Perspective is the river that takes you from indifference to empathy. If you have never seen a sea, and have always been living beside a river, you will perhaps not believe if I told you that I have come from the sea. The only way to know is to trace the river and see its culmination into a sea. Life’s journey is perhaps that tracing of the river that gives us perspective as we grow. Not all of the perspectives we need or seek come at the same time and not a single day goes without gaining a perspective about something. There is a high probability that we might remain blinded to them but speaking from personal experience, you will find them if you remove your blinders. Continue reading “Library of Perspectives”
A hearty conversation on a half drowsy morning with the people we love is like designing one’s own sweetest dream and I have been doing that ever since I arrived here. This is precisely the best part of my day and the best way I can begin my day. So as much as I love the nights, I look forward to the mornings now. Continue reading Sleepless in Brighton
ज़िन्दगी है, ज़िन्दगी में मुलाकातें भी होती रहतीं हैं। मुलाकातें होतीं हैं तो बातें भी चल पड़तीं हैं। हम हिन्दुस्तानी राय रखने में ऐसे भी बड़े आगे हैं। राजनीति, क्रिकेट, मज़हब, चलचित्र- आप बस मुद्दा उठाइये और चार पाँच विशेषज्ञ तो आपको राह चलते मिल जाएंगे। पान थूकते, तम्बाकू चुनाते, ताश खेलते विशेषज्ञ से शायद पाठक का भी पाला पड़ा ही होगा। तेंदुलकर को किस बॉल पर क्या मारना चाहिए, ये मेरे कॉलोनी के गार्ड से बेहतर शायद ब्रैडमैन को भी ना मालूम हो। Continue reading “पिलपिलाते हुए आम लोग।”
And suddenly I have nothing to write about. A long night at work – I wanted to write about it – how tiring and hopeless situations you grow into at around 2.30 am in the morning typing in some code that you are no longer sure of. I wanted to write about that. I wanted to take a shot at poetry – dead of a night – smoky chilled air – rains – thunderstorms – trees wavering like tresses of the love I deserved – I might have jotted down the perfect poem for the moment. I wanted to write about my struggles. I would have liked to finish my debut novel in a one night’s shot. I wanted to write a tale – a disarming one or maybe even a spooky one that would leave me in despair by the end of it – perfect setting of a night and an under-construction would-be corporate building – cranes, dump-trucks, excavators all lying dead like there never was any life in them. I wanted to make new metaphors and similes- like a bulldozer’s night sleep or lie like a windowpane! Continue reading “Nothing to write about!”
I was put in charge of hospitality committee and while preparing, since filtered water was available only in the teacher’s common room, had to drink untreated water many a times. This had distorted the texture and pitch of my voice temporarily. I love my voice, both literally and idiomatically. So it was a major setback. The croaky voice was intelligible only to me. Two days after the event was over, I was going to my classroom via the library corridor. She was walking towards the library and I was walking towards her. She waved her hand and helloed. I mumbled something that I don’t remember now. She asked me if I had drunk raw water from the supply taps. I had a silly smile on my face while nodding affirmatively. She smiled. That was magic, a surreal encounter of charm and power of beauty.
The world that a child walks into is ripe with parents,teachers, and relatives who are ever ready to impart their share of knowledge. This world is ever so full with innumerable guides, inexhaustible chicken-soups, volumes of encyclopedia, armies of life-coaches. In simple terms, we should have turned out into a perfect world, a super-harmonious civilization by now. After all when we consider the abundance of knowledge through our history and present as a planet, the awe just grows deeper and deeper.
So the questions that arise are Continue reading “Year End Read – Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse”
“That red one – is the Muslim, and that black one – is the Hindu!” – Thus announced the uncrowned leader of the group.
Daniel retorted – “How do you say that?”
Continue reading “Mirza”
There are fictions that give you a rush, a shot of thrill or an expectation of something unimaginable, and you go back to the book whenever you can cast yourself away from the world. You keep looking for that window of time to get immersed and continue your breathtaking journey, then there comes your way – ‘The Romantics‘ which draws you to itself when you want no such rush, no such thrill and you look to withdraw within yourself. The Romantics is a story that develops as a slow, indifferent painting on the chaotic canvas of the world.
Continue reading “The Romantics | A Novel | Pankaj Mishra”