My Feudal Lord; by Tehmina Durrani.

Tehmina Durrani portrays a life with all its contexts - a nation formed on basis of an intolerant creed (and then she claims that democracy took root in India while in Pakistan it did not, as if democracy were a weed that accidentally takes root rather than a creed that needs protection of thought and action in every sphere of life by a nation awake to alternatives and not willing to allow them), a creed that demands much out of women but allows a lot of leeway to males no matter what is supposed to be done in name of fairness if anything, a powerful male who therefore can play with women as he chooses and break them for the fun of it, a society that is supposed to be intolerant of adultery but allows it between two married people as long as the male partner in the said fornication is one with power of various sorts, a society that flouts much when it is a question of money or power or spending on luxuries like carpets and paintings but thinks that an education is matriculation in a convent school with no other objective than teaching a girl how to look seemly in society, and much much more.

One of the most interesting points is about a society so hell bent on a skin colour never mind the supposed equality inherent in creed, that "whitewashing" one's descendants by marrying "white" women and producing offspring through them into one's nation and creed and family name is as common as status and money can allow the male. This is so extreme as to have the darker children of people proud of their skin suffer from the mother's disdain and harsh treatment with the grandmother explaining to the hurt children how they can win the said mother's love by lightening their skin and other servile methods. This is presumably much more harsh on daughters of the said mothers who hate their own darker progeny. And yet a constant theme amongst expats is the equality of all men in the creed, irrespective of colour of skin.

Durrani fails to connect the hypocrisy with hollowness of the basis of formation of her nation although she does manage to rise above some of her severe beginning handicaps and her subsequent fallings including into adultery and slavehood status to a second husband who abused her in every possible way after having wrenched her away from her loving first husband. She sees the point about her not loving her first husband in spite of his being a loving and gentle person while the second is anything but; nevertheless the desire to reinstate herself in her parents' society as acceptable socially after the dual handicap of a dark skin and a husband of lesser class (and they say they have no caste barriers!) is too powerful to stop her from getting caught in a marriage of abusive years and years.

That she finally managed to escape and survive is supposed to be a great victory of freedom with bugles - and the fact that many women in similar circumstances do not manage to escape but die sooner or later in the abusive relationship makes it true enough. That she does not see the hypocrisy and gaps of logic and information of her background says she has miles galore to go before she begins to comprehend just where the handicaps and hypocrisies begin.

The Motorcycle Diaries; by Ernesto Che Guevara.

If one comes to this book with any sort of expectations whether from having a glorified image of the author's life and work or - like I did - due to a strong impact of the film made after the book, repeating the journey of the two young boys well over a half a century later when the circumstances of the people of the continent are not really changed for better, especially those of the indigenous people of the continents, one is bound to be disappointed. This is unadulterated diary of a young male of that era, and whatever else he understood or learned or was impressed with that led to his life and work is here only fleetingly while the prejudices of his own roots often enough do show. He says more than once that he has not thought it proper to add to what he wrote then in publishing it later; fair enough.

If one does wish for a better view of the formation of the man that he became later, the visual impressions left by the film do a much better work of giving one what he saw and what impressions it left. One could, of course, undertake to repeat the journey oneself. One might however find the roads and other conditions not improved, and one's fitness to undergo such an ordeal must be taken into account beforehand. Personally I would take note of all the difficulties of roads mentioned herein before even a touristic travel to see the splendours of the continent, whether of cultural history or nature. Pity one could not do it while young and healthy.

The Tell-Tale Brain; by V. S. Ramachandran.

An interesting review of brain from a well known neurologist, for professionals and for those not in the profession. The author is either ambivalent about some aspects of his work and conclusions thereof - conclusions neither necessary logically nor valid logically but drawn nevertheless usually by most so called rationalists - or unwilling to look a bit further and see more. Correlation does not necessarily amount to a causal relation, much less necessarily one way, he and his ilk ought to remember.

A User's Guide to the Brain; by John J. Ratey.

Could have been written or edited better, but from point of view of information provided especially to non professionals very interesting, valuable, and so forth.