Skip to main content

BOOK REVIEW : THE SORCERY OF THE SENSES


REVIEWING: 

THE SORCERY OF THE SENSES

AUTHOR: TANIMA DAS MITRA

GENRE: FANTASY/THRILLER


Spanning multiple timelines, civilizations and eras, the Sorcery Of The Senses takes you on a surreal journey right from the prologue. This saga explores significant past lives of our protagonist Dhruv who embarks upon a quest to find a fabled, mysterious stone with the help of 'The Senses'.

The five senses are personified and they,  as Dhristi and Sparsha give Dhruv glimpses of his incarnations where he has the possession of the stone, but loses it everytime due to situations which are not in his control. Sometimes, destiny was at play and sometimes human greed and envy.

This in turn gives us the sub-plots and chapters of Ghriz and M0ng where the story unravels further.

Cleverly crafted right down from the  names of the characters, towns and locales in each of the distinct episodes, the author has even devised an entire new fictional language for them which is apt for the scenarios. 

Be it a ritual, a custom, a form of addressing and endearment, or even the attires and certain gestures incorporated, all point to the mega imagination the author has, to weave this fantasy interspersed with period drama(?)--- (I hope I'm using the right words here. Please correct me if I'm wrong)

Five year old Ghriz stole my heart with her innocence and cherubic face–here I have to mention that SDT is par excellence and I could picture Ghriz's expression, her childlike laughter, and the wonder in her eyes when she spots the Rikitisi deer in the Nakesia forest with her super vision. 

The story takes a leap when Ghriz advances in age and goes though the first flushes of love, love lost, betrayal and finally finding her courage to lead her tribe with the powers of the stone. The character arc of Ghriz as she comes into her own is what is so inspiring. 

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness when the stone falls into the wrong hands and Ghriz exits her mortal body, falling prey to treachery and deception by her most trusted. 

In one of his past lives as M0ng, Dhruv is sightless but blessed with a touch of healing. It's an irony that the sense of sight has totally forsaken him this time. 

Again, the matters of the heart are her/his bane and it's looked down upon as it's  outside acceptable societal norms. He/she falls prey to stately conspiracies and betrayal. 

A pattern seems to have been set and Dhruv must break this chain to learn his soul purpose and lessons.  

M0ng's episode was a mini mytho-fiction and I was immensely engrossed with the backstory of Bingwen Bitang and Biyu. It was a cinematic experience with vast gardens, moonlit nights, the decor and interiors of the palaces. 

Biyu's character arc was so well drawn-out. I would call her my favourite of all in this segment. From a docile, devoted wife and queen to a conniving schemer with the entry of M0ng in her husband's life, she plays the role of the 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' to the hilt when she puts an end to M0ng in a macabre manner. And everyone else too who had given her a raw deal. 

Although I empathized with M0ng, Biyu had grey shades which I admired more and made  her realistic.

Death comes as a brutal end in both the incarnations of Ghriz and M0ng marked by deception and stately conspiracies. The holy stone goes missing from Dhruv's possession everytime and time is running out. 

The Senses are not very pleased and want to recover it before the evil forces annihilate the universe and all life forces along with the Senses from it. 

(Maybe this expounds the theory that we're living in a simulated matrix and we create our own realities with it ? And without the senses, the entire universe would collapse unto itself?) 

Meanwhile in the present incarnation, Dhruv is battling to save his marriage which has hit rock-bottom, but seeing the futility of it, both he and his wife Juthika  decide to part ways amicably. Dhruv is able to recover a part of the stone as he goes along, while the other piece is still in possession of the evil forces. 

Will Dhruv trace it before the clock stops ticking?

Will he be the saviour of our Universe?

Will he succeed in his mission this time?

Who are the evil agents in this present lifetime?

Are some of the characters in his present life the same vile ones from his existence as Ghriz and M0ng?

Can he recognise the good from bad this time or fall prey to double-crossing again?

The story ends as a cliffhanger with the promise of a duology or a trilogy on the horizon. 

Waiting with bated breath to read more of Dhruv's adventure on this treasure hunt…and if possible to be introduced to the remaining two Senses and a couple more of his past lives as well.

The author has taken care to lay a strong foundation for each of the supporting characters.

Every twist and turn the story took had ample logic and reasoning behind it. Everyone had their moment to shine with meaty roles, even though the story revolved around M0ng, Dhruv and Ghriz.

Kudos Tanima !💚

Well rounded off with all ends tied up nice and good. If this was a movie, it would be a blockbuster! 

And I already have your autograph to flaunt…so I'm one lucky girl🤩 

Good luck and best wishes to The Sorcery Of The Senses to have a roaring success 💚✨

©️ Sangeetha Kamath 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ANAM CARA

The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see.  A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird , its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has sai...

BOKETTO

  In my quiet moments, I pause the world from its frantic pace. In that stillness, I wistfully gaze into the distance and just let things unfurl as they please. I let my thoughts flow, absorbing nothing. Internalizing nothing. And just like that, the strands of tightly woven twine untangle and the knots come loose. Today, as usual, I found myself caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily grind. I was rushing to get things done, stressing about deadlines, and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tasks on my to-do list. But then, I took a deliberate pause. With a deep breath, I stretched, stepped away from my desk, and walked out onto my balcony. Leaning on the railing, I looked down at the familiar lanes of my neighborhood, twirling around the corners behind the blocks of apartments.  The park and playground stood deserted at noon amid the cluster of flowering trees and surrounded by the hedges lining the curbs. I gazed at the sky, feeling the warm sun on my face and ...

ARIEL AND BLUE-BLOOD SHOES

  The waves crashed violently against the craggy mountainside and the moonlight shone on the lacy froths. As I waded through the water and stepped on the wet sand, I remembered another night which was many moons ago. The same glinting lights through the palace doorways and windows, the fireworks adorning the night sky like shooting stars and meteors. A royal celebration with all the works and the guests dressed up in their best finery and aristocratic jewelry. Of noble births they all were. Blue blooded as the matriarch had pointedly told me once.  That unholy night! That night of icy hearts and howling laughter, the echoes of cackling that followed me till I ran on wobbly legs to find my place of comfort where the land met water… Hot tears streaming down, I regretted those days when I lost my heart to a man so spineless. Had I not dragged him to the shore, he would have been a mangled mass after being torn apart by the piranhas and other monstrous maws.  How I regret…Oh!...

CHẠ̀WKHRĀW (Chxw̒kh rxw̒)

  As usual, at the dot of 8 pm, the Guzheng plays its stirring chords, the haunting notes beginning a slow sweep, rising to a powerful crescendo and alternating with a tranquil ebbing of melody surfing me along the waves of soul-stirring, yet a serene stretch of an hour every day.  I make it a point to sit right beside my dining room window to bask in this lulling sound therapy as my neighbor downstairs diligently plays on this zither, oblivious to my admiration. What a luxury it is to have a live orchestra while I savour the last meal of the day. It's a welcome distraction to the otherwise jarring squabbling of the playful neighbourhood children.  The Chạ̀wkhrāw of this– that the musical household might move one day is a foreboding thought. Foreshadowing this, deeply ingrained in me is the shattering news I had received upon returning to Singapore after an 8 month absence here.  The Ramadan festive season was fast approaching at the end of March but the apar...

HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIDE

The sleek steel grey landline with it's cordless handset gleams in the mid morning sunlight. It's only a fixture on the tabletop these past several years yet loved and flaunted for old times sake. Also, for the numerous times the handset had nestled in our palms. The vintage feel of it and the stronghold of memories I associate it with beats the smartphone by miles.  It has in turn been a confidante of our precious moments, some idling talk, some annoyance oh yes ! and all before Whatsapp made an entry into our lives and the poor dear was no longer in demand. The world was at our fingertips. It doesn't complain, doesn't whimper, not even a sigh, murmur or a slightest hint at a whisper of life for the past decade and more! Except… On Thursday the daylights were socked out of me! Lost in mundane chores, I had my gloved hands deep in a pile of soapy water scrubbing away at the breakfast dishes. The usual swell of silence was harshly rend by the landline from the livin...