Bibliophilia - I

I hope to regularly review the books I’m reading in this blog. Of course, that presupposes that I am actually regularly reading something worth commenting on. The reading habit I had in school, has experienced a prolonged Near Death Experience, and it is still touch-and-go…

Anyway, I’m halfway through around 4 different books right now. Reading multiple books simultaneously is another habit I’ve picked up in the last two-three years. It usually means I don’t finish reading much, and I usually can’t figure out which one to read, so I watch TV instead!

The combination I’m reading is pretty great, however. Ernst Hemmingway, The Sun Also Rises, is supposed to have a “terse” writing style, which has “done much for English prose”. It chronicles the lives of the expat community in Paris, don’t remember the time period. It actually has quite a great effect: for instance, there is this one place where the guy is walking back home fast, eager to go to sleep – he sees someone waving at him, but is too much in a hurry to notice who it is – and then, as he nears his flat, he admires a statute. He reads the inscription, but again, doesn’t bother to remember the exact words. And then, he is speaking of how every room in Paris, probably the world, is furnished the same way…

Then I’m reading The Reluctant Fundamentalist. This applies what I like to call the Indo-Pak style of English writing. It is the sort of roll-in-the-back-of-your-throat, meandering style – it takes you from the gullys of Karachi to the skyscrapers of New York, all in the same amused, almost snobby (but not quite), tone. So while the first book is terse, this book is all about long sentences, and rather gentle comparisons. The comparisons, paradoxes, and all other devices of the English language are stark and in-your-face in the first one.

Lastly, I’m reading Shashi Tharoor, India: From Midnight to Millenium. I had read his The Great Indian Novel before, or atleast attempted to do so. It was fantastically written, but at some level, the analogies he was drawing were escaping me. I knew that such-and-such character resembles a certain person in India’s freedom struggle; I knew that such-and-such situation is supposed to be funny – but I didn’t know why. So I’m trying out this book instead.

I’ve not got very far with this book, but the first page was enough to give me some hope! He speaks of an article he wrote when he was nineteen – he actually reproduces three paragraphs – and criticizes the “love for big words” and “over-developed vocabulary”. Sounds like someone you know?

Dusshera

Saraswati Puja is one of the most symbolic Hindu festivals. Which is saying something, because Hinduism is steeped in symbolism.

The whole process of putting chandanam-kumkum on everything in the house – a pretty thankless task which always gets dumped on me – is like an enumeration of the things which matter to you. For theists, it gives god a clear mandate of what to protect. For atheists, it reminds you of what matters to you.

And then, for one full day, you aren’t supposed to touch your work. Socially, that has always been one of the best ways to ensure the health and adequate resting of labour forces. For example, Sabbath. But this, once-in-a-year hands-off rule is a little different. It is an insidious, sleight-of-hand method of making a new years’ resolution, without having to contend with the party-hangover the next day. It literally gives you the permission to turn a new leaf.

You can tell yourself, I might have flunked every single exam in the past year, or maybe even the past 10 or 15 years; but I pray to God today and I can do something different from tomorrow. The one-day no-work rule lets this idea kind of seep into your brain, and breaks the habit of flunking. It is a scientific fact that this is the best method of breaking a habit.

(The psychologist WILLIAM JONES said “Accumulate all the possible circumstances which shall reinforce the right motives; put yourself assiduously in conditions that encourage the new way; make engagements incompatible with the old; take a public pledge, if the case allows; in short, envelop your resolution with every aid you know.” http://www.des.emory.edu/mfp/tt8.html)

Someone once told me that this is a stupid practice. “Ayudha” in ayudha puja means weapons – conventionally, prayers were limited to weaponry. Not to the fridges and electrical switches, TVs, books, tennis racquets (!)… let alone cars and cycles. But I think this expansive definition is a good thing. It means that we are moving with the times.

Plus, I like the idea that the Pen can now be mightier than the Sword!!!!

The Profound, the profane, and the personal

This is a long overdue post – I planned this around the beginning of this month, but went into recharge-mode (read: hibernation) as soon as I got home. But I’m back now, and all’s well with the world again. Yay.

Basically, this post is about three things I (had, back then) wanted to vent about. Which one is which, profound, profane or personal, is for you to figure out. In fact, its’ probably going to tell you something about your character, your approach to life – I would love to compare your reactions - but I’m too lazy to psychoanalyze them right now, at 3 AM (again!).

This is also a reeely long post. In my defense, it is basically three posts in one.

Firstly, I’m really glad someone (in my opinion, J.S.MILL!!!! But no need to go into my own issues reg. him, for the sake of non-law readers J) once upon a time decided to bestow all of us with rights. Seriously. The idea that there are some things which are out-of-bounds for me, which, no matter how irritating a person gets, and he/she cannot be deprived of these rights. Because, really, I don’t want to have the responsibility of depriving you of your rights, though I’m not too far from actually doing so.

That was probably a little confusing. What I mean to say is, there are times when I am *this close* to losing my patience with people – slapping sense into them, or shaking them up HARD. In other words, if you are going to frisk me in public, and make me turn out my pockets, (if you had not had rights) I would have certainly done serious damage to you.

Of course, this is a logical fallacy, because if they didn’t have rights, then I should have no moral issue with depriving them of the same. But I doubt if I would ever want to carry with me the responsibility of slapping someone. So, I’m glad they have rights, and I have a legitimate reason to not carry through with my instincts. To just sit back, and hope they eventually spontaneously-combust under the weight of their ignorance.

Now, we come to my second point. There are times when people make you feel sooo small, probably when they are itching to deprive you of your rights. (Yes, that does occasionally happen, even to me!) And this resolves the other great debate – Cats v. Dogs.

Why? Because the Dog is the one you would turn to, when you are feeling so small. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been a complete fool, that you’ve loused-up an important meeting/presentation/whatever; its’ still going to lick you and make you feel better. Cats are just not that altruistic. For the mere moral superiority of the actions of the dog, its worth loving and emulating. Therefore, in my book, being called a “dog” is not disparaging at all.

On the other hand, I know for a fact that much of the conventional stereotype o cats as cold and aloof is not fully substantiated in reality. If an animal finds its way up four floors, and selects the one specific room out of 25 on the floor, mews outside till the person opens up, all at 4 AM…that kind of changes forever your perception of that animal.

Nevertheless, if a ferocious mother-cat can scare the daylights out of a cowardly dog, then anything is possible in this world.

Finally, I painted my room!!!! I first painted the door, and laid the pain on waaay too thick. But that was a good thing, because I still have loads of extra paint, and the door now shines like a mirror. It’s a nice red – probably deep pink, but then I’m colour blind. No more gagging-yellow!!!!

Then, I didn’t manage to clean the brush properly, so when I attempted the wardrobe doors (also had been painted in the yellow, so…) the brush was all stiff and pretty nearly useless. No matter. We are a fearless and careless lot. I went right ahead and scooped the paint onto the door, the best I could.

One door now has a nice air-brushed look to it. The other one came out a bit thicker, almost globb-ier. I don’t yet fully know how they’ve turned out, after they’ve dried. But worst case, I’ll paint over it, or take the turpentine to it.