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The Association of Small Bombs
Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Readers' Favorite Fiction (2016)FINALIST FOR THE NATIONAL BOOK AWARD 2016
When brothers Tushar and Nakul Khurana, two Delhi schoolboys, go to pick up their family’s television set at a repair shop with their friend Mansoor Ahmed one day in 1996, disaster strikes without warning. A bomb—one of the many “small” bombs that go off seemingly unheralded across the world—detonates in the Delhi marketplace, instantly claiming the lives of the Khurana boys to the devastation of their parents.
Mansoor survives, bearing the physical and psychological effects of the bomb. After a brief stint at university in America, Mansoor returns to Delhi, where his life becomes entangled with the mysterious and charismatic Ayub, a fearless young activist whose own allegiances and beliefs are more malleable than Mansoor could imagine. Woven among the story of the Khuranas and the Ahmeds is the tale of Shockie, a Kashmiri bomb maker who has forsaken his own life for the independence of his homeland.
When brothers Tushar and Nakul Khurana, two Delhi schoolboys, go to pick up their family’s television set at a repair shop with their friend Mansoor Ahmed one day in 1996, disaster strikes without warning. A bomb—one of the many “small” bombs that go off seemingly unheralded across the world—detonates in the Delhi marketplace, instantly claiming the lives of the Khurana boys to the devastation of their parents.
Mansoor survives, bearing the physical and psychological effects of the bomb. After a brief stint at university in America, Mansoor returns to Delhi, where his life becomes entangled with the mysterious and charismatic Ayub, a fearless young activist whose own allegiances and beliefs are more malleable than Mansoor could imagine. Woven among the story of the Khuranas and the Ahmeds is the tale of Shockie, a Kashmiri bomb maker who has forsaken his own life for the independence of his homeland.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published March 22, 2016
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29119 people want to read
About the author
Karan Mahajan
6 books334 followersKaran Mahajan is the author of "The Association of Small Bombs," which was a finalist for the National Book Award, winner of the NYPL Young Lions Fiction Award, and was named one of the 10 Best Books of the Year by the New York Times Book Review. His debut novel "Family Planning" was a finalist for the International Dylan Thomas Prize. He has been selected as one of Granta’s Best Young American Novelists, and his writing has appeared in The New Yorker, The New York Times, Vanity Fair, The New York Review of Books, and other venues. He is an associate professor in Literary Arts at Brown University. His third novel, "The Complex," is forthcoming in March 2026.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,663 reviews
July 14, 2016
This was my May 2016 pick for Book of the Month Club. And while I didn't absolutely love this book, I'm glad I chose this one simply because it was a book I might not have picked up otherwise. It tells the story of a "small" bombing (car bomb) that takes place in an Indian market one day and follows the effects it has on multiple people, including victims, their families, and even the terrorists who set off the bomb.
If you're looking for a book with one narrative thread, with action that rises and falls to propel you forward, this is not the book for you. Instead, Mahajan zooms in and out of different POVs across many years to paint interesting pictures of grief, coping methods, and ideological shifts. I feel like if I had tried to rush through this one I might have enjoyed it less because it's certainly a book that prompts reflection and maybe even a bit of research. And the ending was anything but explosive. This book looks more at implosion, how we devolve after tragedy and the ways in which different people respond to life's difficult circumstances.
It's thoughtful, thought-provoking and well written, but not a book I can blanket recommend. More for people who enjoy slow-moving character studies and learning about cultures or seeing things in a different light.
If you're looking for a book with one narrative thread, with action that rises and falls to propel you forward, this is not the book for you. Instead, Mahajan zooms in and out of different POVs across many years to paint interesting pictures of grief, coping methods, and ideological shifts. I feel like if I had tried to rush through this one I might have enjoyed it less because it's certainly a book that prompts reflection and maybe even a bit of research. And the ending was anything but explosive. This book looks more at implosion, how we devolve after tragedy and the ways in which different people respond to life's difficult circumstances.
It's thoughtful, thought-provoking and well written, but not a book I can blanket recommend. More for people who enjoy slow-moving character studies and learning about cultures or seeing things in a different light.
December 27, 2016
I'm somewhere between 3 and 3.5 stars on this one.
"And you know what happens when a bomb goes off? The truth about people comes out."
Dense and well-told, although a bit meandering, Karan Mahajan's The Association of Small Bombs is a thought-provoking look at the causes and effects of terrorism, the human cost even "small" bombs can exact, and how a terrorist can be "grown."
One day in 1996, two young boys, Tushar and Nakul Khurana, are sent by their father to a crowded Delhi market to pick up the family's television set. While they were supposed to drop off their friend Mansoor first, they convince him to join them on the journey to the market. And then disaster strikes—a bomb detonates in the marketplace, killing the brothers instantly, and injuring Mansoor. Bleeding and in pain from his injuries, Mansoor finally makes it home, to the relief of his overprotective parents, but finds himself in the midst of the Khuranas' crushing grief.
The Khuranas try to understand why their sons were killed, who was responsible for the bombing, and what cause they were trying to further. But the course of Indian justice rarely runs smoothly, and while there is suspicion that the perpetrators arrested for the bombing were even responsible, there are continuous roadblocks and delays in the prosecution, which frustrate and sadden the couple. The grief, the anger, the guilt starts to take its toll on their marriage, their health, their future, and not even positive events can help them for long.
Meanwhile, Mansoor, physically and psychologically scarred by the bombing, feels smothered by his overprotective parents as he grows older. He dislikes the stigma of being one of very few Muslims in his part of India, so he chooses to go to the U.S. for college, to pursue a career in computer programming and put the past behind him. But his injuries are compounded by carpal tunnel syndrome, so he has no choice but to return home to India.
Back in India, rudderless, he becomes friends with Ayub, a passionate activist who is determined to change the world. But although he projects a confident exterior, Ayub, too, is rudderless and easily persuaded by forces looking to use him. Through Ayub and Mansoor's eyes, you see how quickly situations and perceptions can change in a post-9/11 world. Their stories are juxtaposed with that of Shockie, a master bomb maker from Pakistan who has sacrificed relationships and a real life for his devotion to his craft.
While terrorist attacks have increased across our world in recent years, The Association of Small Bombs provides the perspectives of those who live with the threat of these attacks on an almost-daily basis. It is fascinating and horrifying to watch the callousness of some who witness these bombings and are more focused on how their livelihood can continue rather than the loss of lives. Watching as an activist is influenced until they become motivated to kill is equally disturbing.
I thought this was a well-written and powerful book. Mahajan does a good job shifting narrative perspectives between the affected, the aggrieved, and the perpetrators. I don't think I can say, however, that I particularly liked the book; despite the raw emotions it examined, it felt strangely cold to me. But in the end, this is an important piece of fiction, one that makes you think, especially when you hear news of bombings in other countries.
See all of my reviews at http://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blo....
"And you know what happens when a bomb goes off? The truth about people comes out."
Dense and well-told, although a bit meandering, Karan Mahajan's The Association of Small Bombs is a thought-provoking look at the causes and effects of terrorism, the human cost even "small" bombs can exact, and how a terrorist can be "grown."
One day in 1996, two young boys, Tushar and Nakul Khurana, are sent by their father to a crowded Delhi market to pick up the family's television set. While they were supposed to drop off their friend Mansoor first, they convince him to join them on the journey to the market. And then disaster strikes—a bomb detonates in the marketplace, killing the brothers instantly, and injuring Mansoor. Bleeding and in pain from his injuries, Mansoor finally makes it home, to the relief of his overprotective parents, but finds himself in the midst of the Khuranas' crushing grief.
The Khuranas try to understand why their sons were killed, who was responsible for the bombing, and what cause they were trying to further. But the course of Indian justice rarely runs smoothly, and while there is suspicion that the perpetrators arrested for the bombing were even responsible, there are continuous roadblocks and delays in the prosecution, which frustrate and sadden the couple. The grief, the anger, the guilt starts to take its toll on their marriage, their health, their future, and not even positive events can help them for long.
Meanwhile, Mansoor, physically and psychologically scarred by the bombing, feels smothered by his overprotective parents as he grows older. He dislikes the stigma of being one of very few Muslims in his part of India, so he chooses to go to the U.S. for college, to pursue a career in computer programming and put the past behind him. But his injuries are compounded by carpal tunnel syndrome, so he has no choice but to return home to India.
Back in India, rudderless, he becomes friends with Ayub, a passionate activist who is determined to change the world. But although he projects a confident exterior, Ayub, too, is rudderless and easily persuaded by forces looking to use him. Through Ayub and Mansoor's eyes, you see how quickly situations and perceptions can change in a post-9/11 world. Their stories are juxtaposed with that of Shockie, a master bomb maker from Pakistan who has sacrificed relationships and a real life for his devotion to his craft.
While terrorist attacks have increased across our world in recent years, The Association of Small Bombs provides the perspectives of those who live with the threat of these attacks on an almost-daily basis. It is fascinating and horrifying to watch the callousness of some who witness these bombings and are more focused on how their livelihood can continue rather than the loss of lives. Watching as an activist is influenced until they become motivated to kill is equally disturbing.
I thought this was a well-written and powerful book. Mahajan does a good job shifting narrative perspectives between the affected, the aggrieved, and the perpetrators. I don't think I can say, however, that I particularly liked the book; despite the raw emotions it examined, it felt strangely cold to me. But in the end, this is an important piece of fiction, one that makes you think, especially when you hear news of bombings in other countries.
See all of my reviews at http://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blo....
February 16, 2017
“The bomb was a child, a tantrum directed against all things.”
When I started this novel, I was captivated, absorbed, thoroughly in awe of the author’s writing and the subject matter he was tackling. How often do we try to put ourselves in the shoes of the terrorists? We are often so appalled by the acts of terrorism happening around the globe we don’t delve deeply into the minds of the terrorists? What purpose are they working toward? What outcome do they expect? What events led up to their becoming terrorists? In this novel, the terrorists are not radicalized islamists, but political activists. They have tried peaceful demonstrations without success.
The story sets out in Dehli with the Kurana boys (both Hindu) and their Muslim friend Mansoor at the market when a small bomb goes off. The Kurana boys are dead, however Mansoor survives with an injury only to his arm. He walks off, not with much direction or purpose, but ends up at home. His life is forever impacted by the blast. It is as if by being associated with that bomb, he is never able to be free of it. The bomb has determined his fate.
The book also follows the terrorists. Shockie had become a terrorist out of frustration for the way Muslims were treated in Kashmir, his home province. He feels he is fighting for independence for a land he is in exile from. The novel poignantly describes his conflicting feelings about setting off bombs. When he calls his mother beforehand, he hopes to be summoned home to attend to her health. There is a sense of desperation, a knowledge that not much will be accomplished by the blast, an anger that there is not more money to make a bigger impact. “They fucking want freedom but this fucking cheapness with never go away.” Interestingly, he finds closeness with Malik, who is working for the same cause, however believes more in the Ghandian philosophy, and is very much laughed at by the others in their group for his ideas. Malik tells Shockie, ” What do you think these attacks are going to achieve? Today when you were talking about the blast not being big enough, I was thinking: It doesn’t matter. It’s all wrong. Blasts are a way of hiding.”
The Kuranas lost two sons to the blast. They deal with the loss in different ways and in various stages. There is pregnancy and birth of a daughter, there is an arranged meeting with one of the accused terrorists (Malik), there is an affair, there is the creation of a group for victims and families of victims of small bombs. Finally, there is the realization that even though they have been so active in the world of supporting terrorist victims, they are helpless in trying to get a dear innocent friend out of jail, as this book comes full circle.
As a young adult, Mansoor becomes active in an NGO working for communal harmony. As part of their mission, this group advocates for speedier trials for accused terrorists and feels that many of those jailed were falsely accused. Seemingly, the pressure to arrest people in the aftermath of a bomb, leads to many false arrests with torture and inconceivable years in prison prior to trial. He becomes good friends with Ayub, a Muslim who is very much influenced by Ghandi. However, after a disappointing break-up and disappointing peaceful demonstrations, he begins to think more like a terrorist. Is this all it takes? A theme of excess sexual frustration energizing anger in an ineffective manner is a steady current throughout this book. After setting off a bomb at another busy market place, Ayub literally becomes the bomb. The bomb here and throughout this book, is a metaphor for a useless and reckless way of dealing with problems.
This book is fatalistic. It takes on an enormous task looking at terrorists, victims, families of victims, even the falsely imprisoned in the bomb’s aftermath. It is dense and extremely well written. The topic is tough, especially since the moral in this book is that these bombs are an exercise in futility – no one will win, everyone has much to lose. I needed to take breaks from this book; I just didn’t want to think about the book for a while. I do think it’s an important book, though. It raises questions. It is unique.
For discussion questions, please see http://www.book-chatter.com/?p=956.
When I started this novel, I was captivated, absorbed, thoroughly in awe of the author’s writing and the subject matter he was tackling. How often do we try to put ourselves in the shoes of the terrorists? We are often so appalled by the acts of terrorism happening around the globe we don’t delve deeply into the minds of the terrorists? What purpose are they working toward? What outcome do they expect? What events led up to their becoming terrorists? In this novel, the terrorists are not radicalized islamists, but political activists. They have tried peaceful demonstrations without success.
The story sets out in Dehli with the Kurana boys (both Hindu) and their Muslim friend Mansoor at the market when a small bomb goes off. The Kurana boys are dead, however Mansoor survives with an injury only to his arm. He walks off, not with much direction or purpose, but ends up at home. His life is forever impacted by the blast. It is as if by being associated with that bomb, he is never able to be free of it. The bomb has determined his fate.
The book also follows the terrorists. Shockie had become a terrorist out of frustration for the way Muslims were treated in Kashmir, his home province. He feels he is fighting for independence for a land he is in exile from. The novel poignantly describes his conflicting feelings about setting off bombs. When he calls his mother beforehand, he hopes to be summoned home to attend to her health. There is a sense of desperation, a knowledge that not much will be accomplished by the blast, an anger that there is not more money to make a bigger impact. “They fucking want freedom but this fucking cheapness with never go away.” Interestingly, he finds closeness with Malik, who is working for the same cause, however believes more in the Ghandian philosophy, and is very much laughed at by the others in their group for his ideas. Malik tells Shockie, ” What do you think these attacks are going to achieve? Today when you were talking about the blast not being big enough, I was thinking: It doesn’t matter. It’s all wrong. Blasts are a way of hiding.”
The Kuranas lost two sons to the blast. They deal with the loss in different ways and in various stages. There is pregnancy and birth of a daughter, there is an arranged meeting with one of the accused terrorists (Malik), there is an affair, there is the creation of a group for victims and families of victims of small bombs. Finally, there is the realization that even though they have been so active in the world of supporting terrorist victims, they are helpless in trying to get a dear innocent friend out of jail, as this book comes full circle.
As a young adult, Mansoor becomes active in an NGO working for communal harmony. As part of their mission, this group advocates for speedier trials for accused terrorists and feels that many of those jailed were falsely accused. Seemingly, the pressure to arrest people in the aftermath of a bomb, leads to many false arrests with torture and inconceivable years in prison prior to trial. He becomes good friends with Ayub, a Muslim who is very much influenced by Ghandi. However, after a disappointing break-up and disappointing peaceful demonstrations, he begins to think more like a terrorist. Is this all it takes? A theme of excess sexual frustration energizing anger in an ineffective manner is a steady current throughout this book. After setting off a bomb at another busy market place, Ayub literally becomes the bomb. The bomb here and throughout this book, is a metaphor for a useless and reckless way of dealing with problems.
This book is fatalistic. It takes on an enormous task looking at terrorists, victims, families of victims, even the falsely imprisoned in the bomb’s aftermath. It is dense and extremely well written. The topic is tough, especially since the moral in this book is that these bombs are an exercise in futility – no one will win, everyone has much to lose. I needed to take breaks from this book; I just didn’t want to think about the book for a while. I do think it’s an important book, though. It raises questions. It is unique.
For discussion questions, please see http://www.book-chatter.com/?p=956.
February 10, 2017
"Sometimes, the smallest things take up the most room in your heart."
– A A Milne
It is, in many ways, both a comforting and disturbing thought that events of negligible weight, often elevate to gargantuan heights, lighting and dimming our lives from the perennial chandeliers of memory and reflection. Try as hard as we may, the rewards of life’s milestones condense invariably, and collect into a pool of small droplets, each recompensing the minutiae of living with something meaningful, if only tearfully, stabbing.
In the busy Lajpat Nagar market of Delhi, a small bomb goes off. Two, out of three friends, become fume in no time. The survivor, Mansoor, somehow, finds his way home amid a blindness of smoke and few injured bodies. But home is no longer the same haven of comfort. Both set of parents, to the children lost and alive, throw a blanket of rigorous monotony around themselves to escape the biting winter of loss and trauma but the frost continues to bite them, unpredictably, furiously, consistently. Life rolls on and Mansoor’s fate brings him to America many years later, with the prospect of promising career in computers. But the unexpected advent of the Repetitive Strain Injury (RSI) cuts open his wound, inflicted by the small bomb years ago, forging him, yet again, with the sticky truth of misplaced principles. He returns home, only to meet an ebullient activist, and falls afresh into the world he was fleeing.
Mahajan’s story is not just an intimate tale about the current times of terrorism and fanaticism, and ironically of carelessness and unaccountability, but also a sprawling tale of humanity, struggling to rear its head amid these torrents of visceral components. When he declares the bomb-maker in Kashmir, to be controlled by a man who teaches in a school for girls, he unveils the duplicities of survival and the innate comfort these dual skins provide us. When over futile morning walks and cold cups of tea, he sketches the life of the couple who has lost their young sons, he chains a mute cry to our chests that undulates with a helplessness often experienced first-hand. When a lifetime of effort is held hostage by one fateful, fleeting evening whose demons sabotage the long fort of victory, we gasp in horror at the enormity of inconsequential instances that keep chasing us and ravaging our dreams.
The story remained with me not just because of its audacious black but also its tender white.
– A A Milne
It is, in many ways, both a comforting and disturbing thought that events of negligible weight, often elevate to gargantuan heights, lighting and dimming our lives from the perennial chandeliers of memory and reflection. Try as hard as we may, the rewards of life’s milestones condense invariably, and collect into a pool of small droplets, each recompensing the minutiae of living with something meaningful, if only tearfully, stabbing.
In the busy Lajpat Nagar market of Delhi, a small bomb goes off. Two, out of three friends, become fume in no time. The survivor, Mansoor, somehow, finds his way home amid a blindness of smoke and few injured bodies. But home is no longer the same haven of comfort. Both set of parents, to the children lost and alive, throw a blanket of rigorous monotony around themselves to escape the biting winter of loss and trauma but the frost continues to bite them, unpredictably, furiously, consistently. Life rolls on and Mansoor’s fate brings him to America many years later, with the prospect of promising career in computers. But the unexpected advent of the Repetitive Strain Injury (RSI) cuts open his wound, inflicted by the small bomb years ago, forging him, yet again, with the sticky truth of misplaced principles. He returns home, only to meet an ebullient activist, and falls afresh into the world he was fleeing.
Mahajan’s story is not just an intimate tale about the current times of terrorism and fanaticism, and ironically of carelessness and unaccountability, but also a sprawling tale of humanity, struggling to rear its head amid these torrents of visceral components. When he declares the bomb-maker in Kashmir, to be controlled by a man who teaches in a school for girls, he unveils the duplicities of survival and the innate comfort these dual skins provide us. When over futile morning walks and cold cups of tea, he sketches the life of the couple who has lost their young sons, he chains a mute cry to our chests that undulates with a helplessness often experienced first-hand. When a lifetime of effort is held hostage by one fateful, fleeting evening whose demons sabotage the long fort of victory, we gasp in horror at the enormity of inconsequential instances that keep chasing us and ravaging our dreams.
The story remained with me not just because of its audacious black but also its tender white.
You lift a spoon from a claw of thick stew and you weep. Under the shower… you are sheathed in the same soap that you remember scrubbing off the shoulders of your boys. No action is safe from meaning. The boys had stored between them, all the world’s possibilities.The narrative comes alive with its wit and humor too, just like how despite the ills of life, we give laughter a dignified chance, every now and then. Mahajan does a wonderful job in simply presenting everyone’s perspective, including the guy who makes blast and the one who survives them. That the line of rationality might be a small conjecture is a different matter, altogether.
April 17, 2016
Not perfect but brilliant. The scenes of grief are devastating and the portrait of the making of a terrorist fascinating. Interestingly, the intense lyrical beauty of the first half is mostly drained when depicting the hardening of the soul of a human being, a turn away from the beauty.
In the novel, the bomb becomes a metaphor for many things- as well as a thing in its own right, a devastation. The father of the victim feels himself becoming a bomb, feels himself torn apart in his grief. And the voice of evil starts off seductively, tempting the alienated and idealistic but also embittered terrorist until the idealism is blotted out and only the evil remains.
Or mostly. This book is a brave effort at seeing inside the mind and heart of a terrorist, to see the person beneath the persona. I wasn't able to quite make the imaginative leap myself but I think it's always a good thing to look for the humanity even in the worst of us. It takes both sides of the bomb-the victims and the victimizers-and looks closely at where they come together.
I won't say anymore for fear of spoilers but the book is powerfully and beautifully written, I underlined and made notes copiously to try to capture and hold on to its lyricism and insights. I strongly recommend this book. It is a quick but fascinating read.
In the novel, the bomb becomes a metaphor for many things- as well as a thing in its own right, a devastation. The father of the victim feels himself becoming a bomb, feels himself torn apart in his grief. And the voice of evil starts off seductively, tempting the alienated and idealistic but also embittered terrorist until the idealism is blotted out and only the evil remains.
Or mostly. This book is a brave effort at seeing inside the mind and heart of a terrorist, to see the person beneath the persona. I wasn't able to quite make the imaginative leap myself but I think it's always a good thing to look for the humanity even in the worst of us. It takes both sides of the bomb-the victims and the victimizers-and looks closely at where they come together.
I won't say anymore for fear of spoilers but the book is powerfully and beautifully written, I underlined and made notes copiously to try to capture and hold on to its lyricism and insights. I strongly recommend this book. It is a quick but fascinating read.
December 30, 2016
The Association of Small Bombs by Karan Mahajan is a 2016 Viking Books publication.
I’m on a kick this week, reading books that have been nominated for awards, mainly to branch out some and try new genres, to become better read, and expand my knowledge a little, but, also, I like to figure out why certain books catch the attention of critics, and to see if those books resonate with readers in the same way.
So far, it’s been a hit or miss with me. Only a few of these books have lived up to the hype. The Association of Small Bombs was a National Book award nominee and was also nominated for a Goodreads Choice Award.
So, how did it stack up?
The book is an interesting examination of how terrorism affects the victims and by proxy those closely associated with them or the crime.
When a small bomb explodes in a marketplace in India, two boys are killed, and their friend is injured. The aftermath dissects the various ways the survivors cope. The paths taken by the families involved couldn’t be more different.
The Khurana’s endure a long period of limbo as they wait for answers, then go through the lengthy trial phase once the terrorists are arrested.
Mansoor, the child who survived the bombing, endures physical and psychological damage, which further isolates him, leaving him vulnerable and easily influenced, leading him down a dark and dangerous road.
The people of America realize they are not immune to terrorist attacks, and we know somewhere in the back of our minds that we will probably face more of them as time goes on. However, we couldn’t possibly understand what it is like to live with these ‘small’ bombings, which occur at an alarming frequency, sometimes daily, in many parts of the world.
This book examines that reality, as well as delving into the emotional quagmire that leaves families devastated and broken.
The author added in the chilling perspectives of the terrorists, their mindset, and ideology, which was probably a realistic, but toned down, look at how those seeds are planted and how easily people get sucked into these groups and their causes.
However, the author walked a very fine line by taking us down that road, and I must confess, I bristled a bit at the ‘humanizing’ of terrorists, but giving the reader insight into their mindset and feelings goes a long way in explaining how self-radicalization can occur, which is something we hear about more and more often.
There are many fine points the author bravely, but delicately addresses, and somehow manages to step around quite a few landmines without detonating them.
Overall, this book gave me a lot to think about, often making me feel uncomfortable, but it is mostly sad and tragic, proving there is no such thing as a ‘small’ bomb.
3.5 stars
I’m on a kick this week, reading books that have been nominated for awards, mainly to branch out some and try new genres, to become better read, and expand my knowledge a little, but, also, I like to figure out why certain books catch the attention of critics, and to see if those books resonate with readers in the same way.
So far, it’s been a hit or miss with me. Only a few of these books have lived up to the hype. The Association of Small Bombs was a National Book award nominee and was also nominated for a Goodreads Choice Award.
So, how did it stack up?
The book is an interesting examination of how terrorism affects the victims and by proxy those closely associated with them or the crime.
When a small bomb explodes in a marketplace in India, two boys are killed, and their friend is injured. The aftermath dissects the various ways the survivors cope. The paths taken by the families involved couldn’t be more different.
The Khurana’s endure a long period of limbo as they wait for answers, then go through the lengthy trial phase once the terrorists are arrested.
Mansoor, the child who survived the bombing, endures physical and psychological damage, which further isolates him, leaving him vulnerable and easily influenced, leading him down a dark and dangerous road.
The people of America realize they are not immune to terrorist attacks, and we know somewhere in the back of our minds that we will probably face more of them as time goes on. However, we couldn’t possibly understand what it is like to live with these ‘small’ bombings, which occur at an alarming frequency, sometimes daily, in many parts of the world.
This book examines that reality, as well as delving into the emotional quagmire that leaves families devastated and broken.
The author added in the chilling perspectives of the terrorists, their mindset, and ideology, which was probably a realistic, but toned down, look at how those seeds are planted and how easily people get sucked into these groups and their causes.
However, the author walked a very fine line by taking us down that road, and I must confess, I bristled a bit at the ‘humanizing’ of terrorists, but giving the reader insight into their mindset and feelings goes a long way in explaining how self-radicalization can occur, which is something we hear about more and more often.
There are many fine points the author bravely, but delicately addresses, and somehow manages to step around quite a few landmines without detonating them.
Overall, this book gave me a lot to think about, often making me feel uncomfortable, but it is mostly sad and tragic, proving there is no such thing as a ‘small’ bomb.
3.5 stars
April 24, 2017
3 stars
I think I'm overdosing on war and terrorism, which are not the best subjects to be stuck on in these very volatile days of late. It's not necessarily Karan Mahajan's fault that his thought-provoking novel The Association of Small Bombs left me cold and wanting something else to read, but I can't bring myself to give this any more than 3 stars. It did, after all, make its way onto a few "Best of 2016" lists, and was even shortlisted for the National Book Award. It's got enough substance to spark discussion in classrooms and book clubs alike (although good luck finding a book club daring enough to sink its teeth in this one). Overall, though, something about this just didn't sit well with me.
The idea seemed foolproof: exploring a terrorist action from every angle, from the viewpoints of those directly and indirectly affected by the carnage, and from those terrorists responsible for the bombing. The "small bombs" in question: a 1996 car bomb positioned at the periphery of Lajpat Nagar, a very busy shopping area in Delhi, India. Those directly affected: 11 and 13 year-old brothers Tushar and Nakul Khurana (killed in the bomb blast) and their friend, 12 year-old Mansour Ahmed (maimed by shrapnel). Those indirectly affected: the Khurana brothers' parents Vikas (a documentary filmmaker) and Deepa; and Mansour's parents, upper middle classers Sharif and Afsheen. The way these two families assimilate and act upon their grief is, to me, the best element of the book. Similarly compelling is tracking young Mansour in the years after the bombing, as he comes to California to attend university in Santa Clara, and contends with schoolwork, spirituality, and a particularly pernicious case of post-traumatic carpal tunnel.
The riskiest part of the book (and the part that left me confused and kind of angry) is the integral terrorist-centric viewpoint (which I can't really discuss for fear of spoiling everything.) I will say though that it did remind me a little bit of Andre Dubus III''s 9/11 novel The Garden of Last Days, but with gobs of India-isms that may've made made more sense to me if I was from India, or Muslim, or both. I think that Majahan's missteps (if any) can be pinpointed to this section (though, again, it might not be his fault; my pea brain just can't rationalize the efficacy of a terroristic act by body count alone.)
I do think, though, that this is one book that you cannot trust the cumulative star rating, because everyone's bound to have a divergent opinion. If the subject matter piques your interest, then by all means prepare for an interesting read (if not an enjoyable one.)
I think I'm overdosing on war and terrorism, which are not the best subjects to be stuck on in these very volatile days of late. It's not necessarily Karan Mahajan's fault that his thought-provoking novel The Association of Small Bombs left me cold and wanting something else to read, but I can't bring myself to give this any more than 3 stars. It did, after all, make its way onto a few "Best of 2016" lists, and was even shortlisted for the National Book Award. It's got enough substance to spark discussion in classrooms and book clubs alike (although good luck finding a book club daring enough to sink its teeth in this one). Overall, though, something about this just didn't sit well with me.
The idea seemed foolproof: exploring a terrorist action from every angle, from the viewpoints of those directly and indirectly affected by the carnage, and from those terrorists responsible for the bombing. The "small bombs" in question: a 1996 car bomb positioned at the periphery of Lajpat Nagar, a very busy shopping area in Delhi, India. Those directly affected: 11 and 13 year-old brothers Tushar and Nakul Khurana (killed in the bomb blast) and their friend, 12 year-old Mansour Ahmed (maimed by shrapnel). Those indirectly affected: the Khurana brothers' parents Vikas (a documentary filmmaker) and Deepa; and Mansour's parents, upper middle classers Sharif and Afsheen. The way these two families assimilate and act upon their grief is, to me, the best element of the book. Similarly compelling is tracking young Mansour in the years after the bombing, as he comes to California to attend university in Santa Clara, and contends with schoolwork, spirituality, and a particularly pernicious case of post-traumatic carpal tunnel.
The riskiest part of the book (and the part that left me confused and kind of angry) is the integral terrorist-centric viewpoint (which I can't really discuss for fear of spoiling everything.) I will say though that it did remind me a little bit of Andre Dubus III''s 9/11 novel The Garden of Last Days, but with gobs of India-isms that may've made made more sense to me if I was from India, or Muslim, or both. I think that Majahan's missteps (if any) can be pinpointed to this section (though, again, it might not be his fault; my pea brain just can't rationalize the efficacy of a terroristic act by body count alone.)
I do think, though, that this is one book that you cannot trust the cumulative star rating, because everyone's bound to have a divergent opinion. If the subject matter piques your interest, then by all means prepare for an interesting read (if not an enjoyable one.)
August 24, 2016
“And you know what happens when a bomb goes off?” asks one of the bomb-makers at one significant point in this book. “The truth about people comes out.”
More than an explanation of why young activists are radicalized and more than a book about how the seeds of terrorism are sewn, The Association of Small Bombs focuses on the “truth about people.” In doing so, it claims its own niche.
In the opening pages, the Khuranas, a Hindu couple, lose their two young sons during a random small bomb blast in an open-air Indian market. The sons are accompanied by their Muslim neighbor, Mansoor, who survives, but is forever transformed. Following the first chapter – Chapter Zero – this novel explores the response to terror – the victims, the victims’ families, the bomb-makers.
It is this deep and penetrating analysis of the participants’ inner lives that sets this book apart. No one is radicalized or demonized. No one is a world-class hero. At times, heroes and purported villains merge – or associate – and become twinned. It is the author’s gift that we, the readers, care for each one of his created characters, even the ones that would not ordinarily earn our sympathy.
If you are seeking a book that explores the societal or religious or class caste reasons for terrorism, this is not your book. All those factors are alluded to but the key theme is how even the detonation of a small bomb can create shockwaves that transform lives in unexpected ways. “This is what it felt like to be a bomb,” the author writes. “You were coiled up, majestic with blackness, unaware that the universe outside you existed, and then a wire snapped and ripped open your eyelids all the way around and you had a vision of the world that was 360 degrees, and everything in your purview was doomed by seeing.” This same description could be used to define the key characters. By aligning the bomb with those affected by it, Karan Mahajan, a New Delhi-born writer, creates a thoughtful and provoking book for our times.
More than an explanation of why young activists are radicalized and more than a book about how the seeds of terrorism are sewn, The Association of Small Bombs focuses on the “truth about people.” In doing so, it claims its own niche.
In the opening pages, the Khuranas, a Hindu couple, lose their two young sons during a random small bomb blast in an open-air Indian market. The sons are accompanied by their Muslim neighbor, Mansoor, who survives, but is forever transformed. Following the first chapter – Chapter Zero – this novel explores the response to terror – the victims, the victims’ families, the bomb-makers.
It is this deep and penetrating analysis of the participants’ inner lives that sets this book apart. No one is radicalized or demonized. No one is a world-class hero. At times, heroes and purported villains merge – or associate – and become twinned. It is the author’s gift that we, the readers, care for each one of his created characters, even the ones that would not ordinarily earn our sympathy.
If you are seeking a book that explores the societal or religious or class caste reasons for terrorism, this is not your book. All those factors are alluded to but the key theme is how even the detonation of a small bomb can create shockwaves that transform lives in unexpected ways. “This is what it felt like to be a bomb,” the author writes. “You were coiled up, majestic with blackness, unaware that the universe outside you existed, and then a wire snapped and ripped open your eyelids all the way around and you had a vision of the world that was 360 degrees, and everything in your purview was doomed by seeing.” This same description could be used to define the key characters. By aligning the bomb with those affected by it, Karan Mahajan, a New Delhi-born writer, creates a thoughtful and provoking book for our times.
March 16, 2019
This book is a quick read about difficult subject matter. While the message is important, I was kind of lukewarm on the delivery and I never really got into the book. At times it was interesting, but there were a lot of other times I found my attention wandering.
Any story about religion and terrorism has the potential to be riveting. What I think is the most interesting about this one is that it takes place primarily in India and addresses the Hindi/Muslim conflict. I am more familiar with stories and events that tend to be more Christian vs Muslim or at least Muslims in America. It is always fascinating to see other viewpoints.
Also, I think two other important elements addressed in this book are the lives of victims after bombings as well as thoughts from Muslims regarding Muslim terrorism. While a fictional story, I expect that a lot of what is included reflects reality.
If you have an interest in stories about religious conflict, recent terrorist activities, and how average citizens respond to it all, this is worth checking out. But, again, if you have the same experience I did, you may enjoy what you learn, but the journey will be rough.
Any story about religion and terrorism has the potential to be riveting. What I think is the most interesting about this one is that it takes place primarily in India and addresses the Hindi/Muslim conflict. I am more familiar with stories and events that tend to be more Christian vs Muslim or at least Muslims in America. It is always fascinating to see other viewpoints.
Also, I think two other important elements addressed in this book are the lives of victims after bombings as well as thoughts from Muslims regarding Muslim terrorism. While a fictional story, I expect that a lot of what is included reflects reality.
If you have an interest in stories about religious conflict, recent terrorist activities, and how average citizens respond to it all, this is worth checking out. But, again, if you have the same experience I did, you may enjoy what you learn, but the journey will be rough.
December 18, 2017
I struggled a little with this one - perhaps I just chose a bad time to read it, but for me this story of minor acts of terrorism in Delhi and their repercussions for their victims never quite coalesced and I never felt fully engaged with the characters. I don't want to be too harsh on it, but I don't have much to say about it either.
I should have mentioned that I read it because it is being discussed this month in the 21st Century Literature group.
I should have mentioned that I read it because it is being discussed this month in the 21st Century Literature group.
November 7, 2016
Dull is the word I would use to describe this read.
The premise is certainly interesting - two young brothers die in a bomb blast in Delhi, while a third friend accompanying them survives with minor injury.
The book then traces the after effects of this explosion on the family of the boys killed, on the surviving friend and his family, and on the bomb planters themselves.
However, the author flips between these multiple view points so often, I could neither focus on the story as a whole, nor develop empathy for any character in particular.
For me, a 300+ page book cannot be a satisfying read if it only has a few compelling moments, while the rest of it makes me wish for stronger editing.
The end shows how the bomb never really leaves the characters and how it shapes their lives until the very end, but the impressive writing at the end fails to redeem this product as a whole.
The premise is certainly interesting - two young brothers die in a bomb blast in Delhi, while a third friend accompanying them survives with minor injury.
The book then traces the after effects of this explosion on the family of the boys killed, on the surviving friend and his family, and on the bomb planters themselves.
However, the author flips between these multiple view points so often, I could neither focus on the story as a whole, nor develop empathy for any character in particular.
For me, a 300+ page book cannot be a satisfying read if it only has a few compelling moments, while the rest of it makes me wish for stronger editing.
The end shows how the bomb never really leaves the characters and how it shapes their lives until the very end, but the impressive writing at the end fails to redeem this product as a whole.
September 9, 2018
Required reading for all Americans.
Who are the true victims of terrorism?
Who are the true victims of terrorism?
August 28, 2017
Mercado de Lajpat Nagar - Deli - Índia
Pode uma bomba que explode num atentado terrorista ser considerada “pequena”, “média” ou “grande” conforme o número de mortos e feridos que causa?
Em Maio de 1996 uma bomba construída por Shockie, com o apoio de Meraj, é colocada sob o capô de um carro Maruti 800 branco, estrategicamente estacionado e que rebenta no mercado Lajpat Nagar em Deli (Índia),
Três jovens amigos passeiam no mercado de Lajpat Nagar; dois irmãos, Tushar e Nakul, de onze e treze anos, morrem, o amigo Mansoor, sobrevive com ferimentos ligeiros. Mansoor cresce, vai gradualmente transformando-se num miúdo introvertido, o trauma, ora físico ora psicológico, vai-lhe alterando o comportamento, condicionando definitivamente as suas opções de vida estudantil e profissional. Mais tarde, Mansoor entra num dilema existencial, pouco a pouco, começa o seu despertar para as causas políticas e religiosas, culminando com a amizade com activistas políticos, a sua radicalização islâmica, decorrente também de um fracasso romântico.
Os dois jovens terroristas que colocam a bomba – Shockie e Meraj - de ”A Associação das Pequenas Bombas” são estranhamente apáticos, subjugados por pessoas e por líderes obscuros, dispostos a cometer assassinatos para promover uma causa (ou várias), sem que se vislumbre nitidamente os seus contornos políticos ou sociais – neste caso, o separatismo de Caxemira.
Depois, surge Malik, um jovem sensível e sonhador, que já sofreu a tortura física e psicológica, um ideólogo que escreve e distribui panfletos revolucionários, que antevê de uma forma lúcida, a dificuldade de um terrorista operar num país dominado pela violência e pela pobreza; e Ayub, um jovem activista político.
A narrativa avança e retrocede no tempo, examinando minuciosamente o horrível sofrimento dos pais de Tushar e Nakul - Vikas e Deepa Khurana – indianos da classe média liberal -, as devastadoras implicações para uma vida estilhaçada, num sofrimento caótico, afectando ambos os progenitores – cada um faz o luto de uma forma diferente -; reflecte igualmente sobre o trauma físico e psicológico do menino sobrevivente, Mansoor, memórias e sensações que perpassam a sua vida desde a adolescência até à idade adulta; e por fim, aborda a vida de jovens terroristas e apoiantes das causas separatista, de teor ideológico e religioso, uns que planeiam e executam os ataques, outros que desenvolvem actividade políticas contestatárias, nomeadamente, o protesto pela prisão indiscriminada de inocentes, sem qualquer ligação directa ao ataque terrorista, pela brutalidade e tortura policial na prisão, acusados arbitrariamente e sem provas concretas sobre as suas actividades.
Adorei a estrutura utilizada por Karan Mahajan (n. 1984) em de ”A Associação das Pequenas Bombas” subdividindo o romance em sete partes: Explosão (Maio 1996), Vítimas (Maio 1996), Terroristas (Maio 1996), A Reação do Sr. e da Srª Khurana ao Terror (1996 – 1997), A Reação de Mansoor Ahmed ao Terror (Maio de 1996 – Março de 2003), A Reação de Ayub Azmi ao Terror (Março de 2003 – Outubro 2003) e a A Associação das Pequenas Bombas (Outubro de 2003 - ).
O romance ”A Associação das Pequenas Bombas” é surpreendentemente bom, notável na escrita e no método como explora a desintegração de vítimas inocentes, quer para os familiares quer para os sobreviventes, que são afectados física e psicologicamente para a vida, para uma vida que tem que continuar a ser vivida; com Karan Mahajan a analisar de uma forma invulgar as vicissitudes e as fragilidades de duas famílias da classe média indiana – os Khuranas e os Ahmeds – uma hindu e outra muçulmana –; ampliando o impacto do romance para uma actualidade cada vez mais premente - a disseminação e proliferação de ataques terroristas, quase diários – a que nenhum país está imune, nenhuma região está salvaguardada para acontecimentos e eventos trágicos, nenhuma pessoa está ou é inatingível.
A bomba que explodiu em Maio de 1996 no mercado de Lajpat Nagar em Deli (Índia) matou “apenas” treze pessoas e feriu trinta – uma “pequena” bomba na visão dos perpetradores – absolutamente hediondo e cruel.
November 4, 2016
This wasn't an easy book to read given the global terrorism issues of today but at the same time I found that the language of the author was so easy to read. The India of 1996 and the years following the bomb blast that kicks off this extraordinary novel are so well described. The culture of superiority in both wealth and religion and the deep rooted shame that both bring about in people is brilliantly depicted here and my favourite line was:
"The roots of shame run deep".
I will look for more to read by this author.
5 big stars!
"The roots of shame run deep".
I will look for more to read by this author.
5 big stars!
October 14, 2016
In the wake of a horrific act of terrorism, it’s all too easy to write off those responsible as inhuman monsters. In The Association of Small Bombs, Karan Mahajan challenges us to dig deeper and see that they are human, to understand the chain of events that might transform someone into a perpetrator of an unspeakable crime, and to consider all who are affected by these tragedies.
We begin with a bombing of a Delhi marketplace in 1996. Two young boys, Tushar and Nakul, are among the dead, but their friend Mansoor miraculously survives.
When those of us in the Western world hear about incidents like this in countries like India—small acts of terrorism that occur with great frequency—it’s not uncommon for us to react with apathy. We hear about it, we think about how terrible it is, and we move on with our day.
This, Mahajan suggests, is part of the unique tragedy of these “small” bombs: they’re common, almost meaningless and forgettable—unlike large-scale tragedies like 9/11. But Mahajan isn’t about to let us off the hook. No, this time we’ll become intimately familiar with the victims, the survivors, the families, and the terrorists.
Following the 1996 bombing, we learn how Mansoor’s life, as well as the lives of Tushar and Nakul’s parents, are forever changed. We meet Shockie, the man responsible for the bombing and Ayub, a young activist whose increasing desperation is leading him down an ominous path. Brilliantly, Mahajan gives us the opportunity to understand these characters without descending into sentimentality or forced sympathy, exploring pertinent dichotomies such as violence vs. non-violence, and Eastern vs. Western ideologies.
It’s an uncomfortable book. It’s a relevant book. It’s an important book. I’m sure I’ll be thinking about it for quite some time.
We begin with a bombing of a Delhi marketplace in 1996. Two young boys, Tushar and Nakul, are among the dead, but their friend Mansoor miraculously survives.
When those of us in the Western world hear about incidents like this in countries like India—small acts of terrorism that occur with great frequency—it’s not uncommon for us to react with apathy. We hear about it, we think about how terrible it is, and we move on with our day.
This, Mahajan suggests, is part of the unique tragedy of these “small” bombs: they’re common, almost meaningless and forgettable—unlike large-scale tragedies like 9/11. But Mahajan isn’t about to let us off the hook. No, this time we’ll become intimately familiar with the victims, the survivors, the families, and the terrorists.
Following the 1996 bombing, we learn how Mansoor’s life, as well as the lives of Tushar and Nakul’s parents, are forever changed. We meet Shockie, the man responsible for the bombing and Ayub, a young activist whose increasing desperation is leading him down an ominous path. Brilliantly, Mahajan gives us the opportunity to understand these characters without descending into sentimentality or forced sympathy, exploring pertinent dichotomies such as violence vs. non-violence, and Eastern vs. Western ideologies.
It’s an uncomfortable book. It’s a relevant book. It’s an important book. I’m sure I’ll be thinking about it for quite some time.
November 10, 2018
I appreciated what this author attempted to do (and largely did successfully) with this novel, but unfortunately it didn't make for a fun reading experience. The book interweaves the stories of a victims of terrorism with perpetrators of terrorism without passing any moral judgements. We aren't even introduced the the character I would consider to be the main character, Ayub, until well into the story. He goes from being an activist to something more (a terrorist? a pawn of terrorists? ), but the author never permits the reader to lose empathy. Normally, I really like when author's do this and do it well, blurring the lines between good and evil, moral and immoral. The problem for me, with this book, was that it felt the the author narrated the story much more than revealed it. No matter how masterfully a writer does this, it just creates distance between the reader and the characters, and I never really felt their pain. Objectively, I should have cared a lot more, but honestly my end reaction was "well, those events were quite interesting" as if a friend just told me about a story he read in the news. I need more from a novel.
June 13, 2020
3. 5
This was a hard book for me to rate. I liked the writing and what I learned from it but I did not like most of the characters or the sense of hopelessness it left behind. This is the second Indian novel I've read in the last month (Djinn Patrol on the Purple Line) and I actually liked this one more but both have left me feeling that there is no chance of real progress for this country. And I do not know how realistic this message of hopelessness is. This novel addressed violence and intolerance due to religious differences, aftereffects of this violence, class differences, corrupt, broken, and often inhumane police and justice system, and so on. The first part of the novel broke my heart as it focuses on the death of two brothers from a terrorist act. While the emotional impact lessened as the novel went on, the tension of what was going to happen to the characters never did. There were really no breaks from this despair with occasional humor or positive events. Liked this but with reservations.
This was a hard book for me to rate. I liked the writing and what I learned from it but I did not like most of the characters or the sense of hopelessness it left behind. This is the second Indian novel I've read in the last month (Djinn Patrol on the Purple Line) and I actually liked this one more but both have left me feeling that there is no chance of real progress for this country. And I do not know how realistic this message of hopelessness is. This novel addressed violence and intolerance due to religious differences, aftereffects of this violence, class differences, corrupt, broken, and often inhumane police and justice system, and so on. The first part of the novel broke my heart as it focuses on the death of two brothers from a terrorist act. While the emotional impact lessened as the novel went on, the tension of what was going to happen to the characters never did. There were really no breaks from this despair with occasional humor or positive events. Liked this but with reservations.
October 8, 2016
I wish I had read this in print rather than listened to the audio. The audio is well done but I often wanted to look back at earlier parts of the book to check on names and connections. My goal for today was to finish the last two of the five books on the 2016 National Book Award Fiction shortlist. This audiobook took awhile because I was doing a bicycle tour with a bunch of other people for a week and had to pay attention to the route. And that may have been a good thing, because I found the book better when I was able to get back to it. It seems I had subconsciously been pondering where the story was going and considering the implications.
This book begins with a small terrorist bomb going off in a market in Delhi India. Important for the story this book tells are the two Hindu boys who are killed and their 12-year old friend, a Muslim boy, who is injured. The parents of the boys are friends. Also important is the terrorist who built and planted the bomb. The book tells the story of the surviving boy, the parents of the dead boys, the terrorist, and the best friends of the terrorist and the surviving boy. Their stories are ultimately quite sad and linked to this bombing, although at times it looks like, at least for the surviving boy and the parents of dead boys, that they have made it through the worst of the pain, mental and physical, inflicted by that bomb.
In many ways, this is a book about how tragedy impacts individuals, how they cope, and how they are impacted by subsequent events. There is nothing sweet about the sadness of this novel.
This book begins with a small terrorist bomb going off in a market in Delhi India. Important for the story this book tells are the two Hindu boys who are killed and their 12-year old friend, a Muslim boy, who is injured. The parents of the boys are friends. Also important is the terrorist who built and planted the bomb. The book tells the story of the surviving boy, the parents of the dead boys, the terrorist, and the best friends of the terrorist and the surviving boy. Their stories are ultimately quite sad and linked to this bombing, although at times it looks like, at least for the surviving boy and the parents of dead boys, that they have made it through the worst of the pain, mental and physical, inflicted by that bomb.
In many ways, this is a book about how tragedy impacts individuals, how they cope, and how they are impacted by subsequent events. There is nothing sweet about the sadness of this novel.
February 12, 2016
A really engrossing novel about the ripple effects that a small bomb in a Delhi market has on a number of families - from the parents of the two young boys who are two of the small number of victims on the day, to their best friend who somehow survives but is left with physical and psychological scars, to the friends he goes on to make and their increasing radicalisation.
The writing is really evocative, taking you to the dusty streets of India and immersing you in the everyday chaos and then the aftermath of the explosion, and its longer-lasting effect on the lives of those involved. The characters are engaging and their slow unraveling is painful to watch - be it the grieving parents unable to cope without their two sons, or the band-aid baby they subsequently have who turns into an unwanted reminder of their loss.
This is not a book that gives you a Hollywood happy ending. There are some elements of redemption along the way, there is also a lot of heartbreak, tragedy and lives wasted. A fascinating and challenging read.
The writing is really evocative, taking you to the dusty streets of India and immersing you in the everyday chaos and then the aftermath of the explosion, and its longer-lasting effect on the lives of those involved. The characters are engaging and their slow unraveling is painful to watch - be it the grieving parents unable to cope without their two sons, or the band-aid baby they subsequently have who turns into an unwanted reminder of their loss.
This is not a book that gives you a Hollywood happy ending. There are some elements of redemption along the way, there is also a lot of heartbreak, tragedy and lives wasted. A fascinating and challenging read.
June 5, 2018
2.5 stars
I feel conflicted about how I should go about discussing this book.
Parts I loved. I thought the prose and general writing style were very strong. I felt an immediate connection to most of the characters.
But oh my goodness the misogyny. I am NOT saying that the author in any way appears to be condoning misogynistic behavior/attitudes. But there's just so much of it on the page. I found it exhausting.
I just didn't want to spend any time with the characters that dominated the second half of the book, and so ultimately it felt like a chore to read.
I feel conflicted about how I should go about discussing this book.
Parts I loved. I thought the prose and general writing style were very strong. I felt an immediate connection to most of the characters.
But oh my goodness the misogyny. I am NOT saying that the author in any way appears to be condoning misogynistic behavior/attitudes. But there's just so much of it on the page. I found it exhausting.
I just didn't want to spend any time with the characters that dominated the second half of the book, and so ultimately it felt like a chore to read.
July 18, 2016
I hardly know what to say about this book except that I love it. At first I thought the prose might be a little too purple but the longer I read, the more I appreciated the descriptions. This book examines a selection of people involved in a terrorist bombing in a street market in Delhi: two of the victims, a survivor, their families, and the terrorists who set off the bomb. How these lives intertwine and affect each other lead to a surprising result.
Read
September 18, 201710/10 Last Year's Novel module.
March 13, 2017
In May of 1996, in a marketplace in Delhi, India, a small car bomb goes off, killing thirteen and wounding many others. Mahajan examines this bombing from many angles: the bomb maker, the victims, their families and the aftermath.
Tushar and Nakul Khurana, two young Hindu boys, are headed to the market to pick up a repaired tv set for their father. They are supposed to drop off their friend Mansoor Ahmed, the only son of a wealthy, overprotective Muslim couple, at his home first, but the boys talk him into having a little adventure and head straight to the market.
Both of the Khurana boys are killed instantly when the car bomb goes off but Mansoor is able to walk away with a badly fractured wrist. Both families suffer the agony of fear until their boys are found and their fates are known. Mahajan then examines how each family deals with the aftermath and how it affects their marriages. How can the Khurana family carry on after losing both of their children? But the Ahmeds suffer too and Mansoor endures much pain and and has to go through months of therapy. How can his family ever let him leave the house again?
Then we meet the bomb maker, Shockie, who is part of a group fighting for Kashmiri independence. The bomb was meant to be a signal to the central government about the elections they were organizing in Kashmir. Their dream is to start a true Islamic revolution in their country. "Plant enough bombs and you create uncertainty in the economy and investment dries."
Several people are rounded up by the police, including Shockie's best friend, Malik, who is ironically a follower of Ghandi's nonviolence philosophy and writes pamphlets for their group. There is no speedy trial here and the accused rot away for years in prison.
Mansoor grows up, goes off to college in the US and returns home where he joins a group calling themselves Peace for All, ironically working to free those imprisoned for the bombings. The leader of the group is a young Muslem named Ayub Azmi who exerts a great influence on the impressionable Mansoor, who often finds he cannot say no.
Have you ever wondered about the rational behind these acts of terrorism, how they can justify the taking of innocent lives? Here's one opinion:
"Casualties can't be avoided. If anything, it's preferable. If you are worried about innocents, think about it this way--the fewer that die, the lonelier the victims are. It's better for the event to be big, to affect many. People say 9/11 was the worst terror attack of all time--was it? I think the small bombs that we hear about all the time, that go off in unknown markets, killing five or six, are worse. They concentrate the pain on the lives of a few. Better to kill generously rather than stingily."
In his well-written novel, Mahajan shines a light on terrorism so the reader sees it from all sides. Is knowledge empowering? I think so. The more we know, the wiser our decisions.
I won a paperback copy of this novel in a Goodreads giveaway. Many thanks for the opportunity to read this important work of fiction.
Tushar and Nakul Khurana, two young Hindu boys, are headed to the market to pick up a repaired tv set for their father. They are supposed to drop off their friend Mansoor Ahmed, the only son of a wealthy, overprotective Muslim couple, at his home first, but the boys talk him into having a little adventure and head straight to the market.
Both of the Khurana boys are killed instantly when the car bomb goes off but Mansoor is able to walk away with a badly fractured wrist. Both families suffer the agony of fear until their boys are found and their fates are known. Mahajan then examines how each family deals with the aftermath and how it affects their marriages. How can the Khurana family carry on after losing both of their children? But the Ahmeds suffer too and Mansoor endures much pain and and has to go through months of therapy. How can his family ever let him leave the house again?
Then we meet the bomb maker, Shockie, who is part of a group fighting for Kashmiri independence. The bomb was meant to be a signal to the central government about the elections they were organizing in Kashmir. Their dream is to start a true Islamic revolution in their country. "Plant enough bombs and you create uncertainty in the economy and investment dries."
Several people are rounded up by the police, including Shockie's best friend, Malik, who is ironically a follower of Ghandi's nonviolence philosophy and writes pamphlets for their group. There is no speedy trial here and the accused rot away for years in prison.
Mansoor grows up, goes off to college in the US and returns home where he joins a group calling themselves Peace for All, ironically working to free those imprisoned for the bombings. The leader of the group is a young Muslem named Ayub Azmi who exerts a great influence on the impressionable Mansoor, who often finds he cannot say no.
Have you ever wondered about the rational behind these acts of terrorism, how they can justify the taking of innocent lives? Here's one opinion:
"Casualties can't be avoided. If anything, it's preferable. If you are worried about innocents, think about it this way--the fewer that die, the lonelier the victims are. It's better for the event to be big, to affect many. People say 9/11 was the worst terror attack of all time--was it? I think the small bombs that we hear about all the time, that go off in unknown markets, killing five or six, are worse. They concentrate the pain on the lives of a few. Better to kill generously rather than stingily."
In his well-written novel, Mahajan shines a light on terrorism so the reader sees it from all sides. Is knowledge empowering? I think so. The more we know, the wiser our decisions.
I won a paperback copy of this novel in a Goodreads giveaway. Many thanks for the opportunity to read this important work of fiction.
March 21, 2017
Not sure what all the hype is about. "Small Bombs" was entertaining. The plot had a lot of potential, I just don't think it lived up to it. With a few hundred more pages, I might have compared this to The Sympathizer, but because things were only developed sufficient to tell a coherent (though spare) story, it falls a bit short of that mark.
December 11, 2016
The first five pages of The Association of Small Bombs is a narrative that perfectly sets the tone for the rest of the novel. A terrorist bombing in a crowded Dehli market kills two Hindu brothers and injures their Muslim friend. Karan Mahajan describes the tumult of the market and the results of the bombing; we meet the parents of the dead children and see their immediate psychological reaction to their loss.
Excerpt: “Back in the market, people collapsed, then got up, their hands pressed to their wounds, as if they had smashed eggs against their bodies in hypnotic agreement and were unsure about what to do with the runny, bloody yolk. Most startling of all, for the survivors and rescue workers both, was the realization that the main dusty square was rooted so firmly by half a dozen massive trees, trees that had gone all but unnoticed in all those years their shadows dingy with commerce, their branches cranked low with hanging wares, their droppings of mulberry collected and sold - until the bomb had loosened the green gums of the trees and sent down a shower of leaves, which Mr. Khurana kicked up on the ground as he tried to uncover the bodies of his two sons.”
Subsequent chapters flesh out the stories. “Victims” walks us through the parents’ immediate reaction; “Terrorists” bravely takes us into the world of the bombers who are presented as real people. The rest of the book focusses on the “response to terror” - the changes in the lives of the parents, Mansoor (the injured boy), and the friends that Mansoor develops when he becomes politically active.
The dialogue, sense of place, descriptions, and relationships sound true. In particular, the author very effectively portrays the disintegration of the grieving parents’ relationship and Mansoor’s evolution after experiencing post 9/11 racism in the U.S. and chronic pain from the bombing. Issues of class, religion, politics, family systems, skin color, and sexuality are woven throughout, giving the individual stories depth and meaning.
Mahajan takes us into the terrorists’ frame of mind, which can be hard to take. While there may be push back in how this point of view is expressed, I found it interesting. There are other aspects of the book that made me uncomfortable, but I assume that was the intent.
The writing is good without being showy and the structure works. I wasn’t emotionally involved, but perhaps that is because I don’t have anything in common with the characters or situations. The Association of Small Bombs should appeal to readers with interest in India and in how people cope with terrorism, limitations, and loss.
Excerpt that, as a former city planner, I can’t resist quoting:
“In the end, his role was so small, he felt foolish about the build up, the training, the waiting - is this all it came to? Dropping off a bag at Sarojini Nagar, a market so crowded it was surprising no one had set off a bomb there? Some people will die, he thought, that’s true. But they’ll expand the market’s security after the blast. The MCD will push the encroaching shops back from the road. And the crowds will be funneled through one of those security doorways you see at cinemas and airports. No - I’m only doing the inevitable. If not me, then someone else. I’m pointing out the flaws in the system. Terror is a form of urban planning”.
Excellent review from NYT:
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/03/20/boo...
Excerpt: “Back in the market, people collapsed, then got up, their hands pressed to their wounds, as if they had smashed eggs against their bodies in hypnotic agreement and were unsure about what to do with the runny, bloody yolk. Most startling of all, for the survivors and rescue workers both, was the realization that the main dusty square was rooted so firmly by half a dozen massive trees, trees that had gone all but unnoticed in all those years their shadows dingy with commerce, their branches cranked low with hanging wares, their droppings of mulberry collected and sold - until the bomb had loosened the green gums of the trees and sent down a shower of leaves, which Mr. Khurana kicked up on the ground as he tried to uncover the bodies of his two sons.”
Subsequent chapters flesh out the stories. “Victims” walks us through the parents’ immediate reaction; “Terrorists” bravely takes us into the world of the bombers who are presented as real people. The rest of the book focusses on the “response to terror” - the changes in the lives of the parents, Mansoor (the injured boy), and the friends that Mansoor develops when he becomes politically active.
The dialogue, sense of place, descriptions, and relationships sound true. In particular, the author very effectively portrays the disintegration of the grieving parents’ relationship and Mansoor’s evolution after experiencing post 9/11 racism in the U.S. and chronic pain from the bombing. Issues of class, religion, politics, family systems, skin color, and sexuality are woven throughout, giving the individual stories depth and meaning.
Mahajan takes us into the terrorists’ frame of mind, which can be hard to take. While there may be push back in how this point of view is expressed, I found it interesting. There are other aspects of the book that made me uncomfortable, but I assume that was the intent.
The writing is good without being showy and the structure works. I wasn’t emotionally involved, but perhaps that is because I don’t have anything in common with the characters or situations. The Association of Small Bombs should appeal to readers with interest in India and in how people cope with terrorism, limitations, and loss.
Excerpt that, as a former city planner, I can’t resist quoting:
“In the end, his role was so small, he felt foolish about the build up, the training, the waiting - is this all it came to? Dropping off a bag at Sarojini Nagar, a market so crowded it was surprising no one had set off a bomb there? Some people will die, he thought, that’s true. But they’ll expand the market’s security after the blast. The MCD will push the encroaching shops back from the road. And the crowds will be funneled through one of those security doorways you see at cinemas and airports. No - I’m only doing the inevitable. If not me, then someone else. I’m pointing out the flaws in the system. Terror is a form of urban planning”.
Excellent review from NYT:
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/03/20/boo...
September 27, 2016
In this brief and surreal novel - the author's second - Karan Mahajan probes the illogic driving catastrophist terrorism, and the damage done to three families over the course of 15 years. The book confounds expectations by not attempting to delve into those choosing violence through a path of devoutness. In fact, Islam is only present in the book in order to demonstrate how residents of Delhi and India at large make assumptions about Muslim citizens, the sort of assumptions that drive the BJP, current Prime Minister Narendra Modi, and indeed a large percentage of Hindu citizens throughout India (and similarities between India and the U.S. are ever-present in the novel).
Many in the novel - the bomb-maker Shockie, the propagandist Malik - seem to choose the path of violence for operationalist reasons, or as the result of accidental stumbling they can scarce explain to themselves, let alone others. Malik becomes a devotee of Gandhi midway through the novel, something that gains him little advantage and explains nothing. The author appears to assume the necessity of choosing nonviolence in all things, while at the same time admitting to its futility. When Ayub exclaims near the book's end "I am the bomb!," we realize the same could be said of several characters, including the book's first two victims, Tushal and Nakul Khurana. All of the innocent victims are the bomb - not in the trite and typical sense that no one among civilian victims is truly innocent, but in a deeper and more frightening sense that we are all walking disasters with short fuses.
The book cites the Indian Prevention of Terrorism Act, and indeed the novel itself may fall victim to many such acts in 2016, as one character in the book attempts the assassination of Modi, who was governor of Gujarat at the time of the act, but is today India's prime minister. Book-banning is much less common in the 21st century than it was through much of the first half of the previous one, but The Association of Small Bombs may indeed be a book that tests limits - not because it defends or rationalizes terror in any way, shape or form, but because it is so frank in its descriptions of how catastrophist movements develop, and how difficult it may be to stop the "lone wolf" act.
The book does not reach any uplifting or satisfying moral conclusions, nor does it plunge the reader into despair. It creates a networked, bottoms-up view of how violence against the innocent can be justified in the minds of operationalists - some with agendas, but many without a clear idea of how they become monsters. And ultimately, that is what makes this novel scarier than any run of the mill political mystery could be.
Many in the novel - the bomb-maker Shockie, the propagandist Malik - seem to choose the path of violence for operationalist reasons, or as the result of accidental stumbling they can scarce explain to themselves, let alone others. Malik becomes a devotee of Gandhi midway through the novel, something that gains him little advantage and explains nothing. The author appears to assume the necessity of choosing nonviolence in all things, while at the same time admitting to its futility. When Ayub exclaims near the book's end "I am the bomb!," we realize the same could be said of several characters, including the book's first two victims, Tushal and Nakul Khurana. All of the innocent victims are the bomb - not in the trite and typical sense that no one among civilian victims is truly innocent, but in a deeper and more frightening sense that we are all walking disasters with short fuses.
The book cites the Indian Prevention of Terrorism Act, and indeed the novel itself may fall victim to many such acts in 2016, as one character in the book attempts the assassination of Modi, who was governor of Gujarat at the time of the act, but is today India's prime minister. Book-banning is much less common in the 21st century than it was through much of the first half of the previous one, but The Association of Small Bombs may indeed be a book that tests limits - not because it defends or rationalizes terror in any way, shape or form, but because it is so frank in its descriptions of how catastrophist movements develop, and how difficult it may be to stop the "lone wolf" act.
The book does not reach any uplifting or satisfying moral conclusions, nor does it plunge the reader into despair. It creates a networked, bottoms-up view of how violence against the innocent can be justified in the minds of operationalists - some with agendas, but many without a clear idea of how they become monsters. And ultimately, that is what makes this novel scarier than any run of the mill political mystery could be.
May 19, 2022
This is a novel that will make you hold your loved ones close. It’s the story of how one event, whether it be small by some people’s standards, can irreversibly change the lives of others. It’s frank, honest, and it doesn’t shy away from topics that might be uncomfortable. I absolutely recommend it.
December 30, 2016
It is safe to say that most of us accept the fact that we live in a world where terrorists can plant bombs or blow themselves up at any time and probably any place. When these events occur we are horrified whether it is in Boston, Paris, Istanbul, or elsewhere. We tend to devote our attention to the victims of terror, and less so to the thoughts and appeal that is exerted on the terrorists themselves. In Karan Mahajan’s powerful second novel, THE ASSOCIATION OF SMALL BOMBS the reader experiences the usual grief and psychological impact of the victims of an attack in a market in Delhi, but also insights into the inner lives of the terrorists themselves. The novel begins rather casually when Vikas Khurana, a documentary filmmaker sends his two boys, Tushar and Nakul, ages 11 and 13 to pick up a television at a repair shop in the Lajpat Najar neighborhood along with their friend Mansoor Ahmed. While walking in the neighborhood a bomb explodes killing the Khurana boys with Mansoor surviving with injuries to his wrist and arm. The core of the novel focuses on the Khuranas and Mansoor’s feelings of grief as a result of the attack, the psychological effects of the violence on Mansoor and how he copes, the lack of trust and hatred between Hindus and Muslims, and the battle between the corrupt values of the west represented by India and the purity of Islam.
The range of emotions by the main characters is profound. Mansoor suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder almost immediately as he expressed his survivor’s guilt. Vikas was filled with self-loathing, doubt, and bitterness because of the decisions he had made previously, particularly remaining in the family house in Delhi and not moving to Bombay where this documentary filmmaker could have been more successful, or perhaps continuing his career as an accountant and giving up film. Deepa, the dead boy’s mother was filled with grief and did not know how to channel her revenge and wanted to meet the terrorists face to face. Mahajan even explores the emotional world of the terrorists in examining the relationship of the bomb maker, Shaukat “Shockie” Guru and that of Malik Aziz said to be the ideologue of the JKIF (Jammu Kashmir Islamic Force) responsible for the attack, who in reality was his intellectual friend who was against the use of terror. Once Malik is arrested by the police and is tortured, Shockie wonders what has become of him.
Each of Mahajam’s characters goes on a separate journey in order to try and recover from the blast. For the Khuranas it is personal and difficult as they try to maintain their own relationship and gain insights into themselves and their new situation. Vikas is more introspective as he relives his life before the attack through dreams at night and during the day. The result is despair as he tries to keep his wife Deepa from going over the edge. In their attempt to emerge whole they produce a daughter, Anusha as Mahajam has a poigniont scene where they think back to how they all slept together in one bed, and with the boys gone, they refuse to sleep in the large bed and place a mattress on the floor instead where their daughter is conceived. For Mansoor’s parents there are accusations against Vikas who they blame for the plight of their son, who survived the bombing, but inscurs nerve and psychological damage as a result. They become overprotective and the end result causes more damage to Mansoor, rather than providing him the freedom and support that he needed.
Mansoor’s journey is ironic and complex as Mahajam develops his novel. The journey is one of self-discovery as Mansoor who survived the 1996 blast perpetuated by Islamic terrorists that causes excrutiating nerve pain in his wrists that will eventually preclude him from pursuing his main interest in computer science. The nerve pain develops immediately after the blast, but subsides as he travels to the United States for college. However, at Santa Ckara University his condition deteriorates as he has the freedom to surf the internet resulting in increased physical pain to his wrists and arm and an addiction to porn. When he returns to Delhi he becomes involved with a Non-Governmental Organization (NGO) called “Peace For All” that is involved in assisting the men who have been charged with carrying out the 1996 attack.
The problem is that the authorities have arrested and tortured the wrong men and “Peace For All” leaders try and get Mansoor to join them in fighting the authorities. One of the NGO members, Ayub convinces Mansoor to read a book, Religion of Pain and inside he learns of the concepts of introspection and visualization that help him overcome the psychological component that contributes to his pain threshold. In so doing he allows himself to pursue Islam, a religion that he had not practiced in years. Through the theology of Islam and attending the Mosque with Ayub he finds a cure for his addiction to porn and reduces his pain level substantially. Mansoor comes to the realization that his body had imploded since 1996, and that he himself had become the bomb.
Mahajan’s evocative and deeply personal approach to his characters allows the reader to develop an understanding of the emotional depths they explore, allowing them to look at their own lives, decisions they have made in the past, and consider a somewhat different approach to the future. However, despite progress, Mansoor suddenly takes a step back and the self-loathing returns.
The story meanders and grows fascinating as the lives of the characters become intertwined and by the end of the novel it seems everyone comes full circle. What amazed me while reading the book is how Mahajan pulls together all aspects of the story on many levels and creates an ending that one could not have imagined. The novel’s conclusion is tragic for all involved, victims and their perpetrators, leaving the reader wondering if this is a true reality. The title, THE ASSOCIATION OF SMALL BOMBS may refer to a self-help organization for victims of terrorism, but in reality it is all of us as we try to navigate what our world has become. The book is a meditation on how we cope with everyday life as the Delhi neighborhood where most of the novel takes place can be anywhere.
The range of emotions by the main characters is profound. Mansoor suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder almost immediately as he expressed his survivor’s guilt. Vikas was filled with self-loathing, doubt, and bitterness because of the decisions he had made previously, particularly remaining in the family house in Delhi and not moving to Bombay where this documentary filmmaker could have been more successful, or perhaps continuing his career as an accountant and giving up film. Deepa, the dead boy’s mother was filled with grief and did not know how to channel her revenge and wanted to meet the terrorists face to face. Mahajan even explores the emotional world of the terrorists in examining the relationship of the bomb maker, Shaukat “Shockie” Guru and that of Malik Aziz said to be the ideologue of the JKIF (Jammu Kashmir Islamic Force) responsible for the attack, who in reality was his intellectual friend who was against the use of terror. Once Malik is arrested by the police and is tortured, Shockie wonders what has become of him.
Each of Mahajam’s characters goes on a separate journey in order to try and recover from the blast. For the Khuranas it is personal and difficult as they try to maintain their own relationship and gain insights into themselves and their new situation. Vikas is more introspective as he relives his life before the attack through dreams at night and during the day. The result is despair as he tries to keep his wife Deepa from going over the edge. In their attempt to emerge whole they produce a daughter, Anusha as Mahajam has a poigniont scene where they think back to how they all slept together in one bed, and with the boys gone, they refuse to sleep in the large bed and place a mattress on the floor instead where their daughter is conceived. For Mansoor’s parents there are accusations against Vikas who they blame for the plight of their son, who survived the bombing, but inscurs nerve and psychological damage as a result. They become overprotective and the end result causes more damage to Mansoor, rather than providing him the freedom and support that he needed.
Mansoor’s journey is ironic and complex as Mahajam develops his novel. The journey is one of self-discovery as Mansoor who survived the 1996 blast perpetuated by Islamic terrorists that causes excrutiating nerve pain in his wrists that will eventually preclude him from pursuing his main interest in computer science. The nerve pain develops immediately after the blast, but subsides as he travels to the United States for college. However, at Santa Ckara University his condition deteriorates as he has the freedom to surf the internet resulting in increased physical pain to his wrists and arm and an addiction to porn. When he returns to Delhi he becomes involved with a Non-Governmental Organization (NGO) called “Peace For All” that is involved in assisting the men who have been charged with carrying out the 1996 attack.
The problem is that the authorities have arrested and tortured the wrong men and “Peace For All” leaders try and get Mansoor to join them in fighting the authorities. One of the NGO members, Ayub convinces Mansoor to read a book, Religion of Pain and inside he learns of the concepts of introspection and visualization that help him overcome the psychological component that contributes to his pain threshold. In so doing he allows himself to pursue Islam, a religion that he had not practiced in years. Through the theology of Islam and attending the Mosque with Ayub he finds a cure for his addiction to porn and reduces his pain level substantially. Mansoor comes to the realization that his body had imploded since 1996, and that he himself had become the bomb.
Mahajan’s evocative and deeply personal approach to his characters allows the reader to develop an understanding of the emotional depths they explore, allowing them to look at their own lives, decisions they have made in the past, and consider a somewhat different approach to the future. However, despite progress, Mansoor suddenly takes a step back and the self-loathing returns.
The story meanders and grows fascinating as the lives of the characters become intertwined and by the end of the novel it seems everyone comes full circle. What amazed me while reading the book is how Mahajan pulls together all aspects of the story on many levels and creates an ending that one could not have imagined. The novel’s conclusion is tragic for all involved, victims and their perpetrators, leaving the reader wondering if this is a true reality. The title, THE ASSOCIATION OF SMALL BOMBS may refer to a self-help organization for victims of terrorism, but in reality it is all of us as we try to navigate what our world has become. The book is a meditation on how we cope with everyday life as the Delhi neighborhood where most of the novel takes place can be anywhere.
September 22, 2016
3.5 Stars
July 27, 2016
A book of our times. Much has been said about how this book follows the aftermath of a bombing in Delhi but it also explores radicalisation and gets into the minds of terrorists in a way I have never read before. This book is not what I thought it was going to be; it was better. The writing style was so simple and the book's not particularly quotable but Mahajan packs all the impact into the story and characters. Very impressive.
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