Submit your Article

The title of the book is horrible. The cover design is equally crap. The paper quality feels weird. The font size irritated me when I riffled through the book. So why did I still pick it up? Of late, I have developed a thing for nutrition and diets. I want to understand food better and figure out what works best for my body. I don’t want to necessarily lose weight but I would like to feel agile and nourished. So, I have been reading random books and articles on the subject.

I had bought ‘Don’t Lose Your Mind, Lose Your Weight’ years ago—perhaps a couple of years after it was published. Diwekar came into limelight for helping Kareena Kapoor lose weight and prepare for her role in the Hindi movie ‘Tashan’. This was when she became a ‘size zero’ and everybody was talking about it. The book is endorsed by Kapoor who says Diwekar not just changed her body but also her mind and soul and that she is the best thing to have happened in her life.

If you want to find out how Kapoor, always a proud voluptuous Punjabi, lost so much weight then this book lets you in on those secrets as well. But there are also many other nuggets of wisdom in the book that will help you make positive choices while eating. The content of the book is not limited to what the title suggests. There is actually a lot of information that helps you make good lifestyle decisions. It also breaks many myths about diets, while opening your eyes to why starving yourself is never a good idea.

Diwekar shows you that you need to have a healthy relationship with food. A diet has to be a lifestyle choice rather than a fad and she gives great tips and tricks on how you can make small changes over time to incorporate healthy eating behaviors. What I liked about this book is that it also shows you how you can eat what you want to without becoming too indulgent or, worse, addicted to something. Unlike most diet books I’ve read, Don’t Lose Your Mind, Lose Your Weight isn’t preachy or too strict with the rules. Diwakar wants you to view food as your friend and not your enemy and that includes your favorite ‘mithai’ as well.

Don’t Lose Your Mind, Lose Your Weight

Rujuta Diwekar

Published: 2009

Publisher: Random House India

Pages: 279, Paperback

“Nhamkha!” The sound of Pema’s voice echoes across the silent mountains but never reaches the motionless Nhamkha covered in snow with an inkling of red. This is a defining moment in Min Bahadur Bham’s cinematic tour de force Shambhala. Pema is truly alone, her red lachha forever woven around Nhamkha’s white fate.

Shambhala is a touching depiction of women’s reality when communal gossip in society becomes her truth. It is also a testimony to the beauty of Nepal, the stunning majestic mountains that peaks seemingly close to the skies.

Shambhala, in Tibetan, means arising to the land of happiness. The themes in the film include polyandry, patriarchy, self-hood, spirituality, nomadic lifestyle, and loyalty. While we may or may not have seen Pema (played by Thinley Lhamo) reach Shambhala explicitly, the director’s message floated around the cold mountain air of upper Dolpo, letting the audience decide if the film was about Pema’s infidelity or Pema’s journey to self-hood.

Pema is married to three brothers: Tashi (played by Tenzin Dalha), Karma (played by Sonam Topden), and Dawa (played by Karma Wangyal Gurung). The main conflict arises when Pema is accused of having an affair with one of the teachers Ram (played by Karma Shakya) in the village while Tashi is away in Lhasa for trade. This conflict leads Pema to go on a quest to prove her loyalty to her husband Tashi. Throughout the journey, we see character development in both Pema and Karma. While Karma accommodated Pema halfway through, he did not overpower her journey. But, rather we see their shared love for music, Rinpoche, and a subtle chemistry emerge.

The conversation around the film surrounds who the father is, this proves how woman’s loyalty is a societal affair. It distracts us from the other essential symbolic meanings in the film. The slow walk through the cold mountains, itself is a testament to Pema’s resilience. Karma is in the dilemma of being a good husband or following his duties as a monk. When Karma leaves Pema to fulfill his duties at the monastery, she falls asleep on the ground, and upon waking up her horse dies. This was a moment in the film when Pema is truly alone. She marches on to create a reality for herself.

The film displays the contradiction of a society where multiple husbands are the norm, but having multiple lovers is a sin. In one scene, we see Tashi warning Pema to stay away from a woman, reasoning she has multiple lovers. The story at times, towards the middle feels minute as the backdrop of the film takes much of the attention. The visuals of the mountains are stunning and even though the characters speak in Tibetan, both subtitles in English and Nepali are provided which suggests Bham’s vision of the audience not being limited to Nepalese and Tibetan-speaking people. The theme is a striking mise en scène looking at the stunning upper Dolpo while witnessing Pema’s solitude and the journey to the self. The lighting stays low-key from start to finish, indicating it is a sentimental story. As we know, cinema can act as a medium of soft power, it feels like a deliberate choice to let the mountains of Dolpo speak at a glacial pace.

This global exposure and recognition of Shambhala is a way of displaying diverse Nepali values, culture, and customs. It was selected to compete for the Golden Bear at the 74th Berlin International Film Festival and also included as a Nepalese submission for the Academy Award For Best International Feature. Thinley Lhamo, who played the protagonist Pema, also won the Boccalino d’Oro Prize For Best Acting Performance at the 77th Locarno International Film Festival in Switzerland. Shambhala raises the standard for Nepali cinema. For a film to be popular, its entertainment value is regarded as high, however, even with its slow-paced static long-form shorts, Shambhala receives an engagement among the mainstream Nepali audience as well.

The film also does a fabulous job of showing polyandry culture the way it is, and the culture of people and its stories that often get overlapped by the mountains. The film pulls you back into nature, you can hear the prayer flags in the background, the grazing of yaks, the sound of running water, and the crunch of ice on Pema’s feet. The filmmakers allow us to look at this film from an objective perspective. There are an infinite number of ways we can interpret the ending: finding salvation in God, the beauty of reincarnation, the power of society, love, and faith. In addition to that, it includes a feminist narrative exploring the interplay of individual agency and societal prejudices as a woman who is subscribed to the traditional rules and customs of society. She explores her agency and does what it takes to prove her loyalty even if it means walking through the cold, pregnant.

This story comes from a place of adversity while going through a deep personal subtle change seeing life in a new way. In the journey, the dream sequences add layers and depth to the story. Although Pema takes this expedition to find and prove her loyalty to her husband Tashi, after the reconnection, the confrontation does not give her the peace she anticipated but rather ends in an archery test to prove her loyalty. Although we are unaware if Pema hit the target, we are transported to an abstract dream-like reality of self-acceptance, or maybe a rebirth is displayed.

In this expedition, Pema explores her identity beyond being a wife and a member of society. The lingering question of ‘what will society say?’ holds weight and shows us the power that society still holds. Living in a society comes with being watched, talked about, and even questioned. The mountainous region has always been enticing, we have seen the lives of the mountain, but not its people. Pema takes us on a journey from a daughter to a wife to the self. However, we see this discovery only through loose dialogue exchange between Pema and Karma, and later with Ram when Pema says ‘Everyone has to choose their path’.

Maybe, Shambhala isn’t for everyone, but it is worth watching and contemplating its meaning, quality, and delivery in the contemporary standard of Nepali cinema. While the slow pace of nature depicted in the film has been critiqued, maybe it is a deliberate attempt to show the life of Pema within the even slower tempo of the mountains.

‘The Coin’ is a weird but beautiful book. The choppy plot makes you want to sit and mull over things—about love, life, success, and the things that drive us to do what we do. The storyline isn’t linear or coherent. It seems like a jumble of thoughts. But the book’s beauty lies in its chaos. Yasmin Zaher is a Palestinian journalist and writer born in Jerusalem. ‘The Coin’ is her first novel.

The narrator, whose name we never learn, is a wealthy Palestinian woman who has impeccable style and high hygiene standards. But her life is far from perfect. She doesn’t think she’s thriving in America, she only has a vague recollection of ‘home’, and her inheritance is controlled by her uncle and brother. She craves a sense of belongingness and wants to be loved. But she feels out of place at the school where she teaches and her relationships aren’t enriching her as she thought they would. She’s cheating on her long-term boyfriend with someone who’s only ever referred to as ‘Trenchcoat’ and she doesn’t even feel guilty about it.

The chapters are short vignettes narrating the protagonist’s eight months in New York. She spends most of her time ‘teaching’ boys at a school for the underprivileged while buying them burgers and pop. She drops $20 bills and pretends that the money isn’t hers to help those who might be a little strapped for cash. She’s also a cleanliness freak (aka junkie) and spends a lot of time cleaning herself, her home, and even the classroom she uses. She makes her students clean the classroom as well. The plot jumps to her tragic but comfortable childhood and tells us how she survived a car accident that killed her parents, while simultaneously leaving her ‘rich and poor’.

Most of the book is about the protagonist trying to make sense of the world she lives in, and live her best life. Her inability to do those things makes her relatable and endearing. I could see myself in her and I was sure many of my friends would be able to identify with her as well. The book reminded me of Ottessa Moshfegh’s ‘My Year of Rest and Relaxation’ that I had really enjoyed for its slow pace albeit a little depressing content. The protagonist in The Coin is actually better crafted than Moshfegh’s character.

On a deeper level, The Coin explores what it means to be living in a world that’s increasingly divided by race, class, and wealth among other man made parameters. It’s also a novel about consumption and how we are getting addicted to it. There will undoubtedly be times when readers will be disgusted by some of the things in the book but the author manages to get strong points across by bringing some stark, uncomfortable truths to the forefront.

It might sound silly but what I loved about the book is also its brilliant yellow cover with a woman on it. I don’t know why but I’m biased towards books with yellow covers. They just give good vibes and I start those books with a positive feeling that I will love them. And nine out of 10 times I haven’t been disappointed. The Coin joins my growing list/pile of yellow books that I have come to cherish.

The Coin

Yasmin Zaher

Published: 2024

Publisher: Catapult

Pages: 224, Hardcover

To begin, I congratulate Capt. Rameshwar Thapa for his brave and enthusiastic actions, flying through clouds of gunfire during hazardous bombardments. He is a dedicated and committed son of the soil, a brave national hero. Such individuals are rarely born, especially when the nation is in peril.

The people's revolution, which lasted for a decade, erupted sporadically across various remote regions of the Himalayan country. Threats and rising death tolls escalated fear and insecurity across the nation. My own hazardous experiences led me to frequently retreat to my dwelling as Maoists demonstrated even in the heart of Kathmandu. Fear and insecurity were pervasive throughout the country. I retired before negotiations flourished, something I can barely recall due to the toll age has taken on my memory.

Capt. Thapa, the author of Into the Fire, addresses 25 key issues in his work. His contributions are unparalleled, and his unwavering dedication to alleviating the suffering of others reminds me of Henry Dunant, the founder of the Red Cross. Capt. Thapa's selfless service to humanity is truly remarkable, akin to the legacy of Raja Jaya Prithvi Bahadur Singh of Bajhang, a devoted advocate of humanism during the time of Prime Minister Chandra Shumsher Jung Bahadur Rana. Singh, who represented Nepal at the 1933 World Parliament of Religions in Chicago, was a figure dedicated to the cause of humanism. Having read Into the Fire, I found myself transported back to my youth in the peaceful, serene landscapes of the Himalayan motherland, reflecting on my travels across Nepal.

The photographs at the end of the book added a personal touch, energizing me with their striking resemblance between Capt. Thapa and his mother. His family heritage and values have undoubtedly shaped his ability to carry out his tasks with great equanimity and care.

Before concluding, I consulted with my neighbor, retired judge Gauri Bahadur Karki. He quickly responded to my call and, in a heartfelt conversation, explained the chaotic situation in the western district of Jumla, where he had served under the High Court and Supreme Court. He provided clarity on the situation and even shared a book entitled Yuddha Biram: Barta “Bhumigat Rahar Hoina Badhyata” Janayuddha Serofero, published by Malabia Publications. This book, filled with hard truths, was a timely and powerful contribution to the ongoing discussions around the people's war.