Movie Review: Bheja Fry

Bheja Fry is not your average Hindi comic-bordering-on-cheesy flick, as is the rule nowadays with the tacky comedies that Bollywood has been regularly churning out in hordes. Rather, the director, Sagar Ballary, does serve decent fare in his maiden project.

The only slip-up – the comic caper turns monotonous half way through the movie. And what had amused the audience in the first part, becomes a droning, dragging piece.

The movie does have its shining moments though. Especially in the form of a certain Mr. Pathak, who sails through the part of a bumpkin taxman, and an aspirant singer, with commendable ease. Ranvir Sheorey, another caricaturized tax-officer, also gets the obligatory number of laughs, though I wish he had more screen space t share with his VJ peer.

Rajat Kapoor, as the smug, pom-pomming music producer, seems to have perfected the suave-smooth-operator-meets-haughty act. Except that it starts getting under your skin, and you’d rather that he stop. And probably show some versatility in his next character portrayal. Puhleeeez - Mr. Kapoor, wait jus yet, before you accept yet another cheque for the same kinda character. Jeeeez. In the movie, his idea of an entertaining Friday night is to invite some buffoon, so that he and his other stuck-up friends can share some good old scotch and delicate hors-de-oeuvres, “harmlessly” laughing at the antics of the chosen idiot of the day. Sounds neat, no?

Sarika, his morally-righteous singer-wife, is a character whom the director probably forgot to draw finely. Her sketchy dialogues, mood-spells, bamboo-purses (I felt one of them had a snake coiled inside it), and badly-pronounced English almost wants you to pay for some diction (and theater) classes. (Isn't it surprising that she didn’t pick up any histrionics from her ex-hubby, Kamal Hasan?)

Milind Soman, he of the Star-Trek-ears-variety, tries to hide them under a month of stubble, and long hair. Pity that he also hides his acting skills, under limited screen space, woody dialogue-delivery, doubling up with laughter, and then gliding away on his superbly-crafted crocodile-leather moccasins, before you would even register that he had walked in, in the first place.

All in all, Bheja Fry is a movie strictly for those who have ample time to spare(and waste). Oh yes, also if you fancy singing along to some songs, that Vinay Pathak insists on singing in bursts and starts, in the entire breadth of the movie. I'm not too sure what would be your movie companion(s)' reaction though. Psssst - it could waver between amusement and ire. As an audience to my friend's crooning, I fell in the former category. :-)

Heard that it is a remake of a French movie - Le Diner De Cons (The Dinner Game).

Haven’t seen it. Don’t think I want to either.

Do you?

The case of the frequent missed calls

Everybody around you is doing it.

Your cook, the naighborhood grocery dealer, scrap seller, the kids next door, your colleagues, friends, acquaintances, the maid-who-comes-in-daily, you name him, he's doing so.

Now before you embark on a vivid flight of your fanciful imagination, I'm afraid I'd have to tell you to rein those horses.

I am referring to the spate of hard-to-miss-in-your-face missed calls, that are making their presence felt, all with a couple of even rings.

Your friends have come to pick you up from your place, for a spin around town. Five minutes away from your place, a missed call proudly announces their nearing.

Post-lunch cigarette with that cute colleague? A missed call is all it takes for him / her to know your nicotine-craving time, and join you.

Not quite sure if your amnesiac friend will remember that chore you asked him to do? Fear not, a missed call is your best bet.

Feeling lazy to write that loooong message? Take out your cell in a trice, and place a missed call. Chances are, the other person might return your call.

Missed calls also come to your rescue, when your cell phone balance is precariously low, and you still desire to hear the other person's voice.

A friend who has free outgoing will naturally find himself being bombarded with missed calls by the dozen. Nightmare or heaven, you decide.

It's not always so rosy though.

For instance, when your miser cousin / so-called friend, makes it a regular feature to pester you with missed calls, a smile is the last thing on your mind. (Cussing highly recommended)

But I guess you'll agree that the redeeming features are more than their evils.

After all, they are convenient. Completely no-fuss.

Best of all, they don't cost a penny.

Today's insensitive gospel

So the other day, I went for a quick break with some of my colleagues to the roadside tea-shack. While we chit-chatted, the smell of piping hot tea wafted towards us, making me(a confirmed tea-lover), break out into a smile.

An avuncular man, with a toddler-girl in tow, walked towards us. Thrusting a pink pamphlet in our hands, he proceeded to talk earnestly about a nearby church, which was to hold an hour's gospel session that Sunday.

Murmuring our thanks, we expressed regret that that particular weekend looked iffy, but promised to drop by any other Sunday we would be in the area.

The man walked away with a beatific smile.

Our eyes followed him, as he made his way to another group, who, like us, were sleepy(it was the perfect time to snooze away, post lunch), and since a siesta looked improbable(nay, next to impossible), had decided instead, to grab their afternoon cuppa of steaming tea.

A couple of minutes sped by - the man, after distributing the pamphlets, proceeded to the other side of the road, the little girl trotting faithfully behind him.

The minute the duo had crossed the road, the group to which he had been speaking with, carelessly tossed the pamphlets aside. One even went so far as to crumple it, while yet another wiped his hands with it, flinging it disdainfully onto the sandy side of the road.

As I winced, the group merrily chattered away, finished their tea, and walked away, crunching the strewn papers under their ostensibly expensive shoes.

Leaving me with a disdainful expression on my face, thanks to their thoughtlessness, and utterly crass behavior.

The above scene is not one in isolation. You and your neighbor might have also encountered it. Quite a lot of people would probably say that the person distributing the pamphlets was a proselytizer, and it served him right that his pamphlets were treated in the above manner.

Some would pretend that doing so was sacrilege, but in the next breath, say something to the tune of each man being different, and behaving dissimilarly.

The rest would just turn their faces aside, shrug their shoulders, and walk away.

Which one are you?

Put Your Best Foot Forward

The humble kolha-puris, beaded sandals, and flip-flops are fast making a disappearance.

Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a tad bit, but hey, wherever I cast a look, I can see a whole spate of footwear, many of which I am sure I don't even know the names of.

Trendier versions are all the rage(not that I am complaining); and here I am not talking only about the killers - stilletos.

Today's footwear, especially for women, has come of age. And how!

Whatever the occasion, you have appropriate shoes that fit both your soles, as well as the wallet you carry.

You and I are spoilt for choice - the dainty ones can choose from Mary Janes, ballerina shoes(a fast catching-on trend, what with all the Tinas, Dianas, and Harriets, wearing them to every possible place), as well as peep toes.

Thick ankles? Worry not - go buy yourself a pair of wedges(available in that mall yonder, the supermarket, the neighborhood shoe-store, and its neighbor).

More of an office person?

Madame, pumps and mules are right up your street.

Choose from the perennial black, brown, beige, or white.

Have that crinkly, flowy skirt, and clueless as to what to team it with to that weekend party? Loads of boots out there - choose from any of these - go-go boots, ugg boots, cowboy boots( A word of caution: avoid the stilletoed-version in colors like fuschia pink, scarlet, aubergine, flurescent green / yellow, unless you want to give the impression of a dominatrix or a street-walker).

Hitting the gym? You are bound to be spoilt with all the sports companies vying with each other to coax you into buying their trainers.

If heels are as appealing to you as meat to a vegan, there is absolutely no reason for you to be dismayed.

The footwear industry boasts of espadrilles, and Chuck Taylors, available at any Converse outlet, in various eye-popping colors.

Platforms are another type(but since I have an aversion to seeing them, either adorning display windows of showrooms or on the feet of women), I woon't write a thing about them, except that they look obnoxious to me.

Whew! Now that I've let the steam off, I can continue with this post :-)

Stilletos, when teamed with killer outfits, besides looking pretty weapons of mass destruction , can also turn into neat weapons of self-protection. (Here the clunky, chunky platforms can also be given a note of mention). Soome jerk annoying you like hell? Wham! Off with your footwear, and teach him a good lesson. Don't just brandish the heels, use them, ladies.

And a last word before I end this post - if you are one of those who stagger, all wobbly-legged like Bamby the deer, on those impossibly-high heels, making people around you, giggle, do yourself a favor - get kitten heels.

They might not boast of those killer heels, but then, your peds will be grateful, believe me. Besides, kitten-heels look classy, you look as if you have experimented with heels, and you can walk around in them for ages, without wincing each time you take a step.

Go on, step out in style.

A World full of @#$%^&*

A lot of my friends say that I make many references to only one blonde – a certain heiress of luxury hotels.

While there have been news of another blonde who recently tried taking her life post a bald pate(and depression – in that order), and yet another one of them(a buxom one, this) shouting off the rooftops that she’s more than game for a stirring relationship, this blog post is about none of these.

I’m referring to a 20-something Hollywood actress who shares the same mane-color like the above mentioned ladies, and has a penchant for letting loose a stream of unparliamentary language.

While the lady in question apologized till she was blue in the face, and quite a few psychologists sympathized with her truly pitiable classic case of Tourette’s Syndrome; the unforgiving press is unlikely to forget, forgive and move on in a hurry.

This situation is not unlike what we see everyday around us.

To cite an instance, a speeding car bumps into another. Though the damage may be next to none, both the drivers are sure to indulge in a volley of cussing and swear words, besides proudly displaying their respective middle fingers, almost like war trophies.

Colorful words are abundant even in the tamest of situations, and one would probably hear them roll off freely, both the mouths of adolescents as well as their more senior (and seemingly mature) counterparts.

Women too are not to be left behind; now I am no prude, but yes, it does sound a lil jarring to hear profanities being delivered effortlessly from the so-called gentler sex, delivered with aplomb, all the while maintaining a cool-as-a-cucumber face.

Phew!

A few choice abuses have made their way into the vocabulary of endearments too. Two bosom pals meet after ages; they will liberally intersperse their salutations with colorful phrases. Case in question, “hey, you @#$%!^&*, where the friggin hell have you been, man / chick?” and then exchange hugs / hi-fives with such carefree abandon that one would think that they had never dropped one profanity.

Such cases leave me clueless as to whether the recipients of such abuses are supposed to keep stoic faces / grin genially / take major offence.

Tricky one that.

What’s your say?

News you can use

Came across this site sometime back - www.firstandsecond.com.

An online book, music and movie store, this one offers cool discounts of upto 70%, as well as free shipping across the country.

The search option is quick and efficient (a sure plus sign for impatient people like me). You also have book reviews, editorials, snippets about books and authors, news, and interviews.

Quite a nice site to browse when you have some spare minutes on your hands.

International Women's Day

Since last week, I've noticed a fair number of companies waving special schemes, freebies, complimentary packages - all with the same intention - to woo women.

and then it suddenly dawned upon me: oho - Women's Day was just around the corner. And hence, the following: a leading two-wheeler company giving trial runs to women, radio station / channels / newspapers - all urging you to don your 'thinking caps" and name your woman icon, etc etc etc.

Today, I was a tad amused to see the oppo gender at their chivalrous best - opening doors for their female counterpaarts, holding their bags(and laptops), the works.

However, I just want to see if the chivalry continues. Or was it just a one-day fad? (Obviously, I am keeping my fingers crossed).

More on this later.

Happy Womens Day!

Apple iPhone - India Edition

Though Apple is keeping a stiff upper lip on it, everybody around knows that they are planning to introduce the iPhone in India.

The uber-cool gadget looks all set to storm the Indian market, and probably cause the likes of the Blackberrys, Nokias, Samsungs, and Sonys, to break out into a cold sweat.

On the looks front too, Apple does not disappoint: the iPhone will be a 3.5 in, 160ppi touchscreen display beauty.

Add to that a memory of 4 or 8 GB, option of using the it as a widescreen iPod(seamless sync with iTunes using USB), unique features, and you are ready to groove. And how!

Now if only 2008, the year it gets launched in India, come around quickly.

Soccer fans - Rejoice

In a country obsessed with cricket, it is not very often that you see sites dedicated to other sports.
However, trust Google and Nike to come up with something different.
They have created an online community, called Joga, for soccer-fans worldwide. Besides accessing games, creating clubs, exchanging tips with like-minded people, you can also glimpse video clips and photos.
I absolutely love their tag-line, “Joga Bonito” – “play beautiful’ (Portuguese).
Become a member of Joga here.

Eve-Power

The oldest Ivy League college, Harvard, has added another feather to its illustrious feather, by naming Drew G.Faust, as its 28th President.

Faust, a renowned academician and historian, and founding dean of the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study, will become the President, effective July 2007.

This will be the first time that a woman will be taking over the reins of the 450+ year-old University.

Way to go!:-)

New Seven Wonders of the World

The Seven Wonders of the World are going to be assessed afresh.

A Swiss organization, New Open World Corporation(NOWC), has come up with a poll, with 21 finalists.

The best part - you and I can vote:-)

The results will be declared 142 days later, on 07.07.07.
Go ahead, cast your vote here.

P.S. - While all countries are all geared up for the voting, Egypt seems to have taken a major offence to this fresh analysis.

An overdose of red and pink - Valentine's Day

It all started with a soft beep last night.

My cell had just received a message.

Nothing extraordinary about it – I receive close to a hundred messages everyday.

Except that this one came from a person who I had not been in touch with for ages.

A saccharine-sweet message unfolded right in front f my eyes, much to my surprise.

Oooooh, it all dawned upon me: the clock had just chimed twelve (I knew thanks to the nearby temple that devotedly reminded one of the hours that went by).

And it was Valentine’s Day. GROAN.

I was just wondering the other day why this day whips up so many otherwise sane people in a frenzy. Sample the following:

For some people, preparations start right in earnest as long back as a fortnight or even a month before the actual day.

All the more a field month for card and gift makers, flower-sellers, jewelry manufacturers, watch makers (one enterprising watch company this year even came out with matching ‘couple” watches. Cho chweet. No?!) etc, who go grinning like Cheshire cats, all the way to the banks!

Shades of red (and pink) which I had never known existed, seem to be shouting off the rooftops in the form of abundant soft, furry toys that make me

a) Grimace
b) Break out in a cold sweat
c) Both the above

An up market coffee place has even come out with “innovative” Valentine shakes, complete with one straw (how exceedingly orally-hygienic. Ahem.) for the oh-so-much-in-love couples and guaranteed pink / red interiors.

Promises to be quite a mentally-progressive sight.

Then comes the D-Day. Complete with all the fanfare you can imagine.

Couples, dressed all in their finery (read more shades of crimson), walk all lovey-dovey, hand-in-hand, casting deep looks of adoration at each other.

Oblivious to those around them, they proceed to their chosen venue – a restaurant, a hotel, a tapri, a McDonald’s (depending on how deep their pockets are).

Ohhh, and can I forget, they are armed with bouquets – blushing flowers (again of the red-hued variety), carrying them like war-trophies.

(The flowers have been purchased at triple their actual costs, making many flower-sellers break out into merry jigs).

With looks that speak a thousand words, the couples then start the customary gift-giving (procured from grinning merchants). Ooooohs and aaahs follow in quick succession. Furtive pecks, kisses, caresses, you name it - do the rounds.

Some guys down spirits; some "adventurous" women, after circumspect looks, demurely take a sip or two.

Is that really what Valentine’s Day has come to?

Sad but true for quite a few folks.

Though the next morning many of these selfsame couples may go back to their quibbling selves, for one 'glorious" day, love is definitely in the air.

And how!

Of insensitive people and surly strangers

The other day, while I was waiting in my office cab at a traffic signal, I heard a wailing siren. What I was imagining to be a Delhi PCR van turned out to be an ambulance with a red beacon, most probably carrying some emergency patient to a hospice. My cab driver (who I’m guessing isn’t all that educated) swerved to his left to allow the green-and-white ambulance to pass, as did the car driver in front of me.

Ironically, a hefty man (who looked as if he had gone to one of those pompous elite schools), refused to budge, much to my annoyance, and subsequent horror.

Meanwhile the shrieking ambulance honked plaintively behind the monstrosity that that particular man was driving.

My pulling down the cab-window, and yelling at him to pull over and let the ambulance pass, only resulted in him shaking my fist at me and asking me to mind my own business.

Just as I turned a bright shade of crimson in ire, and was about to alight from my cab and tell him a thing or two, an elderly gentleman emerged from his car, and calmly told the menacing stranger to pull over and let the ambulance pass.

When the rude man saw that everyone meant business, he grudgingly made way for the ambulance, which zoomed off.

Before we could say anything else to the surly chap, he had stepped into his SUV, and also went whizzing past us, disregarding the red traffic light.

Rolling our eyes, the senior gentleman and I made our way respectively to our cars, and were on our way.

But not without thinking, what had our world come to, where some people were so inured to others’ pain, that they wouldn’t even be bothered to abide by basic humanity, leave alone courtesy.

A pitiful lot, such people make me think, would they forgive others who would respond the same way if their own loved ones were in need of urgent medical assistance?

I bet they wouldn’t.

Movie Review: The Holiday

Withstanding the nippy air and steady droplets of rain yesterday, we bravely reached a theater to watch Nancy Meyer’s light romance, “The Holiday.”

I wouldn’t call it earth shatteringly great, in fact to be honest, it is a tad slow to watch in places, but overall, I wouldn’t call it a bad chick flick.

The movie unfolds with Iris Simpkins (Kate Winslet), a reporter with the Daily Telegraph, Surrey. Perpetually reaching out for tissues, Iris is in an unrequited love relationship. The object of her affection is her fellow-colleague, Jasper Bloom (Rufus Sewell), a schmuck who conveniently walks all over her, remembers her only when it comes to getting his papers edited, has an affair with another colleague, and gets engaged to her.

On the other hand is glam Amanda Woods (Cameron Diaz), a movie trailer producer in L.A., who despite all her efforts, finds herself incapable of shedding even a single tear. Revolted by her cheating boyfriend, Ethan (Edward Burns), she packs a punch on his face, and throws him out of her luxurious apartment.

On an impulsive whim, the two disillusioned, workaholic women decide to go in for a home exchange, and land up in each other’s homes. Does Amanda find love in the sinfully-sexy Graham (Jude Law), a widower with two adorable daughters, and who happens to be Iris’s elder brother, and with whom she hits the sack in their first encounter?

And does Iris succeed in getting Amanda’s neighbor, ageing Hollywood script-writer Arthur Abbott (Eli Wallach) grace the Writer’s Guild Festival, sans his crutches? Meanwhile, much against her will, she finds herself liking Miles (Jack Black0, Amanda’s assistant.

What’s the hitch, you may ask? He’s already heads over heels in love with Maggie, an aspiring actress.

The movie does have its moments of light-heartedness, notably the phone call in which Iris puts both Iris and Graham simultaneously on hold., and goofs up tremendously.

Watch it if you have nothing better to do on a lazy Sunday morning / afternoon.

Keep the popcorn and soda handy though.

You’ll be needing them.

The week that was

Back after a four-day hiatus.
With work hitting the roof, a whopping number of bills(as a result of a hectic shopping spree on Saturday), a completely forgettable flick on Sunday afternoon, and returning to office to a truckload of work, life sure seems bleak.
So much so that yours truly hasn't even been able to carry out her first passion - writing.
Hope the remainder of this week is nothing like what last week was.
If ever there was optimism, this is it in its rawest form.

No music for our ears

Why is it that the city I am in (which by the way, happens to be the capital of the country) always gets step-motherly treatment from any band that intends to play in the country?

Most bands (and I am talking rock here), usually give Delhi a miss.

What with Pink Floyd’s former member, Roger Waters scheduled to perform this month on the 18th in Mumbai, and Iron Maiden to perform in Bangalore next month, Delhi finds itlsef sidelined once again.

Now it’s not that the capital doesn’t have its fair share of rock aficionados; it’s not even that there aren’t any watering holes that cater exclusively to this genre(guys guys, think TC and Café Morrison) – why then does Delhi miss out on all the action?

Not fair.

Hmphhhhh.

The Taj

Back on Blogger after a hiatus.

What with a one-day visit to Agra to see the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort last Thursday, last minute shopping for my best friend's wedding this weekend, and then the actual marriage itself, my hands were full.

Office trip to Agra was fab.

The Taj obviously doesn't need any frivolous introduction.

Having seen it before, I was not really expecting my breath to be taken away.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

The milky white monument literally made all my colleagues draw in their breaths sharply - that deep was the impact.

Our well-informed(and read) guide did a great job in making us revisit Shah Jahan's golden days.

A colleague took this pic - the monument of love, understandably among the Seven Wonders of the World, stands tall, bearing testimony to a glorious past.

Rider Mania 2007: Nagpur, January 24 - 25.

The thunderous roars will be heard from a mile away.

The assembled group-members will not be more dissimilar.

Lanky barely-crossed-sixteen pubescents, bandanna-ed-20-year-somethings, suave corporate types who look straight out of boardroom meets, a spattering of women looking completely at ease in the male-dominated scene, pony-tailed beer-bellied men hanging on to the last shreds of their youth (and rapidly-receding hairlines) – you name them, they will be there.

Welcome to the Rider Mania 2007, the annual event where all Royal Enfield club members across the country collect as one.

The event, organized last year by Chennai’s Madras Bulls, is being taken charge of by Wanderlust Bullet Club, a Nagpur club.


So there’s more to Nagpur than its oranges, you must be thinking.

You bet there is.

At this time there, Royal Enfield aficionados, enthusiastically gathered for the 2-day long beer and bike fest, would have gunned their mean machines into full throttle...

Now if only I knew how to drive one of those machines, I too would have been jostling for my own place there.

PS: Just came across the Wanderlust anthem, “Thundergods of the Road.”

I’m a tamer of storms
Enslaver of the highways
Sleepin' where I fall
A rebel livin' my way

Wanderlust emblazoned on my heart
Motorcycle fire blazing in my soul

I’m a thundergod...of the road

I’ve ridden through the desert, the forest and the trees
I’m a ruler of the mountains, ruler of the breeze
I ride through the sunshine, the rain and snow
Leave a blazing trail of fire anywhere i go

I’m a thundergod...of the road

You better beware, don’t mess with me honey
You better watch what you do
I ain’t playin’ no games, gonna take no sh*t
I’m gonna piss on your attitude

My motor spittin' lightnin', my engine roaring thunder
My wheels keep spinnin', like the spell im under
Devils in my soul, angels by my side
Born to raise hell, I was born to ride

I’m a thundergod...of the road.

Not bad, huh?

Tom Petty: Free Fallin'

Despite the gory story behind it, Free Fallin’ (sung by Tom Petty in his characteristic throaty voice) remains one of my all-time favorite songs.

It’s about a “good” girl, in love with a “bad” boy, who doesn’t even miss her, despite breaking her heart.

The song is picturized on troubled skateboarder, Mark Gator Rogowski and his then girlfriend, Brandi McClain.

After Brandi put an end to their tempestuous relationship, a battling-his-addiction-to-alcohol Gator turned into an obsessively jealous ex, and on one fateful day, assaulted and bludgeoned Brandi’s good friend, Jessica Bergsten to death, venting all his anger into her. Shudder.

But the song is really something.

See the video here:

Book Review: Waiting - Ha Jin

Recipient of many literary awards, Jīn Xuěfēi (more commonly known as Ha Jin), literally weaves magic with his pen.

For weeks, silly me had been postponing reading his prize-winning novel, Waiting, (Ha Jin received the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction for it), dismissing it each time as yet another soporific doctor-nurse romance.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Saturday night, post some intoxicating liquids, I started turning the pages of the book. And boy! Was I hooked! I was unable to put it down till I finished it – it was that compelling.

Set in Muji City, a fictitious town in China, the novel revolves around an army doctor, Lin Kong, trapped in a loveless marriage to his wife, Shuyu. Love beckons in the form of Manna Wu, an attractive single nurse at his hospital.

It doesn’t help that for the last seventeen years, each time Lin went to his native place, Goose Village, for his annual summer break, he would plead his wife for a divorce, something which the country woman would never grant him.

Communist strictures frown upon Lin Kong and Manna’s union; he needs to be officially separated from his wife before even thinking of a future with Manna.

Despite tending lovingly to Lin’s ailing parents (both of whom die in succession of each other), and bearing a child, Shuyu, the devoted daughter-in-law, wife and mother, is the very epitome of a woman wronged, a woman who was content to be at home, nursing her child(and a broken heart later), although painfully aware that her husband had taken a concubine. Unlike her husband who grimaces at her bound feet, she continues to hobble on them painfully, oblivious to the strange looks and sniggers she draws from other people.

Lin Kong has to wait for eighteen long years to finally secure a separation from Shuyu – after 18 years, a man could divorce his wife whether she gave her permission or not, and is free to marry again.

He does so, and marries the loyal Manna, who has stood by him for almost two decades.

Ironically, he “waited eighteen years just for the sake of waiting.”

I'd leave it at that to fuel your curiosity.

Get hold of this novel to find out what happens to the trio eventually.

A powerful novel, Waiting spellbinds you with its simple writing style, realism, and masterful narration of emotions like love, confusion, anguish, betrayal, lust, and frustration.