When Reading A Book

I knew I was in trouble as soon as I finished reading Eka Kurniawan's "Beauty is a Wound". Even though I think I do not fully like the book, when asked about it, I could not bring myself to say I did not like it. It did not take long for me to realize that... Continue Reading →

Freedom at Midnight

It does not happen much nowadays but I always like time travel. Twilight zones that leave you dazed mid-step and flit away before the heel hits the ground. It leaves you with a tantalizing whisper of evacuated presence.  Elusive and probably all the more delicious because of its ephemeral quality. Diaphanous thoughts and gossamer emotions, resulting in unsettled individuals.... Continue Reading →

Moby Dick – Ahab’s Obsessions

When I first came to New York, and if I am not careful even now, I had a tendency to walk looking upward. At stoplights my eyes are drawn to the topmost floors of the tall buildings lining Manhattan where angry NYPD helicopters flit to and fro, like huge metal dragonflies startled from their rooftop sunning sessions. I follow their... Continue Reading →

Chronicles of a Death Foretold

Every so often comes a book that makes you question your ability as a reader. Here I was happily turning pages when all of a sudden I dread to read another page. I could not fathom reading. It was bound to happen. I did manage to finish the book almost 3000 miles from home sitting in a harshly... Continue Reading →

Homage to Catalonia and Kerala

"It is the same in all wars; the soldiers do the fighting, the journalists do the shouting, and no true patriot ever gets near a front line trench, except on the briefest of propaganda tours. Sometimes it is a comfort to me to think that the aeroplane is altering the conditions of war. Perhaps when... Continue Reading →

Munnu – A Boy From Kashmir

Never have I approached a subject so warily as this. I can review the book and not talk about Kashmir but that is cowardly. Cowering behind literature when opining about Kashmir is the shortest route out of controversy. Before proceeding further I can safely say that Malik Sajad's work, as a personalized account of life in Kashmir, is impactful. This is... Continue Reading →

A Home that I almost Lost

I slump forward tiredly. I am losing my home. For many days now, years maybe, I have felt unmoored. An unpleasant listlessness that I evade analyzing.  It could be that I have purposefully put off this soul searching much like a kid who saves his most favorite candy to eat the last. I am not sure. All I... Continue Reading →

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