narrated by Tom Hanks? Sign me up! If you told me Tom Hanks was reading the economics section of the newspaper, I'd pull up a chair and fight for front seat. Nothing the man ever does could bore me or not bring stars to my eyes! I listened to this audiobook the whole time, playing it out like a movie in my mind, with Tom Hanks ofcourse, as the lead. I am forever in love with him and because of this, I cannot tell you if I truly loved the book or if I just love Tom Hanks a little too much.

'The Dutch House by Ann Patchett' is a story of a family and a house. It is well written, keeping the reader interested in the long, transcending story which in some ways also stood still in time, urging one to come back to the book every chance you get because the grand house, the siblings, the people who work for them/with them, their stories everything engulfs you. The novel primarily revolves around Maeve and Danny Conroys, or as in my version Tom Hanks (playing Danny Conroy) with intermittent appearances from others. The house is its own lead character in the story always there, forever lingering in all the conversations and quietly playing the backdrop throughout the book. It was a long but mostly light read, which I think hit the right spot for me. I fully loved Maeve Conroy and found myself agreeing with Danny on everything. Some lines in the book made me hit pause and rewind just so I could re-listen and absorb the beautiful writing. Great read!

Welcome to the Hyunam-dong Bookshop - Book Review

A very light and heartening read that I began with little to no expectations. This is my second book by a South Korean author. I have been intentionally trying to expand my horizon since the last few years by trying to read more books from different parts of the world. Cultural differences fascinate me, it's one of the most important reasons why I travel and have so much curiosity when I meet new people. Ask my shipmates and they'll tell you about my incessant questions about their lives in their countries. I want to be a sponge, absorb all the world's diversity and it's similarity. Perhaps this is why I love reading books so much. Books are gateways, portals that secretly transport you to a place and back, with only words. You get to learn so much about someone imaginary living so far away, about how they like their coffee or how they perceive their wins and losses and more, without ever moving an inch.

'Welcome to the Hyunam-dong Bookshop' brings you a simple story with simple characters who have simple lives. Sometimes as in life, complex problems show up in the book every now and then but even those are dealt by the author with a light hand, never coating anything with too much heaviness. The book touched upon so many interesting topics within the realm of its characters and the space of the bookshop, a coffee roasters office and Yeonju's home- Yet no problem overwhelmed me or made me too sad or anxious. Even in those moments there was always an undercurrent of hope. This book is filled with a sense of community and an encouraging nudge to just focus in the moment and slowly keep moving forward even when things feel dire. 

I grew fond of the characters and found myself rooting for them. I felt like I was part of the ensemble most of the times, sitting at the Hyunam-dong bookshop watching things unfold. It made me yearn for such a warm, friendly independent bookshop in my area. A place where everyone loves books, there's excellent coffee available, bestsellers are not the main gimmick and you can meet like-minded people. Like every book lover, I've spent time wondering what it might be like to own a bookshop and envelope myself in books, to own a business where owners' profits are not the priority but meeting book lovers and making books accessible and interesting to everyone is. This book gave me a glimpse into that life and now I only want it more. 

Friends, Lovers and the Big Terrible Thing - Book Review

Picking up the Matthew Perry memoir was a no-brainer for me, for 2 reasons:

1. Chandler Bing was my favourite character on FRIENDS. I was like any other FRIENDS fan greedy for more tidbits and BTS stories about his character, the other leads and the show in general.

2. I had a curiosity about Matthew Perry, the man behind the Chandler mask, in particular I wanted to try and understand his addictions.

I've read a couple of lifestories, biographies, memoirs, the genre and from what I've seen, even in an autobiography, the authors tend to present to you only the best versions of themselves. The most perfect version of themselves so you'd get to know them and their lives with fondness. I imagine I would do the same thing, when we are nostalgic we paint our favourite memories with a rose tint. But this book took me by surprise. Matthew Perry (MP) has laid out his life and thoughts, bared himself like nothing else I've ever seen. Listening to this audiobook was like having access to somebody's secret self, their inner monologue. Atleast in my case that's where I'm most honest, THIS honest. It felt like he held back no parts of himself under the veil of privacy and that took me by surprise. It made me feel a tad nervous and strange. I wondered, "Is this much honesty allowed?"

I love listening to audiobooks narrated by the authors themselves. I feel then I get to read/hear the book in the exact same tone it was intended by them. When I started this book, I winced a little because MP at 50+ years old did not sound like the young and timeless Chandler Bing at all. His speech was slurred and it took me a little to get used to older, sicker MP's voice. It quickly grew on me though and soon felt warm and friendly, like listening to someone I knew closely. 

The first half of the book had me hooked. I was pulled into it like a magnet to iron. I was only one chapter in and I already thought it was among the best books I've ever read. I got through the first half of the book in one sitting. I haven't quite done that in a long long time. The only reason I stopped even then was because I wanted to slow this experience down, stretch it out and make it last. It was the first time looking at the "time left" on my audiobook made me visibly sad because I didn't want this audiobook to end at all. 

His writing is poetic, funny, witty, honest, had a beautiful sense of direction (in the beginning) which made the story telling excellent. How could one write so well? How can one be so unpretentious, funny, detached yet completely present, sincere and real about their deepest feelings and regrets, even their most painful memories?

As the title says this book is about the show FRIENDS, his friends, his lovers and the big terrible thing- his addictions. I got a very detailed insight into his addictions to drugs, alcohol and nicotine. I found myself clutching my chest with sorrow for him every now and then because I had the misfortune of reading this book after his death which meant throughout the book, even the good parts I always knew this one didn't have a happy ending. I had very little understanding of addictions and my empathy for people suffering from them has grown multifold now after this book. 

The storyline jumps back and forth in time which eventually got harder to keep track of because there were friends and lovers and addiction stories which kept coming and going sometimes with the same characters making reappearances or were they similar characters? The repetitive incidences with his relapses and sobriety were also starting to mash together in my head towards the last quarter of the book. I was beginning to lose count. I have to mention, the editing of this book was very poorly done because I noticed he repeated some stories and lines towards the end. I kept looking at the audiobook player wondering if I accidentally replayed an earlier chapter. I'm assuming from his own retelling, that this book was written over a long period of time with lots of breaks in between which may have caused MP to lose track. However this is a job for the editing team and I felt like they may have let this book down. I wonder if it could've been less loopy and more free flowing with better editing and honest feedback to the author in the initial stages of proofreading.

Nevertheless I do not regret spending 9 hours on this book. I have learnt a great deal about so much and I'm immeasurably inspired by his matter-of-fact acceptance of his life, narcissism, choices, money, addictions, fame, shortcomings, feelings and everything else he's written about. I found him to be endearing, incredibly brave and utterly simple in his core. I started reading this book with the intention of finding out more about Chandler Bing and the guy who played him. I honestly ended up liking MP more than I expected. He is way more interesting and fascinating than Chandler because Chandler was a character and he was played to perfection. He was given a character arc and he found redemption in the end. But not MP. I found his story to be a lot more wholesome, characterful and scarred, mistakes n all, the real deal. 

- 03 Jan 2025

Crying in H mart - Book Review

A few days ago Anisha Gopinath had shared about a book she had read. I always note down good recommendations in my never ending TBR. For some reason, I felt instantly drawn to this book. A book about grief? I wanted to be in the middle of it. 

Although it took me a few days to get through the whole book (because of my schedule) it was always in the back of my mind. I thought it was very simple, baring and unadorning. I am a big fan of writing like that, I yearn to be a writer who can use simple words and sentences but make you feel deep, grand things in your emotions, your memories and your heart. A writer who can just reach out and touch your soul with their pen.

It is written from the girl's POV entirely, but who stood out for me was the mom. The struggle between mothers and daughters it seems is a Universal one. They hurt us trying to love us and we don't know how to be with them when we're grown up. We understand eachother the most, but also face the biggest difficulty in making the other person see us. We are forever separated and tied together in this bond that is mother-daughter. That I thought was so nicely encapsulated in this book. It was a great read, short and engaging. Definitely made me nostalgic for a Korean childhood (that I most definitely did not have and don't have any context for) and made me crave Korean food.

When I Hit You: Or, A Portrait of the Writer as a Young Wife - Book Review

I finally found the time and space to read this book. This one is now off my TBR after patiently waiting for me to arrive at its turn for years. 

This book is a raw account of what a newly-wed, bright, young writer experiences at the hands of her violent, abusive husband. It captures the silent and dehumanising way in which her spirit is broken under the pretense of marriage. It uses how her family reacts to her abuse to remind us what we know in our bones as Indian women- the salty truth about the way every Indian family reacts to abuse- with excuses to persevere; tears, blackmail and silent treatments asking women to prioritise the family's reputation over our physical and mental safety; they even remind you this is normal in India and that women get beaten and raped by their husbands all the time. 

Her storytelling robs you of your ability to overlook such violence and makes it impossible to not take it in. It catches you off-guard with its brutal honesty. There is always something or the other happening to women in this country. There's no inkling of doubt that we are forever in danger as long as we live here. We are not safe in our homes, on the streets or even at work. To me, the crude violence women and girl children endure within the walls of their home, the place that is supposed to keep them safe is the most heartbreaking of them all, because where do you run from there? Whom do you look to for safety, if your family is enabling or atleast complicit in what is happening to you? We tend to think rape and abuse and violence happens to women who stray, who are too modern and not to women who follow the rules. But marital rape and domestic violence happens to married women, women who care and dote after their husbands and this is proof that even when you bow down to the patriarchy and accept it's rules, you still won't be safe, you won't be spared because this system was not meant to keep you safe, in any form or matter anyway.

Little Kindnesses of Women

I'm planning my honeymoon trip last minute. I call my bestfriend to tell her. She is so happy, she tells me her Polaroid camera is mine to take and that she'll pack me some farsan and bhata (food you carry while you travel). I tell another friend, and she has called me home to give me all her nice accessories, 6 different sunglasses and even arranged for her mom to show me earring options if I wanted. On the day I have to leave, my bestfriend's food parcel arrives, neatly packed with cute notes and definitely packed with more quantity than I asked for, along with an extra box of my favourite dish to eat in the airport if I get hungry. And rightly as predicted, I polish the box off before I make it to boarding. ❤️

I'm back from the trip and it is almost the end of the month. My sister tells me she needs to buy another birthday outfit. I ask her what happened to the last one? She casually says I gave it to you for your honeymoon photoshoot. I'm horrified. Why didn't you tell me it was new and that you were saving it for your birthday? She simply says if I did, you wouldn't have taken the dress with you and gotten such beautiful pictures. I'm speechless. She says now help me pick another one. ❤️

I tell myself Indian women are unmatched in their love, they're the best.

It is lunch time, I'm onboard. I'm stood deciding whether to take Basmati rice or sticky rice onto my plate. Cindy (Cinderella) my crew walks in and she's wearing beautiful beige corduroy bottoms which look like the picture of comfort. I tell her I'm obsessed with her pants. She confirms they're indeed very comfortable, we chat for a bit and then go on to eat lunch at our respective tables. Next morning I'm at the mess room again, drinking tea and asking my crew about their jobs while Cindy walks in with a pair of black corduroy pants in her hands saying she has another pair of those comfy pants that I really liked and asked if I wanted to try them. She says "it has some elastic at the waist, you should try it Chief and if it fits you, you should take it". I tell her but I'm not even close to your size and we laugh. I'm so touched. ❤️

It is a bright, chilly morning in Antwerp, Belgium. I've gotten permission to go ashore. After an unexpected visit from the port authorities in the morning, I'm running to my cabin to shower and get ready. I shout out to my Chinese cadet on the way to fill up my water bottle too. A few hours later, we're on the road and I'm thirsty, I take a sip and the water is very warm and not what I expected. I make a face. She sees me and says "Chief iss very cold ousside you know, you needa drink hot-uh wat-ur, not cold-uh wat-ur. Iss no good for you" 

*dismissive hand action*

I have zero complaints after that ❤️

It is a hot day in Lagos, Nigeria. We've already finished 4 ship-to-ship operations, with 2 more to go. The routine has become so tiring and machine-like. There has been very little rest interspersed in between way too much action. I had skipped breakfast that day because we were called in an hour early. When I came back later to grab a toast and some tea, I noticed a small packet of 4 biscuits. I ripped it open in hunger and was pleasantly surprised by the sweet and salty, midly spicy and herby taste. It was fantastic. I turned the packet around to find it was made in Bangladesh, even though the taste was so familar to me I assumed it was Indian. I made a mental note to ask my Bangladeshi Engine Cadet about it. When I ask her later, she is so happy that I would like a simple biscuit so much. I tell her it reminds me of Maska Chaska. Few days later she catches me on the staircase and hands me 7-8 more packets saying "ma'am I want you to have this". I refuse instantly, she is a cadet, a child. Ofcourse I couldn't take from her. I tell her she's going to stay longer onboard and she would need it more than me. She asks me not to worry and thrusts them into my palms with a smile. She says please have it for me, it will make me happy ❤️

I walk down with all the biscuit packets in my hand when I run into the Bangladeshi Fifth Engineer coming back from the Engine Room. She recognises the biscuits and asks me, I tell her what happened with the Engine Cadet and how grateful I was for all the love. She is amused, she only listens and smiles the whole time. Later I find another 6-7 packets of the biscuit left quietly on my table, this time from the Fifth Engineer who says she wanted to give me some too ❤️

I'm starting to think it's an Asian women thing.

I've barely been onboard 2 weeks. One day I notice 2nd officer's different looking beverage mug. I ask her about it. She shows me with excitement how it has an attached tea strainer and I'm thoroughly impressed with the design. I quickly search for it on Amazon but cannot find it. She hands over duty to me and goes down to rest in her cabin. A few minutes later, she is back with her phone in her hand, asking me to pick a color. I see the same mug on the screen on a shopping website. I say- but how do I get it? I don't live in the Philippines. She says she'll order it to her house and have it Dunzo-ed to anyone who is joining next from Manila to bring it onboard. Before I could politely say no I don't want to be of any trouble, she has already placed the order. We don't even know when the next crew change might happen, but the kindness in her didn't need all that information. I tell her I need more things from the website just so she won't refuse my money when I pay. ❤️

It's after dinner. I've eaten something wrong and I have severe indigestion. I have terrible nausea and stomach pain followed by diarrhoea throughout the night. I cannot catch even a few undisturbed minutes of sleep except when I'm resting on the toilet waiting for the next wave to hit. The next morning I'm given a sick day and told to rest. My Chinese cadet at lunch time, texts me full sentences asking about my "abdominal pain and distension"- using words I know that she doesn't yet have in her very limited vocabulary. She is using Google translate to enquire about my health and talk to me. ❤️

We are all in the recreation room talking about silly, random, happy, good things while listening to our fellow Filipino crew singing karaoke. When we talk about weight, I mention I have PCOS and my Third Engineer asks me what it means. I explain it to her to the best of my ability. She is very sympathetic. A few days later she is at my doorstep with a yogurt container. I'm confused. She opens it and it is actually filled with flax seeds, not yogurt. She tells me she read online about PCOS and learnt that seed cycling helps, so she brought what she had with her to share with me. She gives me instructions on how to consume it and checks with me every now and then if I've started ❤️

Dawn is breaking and morning light is slowly flooding into the previously pitch dark wheelhouse. I can now see the shape of an unusual little glass bottle on the chart table. My chief-officer-ears perk up 'was somebody drinking alcohol from a sample bottle on duty?' I go closer to pick it up and it says "Katinko oil" on the label, "used for all pains and aches. Made in the Philippines". I open the bottle and take in the smell, a familiar note hits my nose- Axe oil. It smells so similar to axe oil and all the other menthol oils that my family is addicted to and I've grown fond of. I tell my cadet about it. She asks my permission to go down and bring her own version of it, a Chinese pain relief oil. My Filipino third officer, the owner of the Katinko oil bottle has also joined us on the bridge. We exchange our balms and oils with eachother giggling at this guilty pleasure. My third officer without a second thought tells me she would leave me her bottle when she signs off in a few days, because I said I liked it and it reminded me of home. ❤️

So many different women, all with the same thread of love and kindness innately woven into their beings. I've seen this quality over and over again in the women around me, across ages. They tap into this natural ability to be kind and beautiful without any prompt, any cue. If they see you enjoy something, they'll stock more of it at home. If they know you like a particular color, they will video call you from the store when they see something they think will look nice on you. They will cook you your favourite food and remember things that are important to you. They will excite with you and worry with you. Women are the gold standard. Women make this world an infinitely better place. ❤️

When Breath Becomes Air - Book Review

I am terribly heartbroken, there is truly no other way to explain how deeply moved and bereaved I feel on completing this book. I bought this book nearly 3 years ago as soon as I saw my friend Snegha Ananth's instagram post. I don't know why I set it aside for so long but the timing is almost unbelievable (for me to decide I wanted read a book about death at a time like now). I only wish I had finished this book back at home, where I still had the chance to run into the next room and hug everyone. 

This book is riddled with Dr Paul Kalanithi's thoughts, emotions and unavoidable pain through his cancer diagnosis and treatment. His writing is honest-to-God a blessing upon us all. I had to stop every now and then just to admire the depth and ease with which he wrote, the ascendancy with which he quoted poets and writers. I cannot get over many many paragraphs of this book where he proves himself to be simple, profound, a brilliant mind, and a true genius. One example would be:

"As graduation loomed, I had a nagging sense that there was still far too much unresolved for me, that I wasn’t done studying. I applied for a master’s in English literature at Stanford and was accepted into the program. I had come to see language as an almost supernatural force, existing between people, bringing our brains, shielded in centimeter-thick skulls, into communion. A word meant something only between people, and life’s meaning, its virtue, had something to do with the depth of the relationships we form. It was the relational aspect of humans—i.e., “human relationality”—that undergirded meaning. Yet somehow, this process existed in brains and bodies, subject to their own physiologic imperatives, prone to breaking and failing. There must be a way, I thought, that the language of life as experienced—of passion, of hunger, of love—bore some relationship, however convoluted, to the language of neurons, digestive tracts, and heartbeats."

Many a books have been good, even great, but for a book's foreword and epilogue to also win my heart, this should be a first. Must must must read. Easily one of the best books I've ever read. Tell me if you've read it, I would love to share favorite quotes with you. ❤️

26 Feb 2019