Grimus in the morning

“He was the leopard who changed his spots; he was the worm that turned. He was the shifting sands and the ebbing tide. He was moody as the sky, circular as the seasons, nameless as glass. He was chameleon, changeling, all things to all men and nothing to any man."

From ‘Grimus’ 

Different!

While having lunch at work, we started to discuss hobbies… few other females joined in. Larger part of the group said they can go around spending spades of time in shopping. They said if left in the shopping mall from morning to evening, they can tirelessly choose and reject dresses, jewellery and et al. Other common hobby was cooking. They said they love to cook and experiment with dishes. Then came watching TV, particularly serials and reality show but no one to my dismay, said anything about reading or writing or any other supposedly time consuming and rhetorical activity…

I recalled my old days and thought how everybody would look at me when I told them that my favourite author is Salman Rushdie. Back in college, when everybody went gaga over the work of Chetan Bhagat, I hated his book. When asked I told them Bhagat is not an author but story teller and his story doesn’t amuse me. I was smirked at and looked at in disbelief. I realized few appreciate beauty of poetic, long-winded, beautiful and articulately written sentences. I also recognized there will be handful who will understand that Mr Rushdie doesn’t narrate stories, he writes and he writes adroitly. I was an exception in my group for not just liking but adoring his work.

I also realized that I never liked dresses which looked like fluffy puddings, whenever I went to select a dress for my Fresher’s, Farewell and et al parties. I could never like the piles of outfits, which were supposedly “in” and ended up wearing jeans and sweatshirts since I didn’t like the glossy and fluffy party wear. Same went with the high-heeled monstrous sandals, which I could never apparel myself with. I wore my usual flats, much to the dismay of fashion police. The only saving grace perhaps was that I was never, ever hideously dressed.

So after these contemplations, I realized that I am part of the minority group. I like reading and especially reading Rushdie’s work, I prefer talking to people than spending time in the malls looking for ‘God knows what’, I also feel the best phase of life is not ‘school/college days’ but my days with V post marriage. I also feel any road to peak of success is paved with sacrifices and regrets and I am up for none.

Hail minorities!

Today I thought of Rand again!

I read something while at work today and it reminded me of Ayn Rand…

I realized that no other author has gathered enough grit and confidence to write that we are selfish and being selfish is not a crime. I remembered how I loved these from her books:

“I swear by my life, and my love of it, that I’ll never live for the sake of other man, nor ask another man to live for mine.”

And I also went through her book to find another excerpt which I have loved dearly:

When you see a man casting pearls without getting pork chops in return – it is not against the swine that you feel indignation. It is against the man who valued his pearls so little that he was ready to fling them into the muck and let them become the occasion for a whole concert of grunting.

Happy reading to Rand’s fans!

Paddling my own canoe

Last Sunday was fun. I went out with bhai, had a hearty meal at ‘Urban Tadka’. Went to Crosswords, and bought few books. While browsing through the books and reading a few paragraphs from few I realized I am subliminally drawn to SR or Salman Rushdie’s books. I read a lot of books written by him and have thoroughly enjoyed every time I read anything written by him, even if it is a small newspaper column. V doesn’t like SR. He argues that SR’s book lacks content and he just writes longwinded paragraphs, dense phrases and idioms. He doesn’t write about anything, he just writes complicated English. I on the other hand do not agree at all. SR is one of the few things V & I are not on the same page with. I often tell him that saying “SR is not a good author” is like saying the water is not wet.

This time I bought two children’s books which SR wrote. I have started reading ‘Haroun and the Sea of Stories’ and loving it. The ruins of an old city, the allegorical description in the book and the character of young Haroun spews delight.

I also bought ‘Luka and the Fire of Life’, another children’s book by SR and a Lauren Weisberger’s book for guilty pleasure. I love her books also. She writes glamorous books which are ridiculously irresistible. The protagonist has a shiny, glossy, manicured life and carries a quilted leather bag. She wears posh outfits and returns to her musty apartment. She longs for love, wants to create a niche, sometimes feels energized and other times is enervated. She is wild, weird, naïve, juvenile and demented. We find ourselves in some or whole parts of the tale!

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Yesterday I was again alone after two weeks. Bhai left for Nagpur and I came back to my empty apartment again. I closed the door behind me still talking to Ma and assuring her that all is well. Bhai called several times to just chat and I really missed him. Yesterday Dad and I also chatted for long. My Ma & Pa-in law also called to check on me and the telephonic-conversation went on for an hour. I changed, washed and ate while chatting with them. It was 10 in the night when I finally asked my Ma-in law to hang up, take rest and assured I will be fine. I was exhausted. I touched my forehead and felt my palpitations were quivering like some sea animal. I went to my bedroom, changed the sheets, switched on the AC and took this month’s Reader’s digest and read till V pinged, we Skyped for some time. I told him how much I missed him.

I read Reader’s digest and fell asleep while reading something on parental trap with the book in my hand. There was some loud, scratchy song which was playing last night. At half past 12 it stopped, I think then I started to fall asleep. Some pigeons dashed against the Ac at 4 (maybe) and I was jolted with the loud noise. I got up and saw I had some more time to sleep, so switched off  the lights and slept till my maid rang the doorbell at 7.30
You can get tired doing nothing also!