One Chetan Bhagat, Four books, and Few thoughts

It all started when I was a youth.

Not that I consider myself out of that bracket already.. but just that I am no longer at the perky end of it.. you know the teeny end.. where you think that you have begun to figure things out while you have only begun to get more confused...

So, I remember, this itch for reading contemporary authors, I had developed in college.. I read the likes of Amitava Ghosh, Hari Kunzru, Kushwant Singh, even tried Arundhati Roy and Sulman Rushdie (unsuccessful attempts though). Therefore, when chota Chetan (young writer.. or youth writer - as he calls himself) came by.. I was overwhelmed to read him.

I was also incidentally dreaming for an IIM degree at the time .. and hence the story tellers IIT-IIM pedigree attracted me to the book all the more. More so, the first book 5point someone..was a great entertainer from end to end.. although later on.. his books started turning into more of movies than stories..

Nonetheless, I most definately enjoy reading his books for the sheer "youth" value in them. Although I am less dreamy eyed than I was before, it feels good to read and remember, how I would have believed and empathised with the plot, had I been a little less hardened in my shell.

While he continuously keeps his promise to include lots of young people, one steamy love scene, cute looking girlfriends, happy endings across all his books, there is something more that is common between these books..

5point someone-1night at the call center-3mistakes of my life-2states ...

Do you notice the continuous use of numbers in titles? Is it because of his IIT connections? Or is it some kind of Ekta Kapoor superstition? Or is there some kind of pattern in those ....5-1-3-2??

I wonder what would his next book be? Will it have the number 4 in it?

ANyhow, all I can do is wonder... and, at best, wait for the next one to arrive.. afterall, I am no Dan Brown.. and I hope there is no secret society he is part of. ;)

Remembering the days that were..

I remember the days when
Summers meant pickles on the rooftops
Winters meant guvava jam bottles all across the floor
Spring meant papad and chips and lilies in my courtyard

I remember the days when
Kite was a sport
Pigeons were pets
Milk was bought from milkmen with cattle not with dairies..

I remember the days when
BlackboardMs were black..
Telephones were black too..
Bi-cycles were lady birds
Kachichi imli and churan were after-school delicacies

I remember the days when
Doordarshan was television
Sundays were Mahabharat and Chandrakanta
Summer vacation was “Chutti-chutti”
And “Mile sur mera tumhara” was a song everyone knew

I remember the days when
My father read out Snowwhite and the seven dwarfs to me at night
We sent paper greetings to everyone on new years
A three-fold Inland letters could carry months of communication between loved ones
2 rupee notes and 10paise and 20 paise coins were still money

I remember the days when
Candies were Poppins, Gems and Kismi toffee bar
Cold drinks were Gold spot, Thumbs –up and Limca
Radio was Aakashvani

I still remember the days when
Means were limited,
Dreams were big,
And change knocking at our doorstep.

I still remember the days when life was simple....