Angela's Ashes

Angela's Ashes- my current read!

A childhood tale told by it's author Frank Mc Court is definitely making me laugh but I do not want to many a times because what follows after that humour is the bitter truth about his family's poverty and hardship.

But he's narrating it so very naturally.

I am still a long way in reading the story completely but couldn't resist writing these present thoughts. 

I see a sparkle in their eyes when I enter their room.
A tiny room which can seat 20 children at the most. The adjacent rooms are not separated with a wall. Rather, they are divided in a way that would give an impression of office cubicles.
But it is not any office space that I am describing.
It is the school which I visit every Thursday precisely at 11 '0 clock and leave exactly at 12.
It is an underprivileged school and has been adopted by an NGO that goes mobile carrying storybooks to selected schools in Hyderabad.

That sparkle in their eyes tell me that they have been waiting for another Story Reading session.
Probably, this may be their one hour of complete enjoyment for the whole week.
The noise that surrounds the place (coming from all the adjacent classrooms) do not bother them nor me. Of course, this makes my task a little difficult. I 'shout'  the story rather than 'read' it for them:)
At the end of each story, they eagerly wait for the fun- filled worksheets or activities.
Their enthusiasm never fades.

I have worked in an International School earlier and I cannot remember a single child who showed this kind of earnestness in the classroom. I was never happy in that job even though I was paid.
But here, I am just a volunteer working without any incentives and I am 'happy'.

Current read...

I have just finished reading the third part of the Shiva trilogy. I was not very impressed but the climax of the story stirred me greatly. I never expected it to take such a turn or I would say I 'didn't' want the story to take such turn. Finally, because of the unexpected twist of tale I had to like the book and Amish's way of telling stories.

"He thought of all the living species that train their young in the art of survival, the cat who teach their kittens to hunt, the birds who spend such strident effort on teaching their fledglings to fly- yet man, whose tool of survival is the mind, does not merely fail to teach a child to think, but devotes the child's education to the purpose of destroying his brain, of convincing him that thought is futile and evil, before he has started to think.

From the first catch-phrases flung at a child to the last, it is like a series of shocks to freeze his motor, to undercut the power of his consciousness. "Don't ask so many questions, children should be seen and not heard"! "Don't argue, obey!" "Don't try to understand, believe!" "Don't rebel, adjust"! "Don't stand out, belong!" " Don't struggle, compromise"!"

Once again, from Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged.

"She planted a few seeds; she had started without conscious intention, but she saw it growing under her hands, pulling her forward, giving her a healing sense of peace. Then she understood that what she needed was the motion to a purpose, no matter how small or in what form, the sense of an activity going step by step to some chosen end across a span of time. The work of cooking a meal was like a closed circle, completed and gone, leading nowhere."

(From Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged)

Atlas Shrugged

I am currently reading Ayn Rand's 'Atlas Shrugged'.
She is such a powerful writer and I love reading her books.
But, to write an opinion about them is always intriguing.
I take-in so such when I read them but have always been left with very few words to write about. It's a difficult job.

I have read her 'Fountainhead'. I was confused, initially, as I was still an amateur reader then:)
I read it again and found out the full depth of it.

Now, it's Atlas Shrugged. In both she has portrayed such dynamic characters.
'Roark' and 'Rearden'- thought to be selfish by the whole world but they are confident about their goal and they take the courage to stand against the whole world to uphold their identity.

One quality that Ayn Rand's book highlight is that of 'Human Ability' which can perform almost anything and the 'hard work' needed to showcase that ability.

Though I have not completed the book, I felt I should write about it.
The font size and number of pages (which is over a thousand)are the only hurdles that are making me read it very slowly:(

Recitation

I have been browsing the net from afternoon for children's poems as I have to prepare A for her recitation competition.

Every where the results seemed to be same 'Nursery Rhymes'. Other than rhymes I could hardly find anything.

Then I changed the search option to particular poets and I was pleased to find the kind of material that I wanted.

I couldn't stop sharing these two recitals as I enjoyed listening to them....

Make room for Elephants

I know the world's a crowded place,
And elephants do take up space,
But if it makes a difference, Lord,
I would gladly share me room and board.
A baby elephant would do,
But, if he brings his mother too,
There's dad's garage. He wouldn't mind.
To elephants he's more than kind,
But I wonder what our Mum would say,
If the elephant's father came to stay!

By Ruskin Bond

Someone

Some one came knocking
At my wee, small door;
Someone came knocking;
I'm sure-sure-sure;
I listened, I opened,
I looked to left and right,
But nought there was a stirring
In the still dark night;
Only the busy beetle
Tap-tapping in the wall,
Only from the forest
The screech-owl's call,
Only the cricket whistling
While the dewdrops fall,
So I know not who came knocking,
At all, at all, at all.

By Walter de la mare

Secret of the Nagas

It’s true that Amish’s book compels its reader to pick the next book from his trilogy as one completes reading the present book. He unveils the deepest and darkest secrets of his characters yet withholding an important element from the story only to be revealed in his next series.

I wouldn’t say I liked his Immortals of the Meluha thoroughly but it’s quite a good read.
His second book of the Shiva Trilogy-The Secret of the Nagas, starts with a dull note though it takes new twists and turns in the second half. It is, thus, fast paced than the first half and keeps the reader glued to it.

Unfortunately, I have not laid my hands on ‘Oath of the Vayuputras’ which I intend to do very soon.

The Immortals of Meluha

I finished reading 'The Immortals of Meluha' quite some time back but never had the chance to write about it.
It's not a great book. Nevertheless, there are few instances which make the book worth reading.
I had picked up this up book from a book fair just by sheer accident and it became my companion during my commute from home to work (not to forget the travelling time from home to work was just 20 minutes).

The major reason that drew me read the book was that it was a fiction interwoven around mythological characters.
Such encounters in the past had proved to be really fruitful especially S.L. Bhyrappa's "Parva".

An appealing factor about the story is Amish's way of explaining practices of age old days which can easily be compared to the modern day amenities.
The Meluhan way of town planning, drainage maintanance, hygiene management, scientific researches, the use of mirrors (in the manner of copper plates) and soap for bathing (cake like substance)has been introduced in a simple way whose connection can be drawn to the present day usages.

There is one part where he mentions about Lord Ram's idea of an ideal society (Rama Rajya)which should have both 'stability' and 'flexibility'.
He says- "Stability allows a person the freedom of choice. People can pursue their dreams only when they are living in a society where survival is not a daily threat. In a society without security and stability, there are no intellectuals or artists or geniuses. man is constantly in fight or flight mode. Where is the luxury then to allow ideas to be nurtured or dreams to be pursued?
That is the way all humans were before formed societies. Civilisation is very fragile. All it takes is a few decades o chaos to forget humanity and turn into animals'.

But allowing people to achieving their potential causes instability too, partially. People are happy when their life changes for the better. But there are situations in which change can lead to chaos.
When people face a change imposed by others which they cannot understand, they resist it as it happens too fast. And too rapid a change causes instability.

That is the bedrock of Ram's way of life. There are laws which help a society change slowly and allow it to remain stable. At the same time, it allows its citizens the freedom to follow their dreams".

Adventures of Rusty

I was just flipping through the pages of the Kannada translation of Rusty's Adventures and found these beautiful sketches by Suddhasatva Basu.

Here are few images...

A single night....

One more short story by Rabindranath Tagore...A single night.

I liked this ONE particular part...

"I had no doubt that it would soon become necessary for me to lay down my life for my country.

My father passed away, so I quit college and got a job as an assistant master at a school. I told myself I had found the right sort of work. My guidance and encouragement would raise each pupil to be a leader of the new India.

I started work. I found that the coming exam was much more demanding than the new India. The head master objected if I breathed a single word to the pupils outside grammar and algebra. In a couple of months my enthusiasm had faded away. I became one of those dull individualswho sits and broods when he is at home; who, when working, shoulders his plough with his head bowed, whipped from behind, meekly breaking up earth; content at night to stuff his belly with cattle -fodder; noenergy or enterprise in him at all".

A similar situation that I am facing at work. Let alone bringing a change in the student, managing the documentation of what has 'NOT' been achieved is a big job which I have been doing from past eight months!!!

It's frustrating to be surrounded by students who have been brought up people who do not know what to do with their money, by authorities who assume that their subordinates would anything for an appraisal and money.

I have been arranging my new book shelf...with old novels, with cute little animal creatures, with some handmade paper 'Thank you' notes (which I received recently).

It's a good feeling to see all my books lined up again. They have their own corner now.
I always wanted to have that cozy corner for my books.

Today being a lazy day, I caught hold of one of my old literature books: The Poet's Pen (a collection of poems by so many versatile poets). I have been flipping through the pages, reading a few poems, reading about poets... Robert Browning, John Donne, Wordsworth, Milton, John Keats almost evrybody's poems can be found in the book. Though my literature quotient has really gone down these days, I liked the feeling of going back to college days and attending literature classes.

Book, Nature, Nostalgia...

Tagore's Omnibus IV still lies on my table only half-read.

I read it every afternoon when A goes to sleep and after I am done with semi-finished household work. No sooner do I read a few lines than it's time for A to get disturbed and wake up.
I hurriedly close the book, run towards her, offer my arms to her to go back to sleep. After 10 mins. when she is back in her dreamy world I stealthily withdraw my hands and resume my position to read again (though with lot of apprehension as to when she will get up next).

Today's read said:"When are you coming down from your three-storeyed building to meet your love (love of nature) under the shade of trees?"

"When are you coming down to meet me on the green grass under the rustling leaves, where you have the freedom of the sky and of sunlight and the tender touch of life's simplicity."

As I read these lines, I stop and recall the days I was in Mysore's University Fine arts campus attending NCC camp (though it was years ago). I have a hazy picture of the whole campus- the rooms we shared, the greenery, the low-lying branches of various trees just outside our room. But what I recollect the most is the way we all slept under the trees after our heavy work out and during lunch break.
The cool breeze would touch our sweaty body only to make us feel cold and soothing. The nap wouldn't last for more than 30 minutes yet it rejuvenated us all for the next session of rigorous parade.

Those were the naps which I will miss forever.

About Self and Individuality...

...by Rabindranath Tagore

"At one pole of my being I am one with stocks and stones. There I have to acknowledge the rule of universal law. That is where the foundation of my existence lies, deep down below. Its strength lies in its being held firm in the clasp of the comprehensive world., and in the fullness of its community with all things.

But at the other pole of my being I am separate from all. There I have broken through the cordon of equality and stand alone as an individual. I am absolutely unique, I am I, I am incomparable. The whole weight of the universe cannot crush out this individuality of mine. I maintain it in spite of the tremendous gravitation of all things. It is small in appearance but great in reality. For it holds its own against the forces that would rob it of its distinction and make it one with the dust.

This is the superstructure of the self which rises from the indeterminate depth and darkness of its foundation into the open, proud of its isolation, proud of having given shape to a single individual idea of the architect's which has no duplicate in the whole universe. If this individuality be demolished then though no material be lost, not an atom destroyed the creative joy which was crystallised therein gone. We are absolutely bankrupt if we are deprived of this speciality, this individuality, which is the only thing we can call our own; and which, if lost, is also a loss to the whole world...."


P.S: Take time and patience to read this.

Rabindranath Tagore

First time I have laid hands on Tagore's book- Omnibus IV, a collection of short stories, writings of the Upanishad and a few poems of Kabir.

I completed reading the first story: Two sisters. The plot is simple, protagonists are simple and social milieu is even more simple. But it carries lot of depth. One, after going through half the story, may easily tell what may happen in the end but Tagore gives his own direction to the characters so none is portrayed in a negative manner and everybody is a hero.

Reading something on Upanishads is my first attempt and I do know I am wandering here and there. May be I will improve in the coming chapters:)

Just a few lines of the part from Upanishad:

"Children, when they begin to learn each separate letter of the alphabet, find no pleasure in it, because they miss the real purpose of the lesson; in fact, while letters claim our attention only in themselves and as isolated things, they fatigue us. They become a source of joy to us only when they combine into words and sentences and convey an idea.

Likewise, our soul when detached and imprisoned within the narrow limits of a self loses its significance. For its very essence is unity. It can only find out its truth by unifying itself with others".

Memories

I just finished reading the review about this book 'Moonwalking with Einstein' by Joshua Foer (a science journalist) who trained his memory and won the U.S Memory Championship.
And it seems like a very good one.

In one of the interviews when asked (which i really think is true):

'What is the connection between memory and our sense of time?'

He says, 'As we get older, life seems to fly by faster and faster. That's because we structure our experience of time around memories. We remember events in relation to other events. But as we get older, and our experiences become less unique, our memories can blend together. If yesterday's lunch is indistinguishable from the one you ate the day before, it'll end up being forgotten. That's why it's so hard to remember meals. In the same way, if you're not doing things that are unique and different and memorable, this year can come to resemble the last, and end up being just as forgettable as yesterday's lunch. That's why it's so important to pack your life with interesting experiences that make your life memorable, and provide a texture to the passage of time'.

Panna

Panna is a book,a fairy- tale meant for children. But, the moment I saw the book I was taken by the beautiful drawings inside it which I later learnt is Madhubani folk art.
It's written by Kamala Das who is a poet and this book is her first attempt in writing children's book.

"Panna lives on the seaside with her brother Moti, a fisherman. One day, while waiting for Moti to return from the high seas with his catch of fish, Panna falls asleep. When she wakes up, she finds she has magically reached the land under the sea. And what a wonderful land it is, with its pearl-lined streets, coral houses and green moving sky. Here she meets the Fish King and Fish Queen. But becomes of poor Moti when he returns from the sea and finds his beloved sister gone?"

This being the story, children would certainly enjoy reading it as did I.

To kill a mocking bird

I must admit that I started reading this book because of Mouna's suggestion and I am glad I read it.
I read it twice- the first time I was forced to give away the book to the library when I had almost finished it. So had to borrow it the second time. So as not miss the link I started it from the beginning and it was good as things gave much more meaning to me when I read it the second time.
There were several instances where I would laugh loudly at all the adventures of Jem, Scout and Dill (especially the Boo Radley incident) and would look up to see if someone is watching me laughing like that.

One can relive their childhood days while reading this book.

I think it's not just the humor that bound me with the characters but the intricacies with which they teach the simple lessons of life, of adulthood and growing up.

The little episodes of Boo Radley; fire at Ms. Maudie's; Jem and Scout's encounter with Mrs. Dubose; Atticus shooting at the mad dog; Dill's running away; the case of Tom Robinson and at the end Boo Radley saving the children from Mr. Ewell; all carry such good messages with a touch of humor.

I really enjoyed reading the book.

The Act of Smiling

A few years ago I happened to read this book called 'Phantoms in the Brain' by Dr. V. S. Ramachandran. He said there are two different circuits for the act of smiling. 'When you see a friend you grin. But, when the same Friend aims a camera at your face and asks you to smile you fail to do so. Instead of a natural expression, you produce a hideous grimace.

The reason these two kinds of smiles differ is that different brain regions handle them and only one of them contains a specialised "smile circuit". A spontaneous smile is produced by the basal ganglia. When you encounter a friendly face, the visual message from that face eventually reaches the brains emotional center or limbic system and is subsequently relayed to the basal ganglia, which orchestrate the sequences of facial muscle activity needed for producing a natural smile. These entire cascade of events happen in a fraction of a second without the thinking parts of your cortex ever being involved.

But when someone asks you to smile, the verbal instruction from the photographer is received and understood by the higher thinking centers in the brain, including the auditory cortex and language centers. From there it is relayed to the motor cortex in the front of the brain, which specialises in producing voluntary skilled movements'.

So when you smile next time at your friend and at the camera remember the work that our brain carries out.

The Namesake

Already having watched the movie, there was little room left for my imagination of characters of the book 'The Namesake' by Jhumpa Lahiri. The two characters- Ashima and Ashoke were represented (for me) by Tabu and Irfan Khan. Nevertheless I wanted to read the book. As with the movie, I liked the book too. Lahiri's narration is impressive and it maintains reader's atttention throughout.
The story which revolves around the name of a Russian writer 'Gogol' carried me to the many books by Russian writers- Dostoesky's Crime and Punishment, Tolstoy's Anna Karenina', Chekov's The Cherry Orchard and of course The Overcoat by Gogol himself.
Almost all the protagonists of these Russian authors wear a gloomy appearance, their stories are tragic, they speak of hardships of Russian citizens which is either forced upon them by the governmental policies or by themselves.
Talking of Nikolai Gogol, I studied The overcoat as a literature student but then I seldom ejoyed either the story or the person who taught the story. Or may be beacuse of the way the story was told made it all uninteresting.
Though I disliked reading The Overcoat, there are few scenes which still linger in my memory. The story of Akaky Akakyevich who earns a meager salary as a clerk loses his only overcoat which protects him against all the hard climatic conditions. His struggle to save few pennys to buy a new overcoat is touching. His walking on tip- toes to save his shoes from wearing out, his struggle through the dark hours to save his candle- all speak of his sacrifices in order to save money for the new coat.
Keeping this name- Gogol in the background, the story of The Namesake progresses well to expalin the yearning and nostalgia which both Ashima and Ashoke have for their motherland. But in the end, how Ashima finds it disheartening to leave a foreign nation also a truth. That was the land whre she formed new memories, where she saw her children grow. But most importantly, that's where she lived with her Ashoke for so many years.
Some of the excerpts from the book goes somewhat like these:
"...pack a pillow and a blanket and see as much of the world as you can. You will never regret it. One day it will be too late.
My grandfather always says that's what books are for,... to travel without moving an inch."
"Finally, they stood by the lighthouse, exhausted...He heard his father cry out- they had left the camera with his mother. 'All this way and no picture', he'd said. we will have to remember it then."
"The man who gave you his name, from the man who gave you your name."