The Morning Report

As hard as I wanted to keep this blog purely literary, I don't think I can much longer. But I will try to relatively keep it that way. Before getting into that, where have I been lately? I have abandoned my home, my husband and of course my blog for a few months, in order to be with my parents. It sure felt really strange to see how much they needed me, and not the other way around. Only recently, things have been getting back to normal. No, everything is not alright. But then, I have realized that not being alright is also normal. And people just deal with abnormal and difficult situations. In general my life is getting back to normalcy.
I've mostly used this blog to dabble in short stories, poetry-of-sorts or for reviewing a book or poem I recently read. You might find a post here or there with none of those things. For instance, I might just write about nothing like I am doing today. Oh, though I have been away from my blog, I never left my books. I read quite a few recently. So, hang in there to hear about the books I've been worming through...

And now for The Morning Report

Pillars Of The Earth: A Review

    I have never been a great lover of Ken Follet's works. Sure he writes amazing suspense thrillers, excellent page-turners, but I have always felt his books a little too raw for my taste. That being said, I loved his epic story - Pillars of the Earth. The book came out in 1989 and made its way to Oprah's list in 2007.  I never heard about it until I saw Follet's TV interview recently about the new mini-series they are making based on this book. I am glad to have picked it up a little later than never. It is a riveting page-turner. Once I started the book, I could not put it down, and spent three sleepless nights over it. And it was a whopping 1000 pages!
    It is an epic work, true to the word, with magnificent characters, grand buildings and an excellent narration. Based in the medieval times, it rotates around the construction of a Gothic cathedral in a fictitious town called Kingsbridge. The story takes place from 1123 to 1174 A.D. The book reflects the political anarchy from one of the most contentious times in English history, when the country was ravaged by civil war, with self appointed heirs fighting for the throne after Henry I. The novel however, does not focus much on the war, but with the building of a church. It describes the lives of a few specific fictional characters that are involved with or are affected by the construction of the cathedral, with the backdrop of the political happenings of those times. The book describes in great lengths the development of Gothic architecture, and the typical growth and fall of market towns in medieval England, inter-laced with the political tug between the church and the state. The characters include stone-masons from two generations, a prior, the daughter of a knight, the daughter of an earl, and her brother who try to earn back their earldom- give life to the book and are greatly engaging. The narrative is quick and captivating, with lots of twists and turns and the political backdrop is exciting.
     The only complaints I have with the book, are the unnaturally conniving behavior depicted by some of the characters and  excessive narratives of unnecessary sex at times. But then it's a Ken Follet novel. Since its an old book, you should be able to get a used copy easily just like I did.
     All that said, my recommendation for you: Do pick it up! Do not be discouraged by the size of the book, since you will hardly notice how long you've been reading for. And at the end, you will be sad that it ended.

PS: There is a sequel to this book named, World Without End. I have yet to pick a copy.

Not That Day

They stumble and falter, then prod and push,
amble and jostle, my words then gallop in a parade as I sit by
Tirelessly they march on - dreaming and dancing
O those delightful episodes! When all I can do with contentment is sigh
Poised for the deluge I sit waiting in my cozy nook
But today is not that day and the page is empty in my book

The vibrant emerald hues or the memories of the rain
The smell of a fresh summer lily
The flashes of joy or that long forgotten pain-
all old friends who take me through my page. Today they stare at me nonchalantly
Poised for the deluge I sit waiting in my cozy nook
But today is not that day and the page is empty in my book

Colored Toys

This morning I read this beautiful poem by Tagore. In the poem he draws parallels between a mother's gifts to her child and God's beautiful creations. The mother's song is compared to the music in the leaves and the colorful toys to the many hued flowers. The poem is filled with amazing imagery describing nature's many gifts to us.  It is truly lovely! Read on...

When I bring to you colored toys, my child,

I understand why there is such a play of colors on clouds, on water,

and why flowers are painted in tints

—when I give colored toys to you, my child.

When I sing to make you dance

I truly know why there is music in leaves,

and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth

—when I sing to make you dance.

When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands

I know why there is honey in the cup of the flowers

and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice

—when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands.

When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling,

I surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light,

and what delight that is that is which the summer breeze brings to my body

—when I kiss you to make you smile.

(Picture taken from)

The Inheritance of Loss: A Review

     I started reading this one afternoon when I sat in the bookstore. I hadn't purchased a copy by that time. And much to my surprise I sat there and read about 100 pages. I did not budge an inch. So, one might ask- Is this a good book? Unfortunately I do not know how to answer that question. I did think it was very well written, however, was very surprised to learn that it won the Booker prize for 2006.
     The Inheritance of Loss, Kiran Desai's second book, travels back and forth between Kalimpong, a tiny Himalayan hill town, and the streets of New York City, with a few scenes rolling in England.
     The story revovles around a 16 year old orphaned girl Sai, who is sent to live with her grandfather a retired judge and former civil servant, who lives in a desolate bungalow on the hills in Kalimpong. The judge has a cook, whose son Biju is an illegal immigrant in New York, who tries to make a living by doing all kinds of odd jobs. The plot oscillates between the lives of Sai, the judge and his cook with the backdrop of the Gorkhaland agitation, and Biju's struggles to build a life for himself in the States. The book is full of other Kalimpong characters most of whom are uproots living in exile. All the characters  in the book seem to be struggling for something-some yearn for love while some struggle for acceptance. There is a prominent potrayal of  immigrant emotions in most of the characters as they try to discover who they are and where they belong to. Desai's narrative of exotic locations and eccentric characters is colorful and heart warming.
      So, why was I surprised that this book won the Booker. At times I found the narrative incoherent, as it shifted between the characters in Kalimpong and the desperation portrayed by the character in New York. Some conversations were complex and the dialogue was copious at times. A times the sentences confused me. I am not sure if it is an accepted form of prose or experimentation, where the author used odd punctuation and expressions in the middle of some sentences. Am I suggesting that the book was badly written, definitely not. Please give it a try. You might love it or it could just pass for an average book. However, it did not fulfill my expectations of a Booker winner.

A Million Hues of Blue

Sun rays dancing off a painting in blue etched on glass,

washed my world away in a million happy hues of blue

Singing and dancing

blue jays and peacocks,

Cerulean oceans and icy blue lakes,

From near and far

Egyptian blues and Prussian hues

from Cambridge and Carolina too,

Gems dipped in azure skies

sapphires and turquoise

treasures and trinkets,

Garlands of periwinkle

iris and cornflower,

An indigo bridging the heavens and the earth.

A color of the mood?

Oh no! I don't think so

For when I think of blue

its happy, bright and true

Sun rays dancing off a painting in blue etched on glass,

washed my world away in a million happy hues of blue

Eat Pray Love: A Review

Everybody has read this book or is looking to read it. I finally did! I fell in love with the character, which is to say; the writer herself, since this is a true story and she wrote a memoir of a period in her very own life. She described a time in her life when she experiences a sort of mid-life crisis, (but she’s only 34,) post-divorce,  and decides to spend 4 months each in Italy, India and Indonesia, chasing worldly pleasure, spiritual devotion, and a balance between the two. She chronicled her travels in an excellent manner and very quickly I found myself absorbed in them.

I found her narration extremely witty and entertaining at times. Often times I could not help myself from laughing out loud while I was reading, for instance, when she describes her train of thoughts as she tries to meditate in an Ashram in India: "I was wondering where I should live once this year of traveling has ended. . . . If I lived somewhere cheaper than New York, maybe I could afford an extra bedroom and then I could have a special meditation room! That'd be nice. I could paint it gold. Or maybe a rich blue. No, gold. No, blue. . . . Finally noticing this train of thought, I was aghast. I thought: . . . How about this, you spastic fool — how about you try to meditate right here, right now, right where you actually are?"

Her writing is deep and insightful, easy to read, and very captivating. She is self-deprecating; and is not one bit ashamed to bare it all out. I enjoyed the book for the most part, but found some parts boring. But I am really glad I read this book. And I will certainly read this book a few more times for sure. To describe this book in one sentence: Travel journal meets self-improvement guide. Go figure!

Here is one of my favorite conversations from the book:

So, when the old man asked me in person what I really wanted, I found other, truer words.  

“I want to have a lasting experience with God,” I told him. “Sometimes I feel like I understand the divinity of this world, but then I lose it because I get distracted by my petty desires and fears. I want to be with God all the time. But I don’t want to be a monk, or totally give up worldly pleasures. I guess what I want to learn is how to live in this world and enjoy its delights, but also devote myself to God.”

Ketut said he could answer my question with a picture. He showed me a sketch he’d drawn during meditation. It was an androgynous human figure, standing up, hands clasped in prayer. But this figure had four legs and no head. Where the head should have been, there was only wild foliage of ferns and flowers. There was a small, smiling face drawn over the heart.”

“To find the balance you want,” Ketut spoke through his translator, “this is what you must become. You must keep your feet grounded so firmly on the earth that it’s like you have four legs, instead of two. That way, you can stay in the world. But you must stop looking at the world through your head. You must look through your heart, instead. That way you will know God.”

  

Excerpted from "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. Copyright © 2006 by Elizabeth Gilbert.