#also I LOVE SUNETRA

[muralofsolitude]

[lonelier-version-of-you]

Right, well, I’m still trying to emotionally process all of that. Forgive me if I’m a bit incoherent in this review post, and I may change my mind on a bunch of stuff later haha.

But I thought that was a REALLY well-written/well-produced episode. Dana Fainaru and Sunetra Sarker are an excellent writer/producer pair.

Let’s start with poor, poor Rash, while I try to work through my thoughts on the Dylan and Paula storyline. Neet Mohan was utterly INCREDIBLE tonight. Please give him all the awards, kthxbye.

The whole gang storyline has been a bit silly, but it’s erred just enough on the line that I’ve been able to get invested in it anyway. It’s not, like, so overdone I just think “god, I just want this storyline to be over already!”, so at least there’s that.

It really showed Fainaru and Sarker’s talents that this episode managed to make you feel sorry for Hafsa, despite all the harm she herself had caused in the gang. It made you think exactly what Rash was thinking - ‘how did this sweet little girl he remembers grow up into this woman on this dark path?’ And then her last words were about wanting her family to find out from Rash, not from the police, and suddenly it was like Rash could see that sweet little girl still in there... but it was too little, too late. I thought there was something very powerful in all of that. And Zainab Hasan hasn’t impressed me that much in previous weeks, but I thought her acting was pretty great tonight, too.

Who knows where this will go from here for poor Rash. You can see he’s obviously reached the point where he’s horribly traumatised from all this now. :( And I’m interested to see where Matthew’s involvement with everything may lead.

(Speaking of Matthew, what happened to his PTSD storyline that was supposed to be a thing? Do we think that’s just been put on the backburner for a little while, or has it been forgotten about? Hopefully it’s just the former.)

David going for the Clinical Nurse Manager job? I love this for me. I’m glad it’s not Charlie again, he really does bore me. And David taking the role could give him some really interesting stories.

And now for Dylan and Paula, the storyline I’ve been hyped up for for like a week. I really hoped for it to be an ongoing storyline, and... it felt mostly like a one-and-done thing, but there was definitely potential in there for it to be revisited in the future? So fingers crossed it will be.

I really don’t know what to think about this part of the episode. This is the part I still really haven’t processed yet. But, you know, it was very well-written, and William Beck and Rosie Jones were FANTASTIC. They have a real rapport in their performances, and the writers should bring Paula back at some point for that reason alone (although I suppose Rosie probably has a lot of other stuff going on, so maybe that’s why they’ve left it open-ended - she could come back, or she could not come back). They just worked great together as actors, and the characters worked well together too.

I thought it was really interesting how so much of Paula’s storyline tied back to Dylan’s own history. Paula was a recovering alcoholic with a developmental disability, like Dylan himself, and then there was the whole thing about her first kid being taken into care and the chance that her second one might be too - Dylan, of course, having been in foster care as a teenager. Then there’s Paula’s history with her abusive ex, which reflects very directly on Dylan’s father abusing his mother, and even in a way on Dylan having been abused himself.

And you could see that Dylan saw himself reflected in Paula’s situation. We know already that deep down, Dylan wants to be a father, but is scared of struggling as a parent - and he saw that worst fear come true right in front of him through Paula. It was heartbreaking to watch.

And it also made me terribly sad that you could see Dylan didn’t want Paula’s situation to turn out the way it did. He wanted to help her, he thought he was doing the right thing, and he just ended up putting her at risk of having her second child taken into care too. And you could see that he knew there were no good options - Paula was struggling as a parent and didn’t appear to have had much in the way of attempts at supporting her in raising her kid, but the kid going into care wasn’t really any better because they still ran the risk of ending up with a bad/neglectful parent(s) anyway. And Dylan wanted to help, but he’s only one person, and there’s only so much he can do... god, it fucked me up.

And then there was that line. That line. “You’re just like the rest of them.” Where do I even start unpacking that? Autistic doctor tries to help his patient with cerebral palsy because he knows how badly disabled people are treated, and it all goes wrong and she ends up telling him he’s just like all the abled people who have hurt her and I just. God. That was an incredibly powerful line, with so many layers to it.

I really don’t know how to feel about this storyline and the way that it played out, but if it wasn’t already all worth it, that “you’re just like the rest of them” line made it so. I have a lot of thoughts to work through about this, I may completely change my mind about a lot of things I’ve said later, but I know one thing for sure: that line was a brilliant piece of writing.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

14. A Shot in the Dark Part 2

Upfront: It has been a long time since I’ve known somebody who got shot (well enough) to have the exact parameters of how the hospital etiquette is, so I’m basically going to tap into the last time, and since that was about a decade ago and also in my hometown, Idk how far off the way that they handle it is. I’ll try to fill in the spaces with how not as close associates have portrayed their experiences with similar crises and maybe pepper in a little imagination for flow of story. But, the main takeaway is that the chapter has a heavy police presence and I know that can be extremely difficult to digest for people.

He had been crying for most of the night. He wasn’t that adverse to crying. Physically, it was a good release for emotions that the brain was trying to process. He did wish that he could stop for longer than fifteen minutes here and there, but there was too much happening in his heart and mind. It had been two hours. The police had talked to him, then he had to wait for detectives, and they were a “good cop, bad cop” team that he would have expected only in a fictional work, and that was fitting, since none of this felt real. 

The way that Grace’s body shivered in his arms, then just… stopped moving. The way that she wasn’t breathing and he was too scared to let go of her wound to try to administer CPR… The way that he was convinced that he was watching the love of his life die in his arms and the fact that she had been in surgery for two hours and nobody but police and detectives would speak to him about anything, yet, nobody would try to contact her family, despite him repeating to them that she was Ambassador Monroe’s daughter…

3:48 am - At least they had contacted Sunetra. Apparently, she was Grace St. Catherine’s listed emergency contact. She and Xander showed up about an hour after Simon had been sitting there, with the police. Whenever they came in, both of them noticed him and he could see that Xander looked equal amounts of confused, angry, and scared. Sunny was less readable, only seeming to be curious, but rushed over to him, while the police tried to intercept her. “What happened?” she asked, over their shoulders. 

Simon stared at her, glanced at Xander, and even though everything in him wanted to say, “You left her to fucking die is what happened!” Instead, he said very softly, “Grace and I were on a date and she got shot…” Sunny had an emotional response. She began to let tears fall from her eyes, though the rest of her was unresponsive as the police gently guided her away, asking that she and Simon don’t talk.

Xander had a look of… realization and resignation. Simon was gonna cover for them again. He and Sunny could stick with the alibi that they would have used if Grace had been found dead in the alley… “Is she dead?” Xander asked, shaking and crying/

“Surgery…” Simon said, feeling… equal parts bad for him but still extremely pissed off. He knew that he cared, he did know that… but they just LEFT her. They left her to die, not knowing that Simon was there for her, to avenge her nor to save her. They had left her to die in an alley and would have just… moved on without her, like they’d done with Heath. He felt his own tears forming again, angry ones this time around and he wiped at them with his sleeve.  She deserved better. 

At least now, he was ready to make his phone call. He just… didn’t want to potentially be arrested if Grace was gonna be alone. Hopefully, somebody would call her parents. She wasn’t close to them, but she loved them a lot, and they deserved to know where she was. She deserved to have them there for her. “Mom…”

“Simon? Baby, it’s 3 am, what in the world is going on?”

He sobbed and said, “Grace was shot..”

He heard the wind leave his mother like she’d just been hit. “Oh my God, Simon. Baby, I am so sorry. Where are you, I’ll come right down!”

“I’m at the hospital. The police want to talk to me. I’m scared that… That they’ll make me leave her here… that they might arrest me.” There was a pause, and he knew that she was trying to process something… “I was just trying to protect her. I killed somebody… He shot her and I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. It wasn’t even the fact that he had done it, but telling his mother was… harder than he imagined when he mustered up the courage to call her.

“I’m gonna call the lawyer and come down there. What hospital?”

.

 Simon wrote something on her hand. 

It's not the first thing that she noticed. That was the room. A hospital room.  What happened? For a moment, she didn’t even know who she was, much less where exactly she was and why, but her brain read her surroundings as a hospital room, and whatever happened, she felt very fuzzy headed and resolved not to say anything aloud until she could figure out more about what happened and why.

The second thing that she noticed was the badge.

It had a visceral and sobering affect on her. She thought about the ACAB button on her favorite canvas bag and her body felt actual elevated pain at even seeing the symbol - a symbol she hated and did not trust. The badge holder spoke, seeing that she was now awake, she mentally noted, not caring that she couldn’t POSSIBLY look like she was capable of holding a conversation, because she still was trying to figure out what happened. “Miss St. Catherine?”

“Monroe,” she groaned.  Bitch, was that YOUR voice? She wondered, hearing something that sounded gross and pained come out of her and feeling a tremendous strain as the word flowed from her lips, even as her mind told her not to say THAT. Monroe. She hadn’t used that name in years, but… her brain still automatically spat it out when addressed. “Ugh…” she finally remembered more. Monroe. That’s correct. She had parents and her last name, from them had been Monroe. It took her a while to push out her explanation - both energy and concentration that the badge holder allowed her to power through. “I’m the daughter of Gethsemane Monroe… and Ambrose! Ambrose Monroe. Call him… My father… I’m… hurting…”

The third thing that she noticed was her pain. You’d think it would be instant, but her brain spent so much energy trying to formulate words and connect them to thoughts of questions that she hadn’t. But, by God, now she did.

“You’ve gotten medical attention, but we will contact your parents.”

“Cool. They’ll call the family lawyer.”

“You think that you need a lawyer?”

“I  don’t  think that you should talk to me in my condition. Can hardly think, and I’m in pain. I’ve…”  I’ve been shot! THAT’S what happened. She remembered. Her blood pressure spiked at this realization. “Simon!” Her voice was stronger, in her panic and she moved quite violently, only to realize that she was handcuffed to the hospital bed. Both her wrist and her gsw hurt in that moment and she laid down, breathing hard and holding herself with her free hand.

“Simon Laurent?” The badge holder had been unmoved by her sudden jolt, and unphased by her obvious pain. 

“I hope that whatever is in this IV doesn’t make me forget that you’re trying to talk to me in my condition, after the fact that I asked for my lawyer. I hope that they have a lot to say about me being chained to this bed after getting shot.”

The doctor had arrived to check on her and the detective ducked out, with Grace glaring at him. They brought her blood pressure down, gave her more pain medicine and spoke to her about her injuries and procedures. “Am I going to make it?”

“I think so. Good thing that your friend was there.”

“Simon! Is  he okay?” her pulse shot up. 

“Please try to remain calm, Miss St. Catherine. He wasn’t harmed.” She sighed and rested against the pillow.  That wasn’t what I asked…  But,  that was when she noticed it:

“Remember our last date night! XOXO Simon”  The doctor left the room as she stared at the sloppily written message, knowing that even though it looked shaky and/or rushed that it was Simon’s handwriting and he MUST have written it while she was injured… she knew this was an important message.  Our last date night? Like… last date-date, date night or last “date night” date night? No… not our last date. There’s nothing special about that.  He had recently asked her about their “last date night,” so she knew that must have been what he meant.  Remember our last date night! XOXO Simon… 

She knew what she needed to do. She waited, trying to breathe and meditate, silently hoping and wishing that she knew Simon as well as she knew that he knew her. She looked at the clock in the room. 4:14 am.

.

4:58 am, a VERY handsome couple stormed into the hospital and Simon recognized them immediately. Even if he had never seen the photos, Grace was the spitting image of her mother - the woman didn’t even look old enough to have a daughter her age. They could easily pass for sisters, and with a slight variation of her skin tone and hair texture, they had the exact same face, build, and body language. (Though, Grace's body language most likely mimicked her mom's to pass for normalcy) Her father was… clearly rich, because that woman was definitely out of his league and his style was more of a conservative fashion than the clearly purposely fashionable wife, but that was an earlier thought Simon had… not necessarily one he had on this night. 

The man was slamming his finger onto the counter and speaking very sternly to the poor lady at the desk. Whatever was happening wasn’t her fault, but Simon figured the police had been just as shitty with them as they’d been with him the past couple of hours. The woman turned and noticed him. She came over and his mother took his hand and intertwined their fingers, seemingly to give him strength. They weren’t sure WHAT Grace’s mother was going to say.

“You’re Grace’s boyfriend,” she said. Simon… knew that Grace said her mom was English, but hearing that voice come out of “Grace’s face” was a bit shocking at first. He nodded his head. If Grace hadn’t announced that they had broken up, this wasn’t the time to. Maybe she also hadn’t mentioned that she’d rushed off because he was stalking her. “Do you know what happened?” She wondered.

The police were a lot more accommodating with allowing her to talk to him than they had been with Sunny and Xander, who were also in the waiting room, with officers beside them, and had been presumably questioned when they’d been guided to the detectives earlier. Simon glanced at them and he saw that the police were staring at him, waiting for him to finally say something. If he wasn’t going to answer them, he would maybe answer this woman. He squeezed his mother’s hand and let himself tell her. “Somebody attacked Grace. She was shot,” he pointed to where. “She’s been in surgery. They won’t say more. The man that shot her… He was somebody… that she  knew…  from her past, I think,” he said, tilting his head, hoping that Mrs. Monroe would catch what he meant. She stumbled, ever so slightly, letting him know that she indeed did get it. “I killed him,” Simon said. It was more of a proud declaration than anything else. The woman looked… relieved. Simon didn’t know if he was imagining that for his own ego, or if he was simply too disoriented to note things properly. But soon, the doctor approached Grace’s parents and they rushed down the hallway with him.  She’s alive. She’s okay… Simon felt himself take the first relieved breath that he’d had in hours.

.

5:17 am. Outside of her room, she could hear her parents fussing with someone. The other voice wasn’t very familiar, but she ultimately gathered that it was that badge that had been in earlier. He had a hard voice, which, although he was speaking in a low voice, it cut through the wall and sounded very sinister as he told her parents that she couldn’t receive visitors until they figured out what happened in that alley. An accent of “the Queen’s people,” Grace considered it. She wasn’t that great at telling a lot of those accents apart, and found out that people snobbishly point out that their accents are special. Their accents are different. If they had the Queen listed whenever she looked them up online, she just threw it in a bucket. It was an effort on her part NOT to think about linguistics. In fact, she furrowed her brows that she was thinking about it so naturally just from hearing an Australian accent through a door.  Damn it. 

Her father spoke about the constitution, warned the dick that he  knew the law, and her mother insisted that he was incompetent, subhuman, and corrupt. The door opened and the man returned, leaving her parents outside. 

“Miss Monroe, or Miss St. Catherine, or whoever you wish to be called these days. Your parents have been alerted and they want to see you. Your boyfriend is out there, speaking to my partner. If you want to get your side out, I would suggest that you do so now.”

She frowned.  Her side?  Simon wasn’t telling on her. He wouldn’t. She looked at the note on her hand.  This cop is trying to get under your skin, Grace. 

“People sure do seem to die around you a lot. Hopefully, he'll realize that sooner, rather than later." He adjusted her blanket and smirked, his icy blue eyes seemingly having nothing human behind them as he covered up her still cuffed arm. "But, maybe I'm misunderstanding the facts. Maybe it's  not  what it looks like. Maybe you  weren't trying to attack someone when they shot you in self defense, only to be murdered moments later by some poor fool under your spell."

Now, Grace smirked, but she was in enough pain that it could be mistaken for a wince, if Mace wasn't so receptive. "Yes. You ARE wrong."

"Explain it to me. Simon's certainly explaining it to my partner."

.

Sieve: Just explain to me what happened

Simon: Is Grace okay?

Sieve: Whatever you know, it could only help her.

Simon: (Sighs) I've already told the police and I also told you and your partner. That guy shot her and I shot him. He attacked, I reacted.

Sieve: What led up to it?

Simon: It happened really fast.

Sieve: Start from when you first saw him. We’ve got time. 

Simon: Ummm… he seemed to come out of nowhere to me I don't know. 

 Grace: I spotted him throwing the trash out back there and I recognized him. I thought he might not recognize me, but if he did... I... Didn't want Simon to know. (Lowers her eyes to the note on her palm. Clenches her fist.) He doesn't know about my past. I didn't want him to know that I was... Product... And I certainly never expected to run into the man who had turned me into product…

 Sieve: Did she say who this man was?

Simon: No... She... (Taps into Grace's personality. ‘If I were brainstorming the actions of a character like Grace, how would I outline her response to this line of questioning?’) She seemed paranoid. Secretive. I didn't know him, but I had a feeling that she didn't want me to, so I tried to give her space. I gave them too much of it…

 Grace: I tried to get some distance between Simon and I to get a closer look at the guy. It was dark and I didn't know if my past was playing tricks on my mind. It's been almost 15 years now… I didn't really believe myself to be seeing him again, especially in such a random place as this alley.

Mace: But it was him?

Grace:  (nods head)  It was dark. I was walking up on him and I asked him a question about that day. Are you the nice man with the pinky ring in the white limousine? I asked it out loud before I could stop myself or formulate a more tactful way to handle it.

Mace: And then what?

Grace:  (Looks into his eyes) And then he shot me.

 Simon: I don't KNOW what she said. I don't know what happened. It was dark and they were a little ways away from me. From what I COULD figure, he seemed to be trying to kill her. I simply reacted.

Sieve: By emptying your gun into him?

Simon: That's… that's how I practice at the range. I've been practicing a lot. I'm a pretty good shot. I just... Went into my practice mode. He was running, but I imagined the firing range targets when they move forward.

Sieve: He was running towards you?

Simon:  (Pauses)  No.. the other direction.

Sieve: So, you admit that he was running away when you killed him.

Simon: I… never denied that he was running away… AFTER he tried to kill Grace. (Hands shaking in anger and frustration)

Sieve: But, instead of self defense, as you claimed, this sounds like revenge for shooting your girlfriend.

Simon: If you could only be self-aware enough to realize how absurd that is coming from the police. You all shoot people all the time out of fear. Unarmed people who aren't even being violent. This monster shot at us!

Sieve: At her. After she rushed up to him in the dark, in presumably a confrontational manner.

Simon: Why do you presume that?

Sieve: It sounds like your girlfriend rushed upon this man, if it happened so quickly that you can’t form how exactly it did happen. How far away would you say you were from him?

Simon:  (Flares nostrils)  I didn't measure.

Sieve:  (More pensievely than accusatory)  But, in the dark, with him moving in the opposite direction, you were a very precise shot. It was not well lit, he was an unknown distance away. Your girlfriend was probably on the ground by then. All on short notice, and in a random alley behind this man’s job. You hit him with every bullet in your gun. You didn't miss at all, and still had time to apply pressure to the wound and call 911. 

Simon: I’m a quick thinker and I've been practicing.

 Mace: So, the victim…

Grace: Me?

Mace: The murder  victim.

Grace: The attempted murderer.

Mace: Had ties to someone you knew. Someone we spoke about before. Heath Farmer.

Grace:  (Pulse accelerates. Face becomes firm)  I don't believe that.

Mace:  The night that Farmer died, he had been a part of a b&e, two of the culprits escaped. The homeowner didn't get a good look at them, but noted that they were all dressed alike and wearing masks. Some time later, a man was taken from his home, not to be seen again. His wife, who hadn't been on the scene when Farmer died, described the kidnappers in a similar fashion as Farmer had been dressed that night. Same exact clothing that was removed from your person for surgery.

Grace: (Unbothered) Sounds like they were stylish.

Mace: 148. That's what you told the police whenever you were initially arrested for beating a girl almost to death. 

Grace: A gang member who murdered a small child that police failed to protect.

Mace: Heath Farmer once had a number too, and I'm sure that if I were to go through all of your friends, I would find more numbers. More members of your gang. More murderers…

Grace:  I'm  sure that you’ll find that there is no type of evidence to indicate that  I  have murdered anybody, anywhere. The only thing that you have is the word of someone who described an outfit of some people who maybe tapped into a description that her husband gave her when he spoke about work.

Mace: I never mentioned anything about his work.

Grace: You mentioned that the wife’s description matched Heath's death at his murder scene. Either somebody let a civilian on the premises during an investigation, or the woman's husband was on the scene for work, since she was not, as you were happy to inform me. (Bats her eyes)

Mace:  (Glares) You were able to pin numerous murders on so-called stewards, who wore all black clothes masks to cover their identities, and yet, in several disappearances over the past couple of years, we find the symbol associated with your old gang. The one that you got away with acts of violence by being rich and pretending to be crazy. Several of those same kids who were on the streets were there for a year while you were allowed to sit in a room, dance and draw pictures with crayons. Maybe the ringleader felt bad for abandoning them. Maybe these people who are disappearing are doing so because the princess has decided.

Grace: This is inappropriate. The detective.

Mace: Why would you and Farmer have matching outfits and be near people associated with the old Apex in the middle of the night? More than one occasion, and it be exactly the same as what the witness saw when her husband was taken?

Grace: My date with Simon was after practice last night, and Heath must have stopped by that man’s house on his way to  practice that night.

Mace: Practice?

Grace:  (Deadpan)  We have a dance crew.  (Stare at each other)  You can verify it with the Infinity Train Foundation Center. Sometimes we practice there and most of our performances have been there. For the kids.

Mace: You never said that you had practice on the night of his death.  (Smirks)

Grace: I said that we cancelled some plans to hang out with Simon. Those plans were practice that night. My other friends wanted to size him up and Heath didn't make it to the little meet and greet. Maybe he was as unfortunate as me. Maybe he saw somebody that he just couldn’t stand not to address. Maybe that’s why he was killed, as opposed to wounded or apprehended for questioning. Sure would have made your job easier than this plot of yours to give me details of the investigation. You might think that you’re programming me to know stuff that I’m not supposed to know so that later that knowledge can be used against me, but I promise, I’m not as stupid as you think.

Mace:  (Fumes in frustration as Grace stares at him, emotionless)

Grace: Are you on the take? Is that why you’re so passionately trying to pin cold blooded murder on an internationally recognized children’s book series author?

Mace: Maybe it’s him who’s in your pocket. Unfortunate young man who brings joy to children is a good, strong alibi for a murderous former gang member and child prostitute…

Grace: (Spits in his face) 

“Book me for assault for that if you want to, but you don’t have SHIT else on me,” she hissed. “I can’t wait to tell my lawyer what you just said to an injured SURVIVOR of child trafficking, homelessness and the subsequent street violence brought on by aforementioned abuse. I’m a recovery success story, philanthropist, child welfare advocate, and payer of so many taxes… The way that my dad and the DA might as well be fucking each other, they’re so close, and you take my physically and mentally traumatized body, cuff it to a bed while I’m striuggling for my life, and question and accuse me while I’m under medication... I feel like… You should take a look in the mirror and ask yourself, ``Do you want to fight me?” He wiped his face with her blanket, uncuffed her and left the room.

Her parents were speaking with her lawyer whenever he came out. “Going to take Mr. Laurent to the station for more questioning,” he said.

“What?” Mrs. Laurent wondered, walking up with coffee for Mrs. Monroe that she had gone to fetch while waiting for Simon to finish speaking with the other detective. “Simon already told us all that he did what he did in self defense!” 

“Other things have come to light, namely that the murder victim…”

“The assailant who tried to kill my daughter,” Mrs. Monroe corrected, infuriating him as well as her daughter had.

“WAS affiliated with the organisation that disbanded and became known as the street gang that your daughter was part of…”

Mrs. Laurent gasped. “Street gang? What are you talking about?”

“What he’s talking about is something that he has no legal RIGHT to talk about and now you’ve just slandered my daughter to a woman who only knows her after her terribly haunting childhood of being forced into a life of crime.” Mrs. Laurent’s eyes were already red from crying, and now they were simply confused, as well. “Mrs. Laurent… Our legal team already has representatives here on behalf of Grace. I’m more than happy to extend their services to Simon, as well.”

“I don’t know that we can afford something like that…” the woman said. 

Mrs. Monroe doubted that Simon would have a problem with good legal representation, as she definitely already researched his net worth, but it was true that he didn’t have a team like the one that they did. “Don’t be silly. Our children come first, and it's clear that they are under attack right now. Why else would we be even be entertaining the notion that two beloved pillars of the community are somehow orchestrating a conspiracy theory to…” she gave Mace a look, “What were the claims? Killing a child trafficking gang member?” She finally took her coffee from Mrs. Laurent’s shaking hand, blew on it and took a sip, staring at Detective Mace, for dramatic effect.

It burned her tongue, but she didn’t flinch. 

Sieve came from the room that he had been allowed to use in order to speak with Simon and he and Mace touched base, going over the discussions. Simon hugged his mother and Mrs. Monroe stared at the detectives. Her husband approached with the DA on his cell phone to speak with Mace. They watched as he stammered and tried to explain things, then he handed the phone back and punctuated with conversation (pointed at Simon), with, “We’ll be in touch if further questioning comes about. At this moment, no charges will be filed.”

Simon’s eyes smiled and he politely said, “Thank you so much, for everything that you do to keep citizens safe.” Mace knew he was being sarcastic, though there was nothing to prove it and the Monroes had just made it clear that this entire lot would be a unified effort. In fact, the woman was rubbing Simon’s back and talking kindly to him while his mother offered him her coffee cup. Mace left angrily. Sieve seemed less upset, but he always was. 

The police were going to stay around for a while, and Grace was only allowed 3 visitors at a time. First, she saw her parents and the lawyer. Then, she saw Sunny, Xander, and Jalicia had come in too, by then. Then, her mom brought Mrs. Laurent in and the woman was trying to be very strong about having had it sprung on her this morning about Grace’s past and the entire situation with the police and things. Grace was extremely tired by the time that Simon finally got around to coming in. So tired, that she only saw his face, smiled, held his hand and fell to sleep, with him and the clock watching over her. 8:41 am.

15. I Trust Him With My Life

[cvrnewsdirectindia]

New good food destination: Chef’s home | Gurgaon News

Popular in Bengaluru, Mumbai and Pune, the appeal of food pop-ups is trying to find room in the brick-and-mortar tradition of Delhi-NCR. They might not stick to one place for long, but the culture is here to stay, a logical corollary of the shrinking spaces and high rentals in metros. Sakshi Virmani and Sharad Kohli report on an eating-out trend that’s hosted at the chef’s home, making the experience much more personal. “I find pop-ups are personal — strangers turn into friends after one pop-up itself,” Sneha Saikia says with a laugh. For people in search of food with a backstory and atmosphere, or sometimes nostalgia, pop-ups have become must-save dates in the calendar. “Customers are looking for an experience in an intimate space,” says Osama Jalali, food historian and home chef. “They’re also looking for authenticity, which fine-dining cannot always bring.” Through pop-ups, he adds, one can appreciate the full range and delights of India’s food heritage. “Many Assamese pop-ups are coming up, for example, because people want to go beyond the regular fare.” In Delhi-NCR, the concept hasn’t gained as much acceptance as it has elsewhere, believes Srikant Vijaykar, one half of a duo that’s on a journey of introducing the lesser-known but delicious Pathare Prabhu cuisine. Still, whether the venue is a Mumbai flat or a sprawling Delhi ‘kothi’, the pop-up is bringing on a platter the country’s culinary diversity. On a plate, with love For long, food pop-ups have been part of India’s streetscape, in the form of makeshift stalls around which hungry folks would gather. Now, cuisines from regions across the land are being curated by home chefs, who are digging through old recipes and older ingredients to present local gastronomic cultures to an eager audience. When Sunetra and Srikant Vijaykar moved to Gurgaon from Mumbai in 2016, they knew little of how unique their cuisine was. “The Vijaykars are a very small community from Maharashtra, the Pathare Prabhu community — worldwide, we number over 6,000, even smaller than the Parsis,” says Sunetra. In fact, there is, as Srikant points out, more Gujarati and Rajasthani influence in their cuisine than there is Maharashtrian. The couple’s pop-ups, organised every three months at their Gurgaon pad, usually accommodate around 15 people. Each time, the response is phenomenal. Little wonder, considering the mouthwatering preparations that are served up. “Some of our popular dishes are Paplet Bhujane, a white pomfret curry; Chimboree che Khadkhadle, crabs cooked in Pathare Prabhu sambar masala and lots of garlic; Gode Mutton, a mutton curry made with sambar masala; and Karandiche Lonache, shrimps in homemade pickle masala,” says Sunetra. Before every pop-up, the Vijaykars fly in fresh food from Mumbai, where their events are more regular and attract the crowds. Srikant reasons it might have something to do with the palate, since Pathare Prabhu cuisine boasts more flavours than spice. A marketing professional, he is currently translating ‘Gruhini-Mitra’, one of the earliest known Indian cookbooks in which are chronicled old Pathare Prabhu dishes. This table busts myths At her CR Park home, Sneha Saikia serves dollops of Bhut Jolokia chutney, steamed squash, black-sesame baby potatoes and Manxo (mutton) curry, with rice on the side, on a fresh banana leaf and Kansa plate. Her ‘Table for 6’ acquaints north Indians with the delectable food of the northeast. Five years ago, Saikia noticed disparaging remarks online about food from the region. “When I joined food groups on social media, I used to see foul comments about the cuisine. A lot of people still think we eat insects, that our food is visually unattractive to north Indians. I thought, let me invite people over and show them what we cook,” says Saikia, who also makes Bodo and Khasi food. She recalls an incident where a college girl booked the table for the birthday of a friend, who was Assamese. “The birthday boy was so happy, he was almost in tears; he described it as the best gift ever. People from almost all ethnicities have come and enjoyed this food,” Saikia adds. Then there’s Anchal Bhatia, who runs Tastesutra, a quaint cooking studio in Lajpat Nagar. She also holds pop-ups, including one she called Hidden Culinary Gems, in which guests were served regional preparations that have become rare, among them Bel Sherbet (with nolen gur and amaranth seeds), Kathal ke Kabab, Chicken Ghee Roast (with ragi appam), and Hyderabadi Baghaar-e-Baingan. Bhatia’s labour of love is India on a Thali. Yet, it’s not just in homes that the phenomenon of the pop-up is playing out. Hotels and restaurants, too, have embraced the concept, as have spaces like clubs in high-end condominiums. “It’s likely that chefs in hotels might not be conversant with a certain cuisine, so hotels can host pop-ups by a chef who would specialise in a certain regional cuisine,” informs Jalali. The economics behind pop-ups is pretty straightforward, for what drives the home chefs is not profit but a passion to create a memorable experience around food. They spend on the ingredients, while the guests pay for the experience. Alternately, the organiser of a pop-up at a restaurant or hotel gets paid by the establishment in question. Further, if it’s happening in town, you would get to know about it through word of mouth, and your circle of fellow foodies. Or, of course, through the ubiquitous social media. Making memories over food At the end of the day, nothing beats the informality of strangers coming together to break bread at a table. Or, more traditionally, sitting on the floor, among carpets and bolsters and around a dastarkhwan, bonding over a daawat. “It allows people the opportunity to sit down to a meal with a Muslim family, and it gives us the chance to host them,” conveys Jalali, of a very personal experience. Besides, where else can you learn about ingredients like bitter brinjal, Burmese coriander or single clove garlic? These are difficult to procure in Delhi, so Saikia began growing them here (or, asking anyone visiting from Assam to bring some along). “In our Assamese platter, you will find all the flavours — Khar is alkaline, for spice we have Bhut Jolokia chutney, for a little tangy flavour we have Masor Tenga (tomato fish curry), and steamed vegetables to balance the hotness,” she explains. “In winters, at one of the pop-ups, I introduced silkworms and red ant eggs that my cousin had sent me from Assam. Everybody was apprehensive at first but when they tried, they loved it.” Indeed, food can make misapprehensions disappear and bring communities closer. So, the age-old Indian tradition of hospitality is alive. Meanwhile, at Saikia’s pop-ups, every scrumptious meal ends with a steaming brew of comfort. “We have retained the British tea culture for community interaction in the afternoon,” she says.

from CVR News Direct https://cvrnewsdirect.com/new-good-food-destination-chefs-home-gurgaon-news/

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Reflections on a Year of Reading Indian Literature

BOOKS: Cobalt Blue by Sachin Kundalkar; Train to Pakistan Khushwant Singh; The Glassblower’s Breath by Sunetra Gupta; Nine Lives by William Dalrymple; The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy

WORDS: 518

GENERAL REFLRCTION:

To be completely honest I chose India as a country not only because i think their culture is incredible but mostly because they worship Ganesh, the Elephant- headed Hindu God. Why? Well,  because my favorite animal is the one and only elephant. As one can imagine all of the common factors of the books i have read were based on religion. But in the book ‘Nine Lives’ it focused on different religious practices that i had no idea existed. A very apparent theme found in these books were freedom. In ‘Cobalt Blue’ it emphasized the freedom to love, as two siblings fell in love with the same person and distanced themselves from the tight leash of their family in order to do so. ‘Train to Pakistan’ shares the same concept when a Hindu boy has a forbidden love for a Muslim girl and falls to his death trying to protect her and their unborn child. Ultimately, not all of the books had a love theme as shown in ‘Nine lives’ where the people who chose their own path of religion had to free themselves of disapproving families. All of the books hold the same concept of being held back from dreams by their parents.

WHAT I HAVE LEARNED:

From reading Indian literature i have learned a lot of new information.  I have learned more from two specific books, ‘Train to Pakistan’ and ‘Nine Lives.’ I had no idea that at some point in time Hindu and Muslims were “at war”’ killing each other for power. I also learned that suicide has a different meaning to Matajis who see it as a transition to their next life. And that the people who celebrate the Theyyam get to spend their whole lives memorizing scripts and dances in order to become Gods for Three months out of the year. Its amazing to learn what other people believe in , it gives an insight to how they think and why they do or don't do certain things that are not considered to be our norms.

WHAT I HAVE LEARNED ABOUT MYSELF:

Whenever someone asks me what type of genre I like to read I always say fiction, but after reading ‘Nine Lives’ I might reconsider no-fiction. I don't really take naps but this year i have taken so many, I learned that if i ever want to fall asleep i should read a book that does not really interest me. When it comes to what i call “good books” i read straight through at a quicker pace, eager to find out what happens next but for not so good books my brain shuts off and enters sleep mode. Reading fifteen pages a day every day allowed me to actually finish a book no matter how terrible the book was. Without this schedule i would not have finished half of the these books, when i read  a book that does not interest me i stop reading and never get to the good parts later in the book. I'm not saying that i like this assignment but it was an interesting experience.

[ankurmutreja]

Review of Behind Bars by Sunetra Choudhury

Behind Bars by Sunetra Choudhury is a compilation of case studies of prisoners with an underlying current of exposing the unfairness of life, which gets even further accentuated behind bars. She has tried her best to accommodate all kinds of players in her compilation: politicians, corporate honchos, rebels, commoners, et al. There are total of 13 case studies, which I have read all, but the names which have lingered on are Wahid, Amar Singh, Somnath Bharti, Peter Mukherjee, Pappu Yadav, Kobad Gandhi, A. Raja and JP. However, Amar Singh and Somnath Bharti are complete nuisance in the otherwise excellent compilation. If I were the editor, I would cull these two names and shorten the reading length to around 200 pages (or may be even shorter to just 100 pages by culling a few more names: Peter Mukherjee, the Teenager, the Foreign Model, et al). A. Raja is a celebrated case and has already been talked about a lot, but his presence is necessary to highlight the extent to which prison authorities can bend to accommodate a VIP prisoner. There were a few commoners too in the compilation like the Transgender, the Teenager, and the Muslim Bride, but their stories haven’t left a lasting impression on me. The only story of a commoner which struck strong like a storm wind is that of Wahid. Sushil Sharma, the Tandoor Murderer, who seems to have become a saint inside the prison, doesn’t have much to offer as far as the prison life is concerned. Of course, he has stayed the longest inside the prison including in solitary confinement, but his disposition is too religious to inspire trust. The Foreign Model, who seems to have lived a five-star existence inside the prison, is also forgettable because of her unique circumstances. Peter Mukherjee has also been written about a lot, and, of course, one can make a presumption that he is living comfortably enough inside the prison. So, the only stories which deserve amplified attention are Wahid, Kobad Gandhi, Pappu Yadav and JP. I would start with JP, the Mallu American. His case is important because it presents all aspects of prison life: he entered the prison like an ordinary prisoner, moved onto a higher category through sheer skill, received a setback, and moved up again. The manuevers required for a dignified existence in an atmosphere where basic amenities like toilet, food, sleep, etc, are unavailable but to a few are presented the best in this story. He had the wherewithal to buy the luxuries but somehow failed out of ignorance/stupidity/stinginess/misplaced ethics and suffered unnecessarily. The suffering presents a lesson to all that it’s best to carry your present status into the prison, which gets transported best through the money you possess; so, if you have it, use it. Pappu Yadav story is important because, as per his own admission, he is the pioneer of the VIP culture in prisons. He of course started like an ordinary prisoner, young at the age of 17. His parents dreamt of him as a US NRI, but his destiny took him to an uncommon career progression in tandem with his prison life extending for nearly quarter-century. So, indeed he is the connoisseur of all the delicacies of the prison canteens. When you have to live your life in and out of the prison, you hardly have any choice in the matters of love, but if you are a believer in “Love at First Sight” à la Pappu Yadav, well…you can even find love from inside the prison with your entrepreneurship skills. Pappu Yadav has himself written a book entitled Drohkaal Ka Pathik. I have a feeling it would be a primer on prison entrepreneurship, whose trailer is presented in Behind Bars. Kobad Gandhi is a struggle of a 70-year-old human body to survive in a hostile atmosphere, which is doing everything possible to deny it its existence. Fortunately, this 70-year-old body still had a flourishing mind bred in Doon, Xavier’s, and London, which petitioned and appealed incessantly for a dignified existence. The threat to the existence originated not only from the prison authorities but also from the inmates, who presented themselves the vilest in the form of the scary Bladebaazs. This story shows how the system conspires against the political prisoners, ironically, by depriving them of a status just that. At 70, you can hardly rebel. So, the grant of a status of that of a political prisoner in a prison in Andhra Pradesh, which claims to have eradicated prison corruption, is a reason enough to bring a smile and a cheer – indeed, Tihar was the worst. Wahid is the most difficult and the most unfortunate case. It is a case of an acquitted Islāmic “terrorist”, where the IB directly supervises terror through its informal police organs. Of course, the IB itself never comes into the picture and nor has the author given any hints of its complicity, but courtesy another author, i.e Mushrif in his book Who Killed Karkare, we pretty much know how things operate. However, what we don’t know are the gory details of torture techniques employed by police forces against the suspected “ terrorists”, which has been narrated vividly by Wahid to the author, and author has reflected it sincerely in the book. Another learning is the modus operandi of the co-conspirators, who range from doctors to judges. This is an existence beyond imagination. The yearning for dignity in the form of clean toilets, potable food, proper sleep, looks frivolous before the sufferings of a third degree torture at “180 degree”. I think this book is a must read for anybody and everybody, irrespective of their propensity to ever go to a prison even as a tourist because in the present atmosphere of mass surveillance, this is pretty much what life can become even outside the prison. Click to Post

[lonelier-version-of-you]

Well, I enjoyed most of that. It was all a bit melodramatic, but enjoyably melodramatic. Is this the first episode Sunetra Sarker has produced? If so, she did a good job. That combined with the fact that this episode was written by Stephen McAteer was pretty much a recipe for it to be good.

The stuff with Jan and Ffion and the hostage situation was excellent. As I said, melodramatic, but I thought it was really well done. Di Botcher and Stirling Gallacher are both very very good actors, Jan and Ffion’s relationship feels so real.

Mark... I don’t remember his last name, but he’s the one who played the guy who took everyone hostage, he was very good as well. Even if it felt very odd to see him play someone other than Ben Harding.

The writing for Dave (the guy who took everyone hostage) was really good, too. Between the writing and the acting, they really managed to convey just how broken Dave was by his grief and how he had nothing left to lose and how he didn’t know who to blame. And the moment when Jan was talking him down, because her own son may not have died, but she still lost him... that connection was so powerful and sad.

I totally freaked out for a second there when the gun went off and Jan was lying still, though. Casualty’s last Bury Your Gays only a matter of months ago probably gave me trust issues with this show, I guess. But I was very relieved when Jan turned out to be just fine.

Also, I may have teared up when Ffion finally realised that she still needs Jan and they reunited. It was such a sweet moment.

Ethan and Stevie, though... what on Earth is going on there? What are the writers trying to achieve with Stevie’s character? I genuinely don’t know at this point. Stevie, while not a very good person, is an incredibly fascinating character to watch - Elinor Lawless plays her magnificently - but I don’t know where the show is trying to take her from here.

If she’s just going to be a normal cast member, why did they introduce her with this whole revenge storyline? That’s not exactly going to make viewers warm to her, is it?

(Also, Ethan, as per usual, is too nice for his own good.)

Faith got way more scenes tonight than I would’ve liked... and I know she doesn’t know the full truth yet about what happened to led to Ethan getting stabbed, but she has been told that there’s more going on than she knows about, so why is she trying to get involved? Shouldn’t she just realise it’s not her business and back off? (Also, they’re still making a point of putting her back in scenes with Dylan again... I am not looking forward to the very obvious Iain/Faith/Dylan love triangle that’s going to come from this. I’d bet you anything Faith will properly get with Dylan, then have an affair with Iain, and the writers will think they’re so clever for having Dylan’s romantic interest cheat on him with Iain AGAIN. Sigh.)

Speaking of Dylan, we didn’t get that much of him tonight, but what we did get I greatly appreciated. Him telling Ethan and Stevie that “Now, I’m gonna go on a jolly long walk, and have a long think about why exactly it is that I do this job” was legitimately HILARIOUS. His best line of dialogue in ages, even better than the one about Ethan and Matthew “squabbling over who has the longest... stethoscope” a while back.

That line also had the exact same energy as Henrik promoting Dom and giving him the Clinical Lead job on Keller back in May simply because “Alright, fine, it’s your mess, you deal with it, I’ve had enough for one day” lmao. I want Dylan and Henrik to meet up and just complain to each other about how they hate their respective leadership jobs and don’t know why they keep doing them lolll.

Anyway, next week, we get Dylan, an autistic man who is a recovering alcoholic, treating a woman with cerebral palsy who is also a recovering alcoholic. In an episode written by Dana Fainaru and produced by Sunetra Sarker. So I don’t know about any of you, but I think that sounds very promising. As the cool kids of the internet say, I am excite.

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Week 12 Blog

The Glassblower's Breath

Sunetra Gupta

Pgs:154- 215

Words: 406

Summary

Aviskek although a very envious character also has a sweet spot, especially when it comes to his cousin. The Novel goes back in time to when they were a lot younger. The character was supposed to move to a foreign land so she hd to leave behind her rabbit Andropov. Aviskek, being the person that he is, was jealous of her relationship with her rabbit so he went out and rescued a squirrel from the market who would have ended up being someone's dinner. He nursed it back to health as it ws weak from starvation.But the sweet side becomes bitter when he placed the squirrel into the hands of a taxidermist. Back to present time, the novel focuses it's attention onto Sparrow who had found a diary of a man. He did why no one should do, open it and read the content. The diary compared the human race to the dog species saying that we struggle to find order within the intractable universe. Sparrow and the owner of the diary seem to get along just fine, he was not at all bothered at the fact that Sparrow had invaded his private thoughts.

Critical Thinking

In the novel we often see the main character reminiscing about her past life and lovers, “Your hands grip each other’s as knotted steel.” This sentence is implying exactly what it is saying, that their grip is so strong they compare it to steel which is one of the heftiest metals. Throughout the novel we see the main characters different qualities but heartless hasn’t been one until now when the novel states “On the night that you left him, no comfort had been more profound than to return to the unadulterated darkness of your unoccupied room, to rest against the richness of solitude, weep grateful tears into the holy night.” She had left the poor guy because he couldn't sleep. After leaving him she felt a sense of relieve and peace. Perhaps she is the kind of person to take love but not give or maybe that relationship was not meant to be.

Personal Response

I cannot wait to be finished with this book. My current disappointment is that at the beginning of the novel they speak of the main character's deceased sister and don't bring her up again for another few hundred pages where her appearance is very brief and not to mention extremely dark and grim.

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Week 8 Blog

The Glassblower’s Breath

Sunetra Gupta

Pages:1-70

Words: 625

Summary

The novel is written in second point of view. From the beginning we are aware of the character’s sister who was ill and passed away. The character has a bad dream about her sister which she describes as “dark” and “ghostly.” Her sister has a daughter who the character took custody of. During this time the character seeks comfort and from a man by the name of Jonathan Sparrow. Further in the novel she mentions finding  the man of her life, Alexander, who she moved with to the place of her dreams, London.  Although she had all that she could ever wish for she also felt that something was missing. She speaks about her niece not grieving for her mother as she was very little. She doesn’t have any relationships with others, her strongest relationship is with a toy. But recently she had been invited to her first party since they moved to London. Guilty memories often flood through the character’s mind as she remembers wallowing with her sister’s husband while waiting for her to give birth to their daughter. Perhaps she had inappropriate relations with the sister’s husband as the novel states that she couldn’t tell her sister the ugly pain of her husbands shadow mingling with another woman. The niece was waiting for her aunt to drop her off at the party but instead her aunt was hanging out with Alexander in his study. The character receives a letter about the family mansion being sold and she feels angry and griefs by reminiscing about a past lover by the name of Vladimir. The character falls ill and there is a feud between Alexander and Vladimir.

Critical Thinking

The character in the novel is very promiscuous but probably does not realize it. Even though she cant see for her own she sees for others as she exposes her sister’s husband by saying “When during the act of love, his pleasure would suddenly divorce itself from the presence of another’s flesh, only in climax would he reach for an image, not always the face before him, in fact, almost never.” I is interesting here that the author uses the word divorce when she could have said dismiss and meant roughly the same thing. However, divorce has a more negative connotation, which is important because he is being unfaithful to his wife.  The character is blind to her actions but the people around her are well aware as the novel states “you had a eagerly  showing him a letter, pressed flat in the folder, a yellowed letter from your maternal grandfather describing the pleasures of walking in Hyde Park on a clear Sunday morning. Avishek remembers, among the mush of unfamiliar script, one clear English word- Serpentine.” Based on the fact that Avishek said that he only remembers the word serpentine from the letter, I am inferring that something else must be true that we were not told directly. Specifically, I can now tell that Avishek is aware of her behavior she must have done something to him that caused him to  remember the word serpentine. She is the serpentine.

Personal Response

My personal thought about this book is  that I do not like it at all. Its extremely confusing as the author jumps around with many different ideas as you may be able to see in my summary. In addition she ha so many past or current lovers that I am lost half of the time, I can’t keep up with all of the different men. The character seems like the worst person anyone has been unfortunate to know. And the way the author states things is confusing, it feels like reading Shakespeare without a guide. I am really not enjoying his book.