On April 30th, we boarded the train to Delhi. ‘We’ included our family and 3 other families. Almost every year we visited some places in India during the summer hols. This year we were planning to visit Delhi, Agra, Mathura, Brindavan, Amritsar, Manali. Was I thrilled about the prospect? Was I looking forward to the trip eagerly? Well, actually the answer would be a very hesitant yes. I’m not a keen traveler at all. Give me my home, a book and Music I like and I’ve Paradise right within my clasp. However my husband and sons were mighty excited about the trip and that alone was reason enough for me to go along and I was determined to be at my cheerful best. The thing is that I’m too wary about travel comfort, hygiene, food quality, restroom facilities. Travel can be fine if all these factors are ensured but when one is in a mixed company its not always possible to stick to one’s idea of such matters. Our friends are very good company, most helpful, cooperative and adjusting but well, they go pretty easy on the aspects that I was concerned about.
I was traveling by a/c for the first time and the trip began comfortably. Last year we had gone by the non a/c and we got practically roasted as we passed through the Andhra terrains. This time I was swathed in sweaters inside the train while it was sweltering outside! I smiled, I laughed, I sang, played with the others but was I actually enjoying? I’m not sure. It was like I had left my soul behind. I don’t know why I’m like this?
We got introduced to a young American couple- a doctor and a professor who had chosen to come and work in India. They were very enthused by their experiences and shared their thoughts with us. Now they were returning home after visiting Agra and Manali.
We reached Delhi on 2nd noon. The heat outside hit us like razor blades. We refreshed ourselves at the guest house we were to stay in and then proceeded to Akshardham. I was a trifle disappointed that we could not make time to visit the Hall of Values- 50 minutes, Neelkantha darsan-40 minutes, Sanskruti Vihar boat ride. What then did we see there? We walked around , sometimes slowly and in a hurry at other times, gazed at the exquisite elephant sculptures. The place was sprawling and quite impressive and yet I remained somewhat untouched. As everyone around me raved , I was wondering what was it that I was looking for?
From there we went to the India Gate. I had been there years ago with my parents and brother.. I remember being touched by the thought of the soldiers who had laid down their lives for the freedom that we were now enjoying. I was wondering if our children realized the significance. As I type these words, I’m thinking that I wanted solitude- to be alone with all the sights around me. I was incapable of enjoying to the full the sights and the places in a lively group. However, one thing I realize that but for this group we would never have made the trip in the first place. We sat on the grounds as darkness was first setting in and a girl came over asking us if we wanted to apply hennah on our palms. We let her do our palms and she did it pretty fast. I participated in every everything but somehow felt strangely disconnected from everything.
Next day we went to Agra. TAJ MAHAL….As I beheld the all too familiar splendour standing out against the blazing skies, I was desperately trying to summon some kind of feeling…We gingerly traipsed along the sizzling mats into the cool interior of the mausoleum. Time management was proving to be a detrimental issue and so we jostled through the crowds. There were solitary moments when I was beckoned by the legend of the Taj, but there was no time to pause. We were scattered, the men were in the front as I sauntered up to my husband who was enjoying a joke with his friends. I whispered to him that I wanted to come back here on some cool twilight evening, sit down and simply gaze up at this sight. My husband smiled and said we’ll come again. Yeah.Sure.
We roamed the precincts and inner sanctum of the Agra fort when the sun was at the summit. The guide’s description made the tour somewhat bearable. But we were all so exhausted and thirsty because of the heat. I kept remembering scenes from Jodha Akbar and kept seeing Hrithik and Aishwarya in the locations in my mind's eye! I kept musing how everything would’ve been so much different if only it wasn’t so hot and we had lots of time to saunter to our hearts content.
From there we raced to Mathura- the place of Lord Krishna’s birth. I fervently tried to ignore the merciless heat, the oppressing thirst and my throbbing temples.I was determined to smile through it all. Only now as I type these words I’m reliving the sheer truth of it all.
On 4th, we boarded the train to Kiratpur. I was hearing the name for the first time .( Incidentally, I happened to see Veer Zaara after our return and when I heard Kiratpur mentioned as the place which Preity Zinta comes to restore her Bebe’s ashes, I was thrilled!). The berth on which I perched for the night had nails jutting out, 2 small kids were sharing the berth opposite mine and I was unable to go to sleep for a long time worried that the kids would kick eachother and tumble down from the upper berth. The father and mother slept blissfully on the middle and lower berths respectively. And the girl was coughing so badly.
From Kiratpur, we hired a van to take us to Manlai. The uphill trudge made some of us queasy, some of us threw up on the way- all in all it was one idyllic journey. The van had to stop at some place for some minor repairs as we got cooked inside. The heat outside made us wonder if we were really on the right route to the snowy caps of Manali. However to our relief and respite the air finally became cooler and the scenic beauty was quite captivating.
We found our hotel- a nice, cosy place but yes it was brrr-cold. Darjeeling on our previous trip was much colder. Here, there were times when I could bear to remove my sweaters and scarves, but in Darjeeling I was clinging to my cardigans, mittens and socks for sheer survival. Our friends who could not live without their daily dose of ‘thayir saadam’ succeeded in finding a restaurant that served good south Indian fare in the hills of Manali. It was a good place though.
Next morning, we climbed the hills to snow point in a place called Marih- Rohtang pass had been closed due to heavy snow fall. Our friends were gasping at the breath taking view of snow laden mountains. I too tried to share their thrill but honestly I was unable to feel the same way. The uphill ride was too precarious but I was too preoccupied with the cold to be nervous. We were wearing all the protective gear and I was grateful for the warmth that it gave. We looked like astronauts. We reached the summit after hours of slow travel. We climbed the snow laden mountains and it was drizzling sleet. The huge masses of frozen mountains that stood menacingly all around awed me naught. To me it looked like an endless expanse of lifelessness- the magnificence failed to evoke in me an inspiring awe. I could only perceive the stillness, the frozen aspect of Nature as lifeless-The gurgling, gushing angry waters of the Beas instilled fear in me- It was always only stretches of lush greenery, flowers and gentle warmth that brought cheer and serenity to my soul. I was wondering why I was feeling different from the others?
When I had seen pictures of snow in the past my brain had understood snow to be soft and spongy. The snow I beheld now were chunks of glassy ice. I was not charmed by the sheaths of glassy, crystalline all around me. My limbs cringed at the assault and I longed for the cosy warmth of the plains. The sheer lifelessness, the enormity of the deathlike glassy reflected glacier sheaths failed to evoke cheer in me. But I looked around me- my friends were laughing and I joined in the merriment. I did not want to be the odd one out. We took photographs – frozen memories. We partook of hot steaming noodles under a leaky tent. It was delicious. And finally we returned downhill.
In the evening we visited the Hidimba ( Bheema’s wife) temple, Vasishtha temple with hot springs. My elder son hung on a harness above the roaring rapids and I looked away.
Next day we trudged uphill endlessly to reach the only temple dedicated to Manu the first Man according to the Hindu scriptures. We also visited the Jataka temple and Van Vihar and did a bit of hurried shopping- mainly for souveneirs.
From Manali we left for Amritsar. The 12-13 hour van ride was tedious to say the least. We wanted to make it to the Wagah border. As we sprinted along the somewhat regulated crowd, I felt excitement building up within me as we moved among people from all over the country. As we passed through that narrow strip of land between the 2 massive gates- Pakistan on my right and India on my left, tears sprung to my eye and I was shivering in the blazing summer evening. I’m not sure I’ll be able to decribe what I felt during those moments, simply because I myself don’t know clearly. Basically I believe in the Universality of Humanity and I feel we are one with Nature and yet during those moments I was overwhelmed by some other emotion that I cannot define or name. Let me just say that during those moments the sheer proximity of these 2 countries which used to be one blurred the margins for me.
We waited on the open balcony seats for the ritual salute to begin. The sun lashed on us mercilessly and the wait was extremely uncomfortable. Patriotic songs blared from either frontiers. At some point, people, mostly girls began dancing enthusiastically on our side of the wall. There were people decrying the dancing display and there were people who simply watched. I belonged to the latter group – unknown strangers from all over the country holding hands and matching steps for those few minutes.
Finally the ritual salute began, the synchronization on either frontier- the salutes, that split second when the flags touched in an embrace, when the soldiers from either side shook hands- those moments made it all worth while for me. I cannot say what went on in the minds of the rest of the multitude. We came away exhausted but with a lightness in our being.
From the Wagah Border we went to the guest house we were to put up for the night. We freshened up and then proceeded to the Golden temple.
My first glimpse of the Golden Temple glimmering in the dark- the shimmering reflection in the waters around as I descended the stairs -it was so astounding . For me, in that moment the whole world reduced to a bubble and I was enveloped by as sense of immensely soothing serenity and sense of well being. For me it went beyond religion or community. I was lulled into a sense of being alone with the Universe in spite of the sea of people around me.
The Gurudwara is extremely well maintained and the members of the Sikh Community irrespective of their socio- economic standing worked towards the upkeep of the entire place. A member explained to us the history of the Gurudwara , at our request. The experience there made my entire trip most worth while and a most cherishable memory. I came away feeling blessed.
We returned to Delhi the next day. We visited the ISKCON temple, the Lotus (Bahai) Temple. As we were leaving the Lotus temple, we received the +2 results of our children. There were three (including my elder son) of them who had appeared for the +2 exams. Excepting for one of the girls, the results were not much to be rave about and that kind of dampened the cheer during the rest of the trip. Qutb Minar, Indira Gandhi, Rajiv Gandhi Memorial were all skimmed through in a blur of phone calls.We traveled by the Metro which was a memorable experience. Finally we returned to our lodgings exhausted and vaguely depressed.
On 10 May, we boarded the train back home. I love coming back home….
From: India
About me: trying to reach a consensus between the perceived me and the REAL (???) me...
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Last Saturday, I had 3 sessions in 2 schools. I had to finish cooking for the day and leave home by 8.20 a.m. DH and the sons helped me in the mad rush. I arrived at the bus station gasping for breath, anxious that I had kept my colleague waiting.
Soon we were on our way to our destination. After 2 sessions in the school with idyllic surroundings, we rushed back home again in two buses. Had a hurried lunch, stuffed the washing machine with laundry, freshened up, and then back again to the next school. No complaints because my colleague was 51 years old and she was as excited as me. After the third session I rushed to my dance class where my teacher's mother lovingly coerced me to have chapatis and delicious sabji.
Reached home at around 8.45 p.m. cooked dinner, had dinner ,Watched Voice of India, Zee little Champs simultaneously… and then retired for the night.
Was it me who had posted this and this once upon a time? Who is having the last laugh? HRH Time? But I’ll laugh along – for now I’m luvvvvvvvvving it…
Soon we were on our way to our destination. After 2 sessions in the school with idyllic surroundings, we rushed back home again in two buses. Had a hurried lunch, stuffed the washing machine with laundry, freshened up, and then back again to the next school. No complaints because my colleague was 51 years old and she was as excited as me. After the third session I rushed to my dance class where my teacher's mother lovingly coerced me to have chapatis and delicious sabji.
Reached home at around 8.45 p.m. cooked dinner, had dinner ,Watched Voice of India, Zee little Champs simultaneously… and then retired for the night.
Was it me who had posted this and this once upon a time? Who is having the last laugh? HRH Time? But I’ll laugh along – for now I’m luvvvvvvvvving it…
From here to there
I was a complete home bird- I stayed indoors most of the time enjoying my own company to the fullest- of course I had the invisible company of all the bloggers whose thoughts I visited and revisited…my mind would be chewing on the thoughts that they penned, I would be traveling on their wave lengths- thoughts from all sides of the globe all the time while being ensconced within the walls of my home. I used to avoid traveling on my own as much as possible.
I first learnt to get around on my own when I enrolled for Dance classes last year. I had to travel by 2 buses to reach my classes. Few months back the journey had to be made in 3 buses- when the roads were under repair, and the third bus was the mini bus and it would ply only when it was jam packed and there was no space to prick a pin even. It would be dark inside the bus and I would be standing on my toes, reaching up to the bar above but there was no fear of falling because there was simply no space. It was impossible to see where we were going because the windows were blocked by people and I would request the person next to me to inform me when I reached my stop and invariably some kind soul would warn me as my stop neared. I would turn in the direction of the exit and kind of nudge myself amidst the thronging undulating bodies and eventually find myself outside the bus on terra firma. After a few moments of deep breaths and unloosening of my frozen limbs, I’d try to judge my precise location and then proceed to my destination.
Now, with my new job, I’ve to travel by the local buses at the drop of a hat. Crowds no longer deter me and though I’ve not begun to swing into moving buses, I do manage to catch one that’s almost ready to start. I can now day dream even while standing precariously clinging to the rod. I enjoy watching the other passengers as unobtrusively as possible. Sometimes the conductors are in a vile mood and sometimes they are quite cordial. The other day, the driver himself was a most gregarious individual and was chatting to anybody who would care to listen. I requested the conductor to let me know when my stop arrived and the driver butted in. He said that I would be easily able to identify my stop because there was construction work going on near by. Soon enough as we neared , the driver asked me if I remembered his instructions and he was pleased to note that I had been listening carefully!
I'm enjoying the oppurtunity to meet new people - both adults and children and am also pleased to notice that age and a few grey hairs can be quite liberating in terms of feeling comfortable and secure. I like watching and observing the events unfolding around me like I were outside the tapestry. Each day is like a new lesson and I feel like an eager student.
I first learnt to get around on my own when I enrolled for Dance classes last year. I had to travel by 2 buses to reach my classes. Few months back the journey had to be made in 3 buses- when the roads were under repair, and the third bus was the mini bus and it would ply only when it was jam packed and there was no space to prick a pin even. It would be dark inside the bus and I would be standing on my toes, reaching up to the bar above but there was no fear of falling because there was simply no space. It was impossible to see where we were going because the windows were blocked by people and I would request the person next to me to inform me when I reached my stop and invariably some kind soul would warn me as my stop neared. I would turn in the direction of the exit and kind of nudge myself amidst the thronging undulating bodies and eventually find myself outside the bus on terra firma. After a few moments of deep breaths and unloosening of my frozen limbs, I’d try to judge my precise location and then proceed to my destination.
Now, with my new job, I’ve to travel by the local buses at the drop of a hat. Crowds no longer deter me and though I’ve not begun to swing into moving buses, I do manage to catch one that’s almost ready to start. I can now day dream even while standing precariously clinging to the rod. I enjoy watching the other passengers as unobtrusively as possible. Sometimes the conductors are in a vile mood and sometimes they are quite cordial. The other day, the driver himself was a most gregarious individual and was chatting to anybody who would care to listen. I requested the conductor to let me know when my stop arrived and the driver butted in. He said that I would be easily able to identify my stop because there was construction work going on near by. Soon enough as we neared , the driver asked me if I remembered his instructions and he was pleased to note that I had been listening carefully!
I'm enjoying the oppurtunity to meet new people - both adults and children and am also pleased to notice that age and a few grey hairs can be quite liberating in terms of feeling comfortable and secure. I like watching and observing the events unfolding around me like I were outside the tapestry. Each day is like a new lesson and I feel like an eager student.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Resurfacing...
I'm feeling a sense of loss, a sense of hopelessness, of having reached a dead end- why? Because I've finished with the book I was reading. This is how I feel every time I finish a book. This time it was Paulo Coelho's "Veronica decides to die". I had been hearing about this book for some time now and was waiting to read it. A dear friend gifted it to me and I pounced on it right away. The feeling of euphoria lingered during every waking moment , and as I neared the end, I wanted to prolong the effect but Alas, its over...
I liked the book, but I liked "Eleven minutes" better.
I've got a job- and I'm enjoying it. But yes, it keeps me very busy with hardly any time for blog hopping.
I've been wanting to mention 'our songs'- a tag that I saw doing the rounds here.
Our songs are:
Dil tadap ke keh raha hai- Madhumati
Tere mer milan ki yeh raina- Abhimaan
Raaga devanum, Naada kanyayum ( Chamayam-Malayalam)
And the gibberish words I used to( I still do sometiems) call my sons:
Shonna vaava, vaava thutti, chanda kutti, chunglani kolomonas, dikkirivaale shodalge, kannaa, chakkara kutti, thulik. ( Plain gibberish)
ammade kannale, mutthalle, paalalle, thenalle, venna alle, sharkara alle, ayyo urumbarikkyum.( momma's sweet meats- gosh- the ants will come crawling...)
And with these words I remerge out of the frozen cocoon yet again...
I liked the book, but I liked "Eleven minutes" better.
I've got a job- and I'm enjoying it. But yes, it keeps me very busy with hardly any time for blog hopping.
I've been wanting to mention 'our songs'- a tag that I saw doing the rounds here.
Our songs are:
Dil tadap ke keh raha hai- Madhumati
Tere mer milan ki yeh raina- Abhimaan
Raaga devanum, Naada kanyayum ( Chamayam-Malayalam)
And the gibberish words I used to( I still do sometiems) call my sons:
Shonna vaava, vaava thutti, chanda kutti, chunglani kolomonas, dikkirivaale shodalge, kannaa, chakkara kutti, thulik. ( Plain gibberish)
ammade kannale, mutthalle, paalalle, thenalle, venna alle, sharkara alle, ayyo urumbarikkyum.( momma's sweet meats- gosh- the ants will come crawling...)
And with these words I remerge out of the frozen cocoon yet again...
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Retracing my steps...
Today, I read this, this and this....
and so was inspired to post the link to one of my older posts:
http://ardramaamsandhyakal.blogspot.com/2006/10/what-blogging-has-come-to-mean-to-me.html
and so was inspired to post the link to one of my older posts:
http://ardramaamsandhyakal.blogspot.com/2006/10/what-blogging-has-come-to-mean-to-me.html
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
To My Teachers With Love
For me, sitting in class listening to my favourite teacher teaching has been a most enjoyable experience while in school/ college. Today, I miss being a student. I envy the students who have the oppurtuntity to go to college daily and be able to listen to such teachers who make the process of learning a most rewarding, memorable experience.
When I remember the teachers who I’ve loved and admired, there’s a vacuum in my heart. I would love to see them again, go upto them and tell them how much they have influenced me.
There are many teachers whom I’ve respected during my learning years for one reason or the other, but I guess I’ve special fondness and gratitude for some of my English teachers: Mrs. Lata Manik, Miss Elizabeth Chacko, Mr. James.
The prospect of sitting in their classes was elating. There was something in them that reached beyond the course curriculum and beckoned to your spirits. The beauty of the subject they taught simply unfurled and encompassed the student. That they loved their subject was obvious, and their excitement and fondness was infectious. I used to look forward to their classes and felt sorry when the bell rung signifying the end of the session for the day. I felt let down when they were absent.
Mrs. Lata Manik ( IndianHigh School Dubai):
She instilled in me a deep fascination for the language. She was a vivacious, sunny person with a smile that cheered you completely. She would insist on us maintaining a vocabulary book where in we had to jot in the meanings of new words each day. She was very affectionate and I cherish the memories of her classes. I’m happy to say she’s just an email away.
Ms. Elizabeth Chacko( Providence Women’s College Calicut):
She loved her subject, her job was her passion and she was adept at infecting us with the same. She wanted to share the thrill of her subject for the sheer joy of it. We felt like we were embarking on a picnic. She talked to us like her equals, most informally without the diffrentiation of a teacher and the taught. It was simply the sharing of a beautiful subject, travelling through the brilliant alleys that we were unfamiliar with . She acknowledged our affection and respect and reciprocated warmly. I long to meet her again some day…
Mr. James: ( St. Joseph’s College- Devagiri- Calicut):
I liked his treatment of the language, his personal insights, his occassional witty remarks. He was a very down to earth, practical person with no lofty attitude. He was a friendly person and was very encouraging. His words of encouragement remain etched in my memory and I remember him with much gratitude.
I also remember my kindergarten teacher- Ms. Rajni (NBWSS- Ghatkopar) , Ms. Hemaji ( PWC- Calicut). The latter was the person who taught us the beautiful poetry “Kanupriya" by Dr. Dharamveer Bharthi.
I want to express my respect, regard and gratitude to ALL the teachers who have taught me, including my Gurus who have taught me Bharathanatyam. I consider myself blessed for their presence and influence in my life.
When I remember the teachers who I’ve loved and admired, there’s a vacuum in my heart. I would love to see them again, go upto them and tell them how much they have influenced me.
There are many teachers whom I’ve respected during my learning years for one reason or the other, but I guess I’ve special fondness and gratitude for some of my English teachers: Mrs. Lata Manik, Miss Elizabeth Chacko, Mr. James.
The prospect of sitting in their classes was elating. There was something in them that reached beyond the course curriculum and beckoned to your spirits. The beauty of the subject they taught simply unfurled and encompassed the student. That they loved their subject was obvious, and their excitement and fondness was infectious. I used to look forward to their classes and felt sorry when the bell rung signifying the end of the session for the day. I felt let down when they were absent.
Mrs. Lata Manik ( IndianHigh School Dubai):
She instilled in me a deep fascination for the language. She was a vivacious, sunny person with a smile that cheered you completely. She would insist on us maintaining a vocabulary book where in we had to jot in the meanings of new words each day. She was very affectionate and I cherish the memories of her classes. I’m happy to say she’s just an email away.
Ms. Elizabeth Chacko( Providence Women’s College Calicut):
She loved her subject, her job was her passion and she was adept at infecting us with the same. She wanted to share the thrill of her subject for the sheer joy of it. We felt like we were embarking on a picnic. She talked to us like her equals, most informally without the diffrentiation of a teacher and the taught. It was simply the sharing of a beautiful subject, travelling through the brilliant alleys that we were unfamiliar with . She acknowledged our affection and respect and reciprocated warmly. I long to meet her again some day…
Mr. James: ( St. Joseph’s College- Devagiri- Calicut):
I liked his treatment of the language, his personal insights, his occassional witty remarks. He was a very down to earth, practical person with no lofty attitude. He was a friendly person and was very encouraging. His words of encouragement remain etched in my memory and I remember him with much gratitude.
I also remember my kindergarten teacher- Ms. Rajni (NBWSS- Ghatkopar) , Ms. Hemaji ( PWC- Calicut). The latter was the person who taught us the beautiful poetry “Kanupriya" by Dr. Dharamveer Bharthi.
I want to express my respect, regard and gratitude to ALL the teachers who have taught me, including my Gurus who have taught me Bharathanatyam. I consider myself blessed for their presence and influence in my life.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Gibberish- speech/writing that is meaningless or difficult to understand
Identity: the fact of being who or what a person or thing is.
Fact: thing that is known to be true.
What is my identity? I’m still trying to figure out. The other day, my friend S from my college days called me, and at some point I realised that S was communicating with me as the person as she remembered me to be 20 years ago. And I had the feeling that ‘that’ person no longer was. But I continued to ‘live’ in her mind frozen in the year 1987!
We got talking about a common friend J and when I heard S’s description about J, I could hardly recognise the J that I thought I knew. So between my perception of J and S’s perception of J, which was the real J?
Sometimes, when I catch random adjectives used to describe me by people I know, I do a double take. Is that me they’re talking about? So among all these ‘perceptions’, there is no ‘me’ left. The different ‘me’s’ have merely an ephemeral existence in the minds of people around me. And so it is for everybody. Each of us relate and communicate with one another according to our personal, subjective perceptions. Each of us view, assimilate and understand the same situation/ person depending on our subjective perception. Sometimes the different perceptions coincide and sometimes they don’t.
Is this what they call ‘Maya’ ?
Then what is the point in getting enmeshed in nonexistent entities and instances?
Anyways, that is enough ramble for now, the Ardra that ‘I’ think I know has finished reading Khaled Hosseini’s – A Thousand Splendid Suns- and I’ve no words to express the gamut of thoughts running amok in me. I really don’t know what to say about this book. I felt rage, frustration, deep sorrow, and yet hopeful…The writing is brilliant and alive.
Fact: thing that is known to be true.
What is my identity? I’m still trying to figure out. The other day, my friend S from my college days called me, and at some point I realised that S was communicating with me as the person as she remembered me to be 20 years ago. And I had the feeling that ‘that’ person no longer was. But I continued to ‘live’ in her mind frozen in the year 1987!
We got talking about a common friend J and when I heard S’s description about J, I could hardly recognise the J that I thought I knew. So between my perception of J and S’s perception of J, which was the real J?
Sometimes, when I catch random adjectives used to describe me by people I know, I do a double take. Is that me they’re talking about? So among all these ‘perceptions’, there is no ‘me’ left. The different ‘me’s’ have merely an ephemeral existence in the minds of people around me. And so it is for everybody. Each of us relate and communicate with one another according to our personal, subjective perceptions. Each of us view, assimilate and understand the same situation/ person depending on our subjective perception. Sometimes the different perceptions coincide and sometimes they don’t.
Is this what they call ‘Maya’ ?
Then what is the point in getting enmeshed in nonexistent entities and instances?
Anyways, that is enough ramble for now, the Ardra that ‘I’ think I know has finished reading Khaled Hosseini’s – A Thousand Splendid Suns- and I’ve no words to express the gamut of thoughts running amok in me. I really don’t know what to say about this book. I felt rage, frustration, deep sorrow, and yet hopeful…The writing is brilliant and alive.
Monday, August 20, 2007
First the switch on my cpu doesn't work- that is sorted out and then the modem conks out- I call the bsnl - bharath sanchar nigam ltd- a lady talks to me like I were mentally retarded becos I keep insisting that I've n't messed up the connections. Anyways, after two days, that also gets righted and life is smooth sailing once again.
My joy at having a mobile library van drive into the premises was incredibly shortlived- first the librarian was not granted permission into our colony after the first 2 -3 weeks of celebration,then we were inforned that he would continue to come to a neighbouring area and me and a friend would very religiously plod our way once a week to get our weekly quota. Soon that too stopped. The librarian was down with a severe case of jaundice- followed by surgery and then bed rest! How can I be blamed if my superstitious nature resurfaces again now?
But then a friend of mine- from PWC days- she is still in calicut- sends me 6 books- though a staff who had come here officially. She also promised me that she would continue to send books to me via this staff, and I could return the same after reading them. It seemed a very delightful proposition. And tho I was very wary abt expressing my delight , joy and exhilaration, fearing the 'evil eye' , I now get to hear that the company here which reqd my friends' official assistance would soon discontinue their allegiance and they would no longer require to come to Trichy!
Anyways, until then for now, I've 6 books to devour- seeing 6 books together got me a trifle delirious- I was in a quandary as to where to start with...I chose Raja Rao's Kanthapura- but was unable to trudge beyond a few pages- found it a bit tedious, confusing with too many details and too many characters. Generally I hate to stop any book midway and I make it a point to finish a book however boring I may find it . This time however the sight of 5 other books was too tempting and so I went on to Paulo Coelho's 'The Zahir"- and I'm enjoying it...
I'm looking fwd to Khaled Hossaeini's 'A thousand Splendid suns' next- have been hearing a lot abt it.
Meanwhile got hold of 'The namesake'- found it very involving while reading it but once I finished with it- I was thinking on the lines- of 'thats it?'
Onam is around the corner. Achhan and amma will be coming to visit us.
My joy at having a mobile library van drive into the premises was incredibly shortlived- first the librarian was not granted permission into our colony after the first 2 -3 weeks of celebration,then we were inforned that he would continue to come to a neighbouring area and me and a friend would very religiously plod our way once a week to get our weekly quota. Soon that too stopped. The librarian was down with a severe case of jaundice- followed by surgery and then bed rest! How can I be blamed if my superstitious nature resurfaces again now?
But then a friend of mine- from PWC days- she is still in calicut- sends me 6 books- though a staff who had come here officially. She also promised me that she would continue to send books to me via this staff, and I could return the same after reading them. It seemed a very delightful proposition. And tho I was very wary abt expressing my delight , joy and exhilaration, fearing the 'evil eye' , I now get to hear that the company here which reqd my friends' official assistance would soon discontinue their allegiance and they would no longer require to come to Trichy!
Anyways, until then for now, I've 6 books to devour- seeing 6 books together got me a trifle delirious- I was in a quandary as to where to start with...I chose Raja Rao's Kanthapura- but was unable to trudge beyond a few pages- found it a bit tedious, confusing with too many details and too many characters. Generally I hate to stop any book midway and I make it a point to finish a book however boring I may find it . This time however the sight of 5 other books was too tempting and so I went on to Paulo Coelho's 'The Zahir"- and I'm enjoying it...
I'm looking fwd to Khaled Hossaeini's 'A thousand Splendid suns' next- have been hearing a lot abt it.
Meanwhile got hold of 'The namesake'- found it very involving while reading it but once I finished with it- I was thinking on the lines- of 'thats it?'
Onam is around the corner. Achhan and amma will be coming to visit us.