Unfurling poppies
Above the snow
Look like
Little crimson blood stains
As though
A dying man
Had walked through
The white fields.
They sway amidst the ice
Tainting the air
With the
Fragrance
Of rich, dark opium,
Like the callings of
Forbidden secrets.
Like Goddesses that walk
Through fields
Of Asphodel
To meet a lover,
Smoking cigars
Rolled of poppy petals
And filled with opium seeds.
They’ll lie together
Blowing back smoke
On a scarlet bed
Stained with
Wine
And virginal blood,
Covered
With crushed poppies
Until they fall asleep
To a lullaby
Sung to the wind
On a field of snow
That looks like it
Bleeds
Eternally.
Wishes On The Wind
It feels warm
Like a solstice eve
Where the moon hangs low
Smiling like
Cheshire
From Wonderland.
There’s a tepid air
Of summer yet to come
Where stars sing spells
That require
The roar of a lion
Before the hunt,
The rare white strand
On the back
Of an auburn fox
And a vial
Of heady desire
Stirred with
The blood of things
That will never come to be.
A sultry breeze
Has brushed
The nape of my neck
In a kiss
Of magic
Like the dew that glistens
On a solstice morning
When I might
Blow a wish
To the wind
That rest on the petals
Of enchanted dandelions.
Waltz With Me
The only way
To ask for a dance
Is with flowers.
They remind me
Of ballgowns
As they bloom,
They droop
With the heavy weight
Of the petals
And sweep the ground
In the beat of
A waltz.
They sway in the
Arms of the breeze
To a triplicate of beats,
The stalks dipping
In graceful arcs
Like the arch
Of a ladies back
As she is swept across
Marble tiles
Glowing under
Crystal chandeliers.
So when you present me
With a corsage of asters
Like rosy pink pearls
Pressing their wet petals
Against my skin,
And wear an orchid
In your lapel,
I might ask
‘Won’t you waltz with me?’
In memorial – Marigolds
I didn’t know that flowers
Might whisper different
Sweet nothings
To those around them.
That the pale petals of
Marigold,
Would warm
The chill in one’s veins
When they drink
The iced wine
Of grief,
Tinting memories
In the gold
Of remembrance,
And help
To thaw
October mornings
In the midst of a souls winter.
While at the same time,
Adorning the wrists
Of a bride.
The sunny yellow
Reminiscent of turmeric
Smeared on the skin
For vitality,
And darkness
In the henna
Painted on her palms,
Caressing the slender bones
With a kiss of
Anticipation
For a new spring.
A Bouquet of Disappointments
There’s a loveliness
To wanting,
It seeps through skin
And infuses blood
With a thundering rush
Like the heady thrill
Of amber tinted
Honeyed alcohol.
It runs and trills
In an ancient song
Of longings
And desires
Forsaken and watered
By stories of the old.
The tears of a Goddess
Mingle with the spilt blood
Of a mortal lover
Painting petals with pearl
And rubies.
The scratches on the back
Of a prince
As he made love
To a courtesan
Draped in nothing
But fragrant jasmine
And large blooms
Of camellias.
And as opals turn to dust
And flowers begin to decay
The loveliness of longing
Turn to disappointments
That will water
A discarded
Bouquet
That you left me
Last week.
Floral Secrets
Last night I watched the moonlight
Illuminate the blossoming flowers at my doorstep.
Silver light rained upon
Dark crimson roses, like red wine,
That blew sultry kisses
Which brushed my cheek and the pulse at my throat.
Unfurled the deep gold petals
Of the sunflowers
Who promptly fell back asleep
Upon seeing the stars.
The honeysuckle
That drank in the sleeping world
As it clung to the branches and walls,
Releasing its sweet fragrance
To perfume the night.
And the amaryllis
That shied away from the cloying scent,
Standing tall and pushing out
Its small red petals.
Calling out to all who watched
To look only at her,
Bosom stuck out in boastful pride.
I watch them talk
In the language known only to the flowers
And the soil in which they spread their roots
Like spilt ice wine or a hot tea.
They grow at my feet and bloom in my hands
And carry the messages I have kissed into their petals
Like secrets
Only they and I, will whisper.
Club You to Death – A Review
I am not a mystery reader. The genre is, in general, unappealing to me. There are three reasons for this. The first, that many crime stories once finished, leave me with a sense of unease and paranoia. Every creak outside at night becomes a murderer scaling my trellis. Secondly, I don’t do well with suspense. I need to know who the killer is at the beginning and then enjoy the details coming together after that. I’m that person who reads the plot for every movie before I actually watch it. And finally, an old wound festers from when I attended Sanawar School’s Mystery Lit Fest and read nothing but Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie and managed to nab every prize except for first. But this is Anuja Chauhan. And an ARC no less! I’ll be honest, she could write a note to her local doodhwaala and I’d pay good money to read it. So I did. And I absolutely adored it. This review will be spoiler-free till 5th March when I plan on updating my thoughts more fully.
‘Club You To Death’ is set in a very posh old club based in Delhi from the Brit days in India and follows handsome Akash Dogra, hip and happening lawyer, socialite Bambi Todi and surprisingly an ACP Bhavani Singh from Dilli’s own police force as they try to solve the case of a murdered gym instructor using a mysterious drug on club premises. Old rivalries within Delhi’s elite come to the forefront of the investigation, an investigation filled with sexy, threatening songs and lots of chaos.
Whenever I read Agatha Christie I’d usually guess the murderer (and end up with the correct answer). I was sure by the halfway mark I’d know who it was. I had promised myself that this was a book I wouldn’t ruin for myself. And so when I reached the fifty per cent mark I was ashamed to admit that I had no idea who the killer was. At any rate, I threw a wild guess to the wind and stuck with it till the end and realised not only was I wrong but I was so wrong I hadn’t even pieced together the details of what happened. The entire plot had me engrossed from 6 pm when I started reading to 1 am, lurching up from my bed towards the tail end to try and grasp the enormity of the plot that had been spun. The thought process behind the entire crime that the book surrounds is magnificent. Complex and brilliant. It’s a testament to Anuja Chauhan’s range that she can write every single genre. Romance, politics, historical fiction, legal dispute and now crime fiction. And she writes it so well.
I’d say that while the romance aspect is a bit light in this book as compared to her others, the book is still enjoyable because of how amazing the mystery is. Kashi and Bambi play a far smaller role than the real hero, ACP Bhavani, who takes over the entire novel with his quiet interrogations and clever way of niggling information out of everyone involved to get to the bottom of the grisly murder. He’s a brilliant character and I really liked reading him as the protagonist. I was a bit apprehensive about reading about a police officer but Anuja Chauhan continues to use her blend of humour and blatant forwardness to bring forth the reality that haunts India’s every corner without taking away from the plot. But you can tell that her writing portrays a genuine picture of how the country fares today, it’s being political using fiction and humour and it’s done well. That’s something I love about her books, she makes a statement, it’s always subtle, barely noticeable and yet if you pick up on it, you’ll realize how genuine and real and funny her writing is. The book itself is hilarious. With her traditional blend of Hindi gaalis that are peppered through the book and hiding jokes within the sarcasm of her characters, the novel had me laughing out loud a number of times. The characters themselves were an accurate representations of Delhi’s social elites who hang out in their old high school groups and women in their fifties who make money off their friends using strange business ventures. Club Tambola and Zumba class in fancy tights and hiding away children who are less than satisfactory because log kya kehenge. Backstabbing and the occasional throw out of ‘Do you know who my father is?’ by characters who are Bollywood’s Draco Malfoy. And the realism perhaps makes it funnier. Parts of the mystery were chilling, but not so horrifying that I felt uneasy by the time I was done.
‘mukki’s voice rises to a thin nasal scream “you will sue me? you will sue me? you will sue me?”
“it’s not a talaaq you know” kashi drawls, turning to face him. “you don’t have to repeat it three tim-“‘
~ Anuja Chauhan
I can’t really give away too much, lest I spoil the plot for anyone reading, but all I’ll say is that while I may never read another mystery book again, I wouldn’t mind revisiting ‘Club You To Death’ because it was in all senses of the genre, a perfect whodunnit.
Switzerland Must See’s!
In the summer of 2018, I decided my mother and I would embark on a girls trip since I had just finished my senior year of high school. We were to go on our very own Gilmore Girls-esque adventure. Be spontaneous and go and swim in the shimmering waters of the Amalfi Coast or safari through the Serengeti. But usually, that kind of thing takes planning and with the short amount of time we had, to plan and then actually leave we couldn’t find anything that would have fantastic weather in the steaming month of June. So I googled countries that would be cooler than a Delhi summer and chanced upon Switzerland. And so we jet off to one of the world’s loveliest countries.
Upon landing at Zurich, we took a train straight from Zurich airport to the quaint little town of Luzern. Home to the famed Chapel Bridge, the river cuts through the town and mountains loom overhead. I felt very much like Heidi in the Alps! The Chapel Bridge has hidden frescoes and instillations, the famous Stone Lion lounges in a drowsy stupor under biting cold sunshine. The streets are quaint filled with hydrangeas on arched trellises and hidden stone stairways and moonlit lakes.
While Luzern itself does have much to do, the Chapel Bridge, the Stone Lion, shopping, restaurants with fondue served breakfast, lunch and dinner, the best part about the town is it’s proximity to some very beautiful sights. My mother and I went to three of these places.
Our very first trip was to the top of Mount Pilatus. We had to take a ferry to get to the base of the peak which overlooks the city. The colour of the water itself is a sight to behold, it’s almost unrealistic, like the Swiss might have tiled their water bodies in jewel-toned blues.
To get to the top of Pilatus, Ma and I hopped onto the cable cars and enjoyed the view. Pilatus isn’t one that’s covered completely in snow. It’s very storybookish. The grass climbs up the side of the mountains and there are cottages and cows with large bells strung around the necks. Wildflowers grow all around and as you go higher they disappear into pine trees. There are a few patches of snow glistening a dirty white. There’s a small cafe at the top and a viewing station where one can overlook Lake Luzern and then there’s the trail with hundreds of different flowers that have been marked out for tourists to see. We got about halfway and then the trail got thinner and thinner and Ma insisted we stop, she would be fine, she claimed, but she didn’t trust that with my clumsiness I wouldn’t just fall over the side. I think the best part of the trip up the mountain is that you can walk back down to certain stations, and we actually got to toboggan down the mountain.
Tobogganing while fun requires skill and some carefreeness. I happened to possess neither. So I got on the little red chair that would take me skidding down the mountain. A family of three followed and behind them was Ma. I would go slowly, I told myself and in doing so I ended up stuck halfway down. And behind me so was the family of three. And behind them my mother. In vain I tried to get the toboggan going and while the family cheered me on with kind, soft-spoken. ‘You can do it!”s behind them I could hear Ma, yelling, “Chalo! You’re holding up traffic Zoe!” It was a long way down. When we got to the bottom we climbed back up so Ma could go back down whizzing at the speed she had wanted to. I do fear, that my mother is far cooler than me.
It’s always better to do a trip without booking too many tours. Unless you have verified recommendations I would always prefer travelling without booking guides and tours. The next morning in Luzern allowed Ma and me the freedom of choosing what to do taking in account the weather and what we had to wear and where we wanted to eat. If a part of your time is already accounted for, it’s much tougher to plan out the rest of the day according to what you want to see most. If you really need a guided tour for something, book it when you actually get to the location. Ma and I chose Aare Gorge.
The gorge lies near the town of Meiringen. It’s a small little village, the slick walls of the gorge surround it and the clean air smells fresh and silty, as the Aare River carves through the cliffs. It’s a small walk, but it’s slippery and narrow and we stopped to take pictures of the silty, green water and the clear waterfalls that spring up in between. It’s definitely worth the visit to see how extensively the river has cut into the gorge.
Meiringen itself is a beautiful town. It’s covered in flowers, and the blooms are bigger than my hand. We also got to see Reichenbach falls which you can also get to from Meiringen. In literature Sherlock and Moriarty actually faced off at Reichenbach Falls, and having studied it just the year before, I was quite excited at being able to see it. We met a lovely little dog who graces the funicular up the Falls and the spray from the force of the water kept us off at quite a distance, but the sight was still worth the visit.
Once we were back in Luzern, Ma and I both bought shoes for the next day, because we were to head up to the snowy peaks of Mount Titlis.
When you go to Switzerland people choose to do one of two peaks in the Alps. Some choose Titlis, and some choose the windier peak of Jungfrau near Interlaken. I am one of those lucky people who have done both. I did Titlis on this special mother-daughter trip and we did Jungfrau as a family when I was six. We had gotten off to the top of Jungfrau Summit and I remember my sister and uncle and band of cousins had already walked out onto the summit. I was once again with Ma and while she was putting on her gloves, I being the adventurous child that I am wandered out of the doors onto the summit, with no mountaineering equipment. The wind decided to kick in right then and I almost flew off the summit, clinging to the thinnest rope in the existence of mankind, until another lady with an ice axe came and grabbed onto me till Ma could get to me. Suffice to say as we got to Titlis, Ma was visibly ready to climb the mountain with proper mountain trekking shoes and a tight grip on my hand when we stepped out on to the ice.
Titlis in stark contrast to Pilatus is an icy wonderland. The temperature drops to below zero degrees and the snow is soft against the sleets of ice that have formed at the peak. The view is definitely worth the weather as are the characters you see there. People wearing crop tops and draping saris for Bollywoodesque photoshoots, old women wearing slippers with socks while walking on slippery ice. There’s actually a life-sized cut out of Shah Rukh and Kajol from DDLJ at the top. The view is fantastic and lots of people go skiing down the mountain rather than taking the cable car down.
Luzern has since become one of my favourite places to visit, it’s truly magical
Restaurants to eat at in Luzern: The Original Fondue House Luzern, Korea Town Luzern, Pfistern
Bonpomeriggio from sunny sunny Lugano! Like a little slice of Italy in Switzerland, sitting on the edge of Lake Lugano, just bordering Italy, this small town is beautiful, there is lovely pizza sprinkled with fragrant basil and red boats on the lake with the Prealps looming overhead, blocking out the golden sun.
When we arrived, we left the hotel almost at once because Ma and I only planned on being in Lugano for a day. So we headed out from the Hotel Splendide Royal and walked in balmy Lugano air, looking at the lovely teal water.
The first place we stopped by was the Church of Santa Maria Degli Angeli. Ma had been quite excited to see the church because it held a fresco from the Renaissance. The Renaissance actually began in Italy and the Chiesa Santa Maria was started and finished during that Golden Age. The main attraction of the Chiesa is the huge fresco that greets you the moment you enter. It’s the fresco of the Passion and Crucifixion of Christ, which has been considered to be a trademark example of the Renaissance in Switzerland. But this isn’t the only fresco and the Chiesa has multiple. If you go to Lugano, you must visit the Chiesa, it’s a preservation of the age of enlightenment through a single monument filled with art.
Lugano curves around its namesake lake (or is the town named for the lake?) in a crescent sort of shape. While walking around the coast Ma and I spotted a part of the harbour docked with little red pedalling boats, and I pulled her along so we might try them. We paid the small fee, got into the boat, Ma at the wheel and I on the passenger’s side and off we went. It took us a few minutes to figure out how to steer and then we sped off into the middle of the lake. And by sped off I meant we made our way to the centre at a snails speed. Pedalling a piccolo pedalo, as the little red boats are called, is not easy. It’s much like riding a bike, on water, but heavier and harder. Suffice to say, we were exhausted and had yet to pedal back.
“I told you,” Ma said dryly, “I told you we shouldn’t have gone so far out.”
I was too busy trying to catch my breath to respond to that sarcastic quip. But soon enough we began to pedal back, but after the breather, we seemed to have lost track of how to direct the piccolo pedalo and so instead of heading closer to the dock we seemed to move further away. It took us a while to get back and by the time we did, we were sweaty, dishevelled and over the rental time. It’s definitely an experience I would recommend. The lake is lovely, the view is phenomenal. All I would suggest is, that if you are a first-timer, like we were, don’t go so far out.
The best way to experience Lugano is to simply walk, we walked everywhere. It started raining in the middle and we got stuck in the middle of nowhere while walking along the coast. You go from the rush of the town filled with restaurants and piccolo pedalo docks to a stretch of quiet nothing, cars drive by at a leisurely pace and then through an outcropping of shrubs and bushes are cottages lying at the edge of the lake, scattered up and down atop the cliff-like walk. There’s a point from further along the coast where you can take a ferry back to the side of the crescent where the town lies. That’s how simple the walk is. It’s very peaceful and you get to people watch and see how people live in Lugano. There are bushes overflowing with hydrangea flowers and lots of picture-perfect spots. The ferry ride is cold even in June so always have a jacket on your person.
Restaurants to eat at in Lugano: La Cucina De Alice, Brivio Pizzeria
Our decision to come to Switzerland was a last-minute one. Obviously, Ma and I couldn’t get a seat on the coveted Glacier Express. It’s a little red train with floor to ceiling glass windows and the entire top is glass. It’s the bee’s knees to see the Alps. But we were travellers not to be deterred. And so we booked the same route as the Glacier Express on the normal alpine trains that would take us to Zermatt. And this on its own had its pros and cons.
While changing trains to get to Zermatt isn’t the best way, it’s not very difficult. The pros far outweigh the changing trains con. Within the Glacier Express, you get a fixed seat. You can’t move from one side to the other as the view flips. The trains Ma and I took were completely empty and as the views changed from left to right we got to move to each side. It was a more thorough experience than craning over your seat as we would have done on the Glacier.
From Lugano, we took a bus to Tirano which is a small town in Italy. We didn’t stick around to explore and hopped onto the rather famous Bernina Express which took us to beautiful Poschiavo.
Poschiavo is a town within the beautiful Bernina region. The lake looks like a sheet of cut glass, the blues translucent and in iridescent shades. The fluorescent shade found on the wing of a butterfly, the teal that laps at your feet on a sandy beach, royal green reflecting the trees, sheens of slate grey. It’s a wondrous sight. And while we didn’t get to stay long it’s definitely a stop worth seeing.
From Poschiavo we caught another train to St. Moritz where we stayed the night and planned to catch the trains that would take us to Zermatt the next morning. St. Moritz doesn’t have much to do in my opinion. It’s very much an elitist skiing town, and there’s shopping and a few places to eat. There are some nice bookstores and stationery shops and a lovely view of the snowy Alps.
The train rides to Zermatt are inexplicable. The beauty is surreal, the Swiss have kept their nature so pristine, clean and so accessible. There are no words, the only way to truly envision the journey to the city is to see it. I’ve uploaded pictures and videos below in the gallery at the end of the piece, but even those fall short.
And the view as you pull into Gornergrat Railway Station is nothing short of magical.
Zermatt is where people must go to feel like royalty. The air is the cleanest with the lack of fuel-based cars so the snow and air remain clean, fresh and glowing. The train draws into a station flocked with electrical carts and horse-drawn sleighs which ferry people from the station to their lodgings. The weather is chilly, and there are cobbled streets lined with shops which have fairytale-like exteriors. The river rushes through besides the main street and there are small bridges to cross over while exploring the city. And overhead looms the Matterhorn.
It’s the most uniquely shaped mountain I have ever seen, and I’ve seen quite a few at this point from the hills in Delhi and Uttarakhand to the volcanic mountains of Africa to the Swiss Alps, the Matterhorn has the most distinct shape. The tips curves upwards like a scythe and the rest of it looks like the Pyramids at Giza. It is an enigma of nature.
We took a cable car up to the summit the day after we arrived in Zermatt and if you’re not a climber that’s the best way to see the peak. There are a number of stops on the Cable Cars so you can climb to various points (up or down). Ma and I took the funicular all the way up enjoyed the view from the top of the viewing stations and then on the way down we stopped at one of the higher points and hiked down towards Zermatt through a trail that took us to Lake Riffelsee.
Within the lake lies a perfect reflection of the Matterhorn, the corners of it reflecting tiny rainbows. It’s like a mirror of nature. It was one of my favourite parts of the entire trip. Seeing that glass-like reflection with rainbow dappled rocks at the edges and streaming rivers from the melting ice.
At the end of two days, I was in awe. It was too bad I had started falling sick. Quite a tragedy actually considering Ma couldn’t go paragliding above the Matterhorn because she was too worried about me. I was okay going without the paragliding, not everyone can be as adventurous as my mother after all.
Upon arrival in Zurich, Ma and I checked into the hotel and were escorted into our rooms where I promptly collapsed onto the bed, sniffling and coughing, the skin on my nose chafed and red. But it was a mother-daughter trip! So I roused myself into action, as best as I could, with my curls left curly and tissues tucked into my purse in case I needed them (I did). Ma pulled on the room door to let us out into the cobbled streets, and yet nothing happened. She pulled again, nonplussed and still the door didn’t so much as budge. She eyed the door curiously, waited for a second and then pulled once again with great strength. The room door remained closed. She looked completely confused. I sat back down on the bed waiting for her to succeed at getting us out of the hotel room. She took off her bag and rubbed her palms together as though she were approaching a set of weights to lift. Placing both hands on the door she pulled with all her might. Still, the door remained closed. A laugh escaped me for not once during this whole trip had I seen Ma look this confused. We had never had this experience where we were stuck in the hotel because the door wouldn’t open. Now Ma had a determined sort of expression on her face. She put both hands on the doorknob, ground her feet into the carpeted floor and pulled with renewed vigour, her feet sliding against the floor with the force with which she pulled. Nothing happened. Utterly perplexed she called down to Reception to tell them that we were unable to exit the room.
“We can’t seem to get out,” she said listening to the Receptionist on the other end. “No, no we haven’t locked the door from our end,” she responded politely. “I think you might have locked us in from the outside,” she said after another pregnant pause. “Oh! We haven’t tried that!” she exclaimed suddenly while the receptionist chattered on. Thrusting the phone into my hands she dashed to the door, turned the knob and pushed it to the outside. The door swung open with a gentle creak and we both stared at it in astonishment.
Now while some might say it’s common sense, I have never known a door to open towards the outside. The open inwards by any standard, so while it might have been a waste of time to pull and pull, it wasn’t an idiotic venture, and it did provide some comic relief.
Capital of Switzerland, Zurich is a lovely city. It’s clean and bustling with life. It’s more city than alps, though you can see the peaks in the distance. The walk through the city is best done through the old town and past the lake which once more curves sort of like a crescent.
The first place we hit was the Grossmünster. It’s a massive Cathedral with these gigantic towers, that quite literally tower over the rest of the city. Built earlier than the Renaissance, sometime in the Dark Ages of history, this church has more medieval architecture than the Chiesa in Lugano. But the most beautiful part of the interiors for me wasn’t the frescoes but the large stained glass windows. They lie in arched panes in lovely jewel colors, the ruby reds of blood and the azure of a dragons scales. It’s definitely something one must-see.
As in every place I visit, I must recommend walking. Zurich while to me didn’t seem as historic as Luzern or as quintessentially eccentric and cultural as Lugano, is a lovely city. The old town is filled with restaurants where fondue is served through the day, the cheese forming strings from the two tonged forks to the pots of it. Artists paint and sell work and there are shops selling handmade soaps and teas of every flavour. Swiss candy in little one-room stores. The Old Town is so lovely. There are areas where you can see medieval-style houses which are where guilds form the renaissance used to work. Spice guilds and woodwork guilds and all kinds of little gems of history are tucked away within the folds of the Old Town. As you walk and go to the lake there’s a part that seems secluded from the bikers and rest of the city where there’s an overhanging of trees, the leaves droop down to the benches and swans flock the muddy embankment, their white wings tipped in the wet brown soil.
But my very favourite part of the city was Sprunglii’s. Artisan chocolate, the very best in the world. The food is magnificent, but it’s no secret that people come here for dessert. Airy pastry layered in white cream and topped with ruby strawberries that look like clouds that bleed. Row upon row of truffles that turn from the deepest black of bitter cacao to sweet brown milk chocolate encasing pralines of glittering caramelized hazelnuts to the pristine white truffles that look like snow from the tops of Mount Titlis. There are tarts filled with cream and cigarillos that crumble upon your tongue, bars of chocolate in every flavour, mint, raspberry, strawberry, hazelnut. It’s heaven on earth and the best place to stock up on gifts. After all what else is there to get for loved ones but Swiss chocolate from the very best chocolatiers in the country?
Aside from the city, Zurich is only a short train ride away from the magnificent Rhine Falls. These falls are so powerful you can hear them far far away. They formed in the last ice age. Pictures explain the magnificence better than any of my prettiest words. Tiny boats carry groups closer to the falls and I wanted to go on them but Ma was determined not to have me any sicker and refused and so we stood and watched the water cascade vociferously and flow in rapids.
This was one of my favorite trips. Natural scenery and the decadent fondue aside, I loved it more because I went with my mum. She’s become one of my favorite people to travel with. And once we can travel mask free I intend to travel with her a lot more.
Written In Starlight – A Review
Another Isabel Ibañez masterpiece! I loved this book, maybe more than the first one. Filled with South American culture, Spanish, loveable characters and phenomenal world-building. Also, is anyone else crazily in love with the cover of these books? Isabel illustrates them herself and they’re so so beautiful!
Written In Starlight is the second novel set in Inkasisa following Condessa Catalina after she is banished to the jungle where she finds adventure, magic and herself. The events of the book follow shortly after Woven In Moonlight. Catalina has been betrayed by Ximena and Princess Tamaya is now the Queen of Inkasisa. The book follows an exiled Catalina through the jungle as she looks for the Illari people so she might take back her kingdom alongside quiet, stoic Manuel.
I would definitely recommend reading the first instalment in this series to truly enjoy this one.
I love Isabel’s world-building. Everything about this book is so well thought out, the smallest elements come together to build Inkasisa into its own fantasy world brimming with South American culture and Isabel’s own magical ideas. She uses descriptive writing to help make everything come together. You can envision the food, the forest, the caimenas, the feral animals hunting the Condesa and the Illari. Everything is beautifully done. While the first book focuses on espionage and political intrigue this book is more of a jungle adventure. With the vast difference between the two settings of the books, Isabel shows the range of her writing and world-building and it seems endless.
I didn’t have high hopes for this book because I hadn’t particularly liked Catalina in book one. About halfway through I didn’t like her at all and I had to put the book down to think. And when I did I realized how relatable Isabel had made her. I wondered what I would do exiled in the jungle after the life of ease Catalina had priorly lived. I realized how interestingly written that was because suddenly I related with Catalina a lot more. I would probably have behaved in the same way, terrified and inexperienced. But she grows as a character, refuses to get ploughed down, keeps going, finds herself and is able to come to terms with everything that is happening with Inkasisa politically. She becomes so likeable. The other characters are well written but the book’s focus is on Catalina and that was okay because her growth is the main focus of the book.
I really loved the romance in this one. It was a slow-burn one and I really like Manuel and his loyalty to Catalina. There was so much angst between them. Catalina was already in love with him and the journey to be able to tell him and be able to convince him to look past his duty was filled with tension and crackling chemistry. I was holding my breath until they finally decided to get past all of it and be together, it was like waiting at a precipice and falling into a lovely cool pool at the end of a dry summer. So beautifully written, romantic and realistic.
Five glowing stars and I think Isabel has become a must-read author from me. I’ll probably be pre-ordering any book she writes in the future.
FUN FACT: The background for the featured photograph is actually a Peruvian Tapestry brought back home from Peru! It seemed only right!
The Henna Artist – A Review
Mehendi. The fragrance of it is reminiscent of happy times, festivals, days out, weddings. Fresh, earthy, tinged with a musk of sorts. In this day, we put mehendi or henna only when an occasion requires it, the designs, artistic peacocks and swirly, swishy nets that span the back of our hands and palms. It signifies an occasion, for me, it has never signified anything but a celebration. And while that may be the case for me and the people I know, it might be different all over the rest of India, where mehendi is applied every other day. It is applied generously sometimes with smears coating the tips of fingers and a misshapen circle in the centre of our palms, other times forming luxurious imagery of queens and kings, lovers at dusk, birds of the night, starry-eyed fish and whatever else a henna artist can think of.
The Henna Artist written by Alka Joshi came out in March 2020 and is a lovely read. It follows 30-year-old Lakshmi who has escaped an abusive marriage and hides within the large walls of Jaipur working as a henna artist for the rich ladies of society. Lakshmi trades in secrets and gossip as she helps the ladies make matches for their children while she draws beautiful henna art on their bodies all the while helping their husbands have affairs by providing their mistresses with pregnancy preventing sachets. And then Lakshmi’s hard-earned world begins to come crumbling down when her 13-year-old sister, Radha, who she had no idea existed finds her in Jaipur.
I think the idea of having a story set in the 1950s of India, right after independence has been earned, is so interesting. Most historical fiction stories will focus on the Partition of India, the Mughal Era or the sparkling ’80s where everything was glamorous. Rarely does one see a story set in the ’50s in India’s own Rajasthan when Nehru was still figuring out the five-year plans. So I liked seeing what India was like in the 1950s. And Joshi builds up India so well in her writing. She writes in simple language and yet uses that language in such a descriptive manner that the experience of reading this book feels lush and sumptuous. I can see the Pink City come to life like it is being sketched in my mind, the dusty street, tongas driving past high arches and columns of stone jaali, market places teeming with urchins, the scent of henna invading one’s senses as the cool paste is drawn over warm skin.
This section will contain a few spoilers, so please read at your own risk.
I think the idea of sisterhood was such an important theme of the book. I have a sister and I would do anything in the world for her. Radha and Lakshmi’s relationship was fraught with complications. Lakshmi was doing her best to provide for Radha, giving her the education she never had, trying to send her to university. She was spending large parts of her savings now feeding another person who she was responsible for. She didn’t give it a second thought, it was her responsibility towards her sister and she fulfilled it. Radha in return was unbelievably ungrateful. She was only 13, her understanding of the world was still incomplete having lived under the shadow of people who hated her and considered her a bad omen. The slightest love and sweet words swayed her. I know Radha was supposed to garner sympathy, empathy maybe. But all I felt for her was a great sense of irritation. She was the snake that bit the hand that fed her. She got pregnant, alienated her sister and was childish. She ruined the life Lakshmi had built for herself in the span of a few months and she showed no remorse. It was a very skewed relationship to me. I would never treat my sister the way Radha treated Lakshmi. Perhaps that is me being harsh, but I could never empathise with Radha.
I liked that Lakshmi was faced with her abuser and was afforded an apology by him. So rarely do we see domestic abuse survivors coming forward and getting a heartfelt apology. It may count for nothing in the long run but as a reader, it was so nice to see an abuser was no longer an abuser. It didn’t make me feel anything for him, all it did was give me a sense of peace that the next woman to fall in love with him, to marry him would be safe, wouldn’t be a victim. And Lakshmi as a survivor knows how to handle the abuse of men she meets in her life. The scene with the neem oil vendor was especially chilling and it made me shudder to think of the woman married to him as Lakshmi escaped from his lodgings by the skin of her nose. I think Joshi puts forward the idea that men who cheat are abusive too. They abuse their partner’s emotions and the emotions of the women they cheat with. They may never raise their voice or lay a hand on a woman, but the idea that they are fickle enough to betray their partners is abusive. And in a world where barely any rich women work other than hosting parties and being housewives where they are dependant on their husbands and will most likely not look at obtaining a divorce from them, where there are in a way helpless, using this helplessness to cheat is emotional abuse.
Another aspect I liked was how once all is said and done and Lakshmi decides to leave Jaipur, she leaves without demeaning the relationships she had. She believed that while those relationships may no longer mean anything to her, they were a part of her past and she wouldn’t forget them. I feel that’s such an important lesson to learn. People in our life teach us lessons that we learn from, and when things end with certain people it feels easier to shove them under the carpet forgetting important life lessons that we learn from them. Lakshmi refuses to deny that Samir was indeed a part of her life once, she keeps the lessons she learnt from him and all the ladies who were once in her life at a cool distance, not that she might forget them but that she might never forget what she learnt from them.
This book was a poignant read, filled with strong emotions, vibrant characters and lovely imagery. I can’t wait for the next book based on Malik who was my favourite character from this book!