The Search for Love

I believe every one of us at one time or the other starts searching for love. Some go through their whole life ignoring their hearts desire just to search feverishly for what is it that matters on their death beds. Some others are truly lucky, Love finds them. Love presents itself in front of them in such lovely ways that it is impossible for anyone to ignore. Lucky Bastards. But many of us are not that fortunate yet we don’t give up, we are not undermined, we search for it with all our vigor.

Why do I love the silence of the moon,

The paradisal distance of the dawn,

I believe myself lucky when it comes to love. No, love did not show itself in front of me and knock on my door but I did not had to search much to find it an I was luckier still that I knew it when I found it. It really is true that when true love blossoms its hard to ignore and impossible to notice. It feels like the whole and everything in it comes to be revolving around that special someone. What you do and what you think, everything starts and ends with that someone.

The depth of eve mysteriously withdrawn,

Better than all the roses of late June,

One can always force oneself to love a person but that is not the true nature of love. At all times such love shall feel empty and its abysmal absence felt upon mankind? One cam always adjust, analyze and feel secure in love. Love is inherently volatile, unyielding and never shape. It is as chaotic as the moments of genesis was and so is it just as tranquil and serene as the midnight lakes. Love takes no prisoners nor ever call for peace, yet it is never the war nor the clandestine blood splatter.

The garden's breath, the orchard's golden boon,

The burning brightness of the new-mown lawn,

I had my heart broken not once, not twice nor thrice but many more a times. It has been bruised and it has been violated beyond healing, yet my heart could not stop itself from the vindictive search for love. Then came the absence, the abstinence and the stale doldrums and after all of the hells ailments came the light and came the peace.

The mossy forest-floor with beech-mast strawn,

And green trees waving in the depth of noon.

It was a smile at first and then a giggle, It was a hello at first and then serene silence, a touch then its prolonged absence, an emptiness and then the feeling of universal belonging and then the feeling of weightlessness sans hunger sans thirst. Like the vagabond clouds in the heaven his mighty and afterwards the freshness of the virgin earth at the first touch of the mighty rain.

Night hath her dreams and the lone heart its tears;

Silence and longing weep themselves to rest

Then one day in the autumnal bliss of the solitary morning, in her lovely poster resembling much mighty artists’ works and in the absence of time, space and reason I knew, I knew what is it that I held in my heart and unknowingly sans reason and logic I drew her near and sealed us with a kiss. Not a long prolonged slobbering of lust but the lightest brushing my trembling lips on her snow like cheek.

Each on the other's mild and maiden breast;

The seeking spirit sighs, the dim star hears;

Oh Bliss Eternal. This was the moment of great love that had extended many a millennia, time was not in any hurry and reason had not one bit of sand to stand upon. This was our moment and our alone and the all the earth and the heavens above were ours and ours alone. This was my moment of enlightening   and my moment of atonement. The final act of supreme love and from it came love and love only.

Distance and high devotion suit the best,

And deep as thy deep eyes the dawn appears.

The Book Review : The Bankster - Ravi Subramanian

An insidious sequence of events, twists and turns set beautifully to trap and engage the reader from the start to the very end. Ravi has managed to make sure that the element of surprise and anxiety never settles in the readers mind till the very last and ensured that predictability is abolished entirely. The Bankster is a true mystery in all its completeness and essence that can be set apart from the rest as a resonating example of what a mystery must and should be. 

Synopsis : Bankers build their careers on trust, or so everyone thinks, till a series of murders threaten to destroy the reputation that the Greater Boston Global Bank (GB2) has built over the years. Who is behind these killings, and what is their motive? When Karan Panjabi, press reporter and ex-banker, digs deeper, he realizes that he has stumbled upon a global conspiracy with far reaching ramifications a secret that could not only destroy the bank but also cast a shadow on the entire nation. With only thirty-six hours at his disposal, he must fight the clock and trust no one if he is to stay alive and uncover the truth.

The story ensues from the diamond mines of Angola driven by a covert CIA agent and it passes hands to Vikram Bahl and comes Home to Mumbai where most of it is set. It later wanders off to the Europe pursuing a series of unfortunate yet seemingly unrelated events. The story set amongst the employees in the upper echelons of the Greater Boston Global Bank passes on suspicion as if in a relay race, making it almost impossible for the reader to arrive at a preconceived guess of the mystery man. Something that most mystery writes miss now a days is where Ravi Subramanian scores tons.

The story though extremely realistic has some minor flaws never the less, The story does lack a true protagonist  Karan Panjabi, the Banker turned reporter who is supposedly the hero of the tale come way after the middle of the story and almost to the end. His entrance is so feeble and uncared for that no one knows he is the protagonist till he solves the mystery. No character sketch, no intensity of feeling, no nothing of our protagonist is given anywhere. All on a sudden he drops in with a girl and takes charge of the story leaving the readers feeling lost and somewhat deprived. He could have done much good by introducing Karan in the start and channeling the story through him than from various unambiguous sources.

This particular defect extends to all of the characters and is the single most disastrous the writer made with the book. Almost all of his characters are uncharted and lacks depth. The only person whose character has been examined would be Vikram bahl that to as a consequence of certain events and not as part of a dedicated interpretation of the character by the author. 

Setting that apart the story is magnificently chartered and beautifully distributed across, Mumbai, Vienna and the Middle-East and a handful of well-placed characters. The highest point for the story is its unpredictability which is well supplemented and supported by Ravi's characters. The Bankster is a recommended read by me and is much more than just a financial thriller, the mystery and action adds flavour to the whole story.

I give The Bankster by Ravi Subramanian a rating of : 3 out of 5

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The Human Comedy

If one starts thinking about our live then we realize the utter foolishness that we live through every single day. Almost all of our routine actions are worth a hefty laugh and nothing more. Still funnier is the host of seemingly clever excuses that we come up with in the desperate attempt to cover our fallacies. When we look at this world from outside the oyster of our merry life, without pride nor prejudice, sans all preconceptions then we really can see that the world and all its worldly activities are nothing but one elaborate joke. A poignant one yet a joke nevertheless.

“Unless a man has pity he is not truly a man. If a man has not wept at the worlds pain he is only half a man, 

The words and deeds may seem too tall but it is not, for the comedy that our life is does not run in some elusive theater but inside the very space that we consider our sanctum sanctorum and protect with thick mortar walls and iron latches. Coming to think of it I find it in itself to be a bloody joke. 

and there will always be pain in the world, knowing this does not mean that a man shall despair. 

Just Looking around is more than enough to realize this foolhardiness, I believe this realization is what enlightenment is, and that is why Buddha laughed when he attained it. Of course this is but a speculation on my part irrespective of the fact that it would easily explain why this realization is so hard. After all enlightenment is supposedly omnipresent and yet impossibly hard to attain.

A good man will seek to take pain out of things.

May it be the silliness of belligerent driver who tries all the cards up his sleeve just to get ahead and yet ends up playing catch up with the same at the next red light. Or on a more serious note be it the general greedy who spends all their health in gaining his wealth and then spends all his wealth in re-instituting the same health he lost in making the wealth. I do believe in the story of Alexander the great who had conquered all of the known world and yet on his final ascend took nothing but good will and good deeds with him. The conqueror and the conquered, the king and the peasant would walk that path as equals, bearing no embellishments but deeds and their sanctity. It reminds us of the foolishness of worldly ranks and beings at large.

A foolish man will not even notice it, except in himself, 

It is just as sad as it is hilarious, the life an average man lives. So full of gluttony and vainglory that his visions are tainted, his passions sacrificed. Living a full life is not gauged by the magnanimity of the deeds but by the heart and the will that set out to do what had to be done. He alone can live a life that is not to be laughed at but, smiled at with much envy and pride.  In this mad, mad world it takes much lunacy to laugh at it and yet greater amount to live a life of conviction that is confined not by social reasoning. 

 and the poor unfortunate evil man will drive pain deeper into things and spread it about wherever he goes.” 

― William Saroyan

The True Nature of Change

Humanity has always despised change and every now and then they erupt with such rage and violence that simple conscious cannot stand its toll. This all-consuming rage directed at whatever it is that has caused this change upon the delicate society. For over a decade we have been preparing for just another of these great changes. A change is coming where the old freedoms have to be re written with new freedom.

Though every time we say that it’s just another change we realize it’s no passing matter. The change how small or great is never the real problem but what happens when the change comes is what that bothers. As someone wisely said “The night is darkest before dawn”, so is the nature of every change. Just before the change all reduce to chaos, all become dangerously unstable, books are to be rewritten understandings are to be changed. The true colour and nature of change brings forth the rue colour and nature of the ones whose lives are about to be rewritten. Some of them accept, some resist, others fight and when the change is larger and ever the more radical the resistance is higher. 

For any change to take place in a society the society has to mature and a considerable amount of consciousness has to evolve and only when a society so becomes mature and potent that the change happens. And when the change is seen through and the perils of the darkness have been abolished comes solace, a deeper understanding of self and self-righteousness.

But then again we ask ourselves why change, can’t we live in the apathy of the world and let chaos be chaos? The truth is human beings are totally and completely incapable of handling serenity. Once freedom has been seen humanity cannot rest until this freedom has been established. Many lay there life for ideals far greater than themselves and in this process they become the ever remembered symbols of change.

Humanity has always been an optimistic species and even when subjected to darkest of hours they tend to find the way to light. Unlike what the majority of world believes humanity is not a lost cause, they are in fact lazy but never lost. As duly noted by one eminent mind that humanity tend to act only at the precipice of danger. They like the stupid frog sits in the water as it simmers only realize the danger when the water around it starts boiling. 

The time is ripe and humanity has made the duly awaited leap. Now all that remains is the change itself and when the time is right a spark will fly and that spark will ignite in us all a flame. A flame so glorious that it cannot be extinguished by any one or any power and that spark will see it through that humanity is changed for the better once again.

Date a Girl Who Reads

I Just stumbled upon something while blog-hopping and I just had to reblog it. I found it in a rather amazing blog by the name of seongyosa who working as a missionary teacher in South Korea. The article was titled "Date a Girl Who Reads", which has been retained by me. It is my understanding that she itself got it from another blog by Rosemarie Urquico. Now this is a viral literary essay on the internet. 

When I read this article I just had to publish it again, it is so beautifully written and I loved it so much. 

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second-hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamier is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted.

Ask her if she likes the book. Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her.You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

Don't you agree that its beautiful, A simple way to talk about the girl of my dreams. :)