Of What Was And Of What Is


The life of a leaf begins as a bud aspiring to outreach the branches and then somewhere realizes its naivety and contends at being just a leaf. But it must not despair for being a leaf itself is a privilege great enough as it helps the ants build their homes from it, provides for nourishment for the very branch it wanted to outgrow and collectively gives shade to the scorched earth. As it goes from a supple bud to a pliant woebegone dry reincarnation of itself, its aspirations change reflecting the new experiences it has gained by being still yet observant.



When I started out with this blog, my intent was to review only
non-fiction history books for I thought I would only read non-fiction books all my life but then came Khushwant Singh’s Train to Pakistan. And I thought I could extend myself to historical fiction within my own sensible boundaries of not picking up something that is more fiction than historical. But of lately, many a works have attracted me – all of Indian writers. And these works have been beautiful creations of fiction. Few of them at the top of my mind are: AK Ramanujan, Rohinton Mistry, Anita Desai, Munshi Premchand, Ghalib, Girish Karnad and Vikram Seth.


And I as pliant leaf do get affected by the incessant rains and the sordid heat as much as by the pleasant autumn and the porous morning. I even penned my own short story based on my reflections on how dogmatic the human society has become.



I have never been a big movie fan who could rattle at finger’s snap the names of directors, actors and producers of famous movies. But somehow non-commercial, art and alternative cinema has always attracted me because I find it more reflective of the truth and portrays the pain of an unknown heart which longs for succor. Not that I am not impressed and in awe of weird and beautiful movies – American Beauty and Such a Long Journey hypnotize me whenever I see them, especially the former. Thomas Newman’s track Any Other Name is a piece which mesmerizes me time and again – taking me to an altogether different plateau of ‘mindful’ existence, or rather a mindless one. Shyam Benegal’s movies of the 70’s and 80’s exposed me to the masterful acting skills of various artists like Shabana Azmi, Naseeruddin Shah, Kulbhushan Kharbanda, Smita Patil and Anant Nag among others. And so did Mira Nair's Mississippi Masala with L Subramaniam's stirring violin. Also, being in the city of Mumbai, have watched lot of plays and dramas – and the good ones will remain etched in the memories for long.



Henceforth, my writings on this blog will not be just about historical books but also about movies, plays, dramas, poetry, fiction, literature festivals, book stores, music, my own views and philosophy and probably anything under the sun which moves me, captivates me and refuses to let go of my soul.



All images are from http://www.colourlovers.com 






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