Book Review : The Aryabhata Clan

The confession first. I have this habit of drawing parallels between the works of various authors. And Sudipto's narration does remind me of Dan Brown. He does a great job of weaving history, symbolism and fiction into a tale that gets better and better with every turn of the page.

Honestly speaking, the book opens on a very average note and I was even tempted to give up after the first few pages. But something kept me going and very soon i found myself turning the pages with increasing levels of curiosity.

The tale revolves around some ancient carpets and the knowledge woven by them in the form of cryptic symbols. Two old men who have been entrusted with the task of keeping this art form alive are found to be brutally murdered. The investigation reveals the hand of Islamic state behind those murders and their sinister propaganda aimed at causing unrest in the country.

The political angle is strong. And the narrative even goes to the extent of showing some of the politicians to be hobnobbing with the IS.

The beautifully details parts about the progressive development of the languages, the interlinks between the various races and their common roots plus the architectural bits about the Taj Mahal are commendably well handled. This portion could have weighed down the narration had it been any longer. To give him credit, Sudipto dishes out just enough information to keep it covered without keeping any loose threads.

The climax though was a wee bit dramatic and something I hadn't expected at all. Something like the hero of the typical South Indian movie taking a bullet or two and yet rising like a Phoenix to beat the bad guys to a pulp. Jokes apart, this bit could have been cleaner .

I wont divulge it all as it will be a spoiler for folks reading the book .Yes, I do recommend that you pick up this one if you are into Dan Brown / symbolism.

Book Review : Our Impossible Love ( Durjoy Dutta )

Buy online HERE.


This one should have been labelled 'Our Inscrutable Love'. Or still better 'Our Improbable Story'. For, it is the kind of story that lacks conviction. In some ways, it is rather similar to a masala potboiler Hindi movie but sadly, it trivializes issues like rape and gay rights. Plus the love story between a student and a counselor (deemed as a failure by his own parents) is hardly happening. If anything, it is just too superficial except for a few stray chapters when the author makes you cry and laugh out simultaneously. Not because it is funny but just coz it is so cliched.

Why did I pick this one ?? Now, for the longest time I had been reading mostly mythology written by Indian authors, fiction by Jeffery Archer and heavy philosophical stuff by Murakami/Orhan Pamuk etc. Wanted something lighthearted for a change and this one came highly recommended. Just don't ask me who did it ! Plus I got it on Kindle when there was a good offer .So, now I can happily delete it as I am done. I hate to give away by books even when they are real crappy and so I have a shelf space issue at home. Just the reason why I have promised myself that I every time I buy a book, the next one will have to be an Kindle version.

Getting back to the story, the female lead Aisha is a seventeen year old who is five years late into getting her periods. She is obsessed about it. And when it does come, she creates a scene. Well, that is what the author would like us to believe. Sounds incredible , doesn't it ! But the story gets even more incredible as we are told that the mother suffers from a kidney disease which has left the family under financial strain and the father has to take up whatever transfers comes his way to make some extra money.

The male lead Danish starts out as a loser cannot even garner enough marks to pass his exams. And yet his brother is an IIT genius who has got the startup guys queuing up at the doorstep. Plus, he is real lucky with the girls.

And somewhere in between we are introduced to Sarthak, Aisha's brother who prefers to keep to himself. We later get to know that he is gay and has been planning secretly to get away to Poland just because they gays marriages are acceptable there.

But the saddest part of the book is when Aisha is raped on a date and the manner in which Sarthak gets bullied just because he is gay. While the characters in this book are from a posh Delhi school, the real issue that the author has tried to deal with is 'Campus rape'. There has been tremendous debate on this issue and as to what constitutes to consent of the girl. One of the lines uttered by Vibhor (the accused guy) rightly exposes the attitude of the perpetrators. "Usually girls are so drunk after just one drink", he says and this often used as a excuse for committing the crime.

But the second half of the book in which Danish helps Aisha to cope with the situation and leads her back to a normal life is well written and commendable. Plus the way in which Ankit, Danish's brother, pitches in is quite sweet. The idea of developing an App to help people help others is a good one though not very practical.

This book works in parts and I have a lingering doubt that Durjoy Dutta started writing this one with something good in mind. But the final outcome lacks the desired sensitivity and sensationalizes trivial stuff. Despite all his efforts, one would still accuse him of using sex to sell the book.

Would I recommend it ? Well, he is already quite popular with the youngsters given that his target audience seems to be in the age bracket of 16 to 25. Maybe an overdose of sex works just right for them.

Uncle

Image courtesy : jamesbond.wikia.com

"I still happen to think that running away and getting married was the better option", SHE retorted to Leena aunty as the latter bombarded her with statistics about how much her own wedding had cost a few years ago. SHE had been on the edge ever since she arrived at her parent's home which had been bedecked lavishly for the wedding.

"The vivid blue skies of Goa. A white imposing church with a fleet of stairs leading to the top. Me in a LWD and sneakers. Rohan in blue jeans and a leather bomber jacket. A no-fuss ceremony. And finally riding into the sunset on a Harley Davidson. I had it all planned to the minutest detail. But that was before the elders had jumped in and turned it into a circus albeit with the clowns taking center-stage in designer wear", SHE added to nobody in particular before storming out of the room. The over the top decor and the ever preposterously dressed folks were making her irritable.

Everyone had been discussing the weddings in the family and how the imminent one (her own sister's) took the crown when it came to the exorbitant amount being spent . Everything just had to be 'The Best'. Even if it came with a ridiculous price tag. "Poor thing. She does realize that there are no free lunches. Or dinners for that matter. Even if it is one thrown by your own parents. It can always be leveraged as a bargaining chip on a later date", SHE pitied her sister as she looked around for some respite from the crowd.

Finally SHE found a tiny balcony connected to the store room on the first floor. It had the strategic advantage of being located right at the back of the imposing house. Nobody could see her lighting up in that forbidden nook. As SHE inhaled the acrid fumes, the cold breeze soothed her frayed nerves. SHE was the one used to analyzing people and not the other way around. But it was not something SHE could avoid at the family gatherings. SHE was relieved that this function was being held in her own family instead of being one in her in-laws family. The judging would be much less but nevertheless it would still be there. The nicotine rush braced her for the pain even as her thoughts threatened to travel back to her own wedding.

SHE had known it. The memories would be back with a vengeance. The atmosphere of the house would stir up her subconscious and not just for the fleeting seconds of a passing nightmare. That SHE could handle. As SHE had been doing for the last few years. But living it out 24 X 7 was going to be tough. Could SHE do it ?

SHE had noticed the little girl crying and had beckoned her. The kohl smeared around her round eyes and the striped frock hugging the tiny frame gave her the appearance of a frightened raccoon. It surprised her that nobody had noticed the kid's tears. SHE could not spot the mother anywhere nearby so she had taken it upon herself to soothe the kid assuming that the latter was feeling neglected. Something that could easily be rectified with a small bribe. And it had helped. The huge chocolate bar (sneaked into her room by Rohan's cousin at his behest) and a beaded hair-clip did calm down the child to some extent.

But then the little one had talked between sobs about the 'bad uncle' who had hurt her. It numbed her at first and SHE was almost tempted to brush it off as some kind of story concocted by a kid's fertile imagination. Then SHE saw the evidence. The kid had innocently exposed the bruises while demanding a Band-Aid from her. "Don't you have a Band-Aid aunty ? Mummy always keeps one with her", the words flooded her brain. SHE struggled with a reply. But somebody had suddenly barged into the room to check on the new bride and everything was forgotten. At least momentarily.

Sadness. Shock. Anger. Hatred. Disgust. A plethora of emotions rioted though her mind. But SHE kept her calm and decided to consult the parents before confronting the offender. Had it been another place another time, SHE would have been leading the mob. But today SHE was the bride. And weighed down by strict instructions from everyone in the family to confirm to the designated role-play.

The girl's parents had decided to keep mum about it. And it did not come entirely as a surprise. What shocked her more was Rohan's reaction. He had brushed it off casually. And it was his continued camaraderie with his cousin which made it all the more painful. Doubt had crept into her mind. "Had he been the right guy in the first place ?". SHE had put an abrupt end to that train of thought. It was just the second day of her 'blissfully wedded' life.

"Ohh". SHE dropped the cigarette as the embers almost brushed her fingers. SHE had been consumed by her own thoughts and had failed to take notice. Lighting up the second one, SHE allowed herself to think about the little girl for the first time in many years. SHE had come across the child, now a introvert pre-teen, on a few occasions after the wedding. But each meeting had been short and thankfully did not allow for much interaction. But the mother has passed on the disturbing information. A steady decline in academic performance, unexplained fits of anger, a growing fear strangers and retreating into a shell most of the times were some of her complaints. The classic symptoms were there for all to see. If only one had the guts to look at it for what it was.

The guilt was all too familiar and it almost choked her. "I have failed myself. For the second time", the words were an angry lament as she snuffed out the stub and sprayed on some mouth freshener before shutting out her thoughts. SHE was determined to survive the ordeal for the next few days. And the random psycho-analyzing could only harm her cause.


Note - 1 out of 3 girls and 1 out of 5 boys will be sexually abused before they reach age 18. And 90 percent of these offenders are someone known to the kid.  This is a sad reality that we need to accept. In schools, daycare centers, in school buses/vans (especially those without female minders), in play areas within posh gated communities and even in the sanctity of their own homes, kids are a vulnerable lot as they do not realize the enormity of the violence to which they are subjected. But while these places are the usual suspects, most kids are especially vulnerable during the big family functions when they are exposed to loads of relatives. Yes, there is an ugly side to the big fat Indian weddings which we are reluctant to talk about. And that has been the sole objective of writing this piece. 

Read HERE to learn more about the symptoms of child abuse and the long term trauma suffered by the victims.

Strangers

Our paths crossed every morning. Well almost. I ensconced comfortably in my balcony with my morning cuppa watched him bounding down a well trodden path. Invariably our eyes would meet at times. Mine full of admiration for his lithe form and boundless energy. His filled with indifference at the bedraggled monster staring at him. I wondered what irked me more about him, his nonchalance or my own laziness.

This continued for a few weeks with none of our families being any wiser. Even as I watched and even awaited eagerly to catch a glimpse of his sprinting form, he would slow occasionally down for a fleeting second to give me a once over before continuing with his routine.

But every day is a new one. One hardly knows what surprises fate might spring up on a particular day. And so it happened today. Even as I eyed him surreptitiously , he came to a sudden halt right across my balcony. I regarded his sudden move with suspicion. But he looked on beseechingly at the cup in my hand. And then he shook his head as if trying to figure out what I was trying to hide with the other. Maybe he wanted me to invite him for some coffee. Or even more.

Now of all things in the whole wide world, I just happen to be vary particular about my early morning cuppa. It is a magic potion that miraculously transforms me from an over-worked and sleep deprived maniac to a well programmed robot who can accomplish a hundred tasks (and maybe a few more) for the next 18 hours. And hence, nothing can make me part with it. Strangers or no strangers.

I gave him a defiant stare. And much in the tradition of roadside romeos, he displayed a blatant disregard for my defiance. He stood his ground and continued staring at me with a beguiling expression. The exchange continued for a couple of minutes ( or was it just seconds that my caffeine deprived grey cells had stretched into minutes ). In the meanwhile, I spotted a few of his ilk hanging around clandestinely at what they had assumed to a safe distance. "Greedy fellas", I mouthed at him but it seemed like he had made up his mind to stalk me till doomsday.

Preseverence can be a very powerful tool when used sparingly. And in this case, he convinced me to change my mind. I put down the plate that I had been hiding all along on the balcony floor. And smiled my approval at him. He made a move towards the balcony. And then all hell broke loose.

"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee". The piercing screams of my neighbor's pressure cooker shattered the morning calm. The reverie had been broken. And even as I cast a baleful look towards the offender's balcony, he had taken off. Discreet as ever. I turned back quickly to salvage the moment. But he was gone. The squirrel had disappeared into the thick foliage of the tall trees that lined the society's compound wall.

Image courtesy :pixabay.com

Note - Living in the glass and concrete jungle that is ideally referred to as a city, we hardly get a chance to come in contact with other animals. While it is good to have a dog or some exotic pet in your living space, it is always important to live in harmony with nature and the indigenous species that surround us. Spare a thought for the squirrels or the birds that live in the trees nearby. Make it a point to leave out some food in a plate and some water in a large dish on the balcony or terrace if you have one. It is all the more important during the summer months. 

Book Review : The Japanese Wife ( Kunal Basu )

A clash of cultures ? Or an amalgamation to cater to the preferences of an increasingly globalized audience ? Maybe a bit of both I would say. Kunal Basu quite manages to author a clutch of short stories that manages to make one sit up and take notice. While each story is cleverly composed and clearly not on the repetitive side, some of them are definitely more entertaining and heart-warming than the rest.

The first and most important one is 'The Japanese Wife'. Subtle, emotional and providing a view into a strangely knotted web of human relationships, this one beautiful and stands for love of a platonic kind. Nothing that we commonly witness in this age but nevertheless it exists and thrives in some corner. The relationship between a school teacher and his Japanese penfriend turned wife is extremely moving. And more so at the climax when she arrives to mourn the death of a relationship that has never been consummated.

Another one among my favorites is on a slightly more cheerful note. 'Grateful Ganges' is about an american who arrives in India to immerse her husband's ashes. Her stay in a Punjabi household is remarkable and filled with remarkable moments. But the author cleverly saves the best for the last. The climax which has her reuniting with her soul-mate is a moment beautifully etched in ink.

'The accountant' on the other hand is one strange yet exceptional story. The transgression into the past life of a boring middle aged accountant is clearly a refreshingly new plot. Though I wished the ending to have been different, this remains among my choice picks.

'Tiger! Tiger!' and 'Snakecharmer' are the other two stories that had me hooked till the end. Though very different from each other, both deal with death. And the void that is created when a loved one leaves the mortal world.

Unfortunately, the remaining stories ( 7 of them to be precise ) were just plain average if not extremely boring ( I did not finish 2 of them) . But that is purely my opinion. Some folks may enjoy the lang drawn philosophical bits in these stories even if I found it tough to relate to these bits.

Still, I would recommend this book to folks who enjoy short stories ( and the sheer freedom that short reading sessions provide ) !!

Book Review : The Girl On The Train ( Paula Hawkins )

It is one of the best books of 2015. A thriller that kind of gets into your mind. Just like an innocent bystander who gets drawn into an surprising powerful vortex while trying to establish a passing connection with some stranger.

The story is about a girl who sees a blissful couple on her way to work everyday. It's just a glimpse that she catches from the train but proceeds to build up a fairy-tale around it. Just a recreation of everything that her life was or what it could still have been had not it been for a failed marriage and her drinking problems. But there are no real life fairy-tales and this one ends rather abruptly when the woman goes missing. Invariably, she finds herself mixed in the events leading to the disappearance . Only she cannot remember what it is due to a mental disorder.

To be honest, I found some parts of this book to be quite depressing. The lead character is quite sad, forlorn and there is too much focus on her drinking problem. While I have to say that Paula Hawkins has explained it very well but it kind of gets revolting and even repetitive at times. As far as thrillers go, this one seems to be more on the depressing side. In fact, all the characters are painted with grey, each one with failings of his/her own. Yeah, it is one of those books without any heroes. Only complicated and twisted characters who do not seem to be thinking straight.

The going back and forth between the dates is also kind of confusing at times. I had to look back a couple of times to make sure that I had the things in right chronological order. But the author makes up for every flaw with a climax that is as convincing as it can be.

A must read if you can handle a bit of depressing stuff. 

Book Review : Kafka On The Shore (Haruki Murakami)

Murukami is a master story teller and in an exclusive league of his own. He manages to weave a tantalizing tale, draws a reader into its web and then forces him/her to the limits of one's imagination . Divorce any thoughts of a comfort zone and be ready to adapt to a style of writing / cultural shift which one seldom encounters. Infact the last time I experienced anything like this was when I picked up 'Dead souls' by Nikolay Gogol. And I am no conservative reader by any stretch of imagination.

The story begins with a teenager leaving the comforts of his home to escape a damning prophecy made by his own father. He sets off on a journey that takes him to a library where he befriends a young man. There he meets a mysterious women and discovers a strange connection with her. But even more strange is the mentally impaired old man who has an ability to communicate with cats. A series of unrelated events take place that seem irrelevant to the plot at first. But after a while, one realizes that they do propel the narration in a direction that can best be described as winding for a considerable duration before that sudden burst of clarity dawns upon the reader.

Such is the story telling prowess of the author that one is unable to read this book at one's own pace. Murukami sets the pace and often forces one to stop and mull over the happenings instead of ploughing through the pages. Kafka or the lead character is forced to encounter a world that is as vast and mysterious as the sea. The titles of this book evokes the analogy of a man standing on the shore while trying to comprehend the vastness of what lies in front. Everything seems so surreal that one still feels the chills ( or aftereffects if you may please ) for days after finishing this masterpiece.

Twisted is how I would put it. While I did try to make a few theories of my own and draw some conclusions to understand this book, there are endless ways in which it can be interpreted. And I somehow get the feeling that I will come up with new theories/analogies when I read it again ( which will be pretty soon ). Even if the climax is something of a let down, it is a case of the journey being more exciting than the destination.

This is one plot that unravels in layers, often transcending the dimension of time and space. Be prepared to cast aside your prejudices and inhibitions before taking up this wonderful read that will forever change the way you look at fiction. One has not experienced the apex of fiction writing unless one has explored Murukami's works.

This is a 'MUST' read unless you want something exclusively light hearted !!

Perception

The words seemed to jump at him. Startled, he looked around himself.

Everything in the room had suddenly assumed gargantuan proportions and the eerie moonlight only seemed to add a sinister edge to the settings. The life sized portraits loomed large above him and gave the impression of having their stares fixed on him. The fluttering curtains had assumed a life of their own and their menacing shadows danced willfully on the walls.

His eyes fell on the tribal mask and the play of light around it . It appeared distorted beyond imagination and a loud scream escaped his mouth.

Running feet. The door being slammed open. And finally, a reassuring click.

"Piku !! How many times have I told you to switch on the lights before it is dark. And please stop fiddling with the magnifying glass."

Coffee

Image source: hulvendingsolutions.com

He felt the lone figure walk past his cubicle and stop at the coffee machine. The gush of water as the cup was rinsed, the clang it made when positioned below the spout,the beep of the coffee machine and finally the 'zoop' made by the hot liquid filling into the cup, everything amplified by the stillness of the floor during the graveyard shift.

It took all of his reserve of strength to resist the urge to stand up and steal a look at the lone figure who loitered near the coffee machine. Perhaps checking mails on the iphone.

Five minutes passed. Then another five. With each moment, his heart started to race more. Was it perhaps a subtle hint to join in for coffee ? Was it possible that the trainee had read his thoughts ? And had stayed back to confirm it. Or worse, was it all part of a plan hatched by his nosy colleagues ?

"No. Do not give in.", he admonished himself mentally. Just then, the footsteps started again. Moving closer by the second.

"Hi", said Ivan as he extended his hand. "Hi", Dave replied as he took in the beautifully manicured hand in his own.

Ivan's hand lingered for a few moments longer than necessary. And Dave experienced the stirrings of passion that began to rise within him. A passion that he could see reflected in Ivan's eyes. Passion that is raw. Primal. Unfulfilled. But most importantly, unfeigned. 

Choice ( 5 word fiction )

Image source: rhrealitycheck.org

Choice matters.

I choose life .

Mirror

Bloated. Distended. Bulbous. Shapeless. Pooja stared hard at the bulging female form which seemed to be beyond redemption. And the more she stared, the uglier it seemed to become. She could have chosen to avert her eyes from the horrid figure. Only it seemed to follow her everywhere. For her very soul inhabited this grotesque form.

The transition from the slender girl with those well defined curves to an almost whale like cylindrical likeness had distressed her to no end. She had tried every trick in the book to lose the excess weight but the pounds only seemed to pile on. She worked out everyday. Survived on bits of carrot, lettuce and gallons of water which she would have gladly swapped for fresh air. That is if she could. For now, all her hopes were pinned on her doctor as she awaited her turn.

Dr Usha glanced up from her desk and looked beyond the one way glass at her patients who had lined up for their appointment. She had retained this arrangement for the last twenty years. It allowed her to jog her memory on the patient's history and slip into the right avatar for the meeting. Her eyes came to rest on the next patient. "Such a lovely creature", she sighed as she mentally revisited the former's affliction. 25 year old female. Grossly underweight. Suffering from BDD (Body Dysmorphic Disorder).

Image source : mirror-mirror.org

Crossroads !!

Riya's mind was besieged by a cacophony of dissenting noises as she fiddled with the bottle containing the beautiful blue pills. It had accidentally slipped out of Gautam's pocket as he had got dressed this morning.

Her mouth almost twisted into a smile as she realized that he would go to any lengths to make her feel special. The fact that had been together for the last ten years was testimony to his devotion towards her. A fashion photographer by profession, he stumbled across temptation on a everyday basis.

A mist of joy engulfed her as she thought of their togetherness. But it quickly dissipated as her thoughts were interrupted by the ping that emanated from her Blackberry. Her mind directed itself towards more practical matters.

The seven year long clinical trial had thrown up some shocking results. As director of the program, it was her responsibility to bring it to the notice of the medical fraternity. And she had agreed to hush up the damning bits in exchange of a plum posting. Not that her conscience had not taken a drubbing.

But a faceless consumer is a totally different entity as compared to a longtime companion. And it had never figured into her calculations that Gautam also belonged to the fraternity of well-heeled middle aged men that were the primary target of this miracle pill. She personal life had always been divorced from her professional life. Or had been till now.

She was fast approaching menopause or the critical stage where one's sex life hits a plateau and then goes downhill. A tragedy that in her opinion could only be offset by reaching stratospheric heights in one's professional life. And she was almost breathing in that rarefied air.

She hesitated only for a fraction of a second before slipping the bottle underneath the bed. 

Soulmate 2.0 !!

Image courtesy : 1000awesomethings.com

The divorce had been a messy one. And unnecessary too.

Pragyan would go to college in two years time while Pratyusha would follow her after another year.
The two penthouses were hardly more than assets given the fact that both of them would be travelling for most of the time.He could have kept the cars given that she hardly rode anything except for her battered Scorpio.

In retrospect, everything that they had fought over, seemed exceedingly futile.

Something made her stop the SUV. The scene that stretched ahead of her had drawn her out of contemplation. A herd of wild buffaloes had gathered near the stream which was thrusting ahead in a muddy roil.

Throwing caution to the winds and swiftly alighting from her vehicle, she quickly reached for the Nikon DSLR. She desperately wanted to capture antics of the herd before the forest patrol chanced upon her. It was a restricted area of the Bandipur forest and vehicles were not allowed to stop.

Her new single status had kindled the nomad which had lain dormant all these years. Working her way up the corporate ladder and raising a brood at the same time had taken considerable toll on her. She had all but given up on photography while travel had taken on a totally different meaning.

As she zoomed on the herd and adjusted the focus, she heard another soft whir. As she looked across the gulf, her eyes focused on a tall form clad in khaki trousers and white shirt stationed next to a mud splattered Safari . His boyish physique almost seemed to be at a contrast to the salt and pepper hair.

Their eyes met almost at the same instant and he smiled back. Perhaps the Gods were smiling down at her once again.

B for Blood

He was bathed from head to toe in that warm viscous liquid, his lungs cried out for oxygen and yet he could not breathe.

She waited with bated breath for any sound to escape his lips.

Slap. The shock of it made his natural reflexes kick in and he inhaled a lungful of air before emanating a forceful scream.

She sighed with relief, after all, it was her blood coursing through his veins. 

Image courtesy - Funmozar.com

A for Apple ( Five Sentence Fiction Challenge )

It had firmly ensconced itself in the depths of the sticky warmth.

Thriving on the nectar and feeding on the sweet flesh of its host, it had grown from strength to strength.

"Swish" came the end, abrupt and out of the blue, leaving its twitching body in the throes of a cadaveric spasm .

"Tsk, Tsk", exclaimed the lady looking at the rotten halves of the apple.

"It is tough to fathom that something so exquisite on the outside can harbor such decay inside."

Image Courtesy - beerandwhiskeybros.com

Book Review : The Mahabharata Quest - The Alexander Secret (By Christopher C Doyle)

Buy online on Amazon .


Man has sought immortality since times immemorial. And the very ambitious Greek conqueror Alexander was no exception. But what secret does the Mahabharata hide that can bestow this ultimate boon on the emperor ??

This is one of the best suspense thrillers coming from an Indian author. It combines Greek history with a radical new interpretation of Indian mythology and spruces it up with a generous dose of science. The narration fluctuates between the present day and during the time of Alexander's reign while the action moves between Greece and India.

A discovery at a Greek tomb and a fire at clinical trials laboratory in Delhi spark off the action. Apart from a Greek archaeologist, a team working for the Indian Intelligence Bureau and an Indo-US task force is also sucked into the vortex of events that follow. A secret cult is out to get them before they unravel the mystery.

There are numerous twist and turns to keep one hooked. Plus the language used is really simple and the narration is fluid. Every chapter unearths some new and thankfully it all comes together seamlessly. While there is a romantic angle, the author does not dwell upon it for any longer than is appropriate for a thriller novel.

The worst part ? The story does not end with this book and one is left with a "To be continued...".

Not going to spoil it for you by revealing more. Do read this if you like suspense thrillers.