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Most of our lives, we are defined by our relationship with others. We are children, lovers, spouse, parents, friends, etc. But what is left of us when those connections are lost? And do we value and nurture our relationships enough to ensure they withstand the test of time?

This is largely what Beth Morrey’s debut novel ‘Saving Missy’ forces us to confront. But it’s not a bleak book that is heavy on the heart. Saving Missy is actually a beautiful story about love, loss and how friendship can keep you afloat in the worst of times.

Missy Carmichael is 79, and life isn’t how she envisioned it would be at that age. She has no one to talk to in her large home and her footsteps echo and haunt her. The narrative jumps back and forth to when Missy was young. You read about her life with her husband, Leo, at different stages of their relationship. You also get to see the complicated relationship she shares with her son and daughter and how it got to that point.  

The book starts off slow and it takes a while for you to warm up to Missy and her new friends, Sylvie and Angela, and it all seems a little shallow initially. You can’t put a finger on what feels amiss but something does. Then it all clicks and picks up. You realize you have started caring for Missy and want Sylvie and Angela in your life too. Or, if you are lucky, you realize you already have a Sylvie or an Angela in your life.

Through Missy, you also get an insight into the lives of the elderly and how isolated and lonely they can get. It makes you want to spend a little more time with the elders in your family and not be in a rush to have a quick chat and leave.

One of my absolute favorite books is ‘A Man Called Ove’ by Swedish columnist, blogger, and writer Fredrik Backman. A story about a grumpy old man with uncompromising routines and rules, the book makes you laugh, makes you think, and, above all, makes you try and be a little more accepting of people and all their quirks. It is, for me, everything a good book should be and does everything fiction is supposed to. I feel it’s the most perfect book ever.

I was reminded of A Man Called Ove while reading Saving Missy. It might be unfair to compare the two because Backman and Morrey have completely different writing styles. But Missy feels like the female version of Ove. There are just so many similarities. They are both stubborn, lonely, and in denial about wanting love and affection. Both Ove and Missy are aging and feel like they are just meaninglessly passing time to get to life’s inevitable end someday.

I thought I fell in love Missy because I’ve always been in love with Ove. But when I finished and put the book down, I realized Missy took up considerable space of her own in my heart, for the person she is and the person she is willing to become for those she loves.

Fiction

Saving Missy

Beth Morrey

Published: 2020

Publisher: Harper Collins

Language: English

Pages: 372, Paperback

In  ‘Gone Away’ by Dom Moraes, Chapter 4 is called ‘Living Like a Rana’. The most significant thing he seems to remember from staying in a Rana palace is that his hosts sent him a woman to warm his bed. Tantalizing as that may seem to some, there were other delights to be had within the walls of these palaces. These have been catalogued by Rohini Rana in her new ‘Rana Cookbook’.

These are recipes from the palaces of Nepal and though Rohini didn’t get them all she got a good number: 134 plus some from feasts and festivals. Eight of them I shall review here and you can try them at home, after getting the book, which I heartily advise.

In a splendid production of Penguin Random House, India, each recipe is magnificently illustrated. The recipes are divided into sections. This is useful as not everyone has the same tastes and one can choose the section one is most interested in.

Rohini, or Dolly as she is known, spent a lot of time researching this book and spoke to many relatives and old-timers who had cooked in the palaces. Born in India and married into a prominent Rana family, her husband is former Chief of Army Staff, Gaurav Shumshere JB Rana.  They are from the family of prime minister Chandra Shumshere and their family durbar has now become Babar Mahal Revisited, a favorite haunt of tourists and Nepalis alike and well restored by her brother-in-law Gautam Shumshere and architect Eric Theophile.

Dolly used to run a restaurant there and it is still well worth a visit. Also in the same complex is the renowned French restaurant ‘Chez Caroline’ and so one can taste food from two continents. Many do, for the complex has many interesting stores and one can well while away a full day. But back to the book.

One memorable recipe is number six, which is chicken pulao. The thing that should be noted is that until the early 70s the Ranas did not eat chicken, which was thought to be ‘bitulo’. They would have eaten ‘kasiko pulao’ but of course nowadays chicken is accepted and goat meat is darned expensive. How have the times changed! Of course partridge pulao was another favorite and still is if one can get the birds.

This recipe was provided by Dolly’s uncle-in-law Sagar Shumshere, and now we should remember what good cooks Rana men tended to be. Probably because in the past they spent so much time in army camps without people to cook. Brahmins were the chief cooks because of the sacredness of rice but not all Brahmin men would join the army. Whatever, Rana men were good cooks, some of them still are. Why not when they had all the best ingredients at their disposal.

A sine qua non, especially for marriages and rice feeding ceremonies, appears in recipe 16. It is, of course, wild boar. In the old days pork was forbidden as ‘bitulo’ but strangely the wild pig was deemed okay. These were hunted in great numbers in the Tarai, but would later be captured and kept in the palaces, fed for pending feasts. A wedding without wild boar was a flop before it started.

Recipe 16 gives you fried wild boar, a great treat. Dolly got this recipe from brother-in-law Nanda Rana and just reading how it is made makes the mouth water.

Mutton Gravy, which is number 24, is from the family of Padma Shumshere and contributed by Colonel Jeevan Thapa, son of Padma’s granddaughter. This goes to show how far these recipes were handed down and the painstaking research that Dolly conducted.

Chicken potato chops (recipe 44) are great on picnics. Given by Sangita Rana it was provided by her maid Savita.

Recipe 66, green pea lentils, provided by Rama Malla, favorite daughter of Padma Shumshere and owner of Malla Hotel, is a recipe that will probably be appreciated by Asians and Europeans alike. Green pea lentils are the ones most commonly exported after all.

Next I recommend the vegetable medley or ‘mis mas’ provided by Jaya Rajya Laxmi Shah of Shah Mahal, daughter of Samrajya Shumshere, and actually one of the best cooks ever. Try this recipe, do.

Now we come to recipe 103, one of my favorites, beaten rice with either meat or vegetables, a great tea-time snack. Never mind tea time, it’s good any time. Try it.

My final choice is recipe 115, another favorite and good with 103. It is black charcoal grilled tomato pickle, provided again by my favorite cook Jaya Shah of Shah Mahal. This was actually one of the things I first learned to make on arriving in Nepal.

All in all, Dolly has done a splendid job in bringing so many recipes together. Now they can be handed down. After all so many things were destroyed in public anger against the Ranas, which was not always justified. After all those who destroy history destroy the future. What is the future but our past improved?

I recommend this book for the wonderful recipes but also for Dolly’s careful recording of the past. We may never live like a Rana, but with this book we can at least eat like one.

South Indian cinema just amazes me. Right when I feel I’ve watched everything on offer, it brings out a new gem to add to my list of favorites. And the variety, from action stars punching the souls out of villains to anti-heroes desperately victimized by the system, there is so much to watch, enjoy and even relate to.

In the past few years of watching both industrialized as well as independent films in Tamil, Telugu, Malayali and Kannada languages, I can without a second’s thought say that films from South India have more originality, authenticity and variety than the offerings of Bollywood.

Released over a week ago on Netflix, the Tamil-language film “Aelay”, a comedy-drama centered on love-hate relationship between a father and a son, is another addition to the south’s diversity. Originally produced for theaters, the film had to bear the brunt of the Covid-19 pandemic that pushed back its post-production, forcing it into a TV premiere in February 2021 before its release on Netflix.

A young Parthi (Manikandan) returns to his rural village from the city on hearing the news of his father’s demise. The popularity of his deceased father Muthukkutty (Samuthirakani)—an iced0popsicles vendor in the village—waxes and wanes because of his erratic habits. Muthukkuty is not only the village’s popsicles vendor, but also a mischievous conman who has villagers wary of his antics. Again, people love him for his simplicity and helpfulness in times of need.

We also learn within the first few scenes that the motherless Parthi does not have normal relationship with his father who raised him as a single parent. Parthi blames his father for his neglected childhood and doesn’t seem much disturbed at his demise. Instead, he seems more troubled with the marriage of his distraught lover Nachiya (Madhumathi) happening in the village at the same time as his father’s funeral.

Aelay, told between the present and the past, starts like a regular funeral film where the living celebrates the life of the deceased with a lot of flashbacks. But by half time, there is a major twist that changes the whole story and leaves the audience bewildered. Writer and director Halitha Shameem has ensured the film doesn’t get too dark while maintaining a high humor quotient.

Based on a story that starts simple and then complicates as things progress, the screenplay of Aelay consistently reminds the audience that the film will not let them settle comfortably. It uses the whole village to create characters that contribute to the story. Yes, the film centers on Muthykutty-Parthi father-son relationship, but it also branches out to show relationships between friends, extended families and neighbors.

While the rest of the cast contributes its fair share to the film, it’s definitely the lead actors’ performances that help a non-glamourous, lifelike story shine on the screen. Both Samuthikarani and Manikandan fit the film’s script. I haven’t personally followed Manikandan much but Samuthikarani has been impressive in almost all his movies I have watched so far. The actor is a prime example of the versatility of South Indian cinema and with Aelay, he just adds another feather in his cap. 

The only pinching let-down is the film length. For a story based entirely in a small village with a small number of characters and no over-dramatization, Aelay’s length of 2hrs 33mins feels rather stretched, especially in the second half. If a film feels long on an OTT where the option of fast-forwarding is right there, one can only imagine how it would be in a theater.

Who should watch it?

The length is not bothersome at all for Aelay’s story, screenplay and acting. This is a feel-good comedy that a lot of Nepali audiences can enjoy and given the similarities in our social constructs, and also relate to.

Rating: 3.5 stars

Genre: Comedy, drama

Actors: Manikandan, Samuthirakani

Director: Halitha Shameem

Run time: 2hrs 33mins 

When I first read about the Indians planning to make a movie adaptation of Paula Hawkins’ 2015 bestselling novel “The Girl on the Train” a couple of years ago, I was pretty excited. Then when I read Pareeniti Chopra would be starring, the excitement waned a little. I’m not sure but maybe that’s what happened to most of the audience as the film opened on Netflix on February 26 without the slightest buzz, before or after.

Ribhu Dasgupta directs and writes the Hindi-language adaptation of the British whodunit produced under the banner of Reliance Entertainment. With a huge banner backing up the production and a tested story set in London, the film could have been molded into an unsettling thriller for the international audience. Instead, the makers chose to take a narrow path and tried to Bollywoodify the movie, making a harrowing caricature of a mystery film, one of those that are quickly forgotten by the audience.

Mira Kapoor (Parineeti Chopra), a London-based criminal lawyer has an accident that causes a miscarriage and changes her life forever. Because of the trauma, the otherwise strongheaded Mira gets diagnosed with anterograde amnesia—a condition where the patient cannot convert a short-term memory into long-term memory. The condition worsens as Mira takes to alcohol to deal with the stress and hence her relationship with her husband Dr. Shekhar Kapoor (Avinash Tiwary) comes to an end.

A distraught Mira then spends her time traveling around in the local train every day, watching the world outside from the window. On her multiple journeys through London, Mira one day spots Nusrat John (Aditi Rao Hydari), at her home in Greenwich. In Nusrat, Mira sees her past. She sees Nusrat as a woman living a perfect life. Given her condition, Mira attaches herself to Nusrat’s life and when she senses that Nusrat’s perfect life might have an anomaly after all, she decides to take matters in her own hands. That’s when she gets involved in a murder she has no memory of, and is pursued relentlessly by Inspector Dalbir Kaur Bagga (Kirti Kulhari).

This will probably sound strange but The Girl on the Train, a film made by Indians in England, lacks diversity. In Bollywood’s England, everyone is Indian. Or at least everyone understands Hindi perfectly, be it brown, black or white folks. The makers of this film seem to come from the same schooling. And this is not the only creative blunder that the filmmakers partake in.

The film’s characters are so banally written that almost everyone seems like they’re acting in a spoof. Take Kulhari’s Inspector Bagga for example. Inspector Bagga is a London cop who functions like she’s in Mumbai or Delhi. She starts interrogating suspects whenever she pleases and even slaps them at will. And in a crime mystery with multiple suspects, there’s not a single mention of a lawyer. The filmmakers seem to forget that OTT audiences have access to international cinema and these yesteryear Bollywood theatrics will not go down well with them.

Maybe bad writing is the reason behind the otherwise talented Kulhari’s lackluster performance. Kulhari tries too hard to become a strict London cop. So hard that her struggle is both visible and painful to watch.

Talk about struggling, one can definitely sense the struggle in Chopra’s efforts too. The Girl on the Train is Chopra’s most prominent role thus far in her career and gives her plenty of screen time. But as the 2h long film progresses, we realize she cannot make the best of what’s given to her. I personally would blame the lazy writing more than Chopra, but still, after years spent in Bollywood, the audience definitely expects better performance from her.

Who should watch it?

I fear I might have been a little too critical of the movie, specially coming to it straight from the Luxembourgish thriller “Capitani.” So I think, The Girl on the Train with all its Bollywoodish devices could be a decent watch for audience who enjoy ‘soft core’ thrillers. But for the more serious audience for whom all aspects need to make sense in a movie, you better stay at the platform itself.