Of some ‘untold’ things ..

Can anyone in this world forget our adolescent time: the time when we force ourselves to  loose the child-innocence and start acting like big people, the time when we are embarrassed when our  mamma calls us baby in front of our friends, the time when we get conscious about how we look eternally, the time when we appreciate nature’s gift such as rains ,sceneries’, the time when we believe in those fairy-tale stories and trust that those are for real and imagine ourselves to be the protagonists and wait for our prince charming or our lady love. It’s the time when we first experience that moment of our life, the moment when we realize that there are swarm of butterflies that flutters in us as we see that person .
 I’d experienced this fluttering for the first time while I was in grade eight when I saw this boy, let’s call him A , who fitted right into the expression ‘tall, dark and handsome’. He was not that kind of a major “head-turner”,neither do I, but yet there was this unexplained vibe(oh yeah, yeah, that Indian movies effect as u are already thinking) whenever I saw him. I sort of found him little funnily weird as he had a little larger ears which didn’t sync that well with his other wise usual round small face. He was on the other section and  I met him during one of those art classes where in both the sections were combined. I met him eye to eye when I’d accidentally stumbled upon his book and wanted to return it to him. I couldn’t resist myself in staring at him for quite sometime while I felt there were those people playing violins besides me( yep,from that same movie :)), and came back to my senses, when he’d called my name a little louder. I did a little background check got to know some of his details like his family, friends , interests and so from some of our common friends. From then on , I made sure that I didn’t dare to bunk the otherwise boring classes and also tried very hardly to make myself omnipresent. I spent days thinking about him and grabbed every opportunity to go in and come out of his class, sometime genuine and many a times feigned. For my friends I came as a surprise shocker as the friend whom they saw as a very shy, timid and not-so-interesting girl doing some crazy things and finally became their “laughing stock” for all their presumably ‘funny’ jokes. But nothing tugged me down and I was acting even more crazier just so I could get back at them. I tried all possible way to impress him but the introvert that I  am and also by some fear of rejection, the boy obviously had no clue about it. This little crush of mine came to a logical end when his family moved out of town half way thro’ the year for some reasons which I apparently came to know thro’ some of our common friends. Though it hit very hard at that moment, somehow it did not make that profound impact that I thought it would. Just as the popular adage goes, time became the perfect healer and his memories and thoughts blurred and today, I don’t even have a clue of what & where he is now. It was more like a passing clouds that poured down heavily and evanesce off in the sky without perturbing the flow of life. After this , apparently there were couple of others that just didn’t even last for few days , but all of which were untold before I really understood what the real ‘love’ meant. Though it’s funny now, but if I  could just sit back and get a little introspective about it I cannot help but to think on the ignorance I’d at that point of time in thinking that ‘this was it’  and go little over board without even realizing on what and how relationships works. As time and age progressed my ideas on relationships bettered and today am surely in the best place I could have ever imagined with the love of my life with dearth of any repent.

PS : I’d written this for blogadda’s contest, but understably am late by two days ,nevertheless thought of posting. Thanks for blogadda for making me to reminisce my good old days.

Of more books…

Three Cups of Tea By Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin :

I chanced upon this book while I was reading this . The writer had so eloquently written about the book that it instigated me instantaneously to pick the book my self. Do I repent or what , if anything, am grateful for the blogger to have introduced me to this wonderful experience. The popular adage “failures are the stepping stones of success” proved true literally to this man. What could have been a personal accomplishment turned out to be a accomplishment for the society. The book is about Mr. Greg Mortenson ,an American mountaineer who reaches the village of Korphe in Pakistan accidentally ,which changes the history for good on a failed expedition ,who was on his way to  reach the peak of K2. Greg is moved by warmth of the locals and instantaneously reciprocates the love and affection. He further learns about the plight of the schools and understands their needs. He was  appalled when he learns that the nearest hospital for them was somewhere two-day drive. He goes back to his country promising the people that he would soon return to change this scenario. This was/ is the turning point for both Mr. Greg and also for the village. From then on there was no looking back for Mr. Greg who by now have built hundreds of schools in the most vulnerable areas of Pakistan and Afghanistan. He achieves his mission by building one school at a time and is a strong believer of girl’s education which he believes will eradicate the ignorance of the society. The book also shares some interesting perspective of the so-called “conservative Islamists “ as the truth is somewhere far from what is been perceived by the mass by and large. The perfect example of such is HajI Ali who was the “Nurmadhar” or the chief of Korphe. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration if it’s said that HajI ali was the mentor for Greg, for it was he who taught him on how to deal with things that was alien to him. It was pleasant to read how Greg adopted and adapted  the local practices which even includes the dress code of the inhabitants. It was a revelation when we come to know that Greg also learnt their language Bali to become one among them. It was definitely not a cake walk for Greg to attain this “heights”. There were number of instances which if not for him any one else would have given up this spectacular mission. The chilling kidnap of Greg in the remote place of Waziristan, Pakistan where he was abducted for eight days and finally seen off with the contributions from them for his mission is just one among those myriad instances. There were also number of ‘fatwas’ issued by various muslim organizations to stop Greg or rather “infidel” to work in the muslim dominated area. But each time, Greg bounced back with more power to serve the people. There’s a wide belief that good people would be surrounded by equally good people and this belief seems to be true, right from HajI Ali to his personal guard Faisal Baig who vowed himself that he wouldn’t leave Greg anywhere alone in the vicinity of Pakistan since the episode of that abduction to many to name a few. This unique traits of Greg has been bequeathed by his parents who were no less than Greg’s mission. Greg’s parents were responsible for building schools and hospital in the much neglected area of Tanzania  and also established Kilimanjaro Christian Medical center. The book also shares the experience of this American who was in an extremely remote village of Pakistan opening schools along with his colleague from Central Asia Institute during on the world’s biggest disaster of the twin-tower blast happening in his country And by now if there’s an impression that Greg is this “perfect” man has been created in the minds, then the answer would be a big NO. Greg has his own limitations like how the co-author David Oliver Relin points how Greg was unpunctual, like wise, there are also number of instances which describes about Greg’s insomnia and many like these. But one cannot deny that all these looked trivial before his big mission. The book was definitely a page turner and it was more gratifying and humbling experience to know and read about people like him. Greg has also come up with his second book “stones into schools “ which elucidates his experience in Afghanistan. We can also read Greg’s interview from here.

The Museum of Innocence by Orhan Pamuk :

This was one book which was on my wish list for quite sometime after reading raving reviews. The book was worth all the wait. It’s story of wealthy business man in Turkey, Istanbul who is truly madly  deeply  in love with a shopkeeper -distant cousin, Fusun despite  him being engaged to his rich girlfriend , Sibel. The love later on turns into an obsession and looses her in the mid way. Did Kemal win his love , if he did , did it love last forever forms the rest of the story. This book can be compared with any of our contemporary Indian cinema but what makes the difference is the narration. The author has spoken from the point Kemal knows Fusun’s existence which is when she was still a fetus in her mother’s womb while he himself was almost sixteen years old. The author has walked us thro’ the Istanbul streets and have brought in the transformation of Istanbul both culturally and as a country while he was narrating a flamboyant love story in a good five hundred and odd pages. The book was a memorable read and ‘unputdownable’ to me. This review gave a more meaningful insight about this wonderful book.

My Sister’s keeper by Jodi Picoult :

Pics Courtesy : Amazon.com

The book caught my attention for its unique tag line when I was browsing thro’ some books at the store and back home did a small research on the same. It’s story of how a child is ‘engineered’ to save her first child from leukemia. It elaborates on the emotions that as a family they are going thro’ and the legal hassles that follow. The author has used the multiple scheme of narrators who talks from their point of perspective. Of all the characters ,Sara Fitzgerald is one who would invoke a concoction of emotions ranging from love, hatred, sympathize ,empathize , anger all at the same time but, if any anything , this is one character whom we would never want to be. The book was definitely a great read for the plot, for the way it was written and for the literature. But yet the read was emotionally exhausting and was continually meandering  in my mind throughout and I really had to take a serious break from reading.

What to write??

The one thing that has been consistent of this space is my INCONSISTENCY and I’ve no qualms in saying so. Am I ashamed of this or do I attribute it to some mundane or clichéd  excuses like “No time, been busy” ,”life has not taken any earth shattering change to write about” and such like. But nothing of that sorts. It was my pure inability to translate my feelings to words. It’s as simple as that. Not a single day  had passed without me staring into this blank page wanting to tell so much and make my voice heard leading to typing something and  back  spacing it instantaneously. By the time I perform this ritual of write -and- delete - and-write , the moment would have surpassed blurring the thinking process further. Am not a prolific writer , for that instance, not even an average writer, to get inspired by scenic beauties or flower blossoming to write creatively and bring those wonderful moments before the reader’s eyes. If anything it’s only my thoughts that rule this space. There were umpteen number of thoughts that was meandering thro’ my mind , several of which would surpass as it comes and many of which sustained creating a profound impact in me . There have been instances where I’ve let my inundating feeling to pass by  unnoticed owing to the repercussions  that might follow. That’s when a small identity crisis crippled, as in, this space which was meant to be exclusive for me , which was started with a distinct  motive of expressing “honestly“, should itself be estranged. I didn’t know! I didn’t have answers to the myriad questions rising in my mind. But there was a point where I really felt the need for the resilience and watch the world pass by  as a mere  spectator with no strings attached to it. It was quite an experience to watch things at a distant. This process was really a great learning curve and has changed my perspective of life. Life at a distance was heaven but at the same time it was funnily weird at times. I really have so much to say and write but as of now am restraining myself to write more so as to learn from the world more.