Book Talk

When Breath becomes Air 

Goodreads: When breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

When you set forth reading a posthumous work, you already have an idea on how it will end. So, when I started reading it, I ensured I would be aloof to writer's struggles, his joys or his achievements and focus on blandly turning the pages until there were none. But just like the writer, I couldn't possibly put the finger on the future.
I could only plan, but what happens is mostly never in anyone's hands. So, I cried at the end not because I felt it tragic to lose a brilliant mind, I did, but his last breath made me think about the false illusion we are all trapped in, that life is always more, infinite or there is still a way forward.

The uncertainty of a journey ending is unsettling in many ways. But if one goes past it and finds meaning in existence, there is hope to lead an eternal life, not necessarily in physical form.

A read if you want to peek into a dying man's mind whose motivation to write was nothing other than time or the lack thereof.

The Elephant Vanishes

Very few authors make me come back for more and Murakami always manages to do just that. Not just his queer book covers which only make sense when I finally put the book down, I also find his book abstracts quite refreshing and rewarding enough to pick them up in the first place.

The Elephant vanishes is a collection of short stories that, to my distaste, end abruptly, although this plot twist will not deter you from going to the next tale in the book. Imagine that.

Some of these story characters have stayed with me for days, even after I finished the book and made me accept that despite all our humane differences we are still bonded in how we think or feel.

Recommended for a slow read.

Characters are bored but characterization is not

The Beatrice Letters

I have solely wanted the book after watching the Unfortunate series show on Netflix and having struck a chord(read ‘my heart’) I wanted nothing but to have this. 

The next few months, where ever I went, I made a point to inquire for the book as it was never available in any book store.

It took a long unwinding magical series of events, which I wouldn’t go into the details for your sake, but includes a game of Chrismom- Chrischild, my husband and a Kinokuniya store who took my request to order, I finally have it in my possession.

But, as the novelty of unpacking the gift wore off on the Christmas eve, opening the book I felt cheated and wordlessly dissatisfied.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a spectacular book to own. 

Everything about the book from its design, the secret compartments, the sailor’s map, oh my god – the pretty fonts, the magical feeling of looking at it from side to side and locating new things that I missed in the first glance, everything, like I said, was nothing short of spectacular.

What missed my boat was the collection of letters that I anticipated to contain more content, wherein I would spend hours and hours nibbling on the words, chewing on the pauses and reading, re-reading the quotes back in my mind as the sky finally turned off its lights.

Other than that one-bit going amiss, I do love it, the single letter printed on a double folded page was precious, just as how I imagined it.

It had soul drenching lines like –

“I will love you as a thief loves a gallery and as a crow loves a murder, as a cloud loves bats and as a range loves braes. I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong”

The remaining 12 letters didn’t do much for me although the fault for which, might lie with me, for jumping into the 13th without finishing the first 12 books of the series.

Having said all that, I feel endowed owning this beautiful, beautiful book and have no regrets for making the universe go through all the trouble of handing me this cherished piece of artistry. 

Kudos to Lemony Snicket.

To Beatrice –

Your letters were everything,

I wanted to read for more than a year.

Now that I have them in my palm,

I feel incomplete and left wanting for more.

The Book Thief

Really, what would I do without you Liesel?

At the end of the day, You waited patiently for me in the basement with your books. I wondered what you’d read for me today. I had nothing to give you in return except my undivided attention and yet you took me.

You said that was enough.

I fell in love with a lemon haired boy at your next door. Rudy.

He was silly and hopelessly devoted to you. He loved you hard and although you shied away, I know you did too. I wanted to go secretly tell him that night when he stood mid-waist in the river saving one of your books and called after you ‘Saumensh, how about a kiss.?’

And don't even get me started on your Mama and Papa. What a blessing it was for you that you managed to settle under their roof

of all the possibilities that could unveil for an orphan 10-year-old in Nazi Germany. I was not eager to know more about Mama in the beginning, like you I was fooled by her wide cardboard exteriors and the spiteful words she spat, but with each night in your basement, I saw her through her disdain, her outward anger was merely a facade for she was afraid she’d fall in love with you like she did with Papa;

Papa and his silver eyes. Through your words, I pictured those eyes that spread warmth on a cold night. His accordion. I wanted to own it after you know that fateful night. How could I not want it? It’s bellows reverberated with your innocence, his brave heart and your mama’s breath.

Her cardboard frame enveloped you both – Saukerl and Saumensh.

Herr Herman, I saw her throughout the tale as kind and a self-absorbed lady. She saw in you her own shadows. She faced her own demons in her head and hoped one day,  you’d take her hand but never extended it herself for the fear you might deny it. She in her own ways loved you Liesel. You were not only his son’s age but shared his love of words, why wouldn’t she see him in you.

I never felt I would feel an ounce of warmth for Death, but he certainly was the most affected all throughout the pages. It was more than a mere loss for him. Amidst all that work of taking away souls, his only respite was maybe you, for he found ways to be in touch with your life.

You are lucky, Liesel for everyone loved you in a way or two but not as much as Max for whom the world was You, a word shaker.

After all, you were his only stand-by-woman

 

The Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki by Murakami

My immediate reaction after finishing the last page of the book was to blink twice and google if it had a sequel?

I was left with a lot to think about because there were many threads left un-crocheted, mysteries unresolved and my present was impacted because the past and future of a colourless man was a question mark - a story left hanging right before my eyes.

I hate the conditioning of a happily ever and Murakami does what he intends to.

 

Question the long running patterns of your mind.

To keep the reader wonder even after the third day(of finishing the book) of what could have happened when he finally met the girl and proposed. 

There’s so much more to the book, the plot unnerving and average to the bored eye but as you flip the pages, you realize your interests are woven right into the narrative and the only way out is to keep turning the pages.

Recommended for life lessons. Find out more @Goodreads

Thousand Splendid Suns

I picked up this book from a relative’s bookshelf almost a decade ago and at the time reading a few chapters, I felt despair which could have mostly stemmed from what I was going through in my life personally then. 

I was leaving home for the first time, switching cities for work and I didn’t want to put myself through an emotional tide, so I conveniently bailed on the book and moved on with my life.

I am glad I braved back to this one despite the 10-year gap, as reading through the ordeal of a little Afghan girl, I realized how strong woman tend to be, and not just emotionally, but physically.

A beautiful melancholy of lives entwined through love, ego, abuse, sorrow, courage and most of all hope amidst war and all the loss it waves in.

This is a journey of a strong woman’s salvation that enabled freedom for many lives.

I cannot not appreciate Hosseini for bringing this precious tale in such a narrative brilliance of a thousand splendid suns.

The Untold Story of Sita

I don't usually identify with the mythological reads but this one came to me through multiple recommendations until I thought it was enough and plunged headfirst into it.

This book changes that notion of her being helpless and everything that happened in her life was via her initiation, in fact, she was a force reckoned to battle Ravana from inside his territory.
This new-found knowledge brought great comfort and inexplicable joy.

What I thoroughly loved about this book is that it subtly touches the power of prayer and the tremendous patience that women exhibit time and again, although unclaimed, has set the tone of Earth since the beginning of time.

Would recommend both believers and non-believers to experience devotion and emotions such as love and reverence towards the supremacy(of Nature/Gods/or any power you believe)

Goodreads: The Untold Story of Sita

    

            

WILD by Cheryl Strayed

GoodReads

I love this book mostly because I cannot fully fathom depositing myself to a 1000 mile hike on foot in the wilderness. However, I love the notion of freeing myself from the clutches of this arresting everyday routine only to plunge into a spiritually revealing journey.

The beauty of the narration is that you'd discover yourself in the writer's shoes from time to time.  Especially when Cheryl talks about relationships with her siblings and mother, who she is too close to, and the adults she remembered from when she was a child. 

Most of the agony in life I noticed is self-inflicted, and she seems no different.  She makes wrong choices one after the other, knowing that they would swerve her from the very world she has spent decades erecting but makes them anyway. 

Sometimes there is no single justification for why we stray from our convenient lives. And Sometimes, it takes a fox with a smooth red-haired coat on a snowy mountain, some hundreds of miles away from civilization, to nudge us to let go finally. While we are at it, maybe it's even okay to forgive ourselves as the only reason to where we are right now is because of those poor-then-rich-now decisions.

I thoroughly enjoyed the overwhelming first-hand experience of Cheryl Strayed. 

It would be a mistake not to pick this 'monster' read.