SECOND STRIKE By Rajesh Rajagopalan Viking Price: Rs 395 Pages: 256

Ever since 9/11 made terrorism the biggest threat to global peace and stability, the danger of a nuclear war that so dominated 20th century strategic thinking has receded to the background. The chief worry these days is of the weapon falling into the hands of terrorists who could use it to make a more devastating strike than the one that brought down the Twin Towers in New York.

So, a book titled Second Strike: Arguments About Nuclear War in South Asia may appear dated. After all, it is now seven years since both India and Pakistan conducted a series of nuclear tests and much has been said and written about the consequences to subcontinental stability. But perhaps this is also the best time to review the 1998 nuclear tests and see if the two countries-by making their weapons capability overt-had reduced the danger of a nuclear confrontation between them or pushed it into a hair-trigger mode. Also to analyse whether the nuclear doctrines sketchily outlined by them has reassured the world that nuking each other is the last option.

On both these counts, Rajesh Rajagopalan makes an important contribution to the debate. He does so by exploring theoretical constructs about nuclear strategy, including early concepts like Mutual Assured Destruction and Massive Retaliation, and probing their relevance to the subcontinental context. His conclusions are optimistic: he believes that the Indo-Pak nuclear dyad is far more stable than what proliferation pessimists have postulated because "they have prudent and careful military doctrines that back up their nuclear arsenals". He argues that Pakistan's nuclear doctrine is really "first use but last resort".

Yet developments after the 1998 tests have been far from comforting. There is growing evidence that both Pakistan and India brandished their nuclear weapons during the 1999 Kargil conflict, something that Rajagopalan fails to analyse in depth. Nor does he touch upon the subject of the alarming leak of nuclear secrets by A.Q. Khan which exposed Pakistan's inability to prevent misuse. Both these have raised danger levels, reiterating the fact that there can be no room for complacency. But with the US lifting India's nuclear pariah status last week, fresh evaluations may need to be made.

TIN FISH By Sudeep Chakravarti Penguin Price: Rs 250 Pages: 236

All debut coming-of-age novels showcase personal memories. This provides the fringe perk of stirring memories (and other parts besides) of every teenager of a certain vintage and gender who had wet dreams over Jacqueline Bisset's wet T-shirt and Zeenie Baby's inadequate choli. Nostalgia apart, the book dreams small-a few school terms. But it touches on Naxalites, Indira on a donkey and family politics too. Little Barun interprets Calcutta University slogans on walls thus: "imperialism" is what the English did to Indians. And Ma says "oppression" is what Papa's family did to her.

There is the usual tally of events: one death at home, one suicide in boarding school, one good cry on pretty Samira's chest, followed at end-term by feverish fondling of self-same chest. I notice Mayo College has this book splashed on its website. For it is here that the sheltered "Bongo" hero Barun becomes Brandy the "cat" Mayo "bugger". From ice creams at Mocambo, he now subsists on Monaco biscuits with Signal toothpaste for pudding.

Once callow (unable to tell cleavage from clavicle), he learns to tell his transitive verb from his intransitive ("Jaan fugged Mairy", "Mairy was fugged by Jaan"). Once respectful (he calls Jolly-pishi's Alsatian, Rudolf-da), he learns to take sides when friend Fish and teacher Mutt fight. He also learns why people call out "angrez ke aulad" as Mayoites pass. "India's Eton" is another planet.

An English, August it isn't, but Chakravarti's India is the real India. Why then does he try hard at desi teenspeak? We'd like the "you know?"s and "or something"s leaner on the page. Like Brandy's tabla sir stuck on teen tal, the matey style gets tiresome.