
Writer, researcher, scientist and mom, with an occasional flair for being a rascal. I live and work in beautiful Canberra.


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Another writer.

Mehreen Arshi


A controversial author of his time, very well known for shaking the muslim population in anger down to their very solidly embedded religious roots, by writing ‘The Satanic Verses’; Salman Rushdie also penned “Midnight’s Children”, weaving a tale that is well knitted, leaving not a tiny hole or a single stitch missed in the fabric of the narrative. One can still disagree with a person’s ideology and opinions, without losing respect for their craft. This is the very thought that prompted me to read ‘Midnight’s Children’.

It is an epic tale which encapsulates the events before and after the partition of the Indian subcontinent into Pakistan and India; a division slicing the land based on the ideologies and religious beliefs of its occupants. The protagonist, Saleem Sinai who is born at midnight on August 15, 1947, at the very same moment as the birth of his nation. Saleem believes that his and all the other children’s fate, all born in the midnight hour, is sealed along with their nation’s; they are destined for great things. It is a tale of how Saleem and Mother India grow together and how their lives progress despite repeatedly being shaken, and their fight against their fate.

Salman Rushdie paints an emotionally and thematically vivid picture, showcasing his full command over all five senses expertly incorporated in the writing. The flying of spittle juice, the humming of Mian Abdullah, the leitmotif ‘whatsitsname’ of Reverend Mother, the blood and mercurochrome stains drop the reader in the middle of the setting and familiarise them with the characters. We immediately know that the crawling mountains, blue skies and frozen lakes means we are in Kashmir. Rushdie has proven himself to be an expert in designating physical attributes to almost all of his characters. The descriptions of peculiar physical features not only cement the characters in the reader’s minds, but also sketch their personality. We only need to read the words 'centre parting of hair’ to know that the author is taking about Methwold, the ‘powerful knees’ always refer to Shiva, and ‘rhymeless and wordless poet means’ Nadir the impotent lover. There are as many characters in the book as possibly the number of pages. The constant reference to physical characteristics keeps the narrative moving without the reader having to turn the pages back and forth. The imagery created with descriptive words marks each character vividly and the reader is able to keep pace without confusion.

This book is a fine sample of magic realism. The tone is set with this theme in the very beginning by saying that the boatman Tai is hundreds of years old and how a blind man is an avid admirer of art. These are things beyond belief and questionable, but because the theme is set form the beginning, we never doubt Saleem Sinai’s telepathic link with all the other children born on the same night as the birth of their nation, or Saleem’s nose being able to sniff out not only smells but also fears and emotions, or the fact that Saleem as a baby never closes his eyes or blinks.

The reference to the silver spittoon with lapus lazuli is symbolic. It is a relic of the past that ties the protagonist Saleem Sinai to his mother, her past and his own present. The constant reference of an old spittoon carefully cherished and passed on with time also acts as a symbolic reminder that time changes, life changes, life also ends, but the pieces of the past can continue to survive, pass on to different owners and witness all the changes come to life. People are connected through chains of events, history remains long after we have vanquished. The silver spittoon survives three generations while Saleem’s family is wiped clean from the earth.

As I mentioned, this book is a recap of historic events that spanned the mid of the twentieth century, Rushdie’s style of writing ensures that one does not find the trip down history’s lane overwhelming or cumbersome. He has aligned these historical events with the incidents that occur in Saleem’s life in a manner that does not interrupt the flow of the story. Instead, the events of history and the ones in Saleem’s life are intertwined and they affect each other, and are seemingly the driving force of each others lives (or so Saleem believes).

I also started this book without a bias towards the author and his prejudices. The writing however confirmed the general view that the author possesses certain biases against certain populations of the world. This is very evident in his choice of words that are laced with cynicism when speaking of the muslim characters in his book, or when mentioning a certain nation. (I say this with no intention of starting a religious or political debate). The continuous derogatory remarks made by the Pakistani soldiers against the Indian soldiers is one such example. The hate speech by members of one army does no injustice to the image of the other army, however, it portrays the Muslims as intolerant and vengeful, and sheds a poor light on the average muslim population as a whole.

You do not have to be a fan of the author or history to read this book. Read this book if you are an admirer of literary fiction, have a love for metaphors, vividly aesthetic writing, a story with odd little details that poetically tie various ends of the narrative together with their repetitive and fulfilling appearances.

The powerful use of vivid metaphors immediately appeals to the senses; I could almost hear the voice of the old man ‘crackling like an old radio because decades were rubbing up against each other around his vocal cords’. I could feel the mountains creeping up like a ferocious wildling as I read ‘the mountains closed in and snarled like angry jaws around the city on the lake’. The blue kashmiri sky poured into the eyes, frozen diamonds, and the transformed rubies will always remind me of how a blue and teary eyed person in the freezing cold hit his nose on the ground while praying, and how in that moment he had been transformed into a non believer as the ‘valley, gloved in a prayer mat punched him on the nose.’ This book is a remarkable example of the fact that one does not read simply to get through a story; we read for the passion of words, of expression, for experiencing the author’s creative liberty. It is an art to use the same old words and arrange them in such a fresh string of array that they sing to us, long after we have finished the tale.


An intricately woven tale of India's partition, rich in magical realism and metaphors, that examines historical events through the life of its protagonist, Saleem Sinai, while also reflecting the author's evident biases.

Midnight's children - A review


What if you were unhappy with your life and given a second chance? Or a third chance? And one more after that? What if you had the opportunity to undo all of your life’s regrets; big and small? Where does one draw the line and say ‘yes I am finally content’?

What does it take to live a happy life? For some it is fame, for others it is health, wealth, knowledge, children or adventure. None of these objectives would come into play unless we have perspective - “Its not what you look at that matters, its what you see.” In a nut shell this is the message that is conveyed in “The Midnight Library” by the English author Matt Haig.

The female protagonist Nora Seed has seemingly grown in the shadow of her brother, striving and failing to live up to her father’s expectations, hopeless in love and with a non-existent career, despite several aspirations to be a musician, glaciologist, swimming champion or a professor. Drowning in the depths of despair she overdoses in an attempt to end the existential crisis that is her life and lands in the land of limbo aka as ‘The Midnight Library’. Aided by her old school librarian she navigates through different paths of her life that the library offers while undoing her regrets.

This is a simple read, as is its message. One that we as humans overlook most days. The book compels us to review our stance on what is important in life. We are so engrossed in achieving the best, being at the top that we often overlook what is in front of us, the simple things that lead to joy in our lives. We forget to live. We realise the significance of small things when they are at the brink of being snatched away, or when the angel of death is staring us in the face. Once the end is nigh it becomes glaringly obvious that it is not what we want, it is what to make of what we already have that is crucial to a happy and content life. Nora Seed is given choices, which make her realise that taking one step leads to a chain reaction of endless possibilities but there is no such thing as a perfect life. In her continuous efforts to find acceptance and love from those around her, it is time and again impressed upon her that it is hope and love that are the driving force of life, but love that doesn’t necessarily bud from companionship but starts within, with self love. If you do not love yourself, do not expect others to admire in you what you cannot appreciate in yourself.

This book is written in a very non-complex, easy to read manner. There are no heavy metaphors or complicated writing techniques to spruce up the narrative. Just like the author advocates for the simple things in life that matter the most, he promotes this deep message for the way of life in the simplest of words. It is thought provoking. “You do not have to understand life, you just have to live life.”


A reflective journey of a woman exploring alternate lives, emphasizing self-love, appreciation of simple joys, and understanding that perfection is a myth.

The Midnight Library - A review


#### Cease, cows, life is short.

Full disclaimer 1: This book will not be everyone’s cup of tea.

Full disclaimer 2: Keeping in mind the enormity of this narrative, I will only attempt to do partial justice to this review.

This book had been on my list for the last two years, sitting on my pile labeled ‘to read’. Somehow it always found its way to the bottom of the pile, bearing the load of other literature on its back that always seemed to climb up the ladder of my reading priority. It was perhaps due to the general view out there that it’s a complex read.

It is.

Now that that’s out of the way, we can talk about a book that is nothing less than a masterpiece. Written by the Columbian writer Gabriel García Márquez in 1967, it is a novel that spans over multiple generations. It is set in the town of Macondo, a fictional place so far removed from reality that people believe in flying carpets, in the magic of magnets and where ice is a wonder.

Why is this book a masterpiece? The author has set the book alive with magic realism, making the possibilities endless for imagination, for pushing the boundaries with language. He sets up the schema in such a way that it becomes possible to create events in shapes and forms that prove instrumental for portraying characters, exploring attributes that contribute to the complexity of human nature.

The beauty of this book is that it heavily relies on descriptive writing to create a powerful narrative without relying on dialogue. The dialogue is really scarce throughout the text. If you are a person who is looking for a story to read, then I would ask you to leave this book alone. However if you are someone who craves to lose themselves in the enchantment of the power of words, please go ahead and enjoy phrases such as “tying a colourful string of chatter together” or “rumble of the termites as they carved the wood” and “the snipping of the moths in the clothes closets”, language so vivid that you can almost hear the termites and moths hard at work, bringing about destruction. One of my absolute favourite lines is “The world must be all fucked up, when men travel first class and literature goes as freight.” The author’s ability to give life to inanimate objects is undeniably the most powerful tool used to impress upon the vividness of the world that he has created.

There are as many stories running in this book as there aren’t. This work is majorly a portrayal of journeys undertaken by several generations of a family who exist in each others’ presence in absolute solitude. They go around carrying the burden of life, each in their own way with their unique codes of life. However they do not remain unaffected from the actions and decisions of each other. It has a profound impact on shaping and driving the course of future generations. This is depicted in the strong metaphor Marquez uses of time going around in a circle. The characteristic traits of the family are unconsciously transcribed, adopted through heredity and translated sometimes across multiple generations, thus rendering it impossible to break the circle and making repetition of history unavoidable.

There are too many characters in the book to comment on them all. So I have picked a few to review. There is Jose Arcadio Buendia who is driven into madness with his un quenchable thirst for innovation, who sets the wheels in motion by giving rise to Macondo. There is his wife Ursula who has the undying need to set things right even in the face of calamities. The author makes a very powerful point using Ursula that as humans the understanding and comprehension of others around us doesn’t simply come about by seeing them. Our mental constructs of those around us rise from us being watchful and through the silence of observation, and not through the simple magic of sight.

Amaranta is a mighty character who spends her life nurturing with hatred the tender love she develops as a young girl. She dedicates her life and soul to the one person whom she deems responsible for snatching her love, as a result of which she tends and nurtures further passions in life, only to murder them mercilessly herself, when they become mature enough to leave the crib. It seems that her rival in love Rebecca holds onto dear life, despite her slow decay for decades, simply to spite her worthy opponent. Then there is Fernanda, she has been so miserable for so long that it has become a part of her person, she doesn’t ever notice it "Rain didn’t bother her, it had been raining all her life". She who goes through the motions of life unaffected, going through the charade meticulously just so she doesn’t have to face her misery and drown in it, perpetually avoiding the inevitable. There is such an array of complex characters that it is an enormous task attempting to do justice to all. All in all the manner in which the conclusion of the narrative has been executed is powerful in itself. It is a manifestation of the repetitive nature of life, drawing on the metaphor of time going around in circle, unless of course “it stumbles and has an accident, in which case it can splinter and leave an eternalized fragment in a room”.


A vivid, dialogue-scarce narrative, illustrating the cyclical nature of time and generational impacts within a family, brought to life through rich descriptions and complex characters.

Magical Realism

Midnight's children - A review

The Midnight Library - A review

One Hundred Years of Solitude - A review