Book Box: How to build a mountain house
These days I am either waiting for electricians or stonemasons or plumbers. Building a house in the mountains sounds romantic I know —but wait until you spend long moments arguing with a wood polish man who insists ebony is chestnut brown.
When the cement work goes awry, I take a deep breath, and think of Peter Mayle doing repairs on a farmhouse in the French countryside in A Year in Provence. Mayle's genius is turning disaster into comedy, his self-deprecating charm making even the most infuriating mishaps feel like part of the adventure. That's the spirit, I tell myself. Someday, this will be a funny story too. Smile - and take all the squelch and snafus in your stride.
Never mind that the wooden beams have been laid in the wrong direction, that the electricity has been gone all day and that the wood polish man is still insisting his shade of ebony is identical to the chestnut brown sample - surely this will make a good story. And surely Peter Mayle endured all this and worse. And after all isn't this the life-in-the-Himalayan-mountains-dream that we city types are forever chasing ?
In the evenings, I return to the little room by the building site, too exhausted to do much else but gaze at the ceiling above me. Are those rafters even symmetrical and why on earth is there a gap between the beams - and why is this trailing black wire tacked on top — my brain refuses to shut down.
Then I open a little novella by Italian writer Vincenzo Latronico, aptly entitled Perfection. I mean to escape into a book that will soothe me - instead I find one that holds up a mirror to me.
Shortlisted for this year's International Booker Prize, this novella dissects the illusions of aesthetic perfection. It tells the story of Tom and Anna, two designers who live in Berlin - in a light filled art deco apartment with tangled foliage, where plants shelter in the nook of a bay window, complete with a Scandinavian farm chair, and an artfully placed magazine left face-down on the seat.
Theirs is the perfect life, going to art galleries, working on their laptops after lazy lunches in trendy cafes. Their world is beautiful, but it's also a performance, an illusion of a carefully created life. And Latronico's brilliance lies in exposing the fissures beneath this curated existence. Is this what I do too, I wonder ? Do I curate my reality ?
I pick my phone and scroll through the pictures I sent my friends. Each one tells a beautiful story. In one shot from our picnic by a waterfall, my friends are stretched out onto a sunlit rock. In another, their two black dogs are splashing in the green foam flecked water against mountainsides covered with deodar trees. It all looks blissful and idyllic - a far cry from spending all day sweltering in the sun waiting for a stone mason.
The next morning, sunlight floods the room, and for a moment, I consider staging the perfect shot—laptop on a blue blanket, mountains in the background, the illusion of effortless creativity. But Perfection has made me hyper aware of the frames we choose. And of what lies outside the frame of my iPhone.
I look again. And now I see the greasy omelette on a melamine plate, the chaos of half-unpacked boxes, and sneakers gritty with construction debris.
'Reality didn't often live up to the pictures. In the mornings it often would.' says the narrator in Perfection. It's a line that lingers with me. The magic of books like these is how they reflect our own contradictions back at us. Reading Mayle has taught me to laugh at the mess; Latronico teaches me to see beyond the frame. And when this house is finally standing, I'll owe its soul not to the perfect beams, but to the crooked ones—and the books that helped me love them.
And you dear Reader, do you have your own frames? What do you capture and what do you leave out ?
(Sonya Dutta Choudhury is a Mumbai-based journalist and the founder of Sonya's Book Box, a bespoke book service. Each week, she brings you specially curated books to give you an immersive understanding of people and places. If you have any reading recommendations or reading dilemmas, write to her at sonyasbookbox@gmail.com. The views expressed are personal.)
Get 360° coverage—from daily headlines to 100 year archives.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Hindustan Times
42 minutes ago
- Hindustan Times
Malditos on OTT: Here's where you can watch Céline Sallette's French crime drama in India
The chaotic lives of a family where crime and fight for survival go hand-in-hand are at the centre of this French drama series. The story revolves around a Gypsy community and their struggles in life amid rising floodwaters. Cooked up by the brilliant minds of Jean Charles Hue and Olivier Prieur, Malditos stands tall as a high-stakes wild ride where family loyalty is put to the ultimate test. Starring Céline Sallette, the French drama is set to make its India release soon this August. Malditos When and where to watch Malditos series? The French crime drama Malditos is releasing soon on JioHotstar (also accessible via OTTplay Premium) on August 25, 2025. Malditos first released on Max in May this year, and is making its India debut after two months. The mini-series has 7 episodes, each with a runtime of almost 45-50 minutes. What's the story of the Malditos series? Deep in the wild southern Camargue region of France, a thrilling tale unfolds in the drama, introducing Sara, the matriarch of her family with two adult sons, and the leader of a Gypsy community. However, trouble is brewing in paradise when the rising water levels threaten the community by swallowing their homes. With the Gypsy people's backs against the wall, Sara and her two sons force themselves to delve into the criminal world to keep their beloved community safe. However, things get more complicated with the hidden secrets of Sara and her family that have been locked away for several years. As Sara and her sons navigate the dangerous waters and fight for their lives, the family must also face their past. The thrilling fight against the forces of nature and the law is now intertwined with a dark history. What are the highlights of Malditos series? The show promises to be an engrossing watch as it delves into the lives of the gypsy community, while adding the fictional plot of feuding mafia families. Malditos captures the different atmosphere and the way of life of thie Romani community. Céline Sallette plays the matriarch Sara, along with Damien Bonnard, Pablo Cobo, and Darren Muselet.
Time of India
3 hours ago
- Time of India
A heartwarming & heartbreaking tale
A scene from the play (BCCL/ Aditya Yadav) The play Daddy, directed by Surya Mohan Kulshrestha, was recently staged at Sangeet Natak Akademi. Inspired by the play Le Père by French writer Florian Zeller , the production deeply moved the audience with the emotional journey of a father suffering from dementia. The play delved into the life of a devoted daughter and her aging father. While the daughter grapples with her own dreams, love, and aspirations, she also shouldered the weighty responsibility of caring for her ailing father. A scene from the play (L) Arushi Singh (R) Bhanu and Preeti (L) Dhruv and Tanya Rishi (R) Dolly Rastogi Dr Mithilesh & Mandvi Singh The unique perspective of the play took the audience on an immersive exploration of dementia's effects, revealing how memory shapes our understanding of the world and those around us. As the father's mind drifts back to his childhood, his late mother becomes his sole refuge. (L) Gopal Sinha (R) Dr Alok Dhawan and Pankaj Prasun (L) Sudhir Kumar Singh (R) KumKum Dhar (L) Lata Rastogi (R) Tariq Khan Silence took over the hall, and the emotionally moved audience stood to applaud. Dr Anil Rastogi, who portrayed the role of the father, was highly appreciated for his powerful performance. — Manas Mishra Stay updated with the latest local news from your city on Times of India (TOI). Check upcoming bank holidays , public holidays , and current gold rates and silver prices in your area. Get the latest lifestyle updates on Times of India, along with Happy Krishna Janmashtami Wishes ,, messages , and quotes !
Time of India
3 hours ago
- Time of India
A saree at the Taj, and the gentle strength of women together
Barsha Nag Bhowmick has an opinion on anything and everything. A scribe for more than two decades, she writes on various topics including art, literature, relationships, lifestyle and anything that arouses her interest from time to time. When not into writing, she paints. Follow @barshanag on Twitter LESS ... MORE Sometimes, it isn't grand gestures or sweeping speeches that remind you of the world's beauty. It's something small, unexpected, and full of grace… like a pair of helping hands appearing at just the right moment. Earlier this month, at the Taj Mahal in Agra, two Italian women found themselves in a fix. On their first visit to the monument, they had chosen to drape themselves in sarees. Perhaps drawn to the elegance of this six-yard wonder, perhaps wanting to step into the story, the Taj whispers into the Yamuna breeze. But somewhere between the marble arches and the warm, sunlit pathways, the folds came loose. A saree unravelling in a public place is not just about fabric. It's about that sudden vulnerability, the awkward shuffling, and the quiet panic that shows in your eyes. That's when a woman constable on duty noticed. She didn't just glance and move on. She walked towards them, steady and sure. The crisp uniform gave her an air of authority. But her smile softened it instantly. In the now-viral clip, she bends down a little, showing them how to tuck the pleats in. One fold, then another. Her hands move with the ease of someone who grew up around sarees. Not just wearing them, but understanding them as a piece of heritage. The women listened like eager students, smiling in relief. Their awkwardness dissolving into shared laughter. They thanked her warmly, but perhaps what they took back with them was more than the lesson in how to pleat a saree. It was a lesson in how women, complete strangers even, often hold each other up without ceremony or fuss. In that moment or short exchange, the constable wasn't just a police officer. She was a bit of a teacher, maybe even a sister. And just another woman making sure someone else could straighten her back, fix her pleats, and walk on with confidence. In India, we often say Atithi Devo Bhava, the guest is divine. But here, the welcome wasn't in formal words or official arrangements. It was in the human touch, the readiness to help, the unspoken understanding that dignity matters as much as beauty. This kind of quiet, unspoken solidarity reminds me of something that happened to me once. Not in some grand place like the Taj Mahal. Just an everyday moment that's stayed with me. It was during a routine, ordinary trip to a departmental store. The kind where the aisles feel too full… bottles of vindaloo sauce balanced next to eggs and all sorts of things you didn't plan to buy. Somewhere in that rush, I realised my hands were aching under the weight of the bags. Every new item felt heavier than it should have. That's when I saw her. An elderly woman in a violet salwar kameez. She must have noticed the way I was shifting from one hand to the other, because she stepped in without a word and simply… took over. She gently rearranged the bags I was holding, carefully tucking things into place. 'Are you okay?' she asked at least thrice, her voice calm. 'Aur kuch arrange karna hai?' I felt a gentle warmth spread through me. The kind that settles in before you even notice it. That small act of kindness seemed to make everything a little lighter. Before I could say a word, she was gone. I stood there, bags pulling at my fingers, scanning the flow of people for her face. Nothing. She had already disappeared into the steady shuffle of feet and the low hum of voices around me. That day, like at the Taj, I was reminded that kindness doesn't always come wrapped in speeches or smiles for the camera. Sometimes it slips past you quietly, asking for nothing, and yet it stays with you, like the faint warmth in your palms after holding someone's hand. In both instances, women, whether in uniform or salwar kameez… stepped in, holding each other up in the smallest yet most significant ways. They showed me that helping hands don't need to be loud. Their presence doesn't demand attention, but it certainly deserves gratitude. These moments of connection, whether at the Taj Mahal or in a grocery store aisle, serve as quiet reminders that, at the heart of it all, we are all in this together. And isn't that what makes such moments unforgettable? When women come together, they weave something quiet yet powerful. They make the world softer, not weaker. They offer help not from pity, but from instinct. The instinct to see, to step in, to care. That day at the Taj, a saree was saved from slipping, yes. But something more precious was held together: the thread of kindness that can bind strangers across cultures, languages, and continents. And in the grocery store, a few bags got a little lighter, yes. More than that, something else eased, the quiet sense that even in a crowd of strangers, someone might notice, someone might help. It wasn't grand, but it was enough to make the day feel softer. These are the moments that remind us that the world, for all its noise, still holds its gentle music. Facebook Twitter Linkedin Email Disclaimer Views expressed above are the author's own.
