Thursday, November 3, 2011

Peeling the Layers - Meluha

I think no Indian story, especially those on historical/mythological characters, can ever have just one layer. The Immortals of Meluha is no different. A facebook conversation made me expect a fantasy in the Harry Potter category, where I imagined a character like Shiva would be using chants and "magic" to win over enemies.

The book, though, proved that I had been mislead. I had to read it in two days as I had to return the book. But it was not difficult to achieve the task. The book did not "grip" me like some others do. But it flowed easily. The reason I put grip within quotation marks is that in some places... hmmm... it was like that. And, the Sati of Amar Chitra Katha comics kept interrupting my thoughts. Daksha had a goat face in my mind, and somehow, his reaction to Shiva in this book is so diametrically opposite to what I had imagined, again thanks to ACK - that kept intruding too! And is Tarak, another Meluhan, Tarakasur? You know, our half-baked knowledge interfering and logic arguing parallely kind of a thing.

But I loved the way Amish creates an extraordinary character from ordinary events, and vests Shiva with the same dilemmas and doubts that any human being would have. What I loved about the book was, he makes a hero of a man who overcomes those doubts, but is never above them. He is guided from time to time. But for those who are familiar with the Indian thought, the guides will not fog the mind. Instead, the reader will find answers to their own doubts there. Which is why I felt the book was layered - on the one hand, there is the story one reads, that of Shiva, the man with a destiny. But on the other, there is second layer that talks to the reader directly.

In my own fumbling way, I had written a short story earlier called Perspective. What is right for one, may not be right for another. So there are no absolute truths... Kudos for presenting it so neatly. And, considering I am also in a dilemma, caught between  right and wrong, Shiva's dilemma and the realisation that the burden never goes away really made me pause and think. We can only hope to become stronger to bear our burdens. We can only hope to understand the other point of view. We can never be rid of them forever. All we can seek is the strength for it.

Wonder what part II has in store for me.


Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Anubavangal: Yanthiram

Anubavangal: Yanthiram: மனிதன் தன்னைப்போல வேலை செய்ய யந்திரங்கள் உருவாக்கப்போகிறான் என்று சொல்லும் பொழுது, சிட்டி மாதிரி ரோபோவைத்தான் நினைத்துப்பார்க்கிறோம். ஆனால் ...

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Glory

Glorious and radiant
Resplendent and bright
In rode the Sun
Shining with natural light

Dazzling all beholders
With his flashy grin
Burning all who came near
With the heat from within

He crosses in his chariot
Calling people out to witness
His cheer and bounty
Being treated like a deity

The day ends
Plunged in darkness
As the sun leaves
Having proved his greatness

Too less of him
And we ask for more
Too much of him
Never again, no!

The moon enters
In borrowed glory
Sure of herself
Bewitching the weary

The stars follow
Just as bright as the sun
But of their greatness
Who will sing, none?

Tiny and funny
Twinkling and winking
Who thinks that they could blaze
Just as bright as the sun?

Too far away
Too remote and quiet
They are but like extras
Filling up space

And yet some are bigger
Better and brighter
But not in-my-face
Like the sun, my dear.

Friday, October 28, 2011

Lifestyle

"Have you seen today's paper?" Nikita asked Sahana.

"Some discount sale?" Sahana asked eagerly. "I wanted to buy a good handbag. Is there something on?" she asked, stretching her hand for the paper.

Nikita shook her head. "No, I wasn't talking about that. Farmer suicides is on the rise," she said.

"Oh! How sad. Do you think for the purple dress I bought last evening, my maroon slippers will do?"

Nikita looked up and thought. "The red and gold?" Sahana nodded. "Hmmm... Maybe your plain gold will be better."

Sahana got up to examine her collection of footwear. She sat down and exclaimed, "Look I even have these purple slip ons!" They were in brand new condition. "When did I buy these!" she thought aloud in wonder, her heart beating fast at this find.

"Hmmm...?" Nikita asked absent mindedly. "It is pathetic!" she exclaimed. "I wonder if at this rate we will still be an agrarian economy!"

Sahana laughed. "We can become an industrial economy in that case. Anyway they are selling their lands to developers. Which reminds me! There is a property coming up in a village nearby. They are developing it like a resort. Would you like to invest?"

They discussed the rates. It looked very attractive. "But maintenance?"

"They have people. And the local populace, of course! Anyway they won't be farming anymore. So they will come for this," Sahana said easily and examined her shoes under the light. Just a bit of dusting and it was ready to go.

She put the dress against herself and preened. "How does this look?"

Nikita smiled. "Very nice. And it is as if the shoes were made from the same colour!"

"Yes..." Sahana smiled. She told Nikita the story of each of the buys and how much they cost.

"It's worth it," Nikita dutifully replied. The thought struck her - just her party wear for a day would add up to a substantial amount. Nikita looked at the paper and wondered if that amount could have helped one farmer face life with new hope.

How did one go about reaching out to them? Is it money they needed, or something else?

Pensive and uncertain, Nikita begged off the party. "Sleep it off," Sahana advised. "You will feel better when you wake up."

Sahana was right. Resting did help. But when Nikita saw the excess food that would go a waste at the end of it, her stomach churned.

Anubavangal: Thayakkangal

Anubavangal: Thayakkangal: தாய்மை என்றாலே தயக்கங்கள் தான். நாம் எடுத்த முடிவு சரியா? நாம் சொல்லும் அறிவுரை சரியா? நாம் கோவிப்பது சரியா? நாம் விட்டுக்கொடுப்பது சரியா? ...

Thursday, October 27, 2011

True Friend

The King's Mistress by Emma Campion is slow moving, going round in circles though with an interesting historical plot.

In one place, the heroine learns this truth - that others around may provide companionship and be convenient up to a point, but finally, our greatest friend is us.

If I cannot be friends with myself, who else can? If I do not love myself, who else will?

There is a Tamil saying: That a wife walks till the doorstep, the relatives till the street end and the sons till the cremation ground. But no one can accompany us beyond that on our last journey. This is the root of Hindu philosophy, which stresses on detached attachment.

Why then do we crave to "win" friends, to "be seen" with the crowd, to "be pressured by the peer"?

Isn't it a trick of the mind that believes anyone can understand us as well as we can? That we can give others what they seek?

Monday, October 24, 2011

Anubavangal: Vattam

Anubavangal: Vattam: பள்ளிக்கூடம், வீடு. இதுதான் அவள் உலகம். அவள் வயதினர் எல்லாரும் மால், சினிமா என்று செல்வார்கள். இவளையும் ஓரிரண்டுமுறை அழைத்திருக்கிறார்கள். ஆ...
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