Thursday, September 27, 2007

On A Thousand Splendid Suns

Un-put-down-able. I picked up the book because I was curious to see what it was all about, and what had made it a chart topper in the U.S. I read it over a weekend non stop. While typically, that is said of books with gripping story lines, in this case, it was not so. I just wanted the agony to end, I wanted to see how it ended and I knew I would never feel like picking it up again if I put it down before I finished it. It was a painful saga, and the story rode on stereotypes through and through. I'll give Hosseini the credit for holding the thread well enough, and for well-rendered descriptions of war-ridden Afghanistan. But to be honest, I found no quality in the story, no depth, and quite overdone pathos and drama. I didn't quite understand what made it such a success.
The other day while cycling around, I noticed a sign near the public library saying "Book club discussion: A thousand splendid suns". Quite some coincidence, I thought, so I decided to go to it to listen to what other people have to say. I also thought it would be a nice way to make new friends. I got late at work, and ended up hurrying down to the library and caught a glimpse of the discussion winding down. About 8 people were gathered around a table, with coffee and snacks. So much for hoping to make new friends, they all just happened to be in the age range of 60 years or so, and friendless as I am in this new city, I wasn't about to join the geriatric club yet. I observed silently, and could see routine expressions. One person's face looked grave and serious while narrating something, and the other 7 around the table had a permanent ":o" expression stuck on their face. Of course, they were horrified to read about how women are treated, violated, exploited in "aff-gan-ees-tan". I could see how this book could've become a success in the West- how everyone found it "stunning" and "heart-warming" and all that and more. Frankly, I thought it was a glorified soap opera with its moments of literary creativity and beauty. I do think it will make a great movie. A long, sad, tear-jerker that I am not going to go to.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

What is worse?

That she will never find out where she went wrong; or that she will never know if she went wrong?

Thursday, September 06, 2007


I think the alone-ness has hit me finally. Last week a bad migraine and a long day at work made me yearn to go and find a friend, get a drink or a meal with, and just sit and yap. Today I burnt my hand in the lab, and I don't want to get all wussy, but yeah, i could give in to some whining. I find myself missing all my close friends from lutom, even though they left lutom a year before me, and the few other buddies that were around when I left. Phone calls can only come this close to making up for it, and at some point don't help because they make you miss the real thing even more. I miss dowtown lutom. I miss the night-time janitor in my building. I even miss my Ph.D advisor!  It doesn't help that I find this whole new resistance in me to make new close friendships. I have met some really nice folks around here but am keeping them at bay. New place, new friends, but that is going to take a while to happen. This is the downside of two-month long vacations at home- you almost forget how it is to live alone, deal with your problems alone and cook for yourself, which I haven't done since I got here. And to think I was complaining about how stifling it used to get at home sometimes. Heh heh heh. So glad my parents dont read this blog. ;)
Sigh. I gotta get with the program. And if anyone of you even dares to suggest marriage as a solution, I will hunt you down and beat you up. So be warned. :@ :)  

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Welcome back

Once, you were an integral part of my life. I needed you, and without you I'd go nowhere. Then, before I realized it, things change. You cannot blame me entirely for letting you go. I admit, I had begun to care less, but those were stressful times; I was always fighting time and giving in easily. I should've "made" time, you'd say, and you'd perhaps be right. But the damage was done, slowly and gradually, and one fine day, you stopped being a part of me, a part of my life. I was not happy with this new me, but that was how it was. I decided to leave it at that simply because I couldn't deal with it. Life went on, the stressful times gave way to happy times. In the cosy comfort of home, I did not even miss you as we distanced even more. Sometimes, I looked back on the times I had you and wondered if we'd ever get back together again. Deep down, I wanted to, but I did not see it happen easily, I knew that it would take time and effort.
Today, I found myself reaching out for you. I need you back in my life, right where you belong, just like the old days; and I am overjoyed at the very prospect.Welcome back, dear belt.