The Island

The Island by Victoria Hislop is a novel of rare moral gravity and emotional finesse, a work that marries intimate human suffering to a scrupulously rendered social history. Rooted in Greece yet universal in its reach, the book meditates on love and betrayal, endurance and loss, and the long, corrosive shadows cast by silence. At its centre lies leprosy—once a disease more feared than understood—employed by Hislop not merely as a medical condition but as a potent metaphor for exile, stigma, and society’s instinct to banish what it cannot bear to confront. What might have become a bleak chronicle of suffering is instead transformed into a profoundly humane narrative about dignity, resilience, and the stubborn persistence of hope.

The novel unfolds across two interwoven timelines: the early-to-mid twentieth century and the early years of the new millennium. Its emotional and historical fulcrum is Spinalonga, the small, wind-lashed island off the coast of Crete that served as Greece’s official leper colony from 1903 until 1957. For more than half a century, Spinalonga existed in the national imagination as a place of dread—a terminal destination for those diagnosed with the disease, forcibly excised from society and condemned to live, and often die, in isolation.

This sombre history is framed by a contemporary quest. Alexis Fielding, a young English woman, travels to Crete in search of answers about her mother’s past—a past shrouded in evasions, silences, and an unarticulated grief. The novel opens with Alexis arriving in the village of Plaka, armed only with a letter of introduction from her mother, Sophia. Raised on fragments and omissions, Alexis has grown up knowing almost nothing of her mother’s childhood or family. Sophia’s resolute refusal to speak of her life in Greece has always suggested not indifference but a carefully guarded wound.

The letter leads Alexis to Fotini, an elderly family friend who becomes the novel’s custodian of memory. Through Fotini’s measured, compassionate narration, the story slips effortlessly into the past. At its heart is Eleni, Alexis’s great-grandmother—a woman of quiet strength living a modest yet fulfilled life in Plaka with her husband and two daughters, Anna and Maria. Their days are shaped by the steady rhythms of village existence: fishing, farming, gossip, ritual, and the consolations of a tightly knit community.

This fragile equilibrium is shattered when Eleni is diagnosed with leprosy. In an era when the disease was synonymous with moral taint as much as physical decay, diagnosis amounts to a social death sentence. With chilling efficiency and little compassion, Eleni is torn from her family and exiled to Spinalonga. Her departure is catastrophic—not only for her, but for those left behind, who must shoulder the burden of shame, fear, and the ever-present terror of contagion.

Yet Hislop refuses to depict Spinalonga as a mere landscape of despair. The suffering is undeniable—disfigurement, inadequate medical care, grinding poverty, and relentless stigma—but within these confines, life persists. The island’s inhabitants build homes, form relationships, establish shops and social structures, and carve out moments of laughter and tenderness. Against expectation, Spinalonga becomes not only a place of punishment but also one of unexpected community.

Eleni emerges as a quiet moral centre on the island, refusing to relinquish her sense of self or humanity. Over time, incremental improvements arrive: better treatments, more enlightened administration, and doctors who reject the logic of abandonment in favour of compassion. Through Eleni’s experience, the novel challenges the assumption that isolation erases identity. On Spinalonga, love and jealousy, ambition and kindness, flourish—sometimes in purer, less compromised forms than in the so-called healthy world beyond.

Back in Plaka, Eleni’s daughters grow up in the long shadow of her absence. Anna, the elder, is consumed by bitterness and fear, haunted by the possibility that she too may be infected. Maria, gentler and more morally grounded, struggles to hold the remnants of the family together. It is Anna’s choices, however, that propel much of the novel’s tragedy. Driven by jealousy, selfishness, and a desperate desire for escape, she enters a disastrous marriage and commits betrayals whose consequences reverberate across generations. Her path stands in stark contrast to Maria’s loyalty and quiet strength, underscoring one of the novel’s central truths: that fear and secrecy corrode the soul, while truth—however painful—offers the only credible route to healing.

As the decades pass, the wider world intrudes. Crete is scarred by war, occupation, and political upheaval. Scientific progress eventually renders leprosy treatable, eroding the moral justification for Spinalonga’s continued existence. When the colony finally closes in 1957, its remaining inhabitants are permitted to return to the mainland. Yet liberation is bittersweet. After years of exclusion, reintegration proves fraught, haunted by lingering prejudice and deep emotional dislocation.

When Fotini’s account draws to a close, Alexis at last comprehends the magnitude of her family’s suffering—and the true reason for her mother’s silence. Sophia’s refusal to revisit the past is revealed not as coldness but as an act of fierce protection: an attempt to bury trauma rather than bequeath it to the next generation.

Ultimately, The Island is about far more than leprosy. It is a meditation on the destructive power of stigma, the resilience of communities under extreme conditions, the moral cost of betrayal and concealment, and the redemptive possibilities of truth and remembrance. Hislop’s prose is lucid and quietly evocative, allowing emotion to accumulate organically rather than erupt in melodrama. Her rendering of Spinalonga is especially striking, transforming a historical footnote into a living, breathing world of fully realised lives.

Deeply moving and ethically resonant, The Island succeeds both as an expansive family saga and as an act of historical reclamation. By giving voice to those once silenced and shunned, Victoria Hislop restores dignity to lives erased by fear and ignorance. The novel lingers long after the final page—not with grand gestures, but with a quiet, insistent reminder that compassion, once denied, is often the most necessary virtue of all.

The Count of Monte Cristo

Finished reading a fascinating book by Alexandre Dumas "The Count of Monte Cristo" a book of love, deception, revenge and murder - tragic characters in the book - an absolute page turner - it is a timeless classic as relevant today as it was when it was written in 1844. It focuses on a man who is wrongfully imprisoned, escapes from jail, acquires a fortune, and then sets about getting revenge against those responsible for his wrongful confinement. Goodreads 5/5

Murder in Mesopotamia

Agatha Christie is on familiar ground when she covers murders in rural England which is her speciality - unfortunately "Murder in Mesopotamia" is a story based in Iraq on an archeological site - a murder takes place and Hercule Poirot is travelling some place nearby - so he comes in and solves the crime in his inimitable style - Christie maintains the suspense till the end in every book of hers - same is true of this one as well. Goodreads 4/5

Echoes in the Darkness

Just finished reading a true crime story by Joseph Wambaugh - "Echoes in the Darkness". This book is regarding the murder mystery of Susan Reinert a divorced school teacher and her two children Karen and Michael who were never found since that fateful day in June 1979. She was having a secret affair with another school teacher William Bradfield who was famous for his numerous flings with women. He was having another secret affair with another teacher Sue Myers and this after having two failed marriages in the past. Whilst he was juggling with the two teachers he started and successfully carried two more affairs both with students of the Upper Merion High School in Main Line, Philadelphia where they were all enrolled. One of the student was a minor when he started his affair, but all his women swore by his affections. The principal of the school was Jay Smith an ex-army officer and quite a character in himself with revelations of sexual escapades and fantasies, shoplifting and his own daughter Stephanie and son-in-law Eddie Hunsberger were never found – it was alleged that Smith had murdered his daughter and son-in-law but they just vanished from the face of earth and were never found to this day. The prosecution had to rely on circumstantial evidence in this case. Much of the book in the first half is devoted to the peccadilloes of William Bradfield and Jay Smith in conjuring up their images as crazy, demented individuals. Goodreads 5/5 

Just a Matter of Time

“Just a matter of time” by james Hadley chase is a book i picked up from the flea stall near churchgate station for rupees 20/- and i am a big fan of james Hadley chase. It is a short book of 190 pages which typically is the average size of chase books. Chase does not disappoint again. He is unarguably the best story teller with fast paced stories which typically involves crime, intrigue, suspense, blackmail, sex and he typically writes about the under dregs of society. Mrs. Morely Johnson is an almost blind widower with loads of money, jewellery, paintings, investments and only one heir, a nephew who is a good for nothing fella, so she disowns him in the will, most of which goes to charity a few to the investment banker who takes care of her investments. Assorted characters descend on the plot in the form of driver, nurse one of whom is a master forger and the other a sex bomb. The plot moves inextricably fast from one scheme gone good to another gone awry into an interesting climax. I would rate it 5/5 and chase fans don’t need a second recommendation at all – if they are like me, they would devour all of james Hadley chase books. 

Bear Island

Just finished reading “Bear Island” by Alistair Maclean my favourite author.  Dr. Marlowe is a doctor on board a fishing trawler Morning Rose which is headed towards Bear Island in Barents Sea for some film shooting of which nobody knows what the script is about. Enroute, the film crew start getting murdered one after another in mysterious circumstances. The plot gets murkier when the crew lands on the inhospitable and alien Bear Island and the murders continue. Written in first person narrative, Maclean gradually lets the suspense out one after another taking the story to some connection in post war Europe. A gripping enthralling book, a typically pot boiler by Alistair Maclean. Rating 5/5 – Highly Recommended

Fathers and Sons

This is a brilliant book dealing with the love of fathers towards their sons. Arcady and Bazarov return to Arcady's father's house in rural hinterland of mid-19th century. They are idealistic and have developed a nihilistic approach in life where Arcady is in awe of Bazarov. Arcady's father Nicholas and Paul are old timers who have modernised by freeing serfs and Nicholas loves his son but is upset when both Arcady and Bazarov decide to leave their home to go to a neighbour where they visit Anna Sergeyevna who is a widow where surprisingly Bazarov falls madly in love with Anna who is older to him and Arcady has a crush on Anna but slowly moves towards Katya, Anna's sister. Falling in love was like an anathema to Bazarov due to his nihilistic leanings, so both of them come back to Arcady's house. In between Bazarov visits his old parents Vassily Ivanich and Arina Vlassyevna his father and mother. His parents are old and they are deliriously excited to have Bazarov back and shower him with blessings and love which Bazarov likes in the beginning but starts detesting later on, again his nihilistic leanings throwing him against his own parents. The interplay between Bazarov and his parents and their emotions which Bazarov so cruelly crushes is where "Fathers and Sons" achieves greatness. Turgenev has written beautifully and movingly and it would be difficult not to get emotionally involved in this father-son interlude. Love of a father towards his offspring is greater than any idealism that this world produces in mid-19th century or even now in the early 21st century and this is what makes Turgenev's book timeless. "He has abandoned us, he has abandoned us" quivered Vassily Ivanich when Bazarov leaves his home  - this was an absolutely gut wrenching part of the book. After Anna rejects his love due to her strong independence, Bazarov returns to Arcady's house and falls in love again with Nicholas's young mistress whom he kisses which is seen by Paul who detests Bazarov for his arrogance and his anti-authority views. Bazarov is forced to leave Arcady's house due to a gun duel with Paul. What happens to Bazarov, Arcady and their old parents - this book is highly recommended - a Russian classic - my rating 5/5

The Sacred Bones

The Sacred Bones is a breathless conspiracy thriller that deftly braids archaeology, religious history, geopolitical conflict, and forensic science into a narrative propelled by a single, incendiary question: what if the physical remains of Jesus Christ were to be discovered? From this audacious premise, Michael Byrnes fashions a tale whose repercussions ripple across faiths, nations, and centuries of belief.

The novel opens with operatic violence—a meticulously planned raid on a clandestine vault beneath Jerusalem’s Temple Mount. A priceless ancient ossuary, a stone burial box of immense historical and theological value, is stolen, leaving thirteen Israeli soldiers and police officers dead in its wake. The desecration of one of the world’s most sacred sites ignites fury, grief, and recrimination, instantly exacerbating the already volatile tensions between Jewish and Palestinian communities. What begins as a theft swiftly metastasizes into a geopolitical crisis.

News of the missing ossuary soon reaches the corridors of power within Vatican City. Alarmed by the potentially cataclysmic implications of such a discovery, the Vatican moves with characteristic secrecy. Two specialists are discreetly summoned: Charlotte Hennesey, a gifted American forensic geneticist burdened by personal illness, and Giovanni Bersei, an erudite Italian anthropologist. Their mandate is clear yet perilous—to examine the bones contained within the ossuary and determine their provenance. As science begins to speak, the evidence points to a first-century man who was crucified. For Charlotte, the implications are deeply unsettling: could these remains belong to Jesus of Nazareth himself?

Byrnes alternates between the combustible streets and negotiating chambers of Jerusalem and the hushed, pressure-laden laboratories and antechambers of Rome. In the Holy Land, accusations fly freely as Jews and Muslims alike suspect one another of sacrilege, each fearful of losing moral and political ground. The fragile equilibrium of the region trembles under the weight of rumor, suspicion, and symbolic outrage.

In Rome, the tension is no less acute. Vatican officials—some devout, some doctrinaire, others quietly manipulative—hover over the investigation. Figures such as Cardinal Santelli embody the institutional anxiety of a Church that understands what is at stake: a finding that could overturn two millennia of doctrine. Salvatore Conte, a watchful Vatican security expert, ensures that the scientists are never truly alone, while the unspoken threat to their safety looms ever larger.

Layered atop this contemporary crisis is a historical undercurrent of intrigue. Byrnes draws upon legends of the Knights Templar, suggesting that the secret of these bones may have been protected—or pursued—across generations. The narrative oscillates between ancient conspiracies and modern conflicts, amplifying both mystery and momentum. As forensic certainty grows, so too does the enormity of the question: what would such a discovery mean for history, for science, and for the world’s great religions?

The cast is sharply delineated. Charlotte Hennesey provides the novel’s scientific and emotional core, her brilliance tempered by vulnerability. Giovanni Bersei lends scholarly ballast and archaeological insight. Graham Barton anchors the Jerusalem strand of the investigation, while Vatican powerbrokers shape events from the shadows, their motives ranging from sincere piety to naked self-preservation.

At its heart, The Sacred Bones situates itself at the fraught crossroads of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam—not merely as systems of belief, but as potent political forces capable of placing entire regions on edge. The struggle over a single relic becomes emblematic of how faith, history, and power can collide with devastating consequences. With its blend of modern science, ancient secrets, and institutional cover-ups, the novel is both an engrossing thriller and a provocation—inviting readers to contemplate how fragile the foundations of belief may be when confronted by empirical truth.

The Accidental Billionaires

Just finished reading the brilliant biography of the founding of Facebook "The Accidental Billionaires" by Ben Mezrich. The book cover says "Sex, money, betrayal and the founding of the Facebook". Sex and money are definitely not connected to the founding of the facebook though money is all pervasive connection because of the greed factor. Mark Zukerberg is portrayed as a near genius programmer but with little flair for business. Business ethics and gentlemen's agreement is the basis on which betrayal is suggested. But i guess any business has to be founded on the blood and guts of somebody and it is blood of one person and guts of another. I hope young entrepreneurs or wannabe entrepreneurs do not get ideas on how to found their business upon reading this book. But Indian readers might as well say - "aa ma soo che, aa tho bhadha normal che na bhai!!" Nice narrative style of Mezrich makes for compelling reading. Goodreads 5/5

The $100 Start Up

Just finished reading "$100 start up" by Chris Guillebeau - this guy is a successful serial micro entrepreneur and the book has lots of insights on building a business with very little investment, as low as $100 or even less. All it requires is ideas, a solid product, which people want and which gives value to people. So there should be a want and it should carry value. He takes the reader through the entire process of building a small business with examples from various such micropreneurs who have successfully built their businesses. Its an online world so all it takes is passion with a desire to build business. Some cases are accidental in the sense that people study for one thing, they have passion in another area and it is a cross between choosing a boring day job or pursuing your passion. Highly recommended for would be micro entrepreneurs. Goodreads 3/5

14 Hours - An Insider's Account of the Taj Attack

Just finished reading this book by Ankur Chawla - I had expected a gripping saga of the greatest attack on Indian soil since independence but not totally disappointed. He has tried his best to give a nice narrative account of his experience inside the Taj Mahal Hotel in Colaba, Mumbai and succeeded also to some extent. It is obviously his first attempt at writing a book and being a young hotelier I will give full credit to his composure during the worst travail of his life. There are some genuine attempts at humour and it works very well. Goodreads 3/5

Turbaned Tornado

This book "Turbaned Tornado" is a biography of the famous Indian marathoner who ran a marathon at 100 years, Fauja Singh. The writer Kushwant Singh is not the same famous Indian journalist and writer of the same name. It is a nice narrative of the early life of Fauja Singh, how he travelled to London after the death of his loving wife and started running marathons at the age of 89 when most of us would rather be more comfortable walking with a stick!! Fauja is an indomitable spirit and his farmers' genes help him in becoming a rare sportsman and brand ambassador more famous than sportspersons three or four generations younger than him. His timing of 5.20 hours at the age of 94 is the stuff made of legends. He was denied the Guiness world record for being the oldest marathoner, due to lack of his birth documents.  Fauja Singh is truly a great sportsman of India and reading his biography is very refreshing.  Goodreads 5/5

The Heart of the Dales

The Heart of the Dales is my second sojourn into Gervase Phinn’s affectionate chronicle of life in the Yorkshire Dales, and once again he invites the reader into a world where ordinariness is redeemed by humour, humanity, and quiet grace. Continuing his reminiscences as a school inspector, Phinn peoples his narrative with a gallery of characters both trying and charming—there are the good and the exasperating, but never the truly malign. In Phinn’s universe, it is invariably the children who steal the limelight, disarming authority with their candour and leaving grown-ups gently undone.

The author liberally seasons his prose with Yorkshire dialect, not as a gimmick but as a means of anchoring his stories in place and temperament. The accent lends texture and rhythm, while it is often the least fortunate children who emerge as the quiet heroes of his tales, buoyed by resilience, wit, and an unaffected wisdom. The stories are resolutely feel-good—light-hearted without being frivolous, humane without sentimentality—inflected throughout with that peculiarly British blend of understatement and dry, observational humour. In their evocation of village life and small-scale dramas, they faintly recall R. K. Narayan’s Malgudi stories, where the local becomes universal and the modest acquires moral weight.

At the heart of the book lies Phinn’s professional life as a school inspector, a role that takes him from one tiny village school to another across North Yorkshire. These schools become unlikely theatres for a procession of unforgettable encounters: children whose frank, unvarnished speech punctures adult solemnity; eccentric teachers whose quirks are worn with pride; and the often surreal rituals of educational bureaucracy. The new academic year begins on a discordant note when a disgruntled teacher accuses Phinn of professional failure, precipitating an awkward interview with his formidable new superior, the icily efficient Miss de la Mare. Phinn’s anxious anticipation of reprimand provides fertile ground for his trademark self-deprecating wit.

Matters scarcely improve when the Chief Education Officer assigns him what is blandly described as a “little job”—a euphemism that inevitably involves grappling with the redoubtable Mrs Savage, whose meddlesome persistence has long tested the patience of Phinn and his colleagues. These office skirmishes, rendered with affectionate irony, capture the absurdities of institutional life without ever lapsing into bitterness.

Counterbalancing these professional trials is Phinn’s domestic life, which introduces a gentler, more intimate comedy. Life with his wife, Christine Bentley—a headteacher in her own right—and their infant son is suffused with contentment, though this domestic idyll is humorously unsettled by mysterious and unnerving sounds emanating from the attic. Such moments ground the narrative in recognisable family experience, reminding the reader that even inspectors are not immune to the small dramas of home.

Along the way, Phinn reunites us with a familiar supporting cast: the staff at County Hall, the irrepressibly honest children whose remarks reduce inspectors to helpless laughter, and memorable figures such as Connie, the self-styled “Queen of Clean,” whose presence brings both comic relief and genuine affection. Phinn writes of them all with warmth, never condescension, and an evident pleasure in human idiosyncrasy.

What ultimately distinguishes The Heart of the Dales is the author’s voice—genial, observant, and richly descriptive. His evocations of the Yorkshire landscape and its speech rhythms create a strong sense of place, while the humour arises naturally from character and circumstance. The book’s pleasures lie not in dramatic incident or narrative suspense, but in its finely woven tapestry of people, moments, and memories. It is a charming, restorative read—one that celebrates kindness, community, and the quietly comic business of everyday life. Goodreads 5/5 

The Way Through the Woods

Just finished reading "The Way Through the Woods" by Colin Dexter, my first one of him. It is an Inspector Morse mystery. It is a mystery about a sudden disappearance of a Swedish maiden in England but the case comes to life fully one year after her exit for whatever reasons. Dexter has a different style of writing compared to others such as Agatha Christie, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle etc. in the sense that he keeps on dropping some hints here and there by weaving in and out of the story by juxtaposing with riddles etc. The plot keeps the reader in suspense and I like his interplay with relevant quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I would say that Dexter is a "dexterous" writer in that sense.  Goodreads 3/5

Absolute Power

Clint Eastwood’s Absolute Power (1997) is a tightly wound political thriller that cloaks the familiar mechanics of a crime narrative in a darker, more unsettling meditation on authority, corruption, and the moral evasions practised at the loftiest echelons of the American state. Directed by Eastwood and adapted from David Baldacci’s bestselling novel, the film assembles an imposing cast—Gene Hackman, Ed Harris, Laura Linney, Scott Glenn, and Dennis Haysbert among them—but its gravitas derives less from star power than from its brooding disillusionment. Beneath its surface trappings of suspense lies a sombre inquiry into how truth is warped, weaponised, or quietly interred when it threatens institutional power.

The film opens with Luther Whitney (Eastwood), a veteran jewel thief edging toward the twilight of his illicit vocation. Luther is a relic of a vanishing breed—methodical, disciplined, and governed by a private moral code that sets him apart from vulgar criminality. Estranged from his daughter Kate (Laura Linney), a fiercely principled assistant district attorney, he lives in solitude, sustained by the pride of professional excellence and the stubborn dignity of a man who still believes he is the best at what he does.

His next target is a palatial mansion owned by Walter Sullivan (E.G. Marshall), a billionaire whose political influence is as formidable as his wealth. Anticipating a routine burglary, Luther slips inside and conceals himself in a hidden panic room behind a mirrored wall—only to become an unwilling witness to a far graver transgression.

That night, President Richmond (Gene Hackman) arrives for a clandestine liaison with Sullivan’s young and emotionally fragile wife, Christy (Melora Hardin). What begins as consensual intimacy metastasises into brutality when Christy resists the President’s increasingly coercive advances. In a moment of terror and desperation, she stabs him with a letter opener—an injury medically minor yet politically cataclysmic.

The Secret Service responds with chilling efficiency. Confronted with the unthinkable prospect of scandal, they opt for expedience over justice. Christy is summarily executed, and the crime scene meticulously reconfigured to resemble a burglary gone wrong. From his hidden vantage point, Luther watches in stunned silence as murder is rationalised, sanitised, and sealed by the imperatives of power.

In his escape, Luther commits a seemingly trivial error—dropping a piece of jewellery that unwittingly ties him to the scene. The implications are immediate and lethal. The Secret Service realises a witness may exist, and Luther is abruptly transformed into the most dangerous man in America: a petty thief burdened with an intolerable truth.

Assigned to the case is Detective Seth Frank (Ed Harris), a weary but uncorrupted homicide investigator whose instinctive decency places him at odds with the official narrative. As he probes deeper, fissures appear—evidence that refuses to conform, answers that ring hollow. Frank’s quiet integrity becomes a form of resistance, though one dwarfed by the colossal machinery arrayed against him.

Kate Whitney, unaware of her father’s involvement, is drawn into the prosecution’s effort to attribute the crime to the elusive burglar. The film’s emotional stakes intensify as Luther confronts an agonising dilemma: expose the truth and imperil his daughter’s career—and perhaps her life—or retreat into silence and complicity.

The ensuing pursuit, led by the icily efficient Secret Service operative Bill Burton (Scott Glenn), unfolds as a deadly game of cat and mouse. Yet Absolute Power distinguishes itself from conventional thrillers by locating its menace not in criminal syndicates or rogue assassins, but in the legitimised violence of the state—surveillance, intimidation, and lethal force cloaked in patriotic necessity.

The title is no mere flourish. Absolute Power articulates its central thesis with uncompromising clarity: authority unchecked corrodes character. Hackman’s President is no pantomime villain, but a plausible embodiment of entitlement metastasised into moral vacancy. His corruption, the film implies, is not an anomaly but a structural inevitability of power unanswerable to consequence.

Paradoxically, the film’s moral centre is its criminal. Luther Whitney, for all his transgressions, operates within limits—his crimes are personal, contained, almost artisanal. By contrast, the crimes committed in the corridors of power are systemic, expansive, and fatal. Eastwood repeatedly interrogates the uneasy divergence between legality and morality, offering no consoling resolutions.

The fraught relationship between Luther and Kate lends the narrative its emotional ballast. Their ideological opposition—thief versus prosecutor—mirrors the film’s broader dialectic between truth and authority. Laura Linney invests Kate with intelligence and restraint, ensuring she transcends mere narrative utility.

Eastwood’s performance is characteristically restrained, suffused with weariness, dignity, and quiet defiance. Age, far from diminishing him, enhances the role’s credibility. Hackman is chillingly persuasive as a President whose charm masks volatility and emptiness. Ed Harris emerges as the film’s ethical lodestar, while Scott Glenn’s grimly loyal enforcer embodies the banality of institutional ruthlessness.

As a director, Eastwood favours classical understatement—measured pacing, clean compositions, and psychological tension over spectacle. Washington, D.C. is rendered not as a monument to democracy, but as a citadel of secrets, its corridors echoing with unspoken compromises.

Ultimately, Absolute Power transcends its genre trappings to become a bleak reflection on the fragility of justice in the face of entrenched authority. Though it adheres to familiar thriller conventions, its moral seriousness and thematic resonance elevate it well above routine suspense. The film closes on a question that lingers uncomfortably: when those entrusted with power become the gravest criminals, who remains to hold them to account? Disturbingly prescient, Absolute Power endures as both gripping cinema and a cautionary parable.

Marathon Man

"Marathon Man" is by Bill Rodgers otherwise known as Boston Billy who won the Boston and New York Marathons 4 times each in the late 70s. Boston Billy has personally autographed this book which was given to my dear friend Bhasker Desai who had ran at this year i.e. 2013 Boston Marathon. Bhasker finished the race and was in the medical tent when the bomb blast took place.

It is a very enchanting and enthralling book with a throbbing narrative in collaboration with Mathew Shepatin. Basically it is an account of his early life and his Boston marathon experience of 1975. The narrative is very interesting in the sense that each chapter starts with his Boston 1975 progress during the race and the later part of the chapter devotes to flashback to his early life as a college student, running with Amby Burfoot who is his original inspiration, his "conscientious objector" status during the Vietnam war, his degree at special education, struggle at getting a job etc. He was a natural born runner with a great capacity for hard work and a body which could take any amount of hard work with very little injuries. The realisation that he could be a top notch marathon runner came to him only during a race with Amby Burfoot in which he raced alongside the great Amby for about 15 miles of a 20 mile race. The seeds of inspiration which Amby sowed in him made him take up competitive racing including marathons. Boston Billy alongwith Frank Shorter, Amby Burfoot and Jeff Galloway were the pioneers of long distance running first in America which then spread to other cities in the world which has since then grown exponentially. His latter attempts at Montreal Olympics of 1976 and thereafter founding a successful running business alongwith his college buddies makes for a good story. It is an excellent book, very inspirational, very nice story of an easy going hardworking American who loves running dearly. Highly recommended for anybody into long distance running. Goodreads 5/5

The Sleeping Doll

Jeffery Deaver’s The Sleeping Doll (2007) is a taut, cerebral thriller that signals a deft and invigorating expansion of the Lincoln Rhyme universe by shifting the narrative fulcrum to Katherine Dance, a specialist in kinesics—the forensic study of body language. While the novel bears all the familiar hallmarks of Deaver’s craftsmanship—intricate plotting, audacious misdirection, and a tempo that rarely allows the reader to breathe—it also ventures into deeper psychological terrain, distinguishing itself even within the author’s formidable oeuvre.

At its thematic heart, The Sleeping Doll is a chilling meditation on control: how it is asserted, how it insinuates itself into vulnerable minds, how it is resisted, and how, in the end, it may be subverted. It is also a study in the perilous seductions of charismatic evil, that most insidious of threats, which conquers not through force but through persuasion.

The novel opens with the long-awaited capture of Daniel Pell, a notorious cult leader and mass murderer believed to be responsible for the deaths of dozens of followers years earlier. Pell, who fashioned himself as a messianic redeemer, was infamous for preying upon the emotionally fragile—particularly women—whom he coaxed into relinquishing their identities, autonomy, and ultimately their lives. For years, he has existed as a near-mythic figure, a whispered horror story rather than a man in custody. His arrest, following a dramatic pursuit in rural California, promises closure. It delivers anything but.

The case is assigned to Katherine Dance of the California Bureau of Investigation, a professional whose expertise extends beyond conventional investigative technique. Dance is a master of kinesics, trained to read the involuntary micro-expressions, postures, and physical cues that betray deception. In theory, she is the ideal adversary for a man whose greatest weapon has always been manipulation.

Yet from the moment Pell enters the interrogation room, it becomes clear that imprisonment has done little to blunt his influence. He is composed, courteous, even disarmingly charming. He offers no confession—only fragments of truth, strategic omissions, and eloquent silences. Dance quickly realises that Pell is not merely responding to questions; he is choreographing an elaborate performance, one in which every gesture is deliberate and every pause a provocation.

As Dance delves into Pell’s criminal history, she uncovers the chilling inner workings of his cult. Followers were systematically stripped of independent thought through psychological conditioning, ritualised obedience, and carefully cultivated fear, until they functioned less as individuals than as extensions of Pell’s will. Many of the murders attributed to him were likely carried out by devotees acting under his influence, raising profoundly unsettling legal and moral questions about agency, guilt, and responsibility.

Pell has already been convicted for the massacre of the wealthy Croyton family, leaving only a young girl alive—concealed behind a collection of dolls, an image that lends the novel its unsettling title. Despite the ominous suggestion of the cover, The Sleeping Doll resists the trappings of horror, preferring psychological menace to visceral shock. When Pell engineers a transfer to another facility under the pretext of further interrogation—and subsequently escapes—the narrative accelerates into a gripping cat-and-mouse pursuit, one marked by escalating tension and intellectual brinkmanship.

Running parallel to the investigation is Dance’s own private world. A single mother, she must navigate the emotional claims of her children while working in a profession that demands relentless exposure to humanity’s darkest impulses. Her struggle to remain emotionally present at home while maintaining professional detachment at work provides a humane counterbalance to Pell’s icy manipulations. It also renders her vulnerable.

Pell, ever perceptive and predatory, senses these fault lines. During their interviews, he probes Dance’s insecurities with unsettling precision, transforming their exchanges into psychological duels as fraught and dangerous as any physical confrontation. These scenes, rich in subtext and tension, represent some of the novel’s most compelling writing.

True to Deaver’s reputation, The Sleeping Doll is replete with twists that refuse complacency. Just as the narrative appears to be converging on a familiar resolution, fresh revelations emerge—about Pell’s ultimate objectives, the residual reach of his influence, and the identities of those who remain disturbingly loyal to him. Through Dance’s kinesic expertise, Deaver also interrogates the limitations of truth-detection itself. Body language can illuminate deception, but it can also deceive—particularly when the subject understands the rules of the game as intimately as the investigator.

In the final reckoning, The Sleeping Doll stands as one of Deaver’s most accomplished thrillers: a work that marries procedural realism with psychological sophistication. Anchored by a formidable and convincingly human heroine, and animated by a villain who is terrifying precisely because he is plausible, the novel is both suspenseful and intellectually provocative. With its intricate plotting, razor-sharp dialogue, and unrelenting tension, it firmly establishes Katherine Dance as one of Deaver’s most compelling protagonists—and reminds us that the most frightening monsters are often those who never need to raise their voices.

Children of the Thunder

Just got around to finish this book "Children of the Thunder" by John Brunner. It is a science fiction book and John Brunner takes a long time to get around to the story. It is about some kids who commit juvenile crime but of such proportions as to shock even the adult mind, crimes, such as running a prostitution racket, protection racket, murder etc. All these kids are ostensibly born out of surrogacy and there are doubts that all these kids might probably be from one donor. First there is an assumption of mind control in the sense that these kids have some kind of psychic power where they can read people's minds and they are brilliant but in a devious way. In between there are newspaper reports of some kind of catastrophe after another taking place somewhere in the world and there is also mention of a General Thrower who is a probably a menace to the society. Peter Levin is a science fiction writer who makes a living by digging up stories on calamities and Dr. Claudia is a science researcher from US who has developed the instinct that there is something violently wrong with these kids and could there be a connection between. Brunner has attempted to carve out a plausible story but it all ends up in one big disappointment, hence the 1 star.

Ultramarathon Man - Confessions of an All-Night Runner

Ultramarathon Man - Confessions of an All-Night Runner by Dean Karnazes is an absorbing and overwhelming story of his early athletic prowess in schools, loss of his sister to an accident, his subsequent forays away from running for 15 years, his rediscovery of running to running marathons, ultra marathons, crazy distances, unheard of before and impossible feats like running the South Pole marathon, running 199 miles non stop, etc. His heroic attempt at running the Western States 100 miler and Badwater Ultramarathon and failing the first time has been poignantly told. A nice inspirational story with dollops of quotable quotes for keeping in one's mirror or desktop. The paperback edition has given details of his diet, training, nutrition, strategy etc. so that becomes useful for people running ultra marathons. Dean has that rare gene which allows him to run continuously non stop unlike us mortals. He has also discovered the art of sleeping while on the run, albeit for  a few seconds. Dean has also run the 50 marathons in 50 states of the United States in 50 consecutive days, finishing the 50th day by running the NYC marathon. Goodreads 5/5 

Going Crazy

"Going Crazy" by Otto Friedrich is a kind of biography or a history of insanity or madness through the ages. Otto does a good job in keeping the narrative flowing throughout the pages with first hand accounts by many patients. Apart from celebrated cases he has also dwelt on the ordinary people's lives disrupted by what he calls as "craziness" - by all accounts all of us are somewhat crazy at some times or other - it only varies by degrees, but while majority are able to keep their thoughts clear there are many who lose control of their minds. He has also written about the cures which in medieval times ranged from cruelty itself like chaining the patients to drugs, therapies etc. It was surprising to read that so many celebrated people had problems in their lives. I would highly recommend this book to those interested in different genres like non-fiction, biographies etc. Rating 5/5

The Blood-Dimmed Tide

John Madden has laid down his badge, retired from the rigours of Scotland Yard to the pastoral tranquillity of a rural English home, content at last with the gentle consolations of domesticity. Yet repose proves fleeting. One evening, while returning with his wife, Dr. Helen Madden, he stumbles upon a horror carefully concealed: the body of a young girl, her face grotesquely mutilated, the unmistakable signs of sexual violation chillingly evident.

The old instincts stir. Against his wife’s earnest objections, Madden is inexorably drawn back into the abyss he thought he had left behind. Soon, another body surfaces—eerily similar in its desecration, though the girl’s disappearance had been reported nearly three years earlier. Then comes another. And another. What begins as a local investigation soon overwhelms the capacities of rural policing and is absorbed once more into the formidable machinery of Scotland Yard. Slowly, painstakingly, the fragments coalesce into a grim pattern: a series of crimes perpetrated by a methodical psychopath, each victim a young girl, each crime marked by rape, post-mortem mutilation, and, in some cases, acts of violence even beyond death.

The disturbing three-year hiatus between murders leads investigators to a chilling hypothesis—that the killer may have been absent from the country during that interval. The narrative unfolds against the fraught years between 1926 and 1929, a Europe already trembling under the first ominous reverberations of Nazism. While the case acquires international dimensions, Rennie Airth wisely resists allowing geopolitics to eclipse the crime itself. The novel advances with deliberation rather than velocity, privileging procedural authenticity and psychological insight over sensational contrivance.

Madden emerges as a figure of quiet gravity—a detective guided as much by moral conviction as by analytical acuity. Retirement has not dulled his intellect, nor has time blunted his compassion for the violated and voiceless. Around him gathers a wide-ranging cast: village constables, seasoned Yard men, and wary German officials. Some appear initially as archetypes—reserved, stiff, inscrutable—but Airth gradually infuses them with depth, nuance, and persuasive individuality.

What distinguishes The Blood-Dimmed Tide is its ability to balance the intimate with the expansive. At its heart lies a profoundly human inquiry into crimes that rupture the serene illusion of rural life. Yet hovering above is a larger unease: the sense that the same brutal impulses at work in these murders are stirring on a continental scale, poised to reshape societies and nations alike.

A sombre moral current runs throughout the novel. Characters are repeatedly confronted with the fragility of innocence and the inexorable erosion of moral certainties—an anxiety encapsulated in the title itself, which evokes a world darkening under the tide of violence. Airth conjures 1930s England with evocative precision, capturing the uneasy calm before the storm of history breaks. Madden, along with the supporting cast, feels fully realised—flawed, fearful, principled, and profoundly human.

The Blood-Dimmed Tide stands as a richly textured historical mystery: atmospheric, intellectually satisfying, and deeply rooted in character, offering the cerebral pleasures of classic detective fiction while gesturing toward the darker currents of its age. Goodreads 4/5  

The Fate of a Man and Early Stories

The Fate of a Man by Mikhail Sholokov, the Nobel Prize winner for literature in 1965 and six other short stories. All the stories are gut wrenching heart rending tales of sorrow, grieving, loss of family, sufferings due to the turmoil in Soviet Russia in the early part of the last century primarily the fight of the Cossacks against the then newly emerging Red Army. At several times during reading the stories, I had to take a break because it became extremely difficult to continue reading. The love of a father towards the children is the same whether it is in communist society or capitalist society and these were also evident in "Fathers and Sons" by Ivan Turgenev. Sholokov wrote "And Quiet Flows the Don" for which he was given the Nobel Prize. "The Fate of a Man" is another masterpiece from Sholokov.

Dangerous Curves

Picked up a book called "Dangerous Curves" by Peter Cheyney on a seconds books sale somewhere in Bombay, either because it was way too cheap or the it looked sorta good to read. Got down to reading it last week and was pleasantly surprised to read it - a riveting fast moving fiction with mystery suspense thrown in galore. Then I researched Peter Cheyney on the internet because i have never heard of this guy, was surprised to learn that he belonged to another era altogether, having been born in 1896 and died in 1951, relatively young just like Raymond Chandler another of my favorite. In the first few pages itself I discovered another of my favorite author James Hadley Chase in his writing. Chase who wrote many potboilers and wrote about the underdogs of the society has beautiful flowing narrative to his writing. This book is a Slim Callaghan mystery - that is the name of the investigator who is given the job of investigating the wayward stepson of a vivacious Thorla Riverton who is 30 years younger to her husband and whose husband is dying of complications from old age. Slim Callaghan has obviously a very disruptive style of operating which is not appreciated by Thorla Riverton and sparks fly between the two, she being attractive. Slim Callaghan being the quintessential fictional detective is able to comprehend the hidden facts as well as portend the future shape of things to come. One thing i did not like about Slim Callaghan is his excessive smoking and drinking, but what the hell, this book was written in 1939 when there were more worldly matters to be concerned than the post modern James Bondish type of fit action heroes. From this Wikipeadia entry here it seems Peter Cheyney lived the life of his fictional protagonists and died young having penned 35 novels and 150 short stories. This book is "out of print" and therefore a rare copy. Books such as these are rare to come by. Highly recommended reading for fiction fans. Goodreads 5/5

Havana Bay

Martin Cruz Smith is a first timer for me and I did not realise that he had written Gorky Park which was made into a movie a few years ago. Arcady Renko is a humourless Russian investigator sent to Havana to investigate the death of another little known Russian spy in a water accident. The book begins very slowly and takes even more slowness to get into the characters of the plot. There are few police people and a Cuban female investigator Ofelia all of whom don't want to investigate the Russian's death. There is a liberal sprinkling of the mistrust between Cuba and Russia in the book a kind of Cuban hate of Russia for leaving them in a lurch and sort of leaving them as holding the last communist post in the world. The plot gets bogged down repeatedly in the Cuban Russian interplay of emotions which is not dispelled despite a few more murders taking place. Smith has done a good job in slowly unfolding the plot to its conclusion in the Havana Bay but I thought the ending was a bit too abrupt. He should have allowed the emotions between Arcady and Ofelia to be taken to a logical conclusion. This was supposedly Arcady's fourth book in the series, it would be interesting to read his earlier works on Arcady and also his later works. Goodreads 4/5

The Accidental Prime Minister

The Accidental Prime Minister is a kind of unofficial biography of the greatest Prime Minister that India could have had but for his inherent shyness and introvertedness and the machinations of the Congress party loyalists close to the Family to ensure that no credit goes to the man or to anybody who is not from the Family. It is a strong and damning indictment of the Family, the psychopancy  of the Congress party leaders, the egotism of some of its stalwarts who could not see eye to eye with the PM, the egotripism of some senior bureacrats.  This man with impeccable credentials, distinguished educational background and rich experience could have been the greatest Prime Minister that India ever had because he had the vision for India but he was deliberately downplayed and not allowed freedom to do things his way. The book is absolutely brutal in its treatment of the political establishment especially that of the Ruling party and the Left leaders during the India US nuclear deal. Sanjaya Baru has spoken his heart of the person with whom he was closely associated during his tenure. After reading this book, one get's pure admiration for the man who has led India for the last 10 years. Highly recommended reading. Rating 5/5

Journey Down Melody Lane

"Down Melody Lane" written by Raju Bharatan a music writer is a kind of autobiography of Indian Hindi playback film music from mid 50s to mid 80s. Raju is a lucky chap who has had a ringside view of all the music directors, composers &singers from the late 40s onwards and on intimate terms with most of them. He has sat with, talked to, listened to compositions, the recordings, the practice sessions and in turn the music idols have disclosed much details to Raju in the process. This book looks at the music rivalries, jealousies, camps, but also gives an insight into the most happening events surrounding the hindi film music during this era which was undoubtedly the golden era of music. The narrative is quite horrible, but in the end it is a most satisfying book because then you are reading about your idols like Naushad, C. Ramachandra, S.D. Burman, R.D. Burman,  Mohd Rafi, Kishore Kumar, Hemant Kumar, Talat Mahmood, Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosle, Mahendra Kapoor, Mukesh etc. etc.

Unscathed

Unscathed is a stark and absorbing work of lived history—a military memoir in which Major Phil Ashby, former officer of the Royal Marines, chronicles his service as a United Nations military observer in Sierra Leone in the fateful year 2000. Set against the savagery of one of West Africa’s most brutal civil wars, the book traces his journey before, during and after a period of extreme peril, culminating in a nerve-shredding escape from rebel captivity and a primal struggle for survival in the jungle’s unforgiving embrace.

Ashby’s martial pedigree is itself remarkable. Enlisting in the Royal Marines while still in his teens, he was forged in the crucible of elite training, mastering mountain, Arctic and jungle warfare alike. These experiences—arduous, exacting, and often perilous—are not paraded for effect but woven into the narrative as the quiet foundations of the resilience that would later be tested to its limits.

The memoir unfolds with a measured, chronological grace. Ashby begins by reflecting on his formative years, his baptism into the Royal Marines, and a series of adventurous exploits that include demanding mountaineering challenges and polar expeditions. Far from indulgent digression, this opening establishes the mental discipline and physical endurance that underpin his conduct in crisis.

The narrative then pivots to his deployment with the United Nations peacekeeping mission. Ashby recounts taut encounters with the Revolutionary United Front (RUF), the brittle promise of a ceasefire, and its swift, bloody collapse. With unsparing clarity, the book plunges the reader into the bewildering chaos of a conflict zone seldom examined with such immediacy and precision.

Its most arresting passages describe the moment when Ashby and three fellow officers find themselves effectively cornered—unarmed, outnumbered, and staring down the prospect of certain death. The decision to flee, rather than await a rescue that might never come, forms the memoir’s dramatic core. Their escape through hostile jungle terrain is not a tale of cinematic heroics but of endurance, calculation, and the thin margin between life and annihilation.

Ashby’s prose is admirably restrained. He resists the temptations of machismo and melodrama, favouring instead a lucid, unsentimental account of fear, fatigue and instinct. Personal reflection is deftly balanced with tactical insight, rendering the narrative accessible not only to military enthusiasts but to any reader interested in the human condition under extreme duress.

His greatest strength as a narrator lies in his portrayal of decision-making under intolerable pressure. The choice to escape is presented not as bravado but as a grim arithmetic of survival—a reasoned gamble between two lethal alternatives. In doing so, Ashby restores dignity to uncertainty itself.

Notably, the memoir avoids the easy refuge of caricature. Rebel fighters are not flattened into mere embodiments of evil; they emerge instead as fractured individuals, themselves shaped and scarred by the violence of a protracted war. This moral complexity deepens the narrative, rescuing it from the simplicity of good-versus-evil tropes.

At a broader level, Unscathed offers a sobering meditation on the realities of UN peacekeeping, particularly when mandates are constricted and violence erupts without warning. Ashby’s experiences invite reflection on the limits of international intervention and the human cost borne by those placed at the fault lines of policy and conflict.

Unscathed: Escape from Sierra Leone stands as a compelling and thoughtful contribution to the canon of war memoirs—distinguished by its authenticity, its unflinching portrayal of survival under dire circumstances, and its humane insight into the tangled complexities of peacekeeping and civil war.