The last book I read was heavy. It was “the Last Mughal” by William Darlymple and the first book of its kind (a little text bookish and historic and purebred non-fiction) I read. I loved the description of character, opulence, routine life of India in the times of the Revolt of 1857.
And, I absolutely fell in love with this author, who so deliciously and ingeniously brought forward the nuances of each character, so much so, they actually talked and twitched and narrowed their eyes in my mind’s eye. There also is this chapter, where he brings forth the differences in the daily routines of the British Raj and life in the Mughal palace. The fluid way the chapter connected the two is sheer poetry in prose!
But, the book was one long chapter in my life and took me three seasons to see it through the end. No giggles or snickers when I show you the size of the teeny-weeny books I picked up last week. That two of them are collections of short stories is not coincidental at all.
With me now fighting for the much touted and overrated ‘me-time,’ I make it a point to read at least 10-15 pages daily. And, with short stories, you don’t need to book mark, or flip back to remember who’s who and, the best part, a sigh of contentment for at least one thing well done that day.
The title (I do exclaim these days!!) was what made me grab Roald Dahl’s book, while the picture on the cover of ‘the Last Mughal’ captivated me. And, in the case of the soft-spoken Ruskin Bond (I heard him on the TV), I knew I would love his descriptions of the people and sights of rural India. After all, he described and engaged me with his description of foliage and bees and mountains in ‘the Book of Nature.’
Then, these also arrived from Amazon. This is the Bible for now :)