The Girl Who Played With Fire

Sequels usually discourage me; however, I had an unbearable itch to get my hands on this book even before I was done with the first one.

If reading the first book was like that whiff of fresh air just before the rain, this one felt like riding the eye of the storm.

Mikael Blomkvist and Lisbeth Salander are back -  albeit not on talking terms with each other - Lisbeth is named as the prime suspect in a series of gory murders and Mikael takes it upon himself to prove to the world that she's innocent.



They say the most complex whodunits have a really simple answer. An answer so simple, you wonder why you didn't see through it rightaway. The entire mystery whirlpools around a man named Zala, a man no one has seen, no one has heard of, and yet somehow his name is linked to a plethora of damning crimes.

Lisbeth Salander is as impossible as ever; from being a fugitive from law, to being shot in the head and buried alive, Salander does it all. I wonder what it is about this scrawny, crazy, rude, and headstrong girl that makes one want to protect her, though she is hell-bent on alienating everyone on earth.

There are quite a few new characters introduced - off the top of my head, Inspector Bublanski, Inspector Modig, Faste, Peter Teleborian, Bjorck, and so many other characters I cannot remember all their names. Unlike other books where these characters are sidelined and the main character is given prime importance, Steig Larsson makes sure all of them get their due.

And, there is Mikael, of course - one more addition to my dreamboy wishlist ;-) Mind you, he is not your run-of-the-mill action hero with a Greek God physique. Fiftyish, greying hair, bespectacled playboy suits him the best, if ever there was one such.

People, this book is un-putdownable right from the start. I promptly purchased Book 03 online, and completed this one by staying up all night.

Stay tuned for the third book of the series, The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest. Coming soon.

Help! Haiti Campaign

The recent disastrous Haiti earthquake has left a lot of hapless people in its wake - and it is up to us to help them. The earthquake that claimed a staggering 200,000 lives has left more than 250,000 people injured, and around 1.5 million homeless. Though relief efforts are going on, adequate help hasn't reached the survivors yet.

SocialTwist has launched a Help Haiti campaign that enables your brand to donate funds to the quake victims. You can create your own Help! Haiti campaign, with SocialTwist bearing all the infrastructure costs. You can know more details and register for your campaign by clicking here. You can also request for more information by sending an email to helphaiti@socialtwist.com.

About SocialTwist - SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend is a world leader in referral marketing products. With a client list including the likes of Disney GAP, Barnes&Noble, Monster, NDTV, Intel, KLM, and many more, Tell-a-Friend is poised on the brink of bringing in a new era of referral marketing.

Breast Cancer Awareness - By revealing bra color?!

Yes folks, you can increase awareness about breast cancer - by revealing the color of your bra on your Facebook status :-|

God knows how this fad came into being, but I personally feel this is insulting to people - in the sense that people are updating their status message to titillate, rather than for any other reason. Some examples I found in my own Facebook page - black and grey zebra stripes, bright red, magenta, and this one from a humor-loving soul - commando! Believe me, for families with breast cancer victims, this is simply not funny.  And how exactly is this helping, anyway? Apart from garnering a few "XYZ and 10 other people like this!"s, some rather questionable comments, ooohs, LOLs, and other irritating compliments, this trend does nothing.

Please, gurls - Trends are good, being "in" is good, but hey, do not follow every Tom, Dick, and Harry trend that comes your way! Have fun - I am a firm believer of having fun anytime, anywhere - but no, not like this. If people are so very keen on helping, then do something worthwhile.

And no, that doesn't include letting the world know the color of your undies, thank you very much.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

It was with mixed feelings that I picked up this book at Landmark... And boy, did I take the right decision! Folks, I finally completed the first book of the Millennium Trilogy. And all I can say is, I can't wait to ravage the next one! Set at a breakneck pace, this compulsive whodunit really did it for me;-) I spent a couple of sleepless nights over it, itching to get to the end and find out who did it, after all.

Mikael Blomkvist is a disgraced financial journalist who has been summoned to a small village in the back of beyond, to meet a 80-year old former industrial giant. He is entrusted with the strangest investigation he might ever have come across - to find out who in the family murdered his beloved grand-niece Harriet, about 40-odd years earlier. What seems like an impossible quest soon turns out to be one hell of a ride - Mikael finds out bits and pieces of the puzzle, and unearths alarming, and spine-chilling facts about the family that make the monster Frankenstein look like a saint.

I had reached that point in the story where I began to believe that Blomkvist was the protagonist, the hero, blah blah, when Lisbeth Salander made her presence known. The full force of Lisbeth Salander's character hits you with within five minutes of her entrance; trying to actually describe her is an exercise in futility.  The most unconventional heroine I've ever come across, Lisbeth's entrance marks the point in the novel that makes it un-put-downable, and the story begins to race. Riveting is the word how the book can be described; this one is a must-read for all suspense and thriller buffs.

I don't want to reveal too much of the story here, so people, take me at my word - if you haven't already, then go out and get it. This one's a keeper. The girl, the dragon tattoo, and of course, the book. ;-)

Telangana and Me

Politics is not a topic that interests me; I guess this is the very first post in my blog concerning politics of any sort. But then, this is the very first time politics have affected me so personally.

November Rain

Somehow, rain always makes me feel like curling up in a chair by the window, with a cup of coffee in hand, and an old book; walking in the rain was something I never even considered doing. A couple of days ago, when it started raining, I decided to forgo my usual cuppa and head out for a walk. It was dusk - that time of the day when people like to snuggle on their couches with the TV remote.

I had barely walked a few steps when I saw these kids squatting by a small pool the rain had made, paper boats in hand. I was hit almost immediately by a wave of nostalgia; my own childhood, the days of getting drenched in the rain oblivious to the screams, rants and threats of my parents; running down the street with friends, following eagerly the paths of our paper boats meandering their way through the rivulets of rain.

I realized that as I grew up I slowly forgot to appreciate life's smaller joys; the joys that made my entire childhood so much more memorable. The joy of running home after school at full speed, with that lightness in the heart that another day of lessons was finally over. The joy of playing in the street with other brats, oblivious to passers-by, oblivious to the dirt, oblivious to time, oblivious to everything. The joy when my gran used to make my favorite dish without my asking, and the joy that came when I knew I could have as much as I wanted to :D The joy of finding a sparrow's nest right inside the house, and accepting those tiny birds as a part of the family; the joy of making stupid faces and shouting at the top of my voice (as loudly as my lungs would allow it) just for the heck of it, knowing full well that none in the family would even bat an eyelid ;-)

I wonder how many of these joys are possible now without raising eyebrows. I hope as we grow older we appreciate these tiny experiences, maybe take a few moments out of our day to remember them, and tell ourselves that life is not that serious after all. It's just as serious as we want it to be.

What's in a name? Lots!

What the hell is in a name, Shakespeare might have said.

I disagree, having spent more than three hours searching a name for my new blog. It was like my blog was jinxed; every single darn name I tried was already taken. In my desperation I started trying out song names - no luck. Even www.noname.blogspot.com was taken, for Chrissakes! Cmon! And even more exasperating was the fact that many of these blogs seemed to have been started on a spurt of creativity, and then pushed back into the recesses of the blogger's minds. Lot many had just a single post on em, dating back to as far as 2001. In blogging terms, they might as well have been created during the B.C. period!

I had planned on starting a blog about interesting things happening in the digital world - could be anything, ranging from appealing, out-of-the-box websites, to start-ups, to any interesting news, whatever. I most especially did not want my name in the URL. Finally, after a lot of head banging, cursing, contemplative minutes later I hit on this - kreativeblitzkrieg.

Yeah, I know, it cant get worse than this one. So please, guys, if you've got any suggestions, do let me know. Mucho appreciated.

Smokey Smokersons

No, this is not some new hookah or cigar joint. Am talking about the dreaded smoke emitting, fume spitting, soot enveloped vehicles rampant on the streets of Hyderabad. God forbid that you get stuck behind one such monster during rush hour; you might end up choking, suffocating, and cursing your bike, due to which you are being made to endure such torture. It's a damn wonder why no action is ever, ever taken against these poisons. The traffic police obligingly stop every other person on a bike and demand to see each and every document under the sun (including our insurance papers, dammit!) failing which they subtly ask for a couple of hundred bucks. Catch hold of these bozos, for a change!

My eyes are almost always red-rimmed by the time I reach office, triggering rumors that I might be a crybaby. Pssst, I bet she's the sort who's been crying since childhood about not going to school, college, and now, the office, heh. No, guys! Not me! Anyways, I have no idea whether such constant exposure to the smoke might affect my eyes; I know for sure it's affecting my nerves. I bite back all the dirty swears that rise to my lips when I get a gust of thick black smoke blown directly into my face. And go home fuming. No wonder I'm not able to get any fairer, heh. I wish to God there was some solution to this; sadly, apart from moving permanently to a village that knows only bullock carts, I dont see any light on the horizon.