Last three days have been bizarrely wholesome. It’s a miracle when an ordinary day brings about voluminous learnings. I won’t go into the particulars. Hence this spittle of a good tiding comes to an end almost as soon as it started.
I finished The Kite Runner at last. “For you, a thousand times over” is one of the most gripping lines I have ever come across in my entire 19 years of life. Now I’m hankering over its movie, which I have been told is visually beautiful. I read A Thousand Splendid Suns by the same author, Khaled Hosseini, a few years ago. Since no internet access is available currently I can’t help wondering about his other works – that’s if he has written any. The Divine Comedy will have to wait again since digital books can’t be read with the same investment of time and deliberation as handheld books. The former also brings about a lack of absorption and certain taciturnity between the reader and the story.
Earlier today I started on For One More Day by Mitch Albom; 200 pages and 4 hours later I can establish the reasons it was given to me – and why it was recommended to be read first. Its drab ordinariness and excruciating familiarity makes the story so riveting. I quote an instance from the story:
“I waved goodbye with the letter. It didn’t occur to her, I guess, that I was just starting school and didn’t know how to read. That was my mother. It was the thought that counted”
Reading has absolved me of mulishness particularly towards my downbeat attitude that had annexed me over last couple of months.
The sky is saturated with clouds and rain is pouring maddeningly with no signs of stopping. Although earlier in the evening there was an anemic ray of a waning sun pouring onto the neighbor’s wall in front of my room. Perhaps it was just a reflection of the dwindling horizon. And in all likelihood, I’m humoring myself with what others call “truck songs.” 😀 Some rituals just can’t be renounced.
They lay sideways. Her legs atop his, arms thrown over him, palms clutching his chest tenderly. She rested her head on his back. Silence. His warm skin glowed heat onto hers. “A desert man,” she thought. Her weight fell on her lower arm, almost numbing it. She solemnly squeezed it out, carefully shifting her head to the side. Her ear pegged on level with his back in proximity. Sound. She had heard something – thud, thud, thud. It beat in all rapidity. Slowly she clenched on his chest. The supple chest hair grazing gently against his shirt. It thumped against her hand. “Where is his heart?” she questioned herself in her thoughts. She pressed her ear against his back. It wavered euphoniously flooding the silence with every pound. She was bemused, puzzled. The moment was mystifying. She wondered where God had placed his heart, marveled at this enigma and speculated on the possibilities. It kept throbbing at the gist – an oeuvre of rhythms. His chest heaved in and out almost metrically. She felt a strange affinity with his novel pulsations.
A sloppy day at the college, whisked with comical incidents was pretty much the highlight for today. The morning was a drag with particulars of kidney related pain. Else then that, it was an agreeable day. I came to terms with the obligation of studies, which I had indefinitely forgotten – on purpose. Since my admission has gone (phew that!), there is no point worrying for anything except the finals. Mechanically, that sort of nerve-racking state still hasn’t dawned upon me. Maybe I am gearing for good.
I wonder why the womankind is insubstantial at such a critical age and era. Waiting for my van near the college gate, two girls caught my attention with their nauseating conversation. Later it stirred up to someone’s love affair and they endlessly discussed some facebook related breakup. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop (one can’t help overhearing loud women), but this mindless chatter of theirs was just amusing. I confess. Secretly, did I snigger at their naiveté. How their eager little brains discoursed on what to wear on the funfair with all seriousness, how they giggled upon seeing a man at the gate – any man.
Whilst coming back home in a van that was jam-packed with little kids, I was in an awe; what varying degrees of human behavior vested in such small a place. This one kid would hog up all the space with his tiny existence and a comparably ginormous bag, lay his arms around and practically lie down on it, completely unmindful to others distress. Another one would pester the driver to change the cassette sides and play her favorite song so she could sing along – and twirl herself in the little space her legs could find, blushing cheekily every now and then. My own existence seemed far too serrated to be in the same league as theirs.
Interestingly, I found out last night that the owner of Virgin enterprise was a high-school dropout too. I say “too”, since I practically quit my A-Levels half way through as well. Hence, I am up to something momentous. I’m not sure what it would be. Now let me savor my glory. Let me bask in the greatness that yet has to register on me. 😀 Ignore this entry if nothing happens in the next 5 years.
I have decided to start on “The Kite Runner” by Khaled Hosseini, and put “The Divine Comedy” on hold for meantime. The latter can wait. It has to. It has no other choice anyways. This entry is crammed with silly delight – aftermath of a pleasant day.
Watched Dhobi Ghat last night. Never has a cinematic experience (especially an Indian one), been more phenomenal. It was the first ever movie that reached the gist of my heart, not by the mere story bound by a script but also by its nonpareil simplicity, concrete reality, visually aesthetic composition, unreciprocated questions and innumerable other factors that cannot be molded into words. It’s a blessing that I have finally started watching movies with an unbounded eye. The grandeur doesn’t exhaust, brilliance doesn’t sap through voids. Moreover, new ideas are welcomed and acknowledged – hence refurbishing my mind and reinforcing it with newfangled conceptions
Later, I feasted upon desi food: Chicken Karahi and Sajji at a local roadhouse! My appetite has never been more celebrated. Juicy tendons soaked in gravy, torn apart thread to thread by the gnawing teeth, letting the flavors diffuse into my mouth. Chewed and swallowed boldly. Digested stoutly. 😀 I was a staunch devourer for an hour or so. Eating like a visceral animal is the new me.
I have opted for indifference towards some people in my life now. Since every engagement only serves to increase my abhorrence for them, I have earnestly withdrawn myself completely. I have been told to exercise this institution without any spite. But this is where it gets challenging. To meditate good intentions whilst harboring forced complacency is a little tricky. Hence the same question crops: Does it Matter?
Also, I started on Dante Alighieri’s epic masterpiece, The Divine Comedy. The work is allegorical narrative, about his illusory journey through Hell, Purgatory and Heaven. The mystical representation of philosophical thoughts is magnificent. Originally written in Italian, the version I’m reading is translated by H.F Cary in English. Lets see how this windups. Although, now I am inclined towards learning Italian so I could read its original manuscript in the authentic words it was written in – and probably meant to be better understood in too. This excerpt is from Canto II:
“Who thy near way across the goodly mount
Prevented. What is this comes o’er thee then?
Why, why dost thou hang back? why in thy breast
Harbour vile fear? why hast not courage there
And noble daring?”
Another entry ends in a snap.