Book Review: The Memory Collectors By Dete Meserve

Book: The Memory Collectors 

Author: Dete Meserve 

Genre: Sci-fi/time travel/mystery 

Publisher: Crooked Lane Books

Source: ARC from Netgalley.

The joy of reading an unputdownable book! There's something so intriguing and fascinating and kind of uplifting about time travel stories. 

‘When you know how easily things can be taken away from you, you appreciate them more.’

‘The Memory Collectors’ follows four strangers who are chosen for a rare opportunity — a time travel trip to the past for one hour.

Elizabeth yearns for some precious hour with her son, who died in an accident. She never knew why he, a newly appointed astronomy teacher, was at that place, at that time, with a drug dealer. Andy, a bestselling author is desperate to find his first love, Kate, a beautiful pianist who suddenly vanished after a whirlwind romance — the day after he professed his love for her. Logan craves the experience of walking, mountain climbing, or surfing once again, after a mishap landed him in a wheelchair. Brooke, after serving 900 days in jail, seeks an hour of relief from a haunting guilt of an unforgivable mistake by going back to a time when she wasn't tagged a criminal.

Strangely enough, their one hour time extends, as time travel scientists are seemingly unable to extract them from the past. As they spend more time in the same city, in the same timeline, their paths cross. And as they search for answers, they discover that their lives are interconnected.

‘We all think we know what other people should do. But I see now that each of us is going on roads only we can see.’

This unique story of love, grief, hope, and second chances is beautifully written and intelligently executed.

‘The details take my breath away. We’re at a wooden table in a courtyard. Mounds of red and purple bougainvillea spill over its stone walls. Rose-fingered sunlight drifts through the leaves of a guava tree which fashions a canopy over our table. I draw in a slow, soothing breath of salty air. The ocean is nearby. It feels so damn real.’

The book is full of surprises, secrets, twists, and turns that keep you hooked until the end (well, almost — we’ll talk about that later). The chapters are short and end with cliffhangers, making it difficult to put down.

The characters are well-defined; their emotions, regrets, doubts, and dilemmas are skillfully expressed. My favourite was Elizabeth. Her moments with Sam are so beautiful — full of love, hope, and emotion. Even a brief scene in the past with her husband Mark is lovely. Andy’s past with Kate is intriguing and mysterious. Brooke’s part felt okay but was essential, as she plays a significant role. 

Now about keeping me hooked till the end —it did manage to do that, however in the final chapters, when they all come back to the present, the story starts to lose steam a bit and meanders. 

Logan — I felt his character and backstory were not as compelling. In fact, I personally think the story could have been tighter without him. 

I understand this is an advance review copy, but there were editing errors, which I hope will be fixed by the time of publication.

Overall, a very intriguing, mysterious, and engrossing story. A must-read if you particularly enjoy time travel tales.

The Compartment

 

            Image source: Freepik

It was a cold, foggy night, a stunned silence stretched across the deserted railway station. The only working yellow light seemed like a stain in the air. There was no hint of life except a black dog that just lumbered past as though it sniffed some danger. 

No, wait! There was a dainty figure sitting on a bench. A girl bundled in a black shawl. And then a shadow emerged from the darkness. He stopped, as he spotted the girl. He approached her, hovered around her. 

‘Hey!’ The man said and settled beside her.

‘Want to have some fun, huh?’

The girl looked up, clearly uncomfortable. She squirmed and shifted a little.

‘What say? Let’s go somewhere? Maybe inside the train? Nobody will arrive until 4 in the morning. We have time.’ A lecherous smile played on his lips.

The girl rose to her feet and started walking hastily. The man, relentless, followed her with long strides. He caught her with a swift motion. Gripping her elbow, he muttered, ‘I’ll give you money if you want.’

‘No! Please let me go!’ The girl yelled.

‘Oh, come on!’ He pulled her elbow, and the girl’s dainty figure stumbled. Her shrill voice faded in the air.

He almost dragged her to the nearest isolated compartment and pushed her on a seat. The man began to unbutton his shirt, his movements urgent and frantic. His hands barely touched his belt when something shifted in the girl’s body.

The look in her eyes changed, ferocity replacing fear.

She levered herself up with a fluid motion. The man tried to push her again, but something unexpected left him dazed.

The girl clutched his throat, her fingers tightening with brutal force. His eyes protruded as her grip tightened. He tried to remove her hands, but she pushed him on the hard floor with a powerful thrust.

After a few moments, the girl emerged from the compartment, picked up her shawl from the platform, and walked away, leaving the battered body of the man writhing and whimpering on the cold, hard floor of the train. 

The Slow Imprint Books by Neelesh Misra: A Fresh Path to the Art of Storytelling

Listening to Yaadon Ka Idiot Box stories had been a part of my life, but at that time, I never imagined I would one day be writing for the show—mainly because I didn’t write Hindi stories back then.

It’s been exactly two years since I became part of Mandali—the wonderful YKIB writers’ team that has allowed me to grow as a writer. We discuss stories and find every possible way to enhance them. It’s always a joy to attend those meetings.

I’m happy to share that Neelesh Sir finally stepped into the world of publishing, amplifying fresh and powerful voices (which I had always expected)—The Slow Imprint, in association with Eka by Westland Books. 

There was a wonderful book launch event yesterday (18th November). While I couldn’t attend the launch, I’m delighted about this new initiative. Happy to share the details.

The Books are on Pre-Orders.

And look at the lovely covers!

Gaon Se Bees Postcards by Shri Shiv Balak Misra,

the father of Neelesh Misra.

He is a geologist, and it’s a fascinating collection of his essays, experiences, and anecdotes.

Main Aksar Sochta Hoon by Neelesh Misra.

I’m sure you know that, apart from being a storyteller, Neelesh Sir is also a Bollywood lyricist with many popular songs to his credit. This book is a collection of poems written by him.

Junglee Phoolon Si Ladki by Anulata Raj Nair

The creative head and producer of YKIB, Anulata Ji writes lyrical and evocative stories across various genres. It’s a collection of her lovely, lovely stories.

Magic Box: A Collection of Children’s Stories

My son is particularly looking forward to this book. It features stories by Anulata Raj Nair, Deepak Rangnathan, Anita Sethi, and Deeksha Chaudhary.

Kaaljayi: Stories from the Vedas and Puranas

It’s a collection of imaginative spiritual tales by Chhavi Nigam, Anulata Raj Nair, Hrushali Jain, Shikha Dwedi, and Anulata Raj Nair.

So here are a variety of stories, and I’m really looking forward to reading them. I hope you find them interesting!

Also, if you enjoy a tale with an unexpected twist, you can pick my Free short story, The Accident, published by Juggernaut Books. 

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If We Were Having Tea: Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay

 

I’m not sure where it came from but I suddenly imagine myself in a Bengali household. It’s an old fashioned Bengali home with a large verandah and a small courtyard where a huge neem tree stands tall. This room I stand in has a high ceiling, lined with heavy beams. There are two large windows with green shutters. A big, wooden almirah is tucked at the far corner; its glass doors flaunt nicely stacked books. Old books. I walk towards it and the first book I see is probably Datta, as my very limited knowledge of Bengali tells me. I have read the Hindi translation of this book.

I walk back and sit on a chair by the window from where I can have two views —inside there is a long corridor which leads to a couple of closed doors. Outside, there’s a narrow, quiet alley. The purplish grey sky waits for the dawn to break.

At this eerily early hour, the still sleepy house is breathing a pin drop silence. 

A gust of wind makes the white curtain hanging from the door frame flutter and I glance towards it. Suddenly you appear from nowhere, clad in a crisp white dhoti-kurta, a sombre expression on your face, and my childhood comes rushing towards me. My heart skips several beats as I cannot believe I am actually seeing you. Is it a dream, I wonder. It feels like I have time travelled. And now I feel what if you sit across from me and we have a little chat with a cup of tea? I can almost smell adrak-elaichi waali chai brewing somewhere. 

If we were having tea, I would simply tell you how much I have adored you all these years. 

I don't remember how I got introduced and drawn towards your books. Maybe it was after I found Mannu Bhandari’s ‘Swami’ in the small library of our home. You may not know about it so I’d tell you that it was a modified version of your book Swami. It remains my favourite till date. 

Or maybe it was after I read your poignant short story ‘Ram Ki Sumati’. 

I could see a flicker of a smile on your face and I’d quickly add, with a hint of pride, that we share our native land. I would tell you that I had even crossed  your school in the town where you used to study as a young boy. It was Durga Charan High School, right? This thought fascinates me so much that it's indescribable.

If we were having tea, I would tell you that I read your books in Hindi without even realizing that I was reading translations. I feel so lucky to have access to your books because of beautiful translations. I would gladly inform you that I have become a translator, something I had never thought I would do. But now that I am a translator, it gives me a different kind of feeling thinking of your books. 

If we were having tea, I would tell you that your books have been adapted into many beautiful movies like Khushboo, Swami, Parineeta and many more. I would see a flicker of surprise in your eyes. You shouldn't be surprised though because I have heard that you were on the sets when Devdas was being made. 

I was at my Maa’s friend's place when I found Devdas first. It peeked through the glass doors of an old, dusty bookshelf and I shamelessly borrowed it from her. 

I’d tell you that we have at least fifteen other Devdas movies, and I’m sure it would make you laugh. 

If we were having tea, I’d tell you that I had requested someone to buy your books from Calcutta and she brought me a big fat book — a collection of your novellas — Grihdaah, Chandranath, Parineeta, Srikant, Brahman Ki Beti, Path Ke Davedar, Charitraheen, Biraj Bahu. 

Sometimes I wish I could read Bengali.

 

If we were having tea, we would talk about writing and good storytelling. How could we not? How could I miss this chance? I would tell you how I felt that your stories were way ahead of time. Would you teach me a few (a lot of, actually) things about storytelling and creating memorable characters? Particularly strong female protagonists.

I am sure I would see a content smile playing on your lips. 

If we were having tea, I’d tell you that I dug out your book Panditmashai (Pandit Ji in Hindi) after 17-18 years and am currently reading it.

As we continue to talk, the dawn breaks into a golden, gleeful morning. Streaks of sunshine make a crisscross pattern on the table. A voice comes from somewhere. The sunshine turns bright, so bright that it blurs your presence, as though it's emanating from you. It feels like you are disappearing and my heart sinks. I don’t want this rendezvous to end. I want to talk more. 

‘I have to go. It was lovely talking to you,’ you say with a soft smile and my heart melts. You get up and walk towards the same door you came from. The brightness subsides and I see you fade into the length of the corridor. 

(It is Saratchandra's birthday today)

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Book Review: White Mulberry by Rosa Kwon Easton

Book: White Mulberry 

Author: Rosa Kwon Easton

Publisher: Lake Union 

Source: Netgalley (for an honest review)

Genre: Literary/Historical Fiction

Pages: 331 (to be released on Dec 1, 2024)

I love reading multicultural stories, particularly stories set in Japan fascinate me. This story, however, is more about Korean people and their culture, dominated by Japan army and administration during WWII. The book is inspired by the true life story of the author’s grandmother’s (Halmeoni) life. 

This is Miyoung/Miyoko’s story, who lived with her mother and stepsister in Japan-occupied Korea (during World War II). When she is 12, her sister Bohbeh is forced to leave for Japan to marry an unknown man, in hope of a better life for her. When Miyoung turns 13, she too leaves Korea to live with her sister in Japan (mainly to study and escape an unwanted marriage). 

The story, which spans over 13 years, tells about familial bond, determination (to achieve something substantial in life), love, loss, and survival.  

I enjoyed reading the book from the very beginning when Miyoung is perched on the sole mulberry tree outside her house and watches a stranger stopping outside the gate, eyeing her sister, Bohbeh. 

The writing is mostly good. However, at certain points it slips into the ‘too much telling’ mode and gets repetitive. I could not ignore the repeated usage of ‘Warmed’ (her/her tired body or heart or her body/heart warmed). But overall, the book is nicely written and, most importantly, in a very engaging manner. The descriptions of setting, food, and culture are vivid and create lovely imagery. 

The characters: I really liked Miyoung/Miyoko (her Japanese name). She is smart, intelligent, determined, so focused on her studies and career, and practical. Too practical that sometimes it smacks of selfishness. I don't know if the author has done this purposefully (because there are several other ways to show the practicality as per the situation), but Miyoung’s emotions suddenly brim when she finds some kinds of benefits, even if it's love. 

I loved Teacher Kim, Taeyoung (her stepbrother), and Bohbeh. The last two chapters were full of apprehensions that kept me on the edge of the seat. 

Overall, an interesting, well-written, and culturally rich story that I enjoyed reading. 

 

My Favourite Books with Octogenarian/Elderly Protagonists

 

I have said this so many times, saying it again. For me, the writing style and the characters make a big difference. If I connect with the characters and the writing style of the author, the subject or genre doesn't matter. 

In this post, I am going to talk about three books with an Octogenarian (a person who is between 80 and 89 years old) as the main protagonist. 

So, I’ll start with: The Car Share by Zoe Brisby because this is probably the first book I read and loved where one of the protagonists was an Octogenarian. Also because August is Women in Translation month, and this book is translated from the French by Kelly Lardin.

To be very honest, I wasn't even familiar with the term Octogenarian before. 

Maxine, a 90 yo with Alzheimer's & Alex, a 25 yo with depression share a car for a road trip. This journey lasts for roughly two days and what a terrific journey! Every scene, every situation is so interesting and meaningful.

It hooked me from the very first page. The protagonists — Maxine (she's a rockstar!) & Alex (he's so cute) — are so adorable! Their bonding is so endearing, their conversation so entertaining and witty! 

It's so sweet, funny, entertaining and heartwarming. I never thought I would love a book with such starkly different protagonists.

The ending kind of left me with a sense of loss. But, interestingly, the author Zoe Brisby shared a bonus chapter, which was like an epilogue, and I liked that as well even though I am not a fan of prologues or epilogues.

The Tea Service by Debeshi Gooptu

‘The tea would arrive on the dot at four every evening accompanied by her grandson. There was no sign of the little boy today. Where had he vanished?’

Debeshi is a dear friend, but when I say that she is a very good writer and storyteller, I am not being biased.

It’s not really a book. It's a Kindle short story, told from the point of view of an old lady who is waiting for her grandson. So poignant and beautifully written. One of my favourite stories by Debeshi who has written innumerable stories. 

Free for Kindle Unlimited users.

Locked away life by Drew Davies

‘Life should not be dampened with regret but nourished with hopes and dreams.’

Another Octogenarian (Esther)—Teenager (Bruno, who’s struggling to understand his sexual identity) pairing. Their bonding is so endearing.

Esther has shut away herself in her vine-covered manor house on the top of a hill for as long as she can remember.

And on a sunny spring day, eighteen-year-old Bruno is in the local library when he spots an advert. The old lady on the hill is looking for someone who can teach her about internet.

Heartwarming, thoughtful and refreshingly different. Beautiful, engaging writing style. A very good read!

It's free for Kindle Unlimited users.

Now, before you go, I'd like to tell you about my new translation. It doesn't have an octogenarian protagonist but one of the main characters is an elderly man ―Mohammad Zia Ul Haq, the former President of Pakistan.

My Hindi translation of A Case of Exploding Mangoes by Mohammed Hanif (Published by Kautilya Books) is out now.

It's a funny, witty political novel, based on the 1988 aircraft crash that killed Zia-Ul-Haq. Published by Penguin Books, the original book was longlisted for the Man Booker Prize. Have you read the original book?

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Book Review: The Magician Who Bought Dreams by Vikkram Dewan

Book: The Magician Who Bought Dreams

Author: Vikkram Dewan

Genre: Supernatural Mystery

Publisher: Palette Books (English imprint of Sahitya Vimarsh)

Pages: 208

Price: ₹250

Blurb (as on the back cover):

Welcome to the world of the supernatural and crypt ―where nothing is what it seems! 

A magician who buys people's dreams before making them vanish. A mysterious radio that makes you listen to people talking to God. Find out how seductive the shape shifting 'Whore of Babylon’ can be. Or how a cursed wine glass can become a one way portal to other worlds. Listen to the confessions of the first White Tantrik in whose skewed world view Black is White and Magic is Right. 

The concept is intriguing, isn't it? Mysterious. It's a collection of five short stories: The Magician Who Bought Dreams, The God’s Radio, Strange Love with a Succubus Demon, The Cursed Glass and The Confessions of Warlock.

The first two stories are detective, which feature a detective duo: Mishti (a 13-14 year old girl) and Jogawar (a fifty year old man). They are easy going, thorough professionals. I liked this idea. 

However, there are certain things that I found problematic that kind of distracted me from the main storylines.

Writing/storytelling. While I liked the concept, I didn't connect with the writing style. The writing doesn't create a mysterious aura or imagery which was required for these kinds of stories. I guess that's because the stories whiz past where they need to go a bit slow, whereas at many places, they appear to be meandering (unnecessary incidents/conversations).

There's no fixed point of view or synchronisation in the narration. In short stories, a fixed pov and orderly narrative work better, in my opinion, and even if you want to switch, you have to do it seamlessly.

Characters:

As I said, I liked the idea of the unusual Misti-Jogawar jodi, but there's no introduction of the characters and how they came together solving the cases. 

I’m presuming it's the first book featuring the duo. Even if it's not, I wanted to know how they met, what prompted them to investigate these cases together. How did they become so comfortable that they lived together etc? 

Editing: there are several editing errors. And not just grammatical errors, this book requires a round of structural editing as well. I am particularly surprised because this is from a traditional publishing house. 

These things collectively disrupted the flow of reading. For me, the otherwise promising storylines didn't turn out very enjoyable. 

About the author:

Vikkram Dewan is a Delhi based author, editor and researcher on Occult, paranormal, satanist cults and beliefs. He writes historical fiction, thrillers and adventure stories with elements of horror and paranormal. 

His publishing credits include 3 novels in English and 3 novels in Hindi, and several articles and short stories.

I received this book from the publisher for an honest review. 

मारिया...(My Hindi Translation of Maria by Parvathy)

This is my Hindi translation of a beautiful write up Maria, written by Parvathy. You can read the original post HERE. She writes beautifully. Here's another translation that I did before. 'माँ, मैं और मसाला चाय'

मारिया,

इक रोज़ मेरी किसी से बात हुई कि दिल टूटने के बाद फिर से किसी पे भरोसा कैसे किया जा सकता है…

ऐसा तो नहीं कि सिर्फ इश्क़ में मिलने वाला दर्द ही दुख देता है?

कई और चीज़ें होती हैं जिससे तक़लीफ़ होती है ―जैसे, किसी जगह को अलविदा कहना।

वो पल जब आखिरकार आपको खुद के और किसी अपने के दरमियान एक लकीर खींचनी पड़ जाती है।

जैसे, ना चाहते हुए भी कहीं दूर चले जाना।

उस चीज़ को पाने की कोशिश करना छोड़ देना जिसे आपने कभी दिल से चाहा था।

कई ग़म होते हैं इस दुनिया में, 

पर मोहब्बत में हम जिस दर्द से मुख़ातिब होते हैं, वो सबसे ज़्यादा चोट पहुंचाता है।

मैं नहीं जानता कि फिर से यक़ीन करना कैसे मुमकिन हो सकता है।

शायद हम भूल जाते हैं कि हमारा दिल एक न एक दिन दुख से उबर ही जाता है।

हम उम्मीद के एक क़तरे को थामे रहते हैं,

तब भी जब लगता है कि सबकुछ ख़त्म हो चुका है, ये सोचकर कि एक दिन चीज़ें बदल जाएंगी।

मुझे लगता है कि हम इस तरह ही जी पाते हैं,

आगे बढ़ने की हिम्मत जुटाते हैं और फिर साँसें लेना नामुमकिन सा नहीं लगता।

मुश्किल से मुश्किल दिनों,

और हताश पलों में भी नहीं।

मेरे ख़्याल से अलविदा कहना,

क्योंकि आपको पता है कि यही सही वक्त है,

बड़े साहस का काम है।

जानते बूझते उसे जाने देना

जो कि शायद कभी आपके दिल का सबसे खूबसूरत हिस्सा था।

आगे बढ़ना, फिर से खिल पाना।

पर मन के धागे का एक छोर छूटा रहेगा कहीं,  इस आस में कि कोई इसे फिर से बांधेगा। दिल का एक खाली कोना हमेशा इस इंतज़ार में होगा कि कोई उस सूनेपन को भर देगा।

या फिर हम ज़िन्दगी ये जानते हुए जिए चले जाएंगे कि मन की नीरवता शायद कभी ना भरे। और ऐसा हो तो कोई बात नहीं, है ना?

हमने कभी टूटकर प्यार किया था,

और किसी ने हमें भी उसी शिद्द्त से चाहा था,

क्या ये काफ़ी नहीं?

पता है,

कल मैंने पहली बार एक गाना सुना,

औरों के लिए पुराना हो शायद, पर मेरे लिए वो गाना नया था।

उसे सुनकर मुझे तुम याद आ गयी।

जाने कितनी छोटी-छोटी, नयी सी बातें हैं

जो मैंने एक बक्से में सहेज कर रखी है।

ताकि जब हम कभी मिलें तो उन्हें तुम्हें दे सकूं।

अक्सर सोचता हूँ,

कि क्या तुम भी ऐसा करती हो।

कसम से, मैं ज़िन्दगी काट नहीं रहा,

जी रहा हूँ।

और मुझे उम्मीद है कि बारिश में

तुम्हारे पैर अब भी थिरकते होंगे।

तुम्हारा,

अमोर


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