Review by Mr. Jaideep


Some Mistakes Have No Pardon is the story of Girish Kainmola, is family, his childhood, his growing years, his marriages, his children, his struggle, his journey (upward and downward), his adversities, his achievements and his MISTAKES. Girish is born in a very poor family where he had no scope of education and a normal growth. The family is struggling everyday to get meal and at times there is a lot of compromise on that front. There is a prediction by a learned man about Girish in a set of phrases and prophecies. Each of the phrase predicted by the learned man about Girish comes true during his whole lifecycle from time to time.

Some Mistakes Have No Pardon by Girdhar Joshi is a classical, non commercial style, simple and sincere effort by the author which will appeal you as a straight from the heart, introspective, philosophical, honest and slightly scientifically written story of Girish. There is a lot of philosophy from author’s end in the story which longs for 424 pages. The story is about Girish who somehow manages to get shelter from various people in his life who supported him to get formal education to a substantial level that helped him to build his career as an entrepreneur. So a guy who starts his life in rags reaches to riches. But like every human being, ego played a big role in Girish’s life and that became a prime reason of his downfall after touching the peaks of his life to bring him down to the bottom gradually. Story is quite interesting as the the lead role Girish is not someone with a very clean character and who easily got drifted with the winds of life. He is not able to adjust with his first wife Mala though they had two children – Siyana and Harrit – a daughter and a son respectively. Then Maya Subramaniam comes into his life as a Facebook contact and they both engaged to each other as soul-mates. But due to different opinions about life and relationship, it did not last long against their wishes. Then Tara comes into his life as his second wife ……..

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Excerpts from ‘Some Mistakes Have No Pardon’ by Girdhar Joshi

………‘You could find your destination, your ultimate goal. But everybody is not fortunate enough to find that. People like me would hardly get it, as they are always crying for love.’ Girish spoke his mind.

‘Yes…exactly, I cried for love too. But I got it…because He being the ocean of love. Only He can quench any thirst, which a mortal person on earth can’t ever do.’ Maya spoke about her soulmate, the Almighty.

‘Maya, you have found your soulmate. But I haven’t yet.’ Girish said.

‘Soulmate! What is soulmate, Girish? What is your definition of soulmate?’ Maya asked in just one breath.

‘Umm…well…One who understands you and one who accepts you as you are, one who loves you, and one who is a kind of support centre for you. And, one with whom you have a mental, physical, and spiritual relationship. That’s my definition of soulmate.’ Girish elaborated.

‘Hmm…’ Girish heard Maya just humming on phone.

‘So, my dear friend Maya, a soulmate is everything for me. Shall I find one?’ Girish probed Maya.

‘Yes… why not. Soulmates find each other. They naturally get attracted to each other. One has to be receptive. Let all the good waves enter into you.’ Maya replied.

‘Okay…fine. I will.’

‘And… to let the good waves enter, you need to clean you of all bad instincts inside you. If you shed all your inhibitions, your anger, your fears, and all your bitterness towards others, you will be receptive and you can recognize the signals when you come across your soulmate.’ Maya explained.

‘Definitely…I will, Maya.’

‘Don’t stray, Girish. There you have your soulmate, somewhere on this very earth. Girish, you will meet your soulmate, one day.’ Maya prophetically declared.

When the priest was blowing conch


Excerpts from ‘Some Mistakes Have No Pardon’

…It was a cloudy evening, not raining heavily, but drizzling. There was no snowfall yet. But the temperature must be touching zero. Freezing cold. The chilled January evening, when the water droplets on the oak leaves was freezing into ice, when the icy winds could freeze rain droplets before they rolled down to cheeks, when the old grannies and grandpas draped in the hand-woven black blankets in those hills were warming their wrinkled hands in the bonfire of dried pine wood, when the sun had sunken him behind the high peaks of a few western mountains of Kumaon, when the pale moon was struggling to show behind the  jamming clouds, when the resident priest of the temple was blowing conch and shaking the brass bell to awake the deity in his evening prayer, when the flock of birds were trying to hide and warm themselves in their nests behind the cedar leaves, when the frogs buried in the bamboo grooves had started their evening cacophony, when the newborns were crying for their mother’s breast milk, when the cows were ruminating in the cowsheds after grazing day long, when the ice-chilled tiles on the floor of the temple were freezing the blood in the bare feet of the bride and the groom on the temple premises in front of the watchful deity, then…only then, Girish put a garland made of black-pearl beads into the neck of Tara, his new bride, dressed in the fiery red attire, in the presence of two taxi drivers, the priest who refused to solemnize the marriage and looked the other side, and the emotions beating marble stone idol of the deity – in that temple at that hill top of Almora.