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professionalqueerbookworm · 2 years

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Queer Reviews: Farhad J. Dadyburjor, "The Other Man".

CW: explicit sexual content, homophobia, fear of coming out

Plot: Heir to his father’s Mumbai business empire, Ved Mehra has money, looks, and status. He is also living as a closeted gay man. Thirty-eight, lonely, still reeling from a breakup, and under pressure from his exasperated mother, Ved agrees to an arranged marriage. He regrettably now faces a doomed future with the perfectly lovely Disha Kapoor. Then Ved’s world is turned upside down when he meets Carlos Silva, an American on a business trip in India. As preparations for his wedding get into full swing, Ved finds himself drawn into a relationship he could never have imagined―and ready to take a bold step. Ved is ready to embrace who he is and declare his true feelings regardless of family expectations and staunch traditions. But with his engagement party just days away, and with so much at risk, Ved will have to fight for what he wants―if it’s not too late to get it.

8/10 on the Rainbow Scale™ 🌈: This was lovely ❤️ I was worried it would be too angsty for me, but it managed to be lighthearted while still being sincere. All the characters are well rounded and interesting, you can understand each one's motivations and fears. It's an honest and realistic depiction, but it still left me with a smile on my face. I can't say anything else without spoiling you 😂😂😂 Go buy this NOW!

#queer reads #lgbtq books #book review #book recommendations #farhad j. dadyburjor #the other man #gay #mlm lit #romance #romcom

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happilylostinwords · 2 months

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Reviewed: "The Other Man" by Farhad J. Dadyburjor

Farhad J. Dadyburjor’s The Other Man is a story that delivers the message that it is never too late to claim the identity you want your life to have. It may be absolutely terrifying to face family, friends, and society at large and announce who you want to be and who you are, but you should do it. Try to do it as best you can. The Other Man shows that the only wrong answer is in living by…

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#book reviews #Farhad J. Dadyburjor #lgbtq+ novels #The Other Man #translated books

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revisited-library · 2 years

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Two Quick Reviews: The Other Man and The Novelist

(Both cover photos from Goodreads)

The Other Man by Farhad J. Dadyburjor feels very much like a wish-fulfillment fantasy and a cliché all in one. I wouldn’t say that I liked it very much, but I didn’t dislike it. It’s about a closeted gay man in India who’s the relatively young scion of a major company and a workaholic. His parents arrange a marriage for him, and he thinks that if he comes out, he’ll disappoint everyone, and his world will implode so he agrees to do it. Immediately after, he meets a guy on Grindr who’s only going to be in India for a month (incidentally, his wedding is in a month) and falls in love, yadda yadda, etc. Except our main character doesn’t tell him that he’s engaged and doesn’t tell his family or his fiancée… So for me, this was incredibly frustrating to read because… Just open your dang mouth. And the ending was just too neat for my liking. I’ll give this one a 2/5 stars, but I enjoyed it well enough.

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The Novelist by Jordan Castro was an entirely unpleasant experience. Sure, it was well-written but I’m really reminded that some men who think they’re good writers are really just pretentious twats who are enabled by people who really should just be taking their keyboard privileges away. I finished this book, but it was incredibly difficult. I really worked hard on this one, guys, just because a lot of professional reviews said it really spoke to the contemporary experience of trying to write something but instead by constantly distracted by Twitter, Instagram, life, dogs, spouses… Instead I got a ramble that included a multiple-page-long section on poop. That makes this our first 0/5 stars.

#bookblr #book blog #book review

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lgbtqreads · 4 years

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August 2020 Book Deal Announcements

Adult

Farhad Dadyburjor‘s THE OTHER MAN, an urban gay rom-com about love and longing in Mumbai, dealing with the crazy pressures of family expectations, the staunch traditions of Indian society, and how the power of love can change everything, to Chris Werner at Lake Union Publishing, in a very nice deal, in a pre-empt, for publication in fall 2021, by Priya Doraswamy at Lotus Lane Literary…

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26lettersandmanyjourneys · 2 years

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Bought myself some new books with a voucher I got from my grandparents for Nikolaus (German festivity on the 6th of December). And yes, I was a bit petty and only choose queer books - my grandparents may never have been openly homophobic, but they are catholic enough that I can only give them access to a certain part of my wishlist

#arrivals #books #lore & lust #karla nikole #the other man #farhad j. dadyburjor #green rising #lauren james #26lettersandmanyjourneys #look at me annoying the catholics #i love my grandparents but I am definitely not coming out to them #homophobia

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topshelf2112-blog · 3 years

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Welcome to New Release Tuesday!

Thanks to some birthday gift cards, I have quite a haul this week!

#Benjamin Alire Saenz #josh malerman #Farhad J Dadyburjor #zack smedley #margaret verble #j s barnes #kat rosenfield #new release tuesday

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infactforgetthepark · 2 years

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[Free eBooks] 10 Free Books from Amazon Imprints [World Literature, Multiple Genres, Kids]

To celebrate international World Book Day, Amazon are offering 10 free Kindle ebooks from their assorted exclusive publishing imprints, through Wednesday, April 27th, and is available in all the regional Amazon stores worldwide. The selection showcases world literature from assorted countries, and includes multiple genres, fiction and non-, from personal and travel memoirs to literary, fantasy, historical, romantic and mystery fiction, and even a children's picture book.

Here is their dedicated “Discover World Book Day” promo page which provides the links to all the freebies on the main Amazon.com site and a filtered search for the regional sites. NB: some countries' selections might be slightly different due to geographic restrictions, but here are the ones offered free in North America & the UK

The Puma Years by Laura Coleman, a travel memoir to the Amazon jungle in Bolivia

The Ardent Swarm by Yamen Nagai translated by Lara Vergnaud, a literary fiction novel from Tunisia

North to Paradise by Ousman Umar translated by Kevin Gerry Dunn, a memoir relating the harrowing experiences of an immigrant boyhood which took him from Ghana to Barcelona

Where the Desert Meets the Sea by Werner Sonne, an historical fiction novel from Israel

An Eye For an Eye by Carol Wyer, a police procedural serial killer thriller from England

The Other Man by Farhad J. Dadyburjor, a romantic comedy from India

The Easy Life in Kamusari by Shion Miura, translated by Juliet Winters Carpenter, a contemporary coming of age literary novel from Japan

Mother Dear by Nova Lee Maier translated by Jozef van der Voort, a thriller novel from the Netherlands

To the Sky Kingdom by Tang Qi translated by Poppy Toland, an epic fantasy novel from China

The Caiman by María Eugenia Manrique illustrated by Ramón París and translated by Amy Brill, a children's picture book about the friendship between a man and the baby alligator he adopts, from Venezuela

Offered free worldwide through Wednesday, April 27th until midnight local time in each region, available directly from Amazon. NB: also, just as a warning, Amazon seems to have recently and stealthily changed their Kindle ebook gifting options, so that the recipient can no longer easily exchange a duplicate or unwanted title for store credit, and the sender can no longer get a refund after a short time limit, and their new gift link redemption page tries to trick you into auto-adding rather than contacting Customer Service. So, caveat emptor if you buy or receive any, which personally I wouldn't do from now on while this issue lasts.

#free ebook #world literature #literary fiction #memoir #mystery #historical fiction #fantasy #romantic comedy #children's literature #travel

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ureadblog-blog-blog · 11 years

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Book Excerpt: Farhad Dadyburjor's 'How I Got Lucky'

Pre-order your copy for Rs 188 on uRead.com and get free shipping: http://www.uread.com/book/how-i-got-lucky-farhad/9788184003147

If only you thought about it.

Railway stations were matrimonial ads in disguise—waiting to happen; a love paradise abandoned of its reaping. Faces criss-crossed in a hurry, everyone rushing somewhere, with their pliant guises of variable emotions firmly set in their outer masks. It wasn’t a large stretch: hope, fear, anxiety were the regulars. The rest were just deadened in anger, creased by non-love. And yet, with a sliver of eye contact...perhaps it could all change.

Raman scratched his outer thigh. It was the state of the city; it was what it demanded. Lock your doors and sleep light. And if you get a spare moment—pray. Pray that someone loves you. Your servants love you. Your watchman. The early morning unrecognisable newspaper boy. This was important. It could be life-enhancing. As for money—oh yes, money—there was plenty of that. It was half-regarded. Not reason enough.

Your life is just another commodity in abundant supply.

Ask anyone who lives in a city.

**************

Raman wiped his oily fingers on the outer wrapper of Lay’s Magic Masala and threw it away. Why couldn’t they make wrappers more absorbent, more tissue-like, so you didn’t have to spot the sides of your pants instead? As always, he felt that pull. That urgent knocking in the bottom of his bountiful bones. Advertising or marketing or some such wasteland of commercial creativity—that’s where he was meant to be. Group head. Marketing president. Creative director. He could see the toshed gold emblazoned name plate already. Soon. Very soon. But they’d have to pursue him. The truly talented never chased.

The platform was slushy with the polished slipperiness of fish basket sweat, that dirty bilious water that leaked from the edges. Raman squeaked as he entered the compartment—or rather, his shoes did as they heaved forward onto the high-stepper. Expensive sneakers came with an attitude: they sniggered at bad treatment. They too demanded equal rights like their leather contemporaries and aspired to walk on lush carpeted floors. And then it hit him full in the face. Raman raised his arms to shield himself, as if cowering from attack, but it was too late. He felt the full force of it, the intense vindication, the boisterous tang of heated armpits. His nostrils flared; he coughed, wheezed, as he tried to find a place under the fan. His eyes began watering, mist-filled, as the blades above him droned on. The air was too thick, too potent even for electricity. Raman moved to the door. It wasn’t much better. It seemed to be what everyone else had done.

‘What do you do?’

Raman looked up to see who was talking to him. He turned around. Still coughing, he looked down to be faced with a bobbing head.

‘What?’ asked Raman with a hint of alarm.

‘I mean, what do you do professionally?’

‘Why?’ Raman stared hard at the man. He remembered something, uncreased his brow and smiled gently. ‘Why?’ he asked pleasantly.

‘I’ve seen you somewhere,’ said the man plainly.

Raman had a theory: if you smiled, people were more inclined to be nice to you. Even if you had robbed, maimed, killed, or were about to. Smiling and lying went hand in hand. Scams, bust-ups, indiscretions, financial takeovers, political warfares, marriages had all succumbed to it. Well, as long as you didn’t grin shiftily, attracting suspicion. Lying was an art, really.

‘...Where?’ Raman stopped smiling. The man was still grinning gormlessly. ‘Where have you seen me?’

‘Aren’t you from TV?’

Raman’s eyes darted over the bristles of the little man’s moustache: unevenly patchy, hastily snipped, with bits of orange on one end. TV. Yes! He’d been on it. But how the hell did this twit remember? Five months on a game show. Prime time. 9 pm. In the audience. Well...what’d you know!

He used his best camera angle and pursed his lips. ‘Yes,’ said Raman, matter-of-factly. Life was suddenly everything he wanted it to be. He could bottle this moment and make it last forever. ‘And you?’ he asked.

‘Rahul Bhangari. BCom, CA, having business of hardware.’ The pudgy hand was outstretched. ‘Mobile, com-poo-ter, diary—electronic, latest models, CP209 mobile. With conference facility and micro-small earplug, water resistant, wireless. What you use?’

Marketing is a hard job in the world outside of trains. Working the phone, secretarial suck-ups, perspirational delays—almost as tough as dating. But here, if luck struck out, you just moved on to the next guy: on the right, left, back, or front, in the passageway. It was a breeze. Forget about call centers and rigging up your bio: No prior experience was required. Success rates were high. The lines used were the same, naturally. Everyone wanted to be from TV. No one ever was. But in a roomful of strangers, would you admit it? Other conversation hookers were Page 3, fashion shows, and nightclubs—altars of mass worship for everyone.

Raman gave an incomprehensible look. Far too many CPUs, OEMs, RAMs, hard and soft drives to take in at one time. He was confounded. It was all too overwhelming: the disabling motion of the train, the dancing pamphlets, and his controlled urge to fart. His eyes welled up.

‘Thanks,’ Raman murmured.

‘What com-poo-ter you use at home? The 568E Konkita with parallel folding speakers?’ The thick stubby fingers brushed open an extensive white folder.

There was only one other way to tackle this.

‘...Listen.’ Raman drew a deep breath and looked back to address the man. His body twitched. He peered at the man more closely.

‘You have place, my friend? Somewhere I can show you demonstration?’ The man’s thick upper lip was twitching, the nubby thumb subtly rubbing the outer flap of his crotch.

Oh, that’s another thing about the city. Everyone has a second job on the side. Everyone. But we’ll get to that later.

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‘If I didn’t know you so well.’ You obviously couldn’t, or shouldn’t, or needn’t, Raman felt like barking back into the phone. It was one of those that came from the family of ‘I love you but...’ Yeah. Trust words to dampen things, to abuse your dependence on them. Just when you needed not to hear, they always came through. They softened as you got hard. Words ought to be banned.

There was a pause on the other end. Lola breathed in hard. Her concern was audible. She said, ‘You really need to think about this shopping trip because the more you don’t...’ It sounded as if she were biting the phone. Digging her front teeth in for an absolving answer.

‘Sure,’ said Raman. ‘I’ll think about it. Seriously.’

Another pause. Another asthmatic gulp of breath.

‘Yup. Okay,’ said Lola, hanging up.

And that was it. For today. But there’d be another later, Raman knew. Everyday conversations. That’s what they really were. Nobody should waste time trying to figure them out, solving their apparent ineptitude. There would always be another one to follow soon. And another. Every single day of your life. Things never looked up in this department.

Raman sighed. He hated his life. His miserable, inconsequential existence. It loomed before him and he knew someday, at the end of it all, there would be nothing to write about. At 35, his life had come to a standstill. A full stop. But something inside kept banging on, raging on, trying hard to get out. He would keep letting loose occasionally.

A thought flashed.

He pulled out his pad. Grabbed his pen. And sat, pen poised in mid-air as he conjured up an inspiration. What was that again? He tried delaying the thought abortion. ‘After a point you stop fighting life—and accept what it gives you. But where do you go from there?’ Deep hmm, he thought, penning it down and then putting down the pen in satisfaction. For several more minutes he lovingly stared at the pad hoping to add any discarded remnants. And then looked at that other magical source of inspiration—at that very moment in time before his eyes there appeared two sad, middle-aged women in pantyhose and black eye-masks with red stilettos. One longingly sucking a lolly, another brushing back her hair with a knife. A rubber dog, a bowl of fish, and a naked man in a tub. Yes, MTV made reality look preposterously dull.

Oh hell, it was Sunday. Lazily, Raman slouched into the curve of the sofa. When in doubt: scout. He bummed the remote hard for another music channel. Munni badnaam hui, darrlling... The song screeched. It drew out. It seemed to be coming out loud, from somewhere down below. Somewhere between the crack of his ass. Damn! The cell phone.

‘Hello?’ said Raman.

‘Darling, where are you?’ a sharp tone boomed back.

Shit! What interview had he missed? His boss never just called. On a Sunday. ‘On the couch. At home,’ Raman said, panic creeping into his voice.

‘No darling!’ The words buzzed among strange zing-like sounds. Raman pressed the receiver hard to his ear to check if she’d hung up. ‘Where are you!’

His mind whirred for an answer. It was a game show moment. His time was running out.

‘Have you seen today’s issue of India NOW!? So tacky!’ said Shaailaa.

‘Oh, of course,’ said Raman, with the delayed acknowledgement of a half nod. ‘I read their lead on that Sonali from Vijayawada. She’s becoming really hot in modelling. Shaailaa, we should do a piece with her on ‘What Makes Sonali So Hot’ before India NOW! even think about roping in her twin Monali and doing something like a ‘Haute Sisters’ piece where they both...’ Raman stopped to envision the contents of his scoop only to see the shiny black of his screen staring back at him. He was talking to himself. Shaailaa had hung up after making her literary statement. She rarely cared for addendums.

Moments of nothingness, hours spent daydreaming of who’s popular. The life of a journo was tough. He hated the word: Journo. What the hell? He wasn’t a hack claiming to be a reporter who did celebrity interviews, but pretended to be a writer waiting to be a novelist. He was a dignified wordsmith. His terms, his words. No puff pieces, no ego massages. On occasion, Raman needed this self-justification like an internal mantra that he kept repeating to himself for sanity. Or else crashing to earth from fourteen floors above was his destiny.

He had flirted with suicide once. With a bottle of Benadryl. He slept leisurely and woke up 18 hours later. It was another day, just like any other. Nobody noticed. No one ever asks ‘How’re you doing?’ and really expects an answer. A nod or a groan was indication enough. You were still breathing. No one had time for anything more.

As if imitating a scene in his head, Raman suddenly rammed his crotch into the cushion. First slowly, then forcefully. When he was alone, aggression descended. He loved the grazing playfulness of it, the plump softness massaging the protruding hardness, the edges of the mirror work inlay that felt like teeth. He used the tassels to gently massage his balls. He felt the tingle, that vibrating sting that readies you up. But something was missing; something was not quite still there. The ambience—it had to be as per the latest clip going on in his head: Raw Military Action II. With his raging hard-on in hand, Raman got up and flung open the bedroom windows. The outside greyness loomed dramatically. The dark clouds dominated. It was time. He pitched back on bended knees, and sprayed into the air with violence as a few pigeons fluttered past.

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Excerpted with permission from Random House India. The book releases in early March on uRead.com at a discounted price of Rs 188. Click here to get your copy.

#farhad dadyburjor #farhad dadyburjor novel #how i got lucky #how i got lucky farhad dadyburjor #random house india #how i got lucky book excerpt

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revisited-library · 2 years

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The "Soon to be Read" list

Jawbone by Mónica Ojeda [complete, review probably skipping]

The Testaments by Margaret Atwood

The Other Man by Farhad J. Dadyburjor

The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

The Novelist by Jordan Castro

My Heart is a Chainsaw by Sephen Graham Jones [complete, review incoming]

Loveless by Alice Oseman [complete]

If This Gets Out by Sophie Gonzales & Cale Dietrich

What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher [complete]

(These are books I'm currently reading or have on hold at the library and am planning to write about here.)

#bookblr #reading

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lgbtqreads · 3 years

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New Releases: October 2021

The Citadel of Whispers by Kazim Ali (1st) YOU are Krishi, a Whisperer studying ancient, secret magic at the Citadel. A secret visitor arrives late one night with news of the encroaching attack by the powerful Narbolian empire, who are poised to possess all of the kingdom of Elaria. Will the decisions you make protect the many wondrous people of this rich, fantastic world? Buy it: Bookshop |…

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lgbtqreads · 3 years

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ARC Giveaway: The Other Man by Farhad J. Dadyburjor

The gifts of Pride month continue with this giveaway for two advance reader copies of The Other Man by Farhad J. Dadyburjor, a gay rom-com set in Mumbai (!) and releasing October 12th from Lake Union Publishing! Here’s the story: Heir to his father’s Mumbai business empire, Ved Mehra has money, looks, and status. He is also living as a closeted gay man. Thirty-eight, lonely, still reeling from a…