...An (Updated) Charity Appeal Of Sorts

One of the few things that Lahore used to lag behind Pindi in was that you could find Wodehouses in Pindi. In my half a dozen trips to Lahore during my five years in Med School,I'd searched every bookstore I'd gone to for Plums. They either didn't stock him, or had only his school stories, or rarely, a novel that I already had. Pindi on the other hand, took the cake because every old-book shop had at least one Wodehouse. I'll grant that 98.5% of the time, they were the ones I already have, but still....

On my penultimate Lahore trip however, the pattern changed. Not only did I find two new Wodehouses, but also a book I was looking for for a long while (Is two 'for's correct?), namely Richard Usbourne's "Wodehouse At Work To The End". This temporarily stopped me from losing all faith in humanity. When I finally shifted from Pindi to Lahore, things took a turn for the better and Readings (the greatest bookstore ever) decided to stock a truckload of Plums. Out of that truckload, I managed to find another half-dozen that were missing from my bookshelf.

At last count, I have 56 Wodehouse books, along with 25 more in e-book format, which leaves me (according to David Jasen's brilliant "P.G. Wodehouse,A Portrait of The Master") with 16 more before I break even. Judging from the time it took me to get to 56, factoring in the decreasing odds of finding one I don't already have, I figure it'll take me 15 odd years to get to a complete set. And even if I count the 25 odd ones I can find online,that's too long a wait. Drastic measures are needed if I'm to get anywhere near my goal of reading all of the Master's work, and I've thought of one drastic measure that might go some way in helping me ...

This is a Wodehouse appeal. I'll list all the Wodehouse books that I haven't got or I can't find online, and if anyone has any of these books, printed, as part of an omnibus, in e-book form or otherwise I'd be ultra-indebted if they could share it with me. A photocopy, a scan, an e-book, a book-in-the-mail which I'll solemnly promise to return, or an old fashioned sale (at an extra 10% commission), anywhichway it may be, it'll be immensely appreciated.

• Bill The Conqueror
• If I Were You
• Louder And Funnier
• Doctor Sally
• Nothing Serious
• The Old Reliable
• Bring On The Girls
• Performing Flea
• French Leave
• America,I Like You
• Something Fishy
• A Few Quick Ones
• Plum Pie
• Do Butlers Burgle Banks?
• The Girl In Blue
• Pearls,Girls And Monty Bodkin
• Bachelors Anonymous

           
            Here's to a successful experiment...

P.S Thanks to the generosity of friends and readers, I am now in a position to cross a few books off the list. At this rate, I'll be able to cross off quite a few pretty darn soon.
P.P.S I'm down to the final 10, it's the home stretch folks !!
 

P.S ... Of Infernos

Dame Nellie Melba announced her retirement from singing opera in 1920, announcing she'd go on one final farewell tour. She completed that tour, then another one, then another one and then at least a dozen more "farewell" tours until finally giving her last performance in 1928.

When I wrote the rather hastily written farewell in my last post, I had an inkling that I might have to reconsider. I am in the process of reconsidering now and any and all of these, my "Melba farewell" posts will be in the form of postscripts till the either/or situation of me giving up for good/writing actively again arises.

In The Divine Comedy, Dante mentions the 9 circles of hell, or "Inferno" with the 9th reserved for the most malicious sins imaginable. What he fails to mention is the secret 10th and most viciously horrendous circle "l'interrogatorio" - the examinification.

The 21 days spent preparing for them, the 11 days that I've been busy in them and the 10 days that remain have convinced me that there is no greater torture; mental, physical and indeed gastronomical, that can compare to examinations. And the absolute cherry on the cake is that these aren't even the finals. The mind boggles at what new horrors they will bring.

Ramazan has added another variable to the already tangled up equation making it necessary to mould the gargantuan study schedule around sehr, iftaar and hypoglycaemia. Add to that the nightly ritual of drinking the burnt-cockroach-extract that passes off as coffee in the hostel cafeteria and forces you to shower at least twice lest the steam building up between one's ears turn the already gumbo'd grey matter to an evanescent vapor, and you've got a furture looking as grim as a Weight-Watchers Sunday Picnic.

As half my hostel knows by now, I've rediscovered Qawwali in the last 2 months. With a little help from my friends, and the ever helpful internet, I've managed to gather some 6 gigabytes of brilliant recordings from what have quickly become some of my favorite artists. I was already quite a fan of the Sabri Brothers since childhood, with 3 or 4 of their qawwalis ubiquitous on PTV. But the absolute wealth of stuff I found over the internet has completely blown me over.


Another name that I was familiar with but hadn't had the chance to hear was Munshi Raziuddin Khan - a pre-eminent qawwal from the greatest gharana of them all, the "Qawwal Bacchhon Ka Gharana" from Delhi. When I finally got hold of some of his recordings, they were all that I had expected and much more. The Sabris and Munshi sahib currently share top billing as my favorite Qawwals.

Then there's Nusrat, about whom no words can suffice, so I won't waste any. I'm trying to upload one recording each from these three artists, and if there's no hitch, I hope readers (if any) can get to hear something that's been sustaining me over the last two months.

First, the Sabri Brothers singing Iqbal...


And then there's Nusrat singing Bulleh Shah...




There's nothing that perks me up more than something to look forward to, and thankfully there's plenty of those on the horizon. First of all, there's the mother of all things-to-look-forward-to, a new Dylan album. This time the old coot's gone and confounded everyone by announcing an album of Christmas standards in the vein of Elvis, Bing Crosby and The Beatles. A very un-21st-century-rocker move, but then Bobby's always been a tad old fashioned.


The second, albeit distant glimmer on the horizon is the upcoming Tim Burton production of Alice In Wonderland. I don't think I have to say any more than this.


1. It releases on my birthday next year.
2. Johnny Depp is the Mad Hatter.
3.Stephen Fry is the Cheshire Cat......talk about perfect casting.


Even though when the movie is released, I'll be celebrating my birthday wearing 20 kgs of kit, doing one-armed push ups in a muddy ditch somewhere in PMA, the very thought that I'll have Alice to come home to will be a more than welcome birthday gift.


Finally, a word about the Wodehouse charity appeal that I posted 8 months ago. A ton of thanks to all the marvelous friends and relatives who've been generous beyond belief, you know who you are. With your ultra-Pickwickian benevolence, you've managed to a) Bring me to within 10 books of completing my Wodehouse collection, and b) make me your slave for life. I'll try and start finding ways to repay all those who've sent books, or directed me to bookstores or encouraged me, just as soon as my exams are done....

Finally, Munshi Raziuddin and Sons ...


Songs Of The Past Two Months, "Uss Bewafaa Ka Shehr Hai",Naseem Begum, "Can't Buy me Love",Peter Sellers
Movies Of The Past Two Months, "Aguirre:The Wrath Of God","Fitzcarraldo","Encounters At The End Of The World",Werner Herzog.
Books Of The Past Two Months, Don't ask.

...A Charity Appeal Of Sorts.

          One of the few things that Lahore used to lag behind Pindi was that you could find Wodehouses in Pindi. In my half a dozen trips to Lahore over the past three odd years,I'd searched every bookstore I'd gone to for Wodehouse. They either didn't stock him, or had only his school stories, or rarely, a novel that I already had. Pindi on the other hand, takes the cake because every old book shop has at least one Wodehouse. I'll grant that 98.5% of the time, they're the ones I already have, but still ....

          On this past week's Lahore trip however, the pattern changed. Not only did I find two new Wodehouses, but also a book I was looking for for a long while (Is two 'for's correct?), namely Richard Usbourne's "Wodehouse At Work To The End". This has stopped me from losing all faith in humanity, and has made me think up a plan. At last count, I have 53 Wodehouse books which leaves me (according to David Jasen's brilliant "P.G. Wodehouse,A Portrait of The Master") with 47 more before I break even.

          Judging from the time it took me to get to 53 ,plus factoring in the decreasing odds of finding one I don't already have, I figure it'll take me 15 odd years to get to a complete set. And even if I count the 25 odd ones I can find online,that's a bit too long a wait.Drastic measures are needed if I'm to get anywhere near my goal of reading all of Wodehouse, and I've thought of one that might go some way in helping me ...

          This is a Wodehouse appeal. I'll list all the Wodehouse books that I haven't got or I can't find online, and if anyone has any of these books, printed, as part of an omnibus, in e-book form or otherwise I'd be ultra-indebted if they could share it with me. A photocopy, an e-book, a book-in-the-mail which I'll solemnly promise to return, or an old fashioned sale (at an extra 10% commission), anywhichway it may be, it'll be immensely appreciated.

             Bill The Conqueror
             If I Were You
             Louder And Funnier
             Doctor Sally
             Mulliner Nights
             Young Men In Spats
             Nothing Serious
             The Old Reliable
             Bring On The Girls
             Performing Flea
             French Leave
             America,I Like You
             Something Fishy
             A Few Quick Ones
             Service With A Smile
             Galahad At Blandings
             Plum Pie
             Do Butlers Burgle Banks?
             A Pelican At Blandings
             The Girl In Blue
             Pearls,Girls And Monty Bodkin
             Bachelors Anonymous
             The Uncollected Wodehouse
             Sunset At Blandings ........

            Here's to a successful experiment

...Of Me And P.G. Wodehouse...

(This is an older post,but one that can fit into this series of touchstones.I didn't have anything to add,so I'll put it here in its entirety)

In our farmhouse,there's this big red trunk.It is full of my father's bibliomaniacal treasures.Scores upon scores of books,of every description,size and shape.some of the best hours of my village visits are spent browsing through it,and each expedition brings forth new gems.As I grow older,my finds have ranged from Huckleberry Finn to Ben Hur to Bertrand Russel to Rousseau.But there is one find that I count among the best things that ever happened to me,truly a liofe changing experience..

It was eight years ago,as far as I can recall.Having derived all the possible pleasure out of watching a bunch of supercillious cows,I decided to rummage the big red trunk.I climbed up to the top of the storage room,opened it up and started digging.After about half an hour of dilligent mayhem,I chanced upon a funny looking book.It was "The Girl On The Boat",by one P.G. Wodehouse.so,I took it out,lay on the bed and started reading.


It was five minutes into the read that something happened.Something strange.Suddenly,I was laughing,uncontrollably,hysterically and violently.Lolling around on the bed,with tears in my eyes,trying to stop my guts from busting.I just couldn't stop,try as I might.My mother gaped at this strange apparition and ran to call my father just as I fell from my bed and tumbled to the ground,still guffawing like the dickens...My mom wrenched the book from my hands and anxiously showed it to dad,holding it ever so gingerly like it was a deadly poison or something.A look of apprehension gave way to comprehension,as an understanding smile spread on my father's face and he said,"Relax Farree(my mum's name),it's just Wodehouse !!

"It's just Wodehouse,talk about an understatement.From that moment on,I have been enthralled by the Master's works,lost in the beauty,intricacy and complexity of his language,and laughing my guts out at every other page.Once I got hooked,there wasn't any stopping me.Every library and bookshop I visited was with the sole intention of getting my grimy hands on some Wodehouse.It was a slow journey,and uptill four years ago,I had managed to get only five Wodehouse books.But that was before i got to ******(name protected for reasons of secrecy).As I entered the library,my jaw fell as I saw rows upon rows of Wodehouse books.Just lying there in a cold damp corner.

Over the next two years,I read each and every one of them again and again and again.Then it was time to move to some new place,but my wicked mind couldn't bear the thought of letting all these treasures stay behind.So in a feat worthy of Jesse James and Robin Hood,I did what any right minded collector would do.That's right,I STOLE THE BLOODY LOT !!!!!

Over the course of five days,I smuggled a total of thrty six books from thye library to my home and hid them.The only reason I'm not in a kaboos is that the library staff were so negligent that they didn't even know those books existed in the first place.So,I had a sizeable stash,but some were left behind,and there they lie to this day.And each day my heart bleeds at the thought of those that were left behind.But not to be outdone,I went there again this month.Just walked in with an airy nonchalance,nodded to the librarian,went to my old spot ....and shoved a couple more in my trousers.Then it was the walk back,again giving the librarian the most angelic of glances and walking gingerly so as not to drop my strategically placed load and I was out !!!


Now ,the Master wrote ninety books in total,and finally after years of collecting,I almost managed to break par yesterday.That is,I bought(didn't steal for a change) my 45th Wodehouse book.Almost,because belive it or not,just like in a Wodehouse story...somebody's stolen it !!!!


Song Of The Week,"Most Likely You'll Go Your Way,Bob Dylan
Movie Of The Week,"The Last Waltz
Book Of The week,"Sula",Toni Morrisson

...Of Nostalgia ??

Nostalgia ?
No,that's not it.
Isn't nostalgia for the times you've lived through ?
For things you've seen,things you've felt in your own lifetime.
Yet these things are not mine.
These snippets of song,these flashes of light and dark.


I was not there when they shot Lincoln,
Or was I?
So why do I have a faint recollection;a gunshot,a scream,a bounding leap.
Sic Semper Tyrannis !!
Or when they shot Oswald,or Garfield or Wild Bill Hickock...


When they first showed Nosferatu,or Casblanca or Pyaasa.
I wasn't among the teeming crowds.
I wasn't in the art-house cinemas where Bergman The Lion roared,
While the audience smoked and tried to deconstruct his pain.
These grainy relics are not mine.


When Rafi cooed in Bombay,I wasn't there to listen,
Nor was I with Cash,or ol' Muddy,or Bob 'n Joanie.
But I was there..
I tell you I was there,right beside her,right beside them all.
But how's that possible,and why am I missing them ??


I've never been to Wooster's London,or Lake Wobegon.
Then why is it that all my friends live there.
Long gone friends,long dead friends.
But still alive,still full of elan.


If these aren't my memories,why are they mine?
Why are these foreign emotions more personal than my own ??
And why do I sit staring at them,staring at the dates,
1915,1931,1962,1865.
My own life seeming trivial before these swathes of time...


It can't be nostalgia,can it?Isn't nostalgia supposed to be personal?Well,this is personal,isn't it ??

Of Breaking Even,Almost !!!

In our farmhouse,there's this big red trunk.It is full of my father's bibliomaniacal treasures.Scores upon scores of books,of every description,size and shape.some of the best hours of my village visits are spent browsing through it,and each expedition brings forth new gems.As I grow older,my finds have ranged from Huckleberry Finn to Ben Hur to Bertrand Russel to Rousseau.But there is one find that I count among the best things that ever happened to me,truly a liofe changing experience..

It was eight years ago,as far as I can recall.Having derived all the possible pleasure out of watching a bunch of supercillious cows,I decided to rummage the big red trunk.I climbed up to the top of the storage room,opened it up and started digging.After about half an hour of dilligent mayhem,I chanced upon a funny looking book.It was "The Girl On The Boat",by one P.G. Wodehouse.so,I took it out,lay on the bed and started reading.

It was five minutes into the read that something happened.Something strange.Suddenly,I was laughing,uncontrollably,hysterically and violently.Lolling around on the bed,with tears in my eyes,trying to stop my guts from busting.I just couldn't stop,try as I might.My mother gaped at this strange apparition and ran to call my father just as I fell from my bed and tumbled to the ground,still guffawing like the dickens...My mom wrenched the book from my hands and anxiously showed it to dad,holding it ever so gingerly like it was a deadly poison or something.A look of apprehension gave way to comprehension,as an understanding smile spread on my father's face and he said,"Relax Farree(my mum's name),it's just Wodehouse !!"

It's just Wodehouse,talk about an understatement.From that moment on,I have been enthralled by the Master's works,lost in the beauty,intricacy and complexity of his language,and laughing my guts out at every other page.Once I got hooked,there wasn't any stopping me.Every library and bookshop I visited was with the sole intention of getting my grimy hands on some Wodehouse.It was a slow journey,and uptill four years ago,I had managed to get only five Wodehouse books.But that was before i got to ******(name protected for reasons of secrecy).As I entered the library,my jaw fell as I saw rows upon rows of Wodehouse books.Just lying there in a cold damp corner.

Over the next two years,I read each and every one of them again and again and again.Then it was time to move to some new place,but my wicked mind couldn't bear the thought of letting all these treasures stay behind.So in a feat worthy of Jesse James and Robin Hood,I did what any right minded collector would do.That's right,I STOLE THE BLOODY LOT !!!!!

Over the course of five days,I smuggled a total of thrty six books from thye library to my home and hid them.The only reason I'm not in a kaboos is that the library staff were so negligent that they didn't even know those books existed in the first place.So,I had a sizeable stash,but some were left behind,and there they lie to this day.And each day my heart bleeds at the thought of those that were left behind.But not to be outdone,I went there again this month.Just walked in with an airy nonchalance,nodded to the librarian,went to my old spot ....and shoved a couple more in my trousers.Then it was the walk back,again giving the librarian the most angelic of glances and walking gingerly so as not to drop my strategically placed load and I was out !!!

Now ,the Master wrote ninety books in total,and finally after years of collecting,I almost managed to break par yesterday.That is,I bought(didn't steal for a change) my 45th Wodehouse book.Almost,because belive it or not,just like in a Wodehouse story...somebody's stolen it !!!!


Movie Of The Week:"The Adventures Of Robin Hood (1937)"
Song Of The Week:'Allah Tero Naam',Lata Mangeshkar'