Me Being A Graffiti Artist - You Should Too

I know, I know. I have been dead in the bloggerverse without even posting a formal I-am-gonna-be-dead post. I couldn’t be bothered to. Fell into Too-Lazy-To-Blog phase. Which preceded the It’s-Exams-This-Week phase. You know, the phase that coincides with the I-Am-Not-Renewing-My-Internet-Subscription-In-The-Likely-Hope-I-Will-Study phase. Too bad Like-That-Made-My-Exams-Go-Any-Better phase followed soon after. I hope this passable attempt at a blog makeover will win you guys over.

But not to worry, all you lovable people. The extreme mental exercise (and torture) that my brain was subjected to, got those dusty shelves in the corner, a spring cleaning. Things started making sense and I realized I needed to tell some people.

This blog was named The Graffiti On The Wall for a reason. I wanted to write about all those trains of thoughts that traveled on the tracks along the border of sanity and insanity. This pseudo-technically (humour me – pretend this phrase is approved by the Oxford whitebeards) makes me a graffiti artist.

I’ve always admired graffiti artists. I am aware that it is illegal but somehow it feels revolutionary. I swear, some dude with a lot of green to throw around should put up some Walls-Exclusively-For-Scribbling everywhere so that these artists get a canvas. A mouthpiece.

Dear fellow bloggers, we’ve taken wall graffiti to another dimension. 

 WE ARE GRAFFITI ARTISTS TOO.

I am highly opinionated. Yes, I am a vegetarian. No, I am not a feminist. Yes, I am pro-LGBT. No, I despise Fifty Shades. Yes, I have started resenting John Green’s omnipresence. No, I don’t see what’s so great about Twilight.Yes, I would defend JKR to the ends of the world. No, I don’t care that there is a severe lack of POCs as MCs. Yes, I listen to Justin Bieber. No, EFF YOU, I think nerds are cool.

Shout it out to the world people. There is no need for you (and I don’t just mean fellow bloggers) to go along with the tide and wash up as flotsam on some beach along with other similar opinions. Learn to say NO. Spray paint your walls with resilience, willpower and courage.

Do not forget to put up walls in the first place.

Alright, that’s it. I am done with this philosophical crap. 

ARC REVIEW: Whisper (Lakeview #2) - Stacey R. Campbell

*Courtesy of Netgalley*
WARNING: KINDLY REFRAIN FROM READING THIS POST IF YOU ARE A FAN OF CLICHÉ LOVE STORIES. AND IF YOU MIND SOME SPOILERY INFO.
Note that this review follows after my post on clichéd love stories. I have my exams coming up this week and I allotted time to read this book because, trust me, the Goodreads synopsis was pretty attractive. With a quarter of the book done (actually even before that), I had a sneaking suspicion that I was going to regret that I hadn’t read another book instead. Or even studied (see? That bad.)
Let’s see why shall we?
Elsie died on her way to right some wrongs. But she couldn’t (because she died). Flash forward to 2012. Halle (an eighth grader) finds a diary belonging to Elsie (who belongs to line of the founding fathers of the Lakeview academy). Elsie begins to haunt her (“Find the crest. Return it.”). Halle tells it to Leigh (a senior and the protagonist – I think – or is it Halle? – both maybe), and she tells it to her friends. Let’s find the crest and put Elsie’s soul to rest.
The writing is bland. As in I Felt No Emotion (just kept checking how many pages were left). And sometimes the sentences had no relation to the one preceding it. Examples:
- Leigh is trying to relax. *Her parents were Northern California hippies who hit the big time when their small winery won a prestigious award* Then she heard her mom’s voice guiding her through meditation breaths.
- Leigh is asking her best friend why he couldn’t be straight. He says if he were he wouldn’t have let FB posts stand in their way. (long story) *Leigh smiled. At least she had never done anything more than kiss Calum* (Bloggerverse, our hero)
- *Leigh smiled. “I might have a better grade but I have zero life because of it. Speaking of my non-existent social life, Halle wants to start searching for Elsie’s crest as soon as possible.”*
Me: Huh????
Elsie’s diary was written in 1914. The vernacular used sounds… not 1914. I also felt that the diary pages were arranged badly.
*Calum looked up from his mug. His blue eyes locked on Leigh’s as he pursed his lips and blew on his tea. God, those lips. She couldn’t help but conjure up the feeling of them pressing into hers last night.* Hang on, when did you start talking, Leigh?
I can forgive all of the above. But then.
Enter Leigh and Calum.
The Bad Boy hero:  Calum has a reputation as a manwhore. He kissed Leigh once in grade eight, and broke up the next day (due to some misunderstandings). But now he is afraid to fall in love. Look what happened to his heart (aw.) He has to get Leigh out of his head. So begins his Screw-Every-Girl phase. Every girl goes ahhh at the sight of him. Except for…
The Heroine who HATES Mr. Everyone-Swoons-Around-Him: Who is disgusted with him. Who never fails to miss an opportunity to disparage him. But his SMILE. His EYES.  “Damn it, the dirtier he got the cuter he looked”.
Calum is no better. “Not a trace of the heavy makeup most girls wore marred her porcelain skin.” *mimes puking*
Side effects of being in tortured love: The breathing difficulties that come with locking eyes. Body temperature inciting gastric responses.
Most fortunate coincidences: She falls, he comes and picks her up (after teasing her, of course, for being so clumsy). She forgets to switch off the lights, comes back, when he bumps into her in the dark (ooh, someone get the defibrillator, heart beats are becoming irregular)
PLEASE NOTE: The above mentioned snippets are SOME examples. After a certain point, I stopped making notes and concentrated on finishing the book.
This is an another cliché love story with a ghost scaring people in the background. Who can perform anything of the paranormal variety except tell them where the crest is. Which she does at the end of the book. Elsie could have done it earlier and saved a soul.
VERDICT: 1 star

The Handbook of Building a Ship

Miss J (again a recap, my buddy reader) and I were discussing a book that I’d read – I was summarising (well, trying to). The conversation went something like this:

Me: Girl meets boy, boy is popular, she finds him cute but irritating…
J: uh-huh
Me: She screams at him, he screams at her – you know the fighting phase
J: uh-huh
Me: But then –
J: She has a history? Perhaps something she can’t open up to him?
Me: Um, yeah?
J:She starts finding his smile cute? Arrogant but cute?
Me: (tubelight flickers) uh-huh
J: And then they kiss?
Me: (smiling mischievously) uh-huh
J: Where have we heard this before?

Where indeed.

Dear reader, I dedicate this Valentine’s Day special to you.

How many times have we felt a sense of deja-vu when reading a book? Be it about high school, vampires, werewolves, normal people in a dystopian world, building a ship goes through the following phases:

1. The “He/She-Pisses-Me-Off” phase:

He is a bad boy (biker dude with leather jacket/jock/Casanova) with killer looks and an attitude to match.
She is a new girl, nerd, unpopular, dubbed “weird” by peers. Eventually it becomes apparent that she has a “dark history/a past she wants to escape from”.
Sometimes the roles are reversed. He is poor/geek/”lower class”. She is rich, snobbish (which eventually turns out to be a mere façade, of course) with popular friends.
She can’t stand the sight of him. Or vice versa.

2. The “WHAT-THE-HELL-IS-YOUR-PROBLEM?” phase:

She: YOUR MERE EXISTENCE IS ENOUGH TO MAKE MINE UNWORTHY OF LIVING BLAH BLAH..
He: WHAT DID I DO? YOU’RE THE ONE….

Ladies and gentlemen, somebody call the 911, the fire has started. Ooh…
3. The “He/She –May-Not-Be-That-Bad” phase:

She: He actually has a heart! It’s just he doesn’t like having an audience to his kindness (aw…) his SMILE –
He: Her hair, her smile, her eyes (and she thinks she isn’t pretty), her stubbornness (GOD SHE’S SO HEADSTRONG), she’s so cute when she’s angry (her nose crinkles, aw).

The Revelation: I may or may not have a crush on him/her.

4. The “Is-Zis-What-Zey-Call-Zing” phase:

Their hands accidently brush, a “tingling”, a “shiver” that courses through their body, they consciously touch, there’s fire everywhere, and then suddenly he/she pulls hand away…..
(Is this love?)

5. The “Let’s-Rock-This-Ship-Baby” phase:

Lights. Camera. Action.
The big kiss.  (and we all swoon)
(I’m in love.)
And so a ship has been built and all set to sail.

6. The “I’m-Putting-You-In-Danger-I’m-Leaving” phase:

Miss J thinks this phase constitutes the rest of the plot in some books. I steer clear of such books, my only experience is New Moon, but J swears this phase is omnipresent.

Thing is, I don’t know whether this is too much of a bad thing. The Mediator series, These Broken Stars, Eleanor and Park floated some awesome ships that weathered the above.

However. THERE IS A LIMIT TO ABUSING OUR INTELLIGENCE, RIGHT? Right.

Books that feature some or all of the above:
Bully – Penelope Douglas
Until You – Penelope Douglas
The Statistical Probability of Falling in Love
Perfect Chemistry
Josh and Hannah
(yawn) And lots more.

Bloggerverse, care to comment?

REVIEW: The Chaos Walking Series

“The Noise is a man unfiltered, and a man without a filter is just chaos walking.”

- Todd Hewitt, The Knife of Never Letting Go

I came across this book a while back, and let me tell you the backside blurb does no justice WHATSOVER to the book. Hence, the delay in me finally reading it.

The story takes place on a planet which men have invaded after killing the indigenous intelligent life (the Spackle) in a ruthless war (you know, men being men). But the men got a rude shock when they realized their thoughts were no longer private, it could be heard by anyone else – Noise. But, what they couldn’t stand was the fact that the women didn’t have it, and after a while, the men killed them too. So Todd begins his story in a female-less world, Prentisstown . “Populayshun 147 and falling, falling, falling. 146 men and one almost-man.”

But he has to run away (“I’ve stopped even asking what’s going on since nobody’s seeing fit to tell me nothing”) with his dog Manchee (“ow, Todd?” – I swear I love that dog). But he finds someone on his way.

Viola Eade. A Girl.

This series was a constant heartburn. Like, my blood-pressure-is-shooting-heartburn. I can’t give away anything more without spoiling you so *zips mouth*

But there are some things you should know. Like the fact that after a constant stream of heroine-centered dystopian novels, this is a breath of fresh air. And the action sequences are very much movie-like because of impressive usage of the present tense.

There is a villain (the usage of the term would be subject to debate) who gets the spotlight in the second book - the Mayor (the President, the President). "Brilliant” would be a grain too little to describe what he is, “Evil” a grain too much, and a grain shy from "psychotic". Perfect “villain” in other words (“I’m not your real enemy, Todd”).

Then there is some food for thought. As in why we should fight, kill, not do either, is war personal, is it wrong to make it so, difference between a man and a boy, the choices we make, losing/finding your identity, racism (the races being those who are men and those who are not), having to be a leader when you don’t want to be, and when to stop fighting, not start another war. The last book introduced a third POV that was completely surprising but essential/intelligent.

Man alive, but my head hurts.

Then there is Todd and Viola. TODD AND VIOLA. I’ve never shipped another pair more strongly than this one. These two inspire some REALLY strong emotions.

And lastly, if you thought the first book was ok plot-wise (like I did), hang on for your dear life when you pick up the second (like I just barely did).

VERDICT: 4.5 stars.

(Honestly, the stars don’t mean anything. Just go read it.)

P.S.: I can’t help myself but give you a heads up. Watch out for the ending (with stress-relievers at the ready).

January in Books

The list that follows is proof enough that I went on a HUGE reading binge this month. I’m more or less trying to compensate for the lack of reading that could happen (God forbid) in the next few months (our semester just started – no one’s tail is on fire yet). And I read some really good books this month, so-

1.        In the Shadow of Blackbirds – Cat Winters
The year started off beautifully with this book.  I’ve read few books (read that as none) set during WW1. I’ll throw you some key words: Spiritualism, dead boyfriend’s ghost (sans the sappy romance in the Dead Boyfriend’s Ghost genre), science geeks, plague, war, survivors. If you still don’t want to read this book, go read Breaking Dawn (my favourite method of torture).

2.        Cut – Patricia McCormick
I was introduced to my Author of the Month through this book. It’s a small story about a girl who cuts herself, a self-inflicted mute, a resident at Sick Minds (sorry, Sea Pines).

3.       Sold – Patricia McCormick
A thirteen year old Nepali girl gets sold for 800 rupees by her stepfather into a prostitution ring in India. Lakshmi happily goes along with “Auntie” thinking about the tin roof she can buy her mother with the money she gets by working as a maid in “The City”. This novel traces her loss of innocence with a narration that doesn’t give a lot of morbid details but is still harrowing. Some chapters are bookmarked material. 

4.       Never Fall Down – Patricia McCormick
Set during the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia, it tells the story of Arn, how an ice-cream selling boy morphed to a gun-wielding man-boy. The horrors that are described are numbing. I didn’t know till the epilogue that this was a true story, so it was enough to drive me into a hangover I desperately wanted over with. Proud at Arn’s courage to speak out.

5.       What Was She Thinking? (Notes on a Scandal) – Zoe Heller
Barbara takes it upon herself to give an unbiased account of the scandal that branded her best friend Sheba a whore – for sleeping with a student at the school where they both work as teachers. I expected the story to be wholly about the affair, but Barbara’s possessiveness of her friend shares the limelight too. It’s a funny account (of friendship really) with Barbara’s thoughts on the scandal.

6.       A Tale for the Time Being – Ruth Ozeki
Ruth finds a diary about a girl Nao among the flotsam (or maybe jetsam) on their beach. Nao starts off by saying that she has decided to die. The novel then shifts between diary pages and Ruth’s life – telling us all about Buddhist nuns, her great grandmother in particular, some Buddhist teachings, her suicidal father (who attempts suicide many times – “Why can’t he get it right?”), the bullying at school (which makes you feel really sorry for her), her tryst with YouTube, Schrodinger’s cat, and a lot about time and time – beings.

7.       The Invention of Wings – Sue Monk Kidd
Like it says, it is about the invention of wings in America before the abolition of slavery. It’s about Sarah and her sister Angelina as abolitionists and feminists, the criticism they faced from family, their town, and even fellow abolitionists. The chapters are alternately handled by Sarah and Handful, who’s legally Sarah’s maid (long story). Handful is endearing inspiring with her tongue, thoughts and her capacity to love. Although it’s fiction (Handful is sadly too much so), it’s actually a liberal account of the Grimke sisters. Bear that in mind if you think the novel should have a stronger story (which I initially did and I’m still beating myself up for it).

8.       Flowers for Algernon – Daniel Keyes
Charles Gordon has an IQ of 68. 32 years old. A simpleton. Lovable.  He is offered a chance to increase his IQ through surgery (with a high risk percentage) in the name of science. He accepts. Through a series of progress reports that he is made to write (“I cant rite good but he says it dont matter he says I shud rite just like I talk and like I rite compushishens in Miss Kinnians class”) we get him. We really do. I can’t say anything more without giving out too much.

REVIEW: Beautiful Music For Ugly Children

When you see this title in a bookstore, would you pass on without flipping to the backside and reading the blurb?  10 on 10 for the title alone.

Gabe is a guy. But he was born as Elizabeth. A radio show that started out as a pursuit for the sake of his love of music conquers a fandom. A radio hosted by Gabe who is Liz in school. An audition for a radio station seems like his chance for a big escape but then his secret gets out. And not everyone likes it.

So I plopped on the bed and started reading. I’m not a big fan of pretentious language so I liked the honest writing. And the characters were real. My music preferences clashed with the Beautiful Music but I’m fully willing to accept that I have sucky music preferences.

And Gabe. A guy with a Mango. Who is in love with his BFF. Who cheats on her lips by checking others out.  A dude with a coochie snorcher who stole someone else’s girlfriend. How do you not like him?

It’s not a REMARKABLE novel, but a must- read all the same.

Verdict: 3.5 stars.

Oh all right, 4 stars (Note to self:  Stop being so miserly. It’s not like you can write anything half so good.)

Ode to a Washing Machine

Till a couple of years back, almost every home appliance in working condition (and those who weren’t, may they rest in peace in our flat aka Those-Can-Be-Repaired Cemetery) were at least older than me, or older.  You come in to our humble abode, and I would introduce you to Oven Chechi, TV Chettan, Fridge Chettan, and Washing machine Chechi.  TV Chettan became a martyr in the LCD/LED revolution, and we got rid of him (no! sorry Papa, he expired). My other older siblings were going on strong, you could hear them grumbling and bickering and pinging and buzzing. My dad kept saying it’s because he knows how to show them love and treat them like the people they deserve to be. Amma couldn’t have cared less. She would dump the laundry into the spin dryer, he would scream IS THAT HOW YOU DO IT WOMAN and she would scream back THEN WHY DON’T YOU DO IT and he would take it from her and lovingly curl the clothes along dryer wall. Even when she (Washing machine Chechi) threw tantrums, Papa would be patient with her.

Needless to say, none of us could find it in us the patience necessary to handle our extended family.

Now this bout of reminiscing was brought on by the news that Washing machine Chechi had committed suicide. Papa had loaded the dryer when all of a sudden she groaned and puked out the laundry. And moved no more. IN PAPA’S PRESENCE (note the point). When Amma pointed out this fact to him, that never once had this happened when she did it, he meekly tried to impress upon all of us (all this was conveyed over the phone to me – including the NO GIVE THE PHONE TO ME HUSBAND/ DON’T BELIEVE A WORD SHE SAYS ANETA squabble) that Chechi had finished her time on earth, he had no role in it, and that the fact that she stayed alive so long - EVEN WITHOUT THE HELP OFA REPAIRMAN MIND YOU – was because of him.

Amma, my sister and I merely clapped hands and made him order a brand new one.

I just got off the phone with him. He’s reading the instruction manual. Apparently, SHE’S RUSTPROOF ISN’T SHE BEAUTIFUL?

On a totally unrelated note, I can count the number of times he has called me beautiful on one hand.