While discussing this book with my friends, one thing emerged clear – there were threads too many, and they all jumbled up. Not for me though. Nope. The threads are meant to jumble up, they are meant to be sharp enough to cut the reader’s line of thought, they are woven with the sly intention … More And then, there were four!
Imagine a town. An alley in it. Houses lining the alley on both sides. You get a peek into each one of them. And find the same story. Different versions but same story. Man in control; woman, his vehicle. He owned her, rode her, flaunted her, pushed her and upgraded to a modern version when … More Small acts of resilience in a tainted alley
Orbital. A book I lived with for many days and nights. And then for periods I couldn’t make sense of – between rush runs and garrulous concalls, between silent dreams and chaotic honks, between pressured cabins and blinding night-lights. But I held it tight under all circumstances. Because it had become a friend. Across its … More View (and spirit) from Space
In the recent years, a realization has dawned on me – the loudest of essences comes from the quietest of people; it is to say that those who do not give away words for a trifle, give words to matters that are substantial, and these very words invariably tend to ring long after they have … More Quiet Power of Right
She walked up. I wasn’t prepared for her arrival. And yet, there she was – leaning at my door, from the yesteryears, like a familiar but forgotten memory, one hand holding a camera, the other on her waist, asking me if she can come in. I let her. And with the falling night in the … More Behind the doors of civility
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. I pause – to gather my breath, and blinded eyes. But she doesn’t. With a singular aim that never misses the target, she shoots. She shoots maniac, she shoots incandescent. She shoots tender, she shoots ruthless. She shoots diabolic, she shoots sober. But Boulder doesn’t stop. That’s the one thing she … More Of Boulders by the ocean, and the lives around them
‘History is the consequence not only of people’s actions, but also of their forgetfulness.’ I couldn’t help but mull over this sentiment of the author in the light of the dastardly attack on him last year – an attack that, eventually, impacted his vision in one eye and movement of one arm. An attack for … More Two Centuries of Fable or Truth?
Of late, I have been wary of picking up a chunkster to read – no, not because they have lost their appeal but because I have come to attach greater value to the time I have at hand. Almost to the point of being miserly to let it go without doing my best dance with … More Friendship in the frigid weather of life
The Watcher in the Shadows by Carlos Ruiz ZafónMy Rating: 3 of 5 Stars Somewhere on the path of life, when adulthood looms large and we end up seeing the horizons of the impending twilight more frequently than we would wish to, there are stops of childhood sped past that we reminisce the most – … More Doppelgänger, nee, Shadows?
A Farewell to Gabo and Mercedes by Rodrigo GarciaMy Rating: 5 of 5 Stars ’It’s a dizzying sensation to know the destiny of a human being.’ I should know. But may not. Because no matter how well one prepares to say goodbye to a parent, seeing him/ her inching closer to that sunset with every … More Last Days of Gabo
SEEMITA DAS 