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November 26, 2010

A novel about my wife: Emily Perkins

It was motion and stillness both at the same time! The story altogether transported me into another realm, sucking me into a nimbus, slowly lulling me into stillness, while the world around me moved! This book means so much to me. Because not only did it wake up the avid reader inside me, but it also inspired me to pen greyness. Tepid. Flawed. And real. Emily Perkins shows how vulnerable a man’s world can be beneath that stone-face, funny mask and heroic aura! How much does becoming a father mean to a man! But all through she maintains a fine distance from raw, naked emotion. No, it does not hit you in the eye, the emotion in this book. It gently tugs at your heart strings and tells you that it is all right to be vulnerable, to dream with the lurking shadow of it breaking to pieces following suit. For there would be someone who would find you beautiful, even at the rock-bottom of the pit!

Inside my apartment, I lived with Ann as long as I read this book. I could see her, vividly, pace through my living room, trapped in her own imagination. Ann, the female lead of the book suffers beautifully! Sometimes you’d want to just reach out, bury her between the contours of your womb and comfort her! Sometimes you’d want to chide her for being too strong. And throughout the book you'd want to scream at her that she is ruining her own marriage by living in that world she built inside her head! The book explores the possibility of confinement existing within our own mind and how during vulnerable stages we succumb to it. Ann is beautifully complemented by a husband who suffers from reality! The ocean of love that he possesses for Ann overwhelms him and fills him with gratitude at the same time. His world is airy, bright and beautiful because of this woman and he is grateful that she is his wife. It is this selfless gratification that warms you up to Tom Stone. Not his persona.

You see Ann’s beauty through his eyes, not the handsome chiseled face and perfectly crafted features kind of beauty but stayling alive enough to feel hurt, pain, discomfort and yet not lose your strength EVER, kind of beauty! You worry with this man when his wife starts hallucinating and you feel equally exhilarated when he finally becomes a father! You feel his loss when his wife dies and you mourn while he relishes the moment! This book drew my attention to something important that has always been ignored, that only in confinement shall you experience the greatest sense of freedom and only in the eye of the storm would you realize your true potential!

. If books are indeed about transporting you to another world, touching your life and yet not changing the person you are, then I claim that through A novel about my wife, I have experienced this and much more!

April 07, 2010

Abrupt conversations1

Artist: I create and I destroy

Aide: What do you destroy?

Artist: I destroy whatever I create.

Aide: Do you destroy other things too?

Artist: Not intentionally!

Aide: You did not answer my question. Do you destroy other things too?

Artist: Sometimes. In the process of destroying whatever I create.

Aide: How do you feel as soon as you destroy something?

Artist: Like God.

Aide: Do you think God destroys?

Artist: I think God also destroys.

Aide: Then why do you want to destroy? Can’t you wait for God to destroy whatever you create?

Artist: I did not think about it.

Aide: Well now you can think about it.

(He thinks, deep and long)

Artist: But then, I AM GOD.

Aide: You said you feel “like God”. So you aren’t God!

Artist: I am not God?

Aide: No you are not.

Artist: Then who am I?

Aide: You are someone who creates and destroys. You do not have any creations to show to the world, because you would have already destroyed them. This world will never wake up to your greatness; will never make you GOD-only because you destroy every masterpiece that you create.

Artist: But I want to be God.

Aide: You can be God.

Artist: How?

Aide: Create the greatest of things that man can only dream of and then, RETAIN everything. Let the masterpieces roll in the gold dust of mankind and let them be the statues of Buddha that will forever replace Nirvana.

Artist: And then I will be God?

Aide: Yes, you can be GOD.

Artist: Whatever it is that you said, I mean what I have to do in order to become God can you write it down in simpler language?

Aide: How much more simpler?



Artist: Simpler without the Buddha, nirvana and gold dust. I am allergic to gold!



Empowerment of soles

A lot of ‘soul clutter’ around me. Enlightenment of soul. Liberation of soul.  Mating of souls.  And I have only begun.
A completely random thought amidst this soul chaos: I wonder why do guys (I am particularly sure that only guys can do this) forget to wear their socks. That is quite a distracting sight.  Not wearing a sock(s) is ignoring your sole. Your feet, I mean sole helps you in walking ahead, moving forward, catching your bus, collecting your pay cheque, letting your hair down on the dance floor, buying hot samosas in the rain , walking to and fro the coffee machine at work and a host of other activities that define the very essence of life! How can guys ignore to pay attention to the soles?
The socks became an integral part of the greatest of civilizations. There are evidences that the Greeks covered their feet with socks made out of matted animal hair, from as early as the 8th century. The Romans were only happy to follow suit. By the 5th century AD, socks called ‘puttees’ were worn by holy people in Europe to symbolize purity. By 1,000 AD, socks became a symbol of wealth among the nobility. The invention of a Knitting Machine in 1589 revolutionized the process of making a sock. From then on socks could be made six times faster and a host of design elements found their way onto socks.
With a history as rich, your pair of socks, lying to some corner of your room, maybe unwashed, has a lineage of respected ancestors. It lies there ignored, hoping that you would put your socks on someday! That someday it shall see the light of the world. That someday it shall fulfill its responsibility of protecting your soles and giving you warmth.
This is my honest appeal to all you brothers out there who are habituated to ignore your pair of socks. You are gross. Grow up and contribute your share to the empowerment of a sock. (This comes from a person who has countless number of fresh socks waiting to be work. Yes, I am wearing red polka-dotted socks right now)