Navigating Solutions and Darkness

Photo by  David Rodrigo  on  Unsplash I'm currently awaiting my Burger King order to be home delivered, and reading Americanah . I'd delayed reading the book, not wanting to delve into something heavy. I was also under the impression (because I'm a moron) that the word "Americanah" referred to a stylized version of Americana - the telling of American folk stories. Americanah is, instead, the Nigerian word for "American" - it's used in the book to mockingly refer to Nigerians who become Americanized.  There's a lot to relate to in this book - most astonishing, perhaps, is how men manage to be the same around the world - always failing to come up to mark. Always immature. Always playing games. But in terms of what I relate to the most, it is perhaps the life of someone who has lived across borders, across cultures, who struggles with their identity.  Nine years ago was the beginning of the end. Almost a decade of my life not spent in...

Crossposted from here : Written on October 21, 2015 Title:  Fahrenheit 451 Author:   Ray Bradbury Year of Publication:  1953 Series:  N/A Goodreads Rating (Avg.):  3.95 Goodreads Rating (Mine):  4 “When they give you lined paper, write the other way.”  –  Fahrenheit 451,  Ray Bradbury Some Spoilers are Inevitable Plot Description:  Guy Montag is a fireman, and as everyone knows, the role of firemen is to set fire to houses. And to burn books. The houses that have fire set to them are usually the ones harbouring books. In Bradbury’s dystopic vision of a future, books are banned, and it’s not like any normal, sane person would want to read them anyway. That’s what a futuristic version of television on steroids (and possible crack cocaine) is for – to keep you entertained and happy… and free of questions. Fahrenheit 451  is a much reviewed classic, so I doubt there’s much I can add to the collective discussio...

Photo by  Matt Duncan  on  Unsplash The paths we tread  Are many, my son Tread with care Lest your feet wear out I hold your hand And hold you back Lest you should see What you must not A thousand miles My path takes me A thousand things I laugh to scorn And yet your face Shines in my dreams And all my waking Hours of regret The dirt on my fingers Cannot be washed away By a simple kiss From a You Who Care But I'll bear in mind When I come back for you Just to see you smile And accept my apology Written on August 29, 2010

Photo by  Matt Duncan  on  Unsplash I remember the first time I fell in love with a language. It was fourth grade, and we had to learn a third language in school - after English and Arabic, both of which were compulsory. The options were Hindi, Urdu and French. I didn't know any Hindi or Urdu and my parents really couldn't help me there. The scripts were a little difficult to acclimatize to, and I really wanted to learn French. Urdu was never even really considered an option (I wonder why). The kids who learned Hindi and Urdu actually spoke it as their first language, so I guess that was pretty convenient for them. The teachers for both these languages taught in said language, I would probably have been lost from Day 1, and that would have screwed up my perfect percentages.  I was eager to learn French - I connected to it as much as I failed to connect with Hindi and Urdu. It helped that Mrs. S was glamorous in a way teachers in that school definitely weren...

Photo by  Jimmy Chan  from  Pexels Written on October 2, 2008. Notes in red. You know how the old classic goes... Welcome to the Ho(s)tel California... You can check out any time you want... But you can never  leave!!!! I checked out, baby. I checked out a long time ago. But it doesn't look like I get to leave any time soon. I'm going back today, with no hope for any respite until November. Ahm how the months stretch on.. Days and days of sleeping in class and lying awake at night,  of analysing and cross analysing people's words and actions, and going all paranoid on them --  Does she hate me? What did he mean by that? Why doesn't this one look at me?  Frankly, I'm getting a little sick of myself. If you were to ask just wtf is wrong wit me... I'd tell you I'm a paranoiac suffering from bipolar disorder and mild schizophrenia and mild megalomania. And just in case you didn't know,   bipolar disorder is the same a...

Crossposted from here : Written on October 21, 2015 Title:  Bhimsen Author:  Prem Panicker Year of Publication: Series:  N/A Goodreads Rating (Avg.):  4.12 Goodreads Rating (Mine):  3 Some Spoilers Are Bound To Be Around Plot Description:  A retelling of another retelling of the epic poem Mahabharatha, from the perspective of the second brother – Bhim. Let me start from the top. The Mahabharath is an epic poem, somewhat similar to the  Illiad  or the  Odyssey.  Like with those poems, there have been numerous versions of the Mahabharath, numerous perspectives and retellings, and along the way, new myths and legends are continuously being tacked onto the end of it. Panicker’s story is a loose translation of an older version written in Malayalam by M.T. Vasudevan Nair called  Randamoozham (Second Chance ). What Panicker and Nair both attempt is to engage with the myths and legends that surround the stories about the Mahab...

My horse jumps Yet another stile Hooves spraying surf Right into my dreams Tonight So much outside Doesn't seem to touch Me/ though I watch This and a million other  Movies in dream-time Places I knew Just months ago Have lived on Behind my eyes A world or two Captured in memory Growing now Of their own accord I watch the sleep Of a million others And wonder where My pen doth stray My world revolves Despite the line And yet I know I can't leave The Past alone Written on August 29, 2010