Oh that pleasure,
hidden from those prying eyes.
PS: Ashamed only to be doing it till now 😉
Oh that pleasure,
hidden from those prying eyes.
PS: Ashamed only to be doing it till now 😉
Of course, I am not insane, right!! How can I be any kind of addict except a book addict 😉
I promise, just one more 😀
Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves!
Well, truly so!
True! True! True….
I chose to remain mum 😉
I sure do! (Sigh)
Hahaha, this is absolutely me and I am still not satisfied 😀
Honest to God, I need this kind of support!!!
And may be, coffee?
Probably the only reason, why I don’t do good in relationships 😀
Seriously, clear your mind people!!!
Haha, this is true too!
Totally true! Period..
Well, this is true too.
Hope you had a good laugh, if not, well I am sorry! It’s books we are talking about, so it is important to me and me alone.
Books are and will be a big part of my life.
They have been with me when no one else was.
They have been through me, and been through a lot with me.
When nothing works, a book, empty or otherwise, always comes to my rescue.
So here’s to all the readers and writers, who have a very intelligent and safe addiction of fantasy, having an escape form reality!
Hope you had a fun time with my book shenanigans.
Have a great day!
Do share your thoughts on this one.
Do you agree that writers are worth something?
Or do you stand with the others believing that writers are a confirmed, forbearing and a resigned set?
The last time I was here I told you that I was reading Indian literature, and in that somewhere I lost track of what exactly I needed to read and what I wanted to read. You know there is really a very thin line between these two and I seemed to have crossed that route. So somehow I started with Sarojini Naidu, Aurobindo Ghosh, Henry Derozio, and eventually I landed up on my most favourite, (honestly just for the sake of reading her, I mean if it’s literature and I cannot and will not finfish without reading her) to Kamala Das. And of course I started with my most loved piece of hers which is An introduction. From there it went on to her other works including The Sunshine Cat, Summer in Calcutta, In Love, my Grandmothers House, the Stone Age and so on. My first thought was to share An Introduction here with you guys but then I remembered I had already done it, not once but more than twice, and I know not all of you are obsessed with her. So then I decided that it’s time I share something more and beyond that one poem. Which brings me to this poem.
I hope you love this piece as much as I love her.
You planned to tame a swallow, to hold her
In the long summer of your love so that she would forget
Not the raw seasons alone, and the homes left behind, but
Also her nature, the urge to fly, and the endless
Pathways of the sky. It was not to gather knowledge
Of yet another man that I came to you but to learn
What I was, and by learning, to learn to grow, but every
Lesson you gave was about yourself. You were pleased
With my body’s response, its weather, its usual shallow
Convulsions. You dribbled spittle into my mouth, you poured
Yourself into every nook and cranny, you embalmed
My poor lust with your bitter-sweet juices. You called me wife,
I was taught to break saccharine into your tea and
To offer at the right moment the vitamins. Cowering
Beneath your monstrous ego I ate the magic loaf and
Became a dwarf. I lost my will and reason, to all your
Questions I mumbled incoherent replies. The summer
Begins to pall. I remember the rudder breezes
Of the fall and the smoke from the burning leaves. Your room is
Always lit by artificial lights, your windows always
Shut. Even the air-conditioner helps so little,
All pervasive is the male scent of your breath. The cut flowers
In the vases have begun to smell of human sweat. There is
No more singing, no more dance, my mind is an old
Playhouse with all its lights put out. The strong man’s technique is
Always the same, he serves his love in lethal doses,
For, love is Narcissus at the water’s edge, haunted
By its own lonely face, and yet it must seek at last
An end, a pure, total freedom, it must will the mirrors
To shatter and the kind night to erase the water.
PS: The featured image is chosen intentionally with the review!
Writers and readers are hopelessly romantic. They live in a fictional world, and tend to be unacceptable to the real world. They immerse themselves so much in a world, which does not exist that they deviate and forget that they live in a world, which does exist. They seek pleasure in something, which is unreal, and shirk their responsibilities towards reality. They live in denial; they live with indifference. They do not live in actuality. Myth engulfs them so strongly that pragmatism and logic become their adversaries. These writers and readers do not know how the real world works.”
This, my friend, is an allegation on me today. But what can I say to this?
May be I am irrational. May be I don’t think practically. May be I shed off my responsibilities, may be I do live in too many worlds at a point of time. May be I am hopelessly romantic. May be I do live in denial. May be I live in a fictional world, and may be I really do not know how this “real world” works?
But does anyone actually know the difference?
All I got to say about this is,
“I have lived a thousand lives and I have lived a thousand loves. I’ve walked on distant worlds and seen the end of time. Because I read.” –George R. R. Martin.
Yes, I read and I write and most of the times I immerse myself so much in these two things that I forget the real from unreal. I can barely make what was true and what was a dream. I forget the real world in the process of making a beautiful world for myself where I can live. And many a times I don’t want to come back from there, well, most of the times. And what’s more? I can’t. I can’t just do that. I have to come back.
So is that not enough? Is it not enough that I have to come back, and I do come back into the so-called real world and try to live in it.
Is it not enough that I live a life, which I don’t want to?
I cannot say that I am at a lot of disposal of time these days to have a current reading list, but after my recent circus show in my life, I desperately needed an escape. A real escape. And so I have been drowning myself in books.
Before, I would pick up a book and read it front and back, till I was satisfied with it, and only then would I have gone on to the next book. But off late, my concentration capacity has been so belittled that even when it comes to books, I have started shifting from one to another. And I don’t even know if it’s helping me. But as of now I have picked up a set of books and am reading them in bits and parts, and so far so good! The only problem is I am taking longer than usual to complete each book. The result of which is, my mind is getting more curious by the day, I get anxious, and wonder what exactly is wrong with me that I am taking so long to complete a book!!
I know, and I agree with my over-reactions. But all the same, I am enjoying for the time being, to have a big set of books to go back to everyday.
The list incorporate:
And if this was not enough, I am reading this again.
I don’t know what I am trying to do, live the good old childhood days or am I simply trying to believe in something called magic? But I am reading this for the second time this month, and I am not even ashamed of it.
And if all of this was not enough, I ordered another book for myself, despite the unread books that I have, including the huge set that I was gifted on my birthday. Well, in my defence I was ordering two books for my exams, and somehow I thought books just for exams doesn’t seem exactly apt, right? So I should order at least one good book to read too. And that’s how this little one reached me:
So, yeah, that’s it. This is my current reading list.
Not that I am free of work or my exams and assignments, but I am just reading them all the same.
Have you read any of these?
Any thoughts on them, or to say on my recent obsession for reading more than I can manage on a work day?
If not, then Happy Reading 😀
My baby completes two years.
What I mean is, this blog. My blog complete two years today. And I am thrilled. Super thrilled.
When I started this blog, I had never thought, that this would amount to something. But today, I do feel that it is something. Well, so I think.
I did have my doubts, because this was my third attempt at blogging, and yet I had no clue what I was doing with it. I guess, I still don’t know what I am exactly doing with my blog, but I think, I am doing something, if not everything that I wanted.
But this feels, so, so good right now. Not because I simply have a blog, but because I have a blog through which I try and share my random thoughts, which helps me in delivering my misgivings, a blog which helps me when no one else does. This blogging community gives me so much pleasure, everyday. And, most of all you guys, everyone of you, give me so much pleasure, that I cannot begin to thank you. You people have always been here with me, and a big THANK YOU for this. For being with me, for trying to understand this deranged mind, for bearing my ever not-so-tranquil thoughts, and for trying to put sense into me sometimes, for trying to show me the right path.
I am really happy today, so happy that it cannot be measured.
However, I do intend to keep moving on this very path, for how long I know not, but this is the plan; for now!!
Once again, thank you to all of you for just being there, and accompanying me in this journey. Without you, this wouldn’t even be a journey.
PS: This is how I celebrated last year:- A year passed by!