All those moments in life that leave an impression, leave you in deep thought,and contemplation.
Find book reviews for reading that feeds the soul. Personal experiences, travel stories- for spirituality is a daily pursuit. Movie and art, as what works better therapy than these.
Sharing my inspirations, write-ups and artsy creations.
Book and film reviews and random abstruse musings.
When I first held the book ‘Chokher Bali’ I had no idea that knowing you would be such a task. Getting to know you was like deconstructing layers of a rose; I liked you, empathized with you, loved you, hated you, sympathized with you, was jealous of you, and yet finally missed you. I would say, I didn’t judge you, even when you were your worst possible version in the situation. I just read on and on, to find the reason.
‘Chokher Bali’ was the first full-fledged novel by Rabindranath Tagore that I read. My first impression of you was- shrewd, intellectual, well-read, and someone who has a way with words. Kind, gentle, caring at heart with an eye to detail. It was sad that you were a widow; someone who didn’t have much of a married life; someone who didn’t know how destructive and fatal amorous desires could be. And I pitied you when your repressed desire for love and romantic pleasures were brought back by witnessing the rendezvous of the newly married couple. It opened a pathway of doom and disaster not only for them but for you as well. You left so many lives in havoc in your wake to seek your own happiness, satisfaction, and revenge for the injustice life had done with you. Jealousy and seeking that which is not yours brings no good, it just creates barriers and rifts. I was sad, angry and disappointed with you for the path you chose. I wanted to stop you so badly. I wish you had known what it would all lead to finally.
Ashalata was so naïve and simple. Innocent to a fault. She couldn’t even distinguish pranks and censure, and what is real from what is a façade. She loved and adored you dearly, you had become an intimate part and parcel of her life. But you were unnerved by her unintelligence and naivety, her lack of intellect and her childish nature. Had you known how pure she was at heart! Had you known how much she treasured you! You lost such a true friendship. I know that you experienced murderous rage at her retellings of the passionate moments spend with her husband, Mahendra. You were filled with hatred and a mood for vengeance for the injustice. You felt neglected, not cared for, and taken for granted while Asha was crowned the queen of their lives. You were determined to take away everything that came in your way of seeking what you thought you deserved or you presumed was rightfully yours. I was not willing to continue reading at this point. I didn’t want such turn of events to happen. I didn’t want you to suffer for your own actions.
I confess I loved your words in the letters to Mahendra through his wife Ashalata’s pen, though they were not yours to write. There is a seductive power in good vocabulary, a reeling effect in word steeped with emotions and unexpected elation in the expression of passionate rage. And you must have known Mahendra’s exact thoughts on reading those-“Was there a hint in the letter of an ardour- veiled yet implied, forbidden yet intimate, noxious yet delicious, offended but unrequited?” But this was the start of all the chaos and hurt. Only had you chosen Bihari instead!
Bihari was such an ideal guy to root for- well disposed, but pitiable too- whatever was rightfully his, he had to give away to Mahendra, every single time, out of respect for Kakima who pleaded with him to do so. Sacrifice was his second name. Guilt and remorse his personality. But he’s idealistic to a fault- one with restraint and reserve who did not heed the misgivings of the heart to uphold respect and decorum. He’s miles away from any scandal or scorn. I so wished, dearest Binodini, that you could find happiness with him. I so wish that the misunderstandings hadn’t resulted in such turn of events.
I found solace in the way your story ended in the book- acceptance and normalcy at last. Will revisit you some day.
Empress Ki is the most elaborate, gripping, and thrilling series I have watched this year. And at 51 episodes, it is the longest Korean drama series I have ever watched. Even though the number seems daunting and too much, it’s worth it all. If you like period dramas, you won’t want to give this one a miss.
It was in 2016 that I first read about Empress Ki, the historical drama that had garnered much praise and accolades from the audience and critics alike. Most Korean dramas are just 16 or 20 episodes long. So 51 seemed never-ending to me then. It wasn’t until 2017 that I decided to at least try the first episode. And I was hooked. But owing to the various circumstances I didn’t continue watching it. It was just last month that I remembered this epic story and watched it to completion within just a few days. Believe it or not, midway through it, I was almost literally pulling my hair out, in anticipation of what would happen next.
I would have given this magnum opus 10/10 had it stopp…
I have always been the one to leave first. Be it luck or circumstance, it has always been this way. Some of the times it has been my decision to venture out of my comfort zone first before all my peers decide to do the same and I am left behind, alone in the old world. The decisions are out of fear of being left alone, most of the times. Or is it self-preservation instead?
I am a person who takes time to adapt, make new friends, get accustomed to new surroundings- an unlikely one to leave first- yet I do. You might think me selfish, but I am just afraid, and I decide to take care of myself first. Some might see this as a major risk-taking attitude, but I mostly see it as fleeing before the 'desertion' hits me instead. Now that's a strong word indeed. I am always in search of safe ground, always so insecure and calculating my moves lest I end up being alone on the island.
Paranoiac. Several things bother me at once. What if my peers get on with their lives leaving me behi…
"When the ego dies, the soul awakes." - Mahatma Gandhi
Why do you have such a huge ego? You cannot wear your family's name on your sleeve as an identity forever. The world wouldn't see you through the eyes of your parents who have pampered you so much for the better part of your life. Here in the real world, you will get what you give. Respect begets respect. Selfishness begets selfishness. Hate begets hate. And your 'i don't care', 'i don't give a damn', 'i am paying money for that', 'i will do as I please' attitude will give you the same.
Respect is earned. Agreed. But you should give it first to earn it back. The other person should and must be respected by default despite his class, caste, job and family background, until and unless he proves unworthy of it with time. I stand strongly by this belief.
There can be no excuse for disregard. The way you speak to me about people tells me the way you might be speaking about me t…
One Friday evening, as I was feeling a bit lonely and homesick with nothing much to do, not even strolling on the terrace viewing the ever so beautiful mountains since it was raining hard- thus it also contributing to my gloomy mood, I decided to watch Before Sunrise. Yes, once again. A first for me. I rarely re-watch a movie. Yearning for a light-hearted yet meaningful conversation this was the best choice I had. My hostel mates were out in the city and all the people I called up were busy. Luck by chance. Thanks to the superb uninterrupted internet connection I had a great 1 hour 40 minutes that evening.
"Experiencing the otherworldly. When morning comes, we would all turn into pumpkins."
Even though it sounds like a cliche today, unplanned trips, adventures in life, serendipity and providence are romantic. Before Sunrise has all of these, when strangers indulge in light conversations, grow intrigued about each other's lives, and spend time in each other's company …
It is human nature to dwell in the past, worry about the future
and forget all about the present. I still miss the days spent in Hyderabad. I
miss the study schedules, eating out, street shopping, and the city tours. I
miss the roads, the townships and the metros. But I clearly remember that I
just wanted the days to pass quickly so that I could return home, while I was
there. And today I miss the view from the terrace of the ladies hostel we
stayed in, the floral decorations with chalk, colors and flowers, the flower
market, the abundance of curd during lunch hours, the constant ‘amma’ recitals
by our wardens and so much more.
One of the highlights of the hostel life in Hyderabad at Sri
Kamali was queuing up for tea, puri and dosa during breakfast time, and then
hurrying to secure a chair the very next moment. And conversations and
complaints flowed unhindered during these hours in many languages at once- the
most prominent ones being Telugu, Kannada, Malayalam, Marathi and English.…
July has been a special month for me. Not just because it is my birthday month, but because many new beginnings, many fresh starts, and many turning points of my life have happened in July. It's mid of the year when I have looked back at what the year was like for the first six months and have anticipated and dreamt about the coming six months. Goals and resolutions are reviewed in July.
These initial days of college are all about fun, making interactions, creating friendships and increasing your network. It's less on course works and assignments. So we are trying to take full advantage of it. I have made a few friends at the hostel too, most of them are my juniors, with a huge age gap. But the good news is none of us can feel this gap. We visited the Forest Research Institute this weekend. It was a good trip. I stopped at almost every tree to take a snap and posed at every corner of the museum clicking selfies. Too much beauty in a single place. Beauty overloaded. The view of t…
“One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.” ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship
I always find myself dwelling in the past. Always. May be
because the past is safe- it’s already set in stone never to be changed-
there’s no unpredictability attached to it. I miss the city I left behind. Day
in and day out. It’s never out of my thoughts. And in such a mood, I picked up
a novel called ‘The Nine-Chambered
Heart’ and journeyed with the central character to the city with the river,
the city without a river, the town in the east of the country, the mountain and
the sea beach. It’s in this book that I
learnt the belief about ‘A thousand paper cranes’ in Origami.
Origami is the Japanese
art of paper folding. It is a traditional art form about 1000 years old. It
is a creative folk art that has spread worldwide for its simplicity. It needs
no cutting, gluing …