Sunrise

When I asked for the usual room in the farthest corner of the top floor, the receptionist at the hotel gave me a strange look. Would he have understood if I had told him about how much I love that room for lending me an enchanting view of the sky?!

From the magical dawns to the melancholic dusks, from having the sunlight flood the room in abundance to falling asleep watching the stars wake up in the skies, would he have understood all those blissful passions of mine?! 💓😊

Book Review – Baat Niklegi Toh Phir, Sathya Saran

The year was 1999. It was a rainy day and a teenager in his final year of college - and also in teens - was watching M-TV. The song being played was ‘Hosh walon ko kabar kya’ from the movie ‘Sarfarosh’. There was some deep magic in the voice of that singer. Mesmerized by it, and driven by the trademark impulsiveness of youth, the teenager headed out in the pouring rain to buy the audio cassette of that movie. Impatient to wait till returning home, he stopped at the auto stand on the way and asked a friend of his there to help him listen to that song once. Little would have that teenager imagined then that the same voice would heal his heart, soothe his soul, protect him from the real world around after half-a-decade, when unfulfilled Love - that inevitable bane of youth – would rip his heart into shreds. The teenager was, of course, me and the owner of that magical voice was none other than the great Jagjit Singh!

Jagjit Singh – show me a man who loves ghazals but hasn’t heard of this name and I would show you the eighth wonder of the world. A name that has become synonymous with ghazals in India, Jagjit sahib rules the hearts of millions of his fans, even many years after his sudden demise.

In life, I have quite a lot of regrets, but there are very few that I would carry to the pyre. Not having listened to this great exponent of the ghazal genre performing ‘live’ is definitely on top of that little list. The only time when we were both in the same city, I was too lazy to cross the vast expanse in that intense Sunday evening traffic. I convinced myself saying that I would listen to him during his next visit here. Little did I know then that it was never to happen. A few months later, he passed away, suddenly and as a shocker to millions of his fans. Today his voice is a permanent thing in my music player, protecting me still from the realities of this human life, soothing my wounds and helping me put to rest some old demons that come haunting often.

About the book, have you seen how fans of movie stars and celebrities make all the efforts to get in proximity with their favorite stars - to see them from close quarters, to touch them and check whether they are real or made of shiny stardust? This book gives you one such experience taking you up close to the gentle giant called Jagjit Singh. This biography is so far the biggest tribute to this great singer. Smooth, flowing and gentle like the man himself, the book maps the journey of his life from his humble beginning to the calm end that took him away from us all in 2011. Reading about the amount of struggle that Jagjit sahib went through makes me wonder as to why should this book not be added to the self-improvement genre too! Running from pillar to post seeking a chance to sing in the movies, traveling without ticket in the trains, depending on the generosity of others for even food and shelter – this great man had gone through it all before attaining a stardom that he very much deserved.

The book also traces his married life with Chitra Singh, another star in the Indian ghazal scene, their companionship both in front of the mike and away from it, the unfortunate loss of their son Vivek to a fatal accident and their different ways of coping with that loss. One unfortunate thing is that after reading through some statements of Chitra Singh, I felt my respect for her fall a couple of notches. She may have been a great singer, but some of her behaviors and statements make her appear a very ordinary woman with jealousy, nagging and mundane ideas. Jagjit sahib, on the contrary though, has gained an even higher place in my heart. Not just because he was a great singer, but he was also a generous philanthropist, never denying assistance to those that came to him in need.
 

There is one amusing quality attributed to da Vinci’s ‘Mona Lisa’. It is said that she reflects the mood of the viewer – if you are sad, she will seem sad, and if you are happy, she will appear happy too. I haven’t tested that theory seriously yet, but I have felt that strange quality in the voice of Jagjit sahib. If you listen to him with pain in your heart, the heavy bass voice will not only accentuate that pain but end up wringing tears out of you. Be happy and that gifted voice can raise you even further. The man was sheer magic.

In his magnum opus ‘Man’s Search for Meaning’, Viktor Frankl mentions art as one of the ways in which a man can create meaning for his life. Jagjit sahib has created profound meaning for his life by single-handedly reviving the dying art of ghazal, making it accessible and understandable to the public, without reducing its qualities in any way whatsoever for the sake of commercialization and popularization. If many uninformed music lovers like me developed a liking for the elevated genre like ghazal, it was definitely due to this one man and the history will stand testimony to that.

Feeling bad that I could give only five stars to this book. A classic that any Jagjit fan worth his salt should read and own! ❤️

Book Review – Autumn Moon, Gulzar

Well, this is yet another English translation of the poems of great Gulzar. That alone – almost - justifies the 5-star rating. There are few poets in the Indian poetry scene today that can weave a poem out of even the seemingly mundane and banal things. Be it a single leaf perched precariously on a branch, or a deserted road, a sliver of moon or a still lake, there is nothing in the world that Gulzar cannot write beautifully about. That alone can justify my prejudiced decision to rate the book with a 5-star rating, even before my opening the cover.

However, this book deserves a five-star rating just for being the work of Gulzar, and not for the efforts of J.P.Das, the translator. The first time I read the poetry of Gulzar was through the translations of Pavan K.Varma, a master translator. I have gone through the translations by Nirupama Dutt and Rina Singh too, but the translations of Pavan K.Varma clearly stand out. Not just for the reason of his being the first works I read, but also for the quality of the translations.

The role of a translator is in no way to second to that of the author. Translating a literary work from one language to another is not just about swapping words, but also ensuring that the spirit of the letters is not lost in the process. Few people can do it with flair. Not just in making you love the poem, but also in stoking your interest to the extent of your wanting to read the originals by yourself and relish the same without an intermediary. Pavan Varma stands streets ahead of the others. This translation feels so insipid and routine when compared to his translations.

Again, they are all poems that are present in all the other previous translations too, and hence, there is nothing much new in terms of content as well. But, as I already said, this is a collection of poems by Gulzar and that alone is a reason good enough for 5-star rating. If you want to seriously indulge in Gulzar’s poetry, pick either ‘Selected Poems’ or ‘Neglected Poems’, both being the translations by Pavan Varma.

This Dawn's Epiphany

After spending another night of my life in train, I woke up early to watch the sunrise as is my wont when I travel this route. The dawn was lovely, without doubt. The pale grayish blue of the East turning into pink and purple, only to shed them quickly and change into shining hues of saffron and gold. It was a happy sunrise as always, but it felt just like any other sunrise.

When I thought about what was lacking, what was amiss, I realised that the sky was without clouds. But for a few wisps here and there, the horizon looked as barren as a stretch of desert.

That's when I realised something - hurdles and challenges don't mar your life but make it worthwhile. Just as the Sun looks far more glorious and grandiose when He shines through the clouds, letting His light spread through the gaps, with even the darkness of the clouds starting to reflect His golden glow, making it an all the more majestic and mesmerizing arrival, our lives too need 'clouds' to gain glory and happiness.

Going through the challenges of human life without giving up, treading bravely through the darkness, determined to press on no matter how glum the days may presently be, not being bogged by the obstacles but using them as opportunities to gather even more glories - isn't that what our frail human lives are all about?!

Success feels far sweeter when achieved after a long struggle; love turns more passionate when opposed; and, peace seems ethereal after a prolonged period of suffering.

Let the pains, challenges and obstacles in our lives be like those clouds - passing, flimsy and, more importantly, opportunities that make us shine even more grandiosely. Just as those dark clouds turn dazzling in the Sun's heavenly splendor, may our troubles and battles turn into glorious tales for us all to recall with a pleasant sense of nostalgia as we arrive at the Western horizon of our worthy lives.

Wishing you all love and peace!

Book Review – She : Ekla Cholo Re, Santhosh Avvannavar

When the author asked me to review his work, I told him that I can do so only if I am given the freedom to review it honestly and he agreed, thankfully. So, here it is, my honest review.

Just imagine giving a birthday gift to your friend or, keeping with the trend of this week, a Valentine’s Day gift to your loved one. No matter how precious the gift may be, presentation is something that you will consider equally important. You will not handover a costly shirt wrapped in a gunny bag or pack that precious diamond ring in a cheap plastic box. You will ensure that the container of that gift is equally, if not more, attractive as the gift. That’s called presentation and sadly, that is exactly what is lacking in this book.

The gift here is the awareness of the plight of the third-gender and the pressing need to treat them as equals. It’s indeed a lofty idea, worthy of appreciation. Till I read this book, I didn’t even bother to learn whether such literature exists in the country. Kudos to the author for showing me a new direction and stoking in me a curiosity to learn about those pitiable souls that walk the streets, clapping their hands and asking for money from all and sundry.
 

But nothing else is worthwhile about this book apart from that idea. Poor language, melodramatic writing style and illogical statements all come together to mar what could have been a really good book. It is surprising that this book was authored by two people and also edited by another person (said to be an avid blogger). A flurry of grammatical errors will make any serious reader squirm. The punctuations are even worse. Either the authors these days don’t go through their drafts for the second time or there is a dearth of quality editors.
 

This is the plot – the protagonist offers lift to a good-looking woman during one of his evening rides. That woman turns out to be a transgender person, who is on the rebound. She recounts the pains inflicted by love and lack of understanding from the people around. There is nothing novel about her ‘love’. There is not much in the tale that could make you feel deeply for her. The writing style depicts the emotion at best as ordinary infatuation. The tale takes the routine path of betrayal by the other person, our heroine’s attempt at studying and getting a small job. Predictably, the protagonist shows emotions of kindness towards that transgender person and the tale ends by showing that protagonist is the author whom the woman has been quoting all along. Really?! The transgender persons have much worse challenges in life than mere ‘love failure’.
 

Logic is the next casualty. Some of the lines will make your head reel by being as ambiguous as only they can be. Consider these two lines just for a sample – 1) 'People were often perplexed about my gender - some said that since the child is soft, she must be a girl while others felt that I am a boy.' (Really?! A child is born and people are not able to determine its gender?!) 2) 'Strangers often don't meet in life.' (What the?! Whatever the author wanted to convey here is clearly not what he has conveyed.)
 

What could have been a worthy attempt is marred by melodramatic thinking, poor writing style and poorer editing. Only thing that I could take away from this book is the desire to learn about the state of transgender persons in our country. Thanks to the author for that.

Book Review – Into The Wild, Jon Krakauer

“Youth is wasted on the Young!”
- The great GB Shaw opined thus. ‘Into The Wild’ is the tale of a young man on whom youth was wasted. Wasted but not thrown away.

Christopher Walt McCandless was a young man that went into the Alaskan wild, leaving his parents and siblings behind, donating all his savings, abandoning his car, possessions and even burning whatever little money he had in his wallet, thus shaking away the shackles of financial security. He went away from the human civilization not because he was a glum recluse or a misanthropist. He was just one of those innumerable youngsters who feel that the answers to the testing questions of Life can be found only far away from Life and not by being in it on a day-to-day basis.

With evidently little preparation but abundant confidence that is the trademark of Youth, Chris headed into the Alaskan wilderness determined to make a living ‘off the land’, by hunting and eating whatever he could gather there, far away from the nearest human being. Little would he have known that this would be his last venture away from his family, because his lifeless body was found in emaciated state, four months after he went in.

There are so many arguments already about whether Chris was right or wrong, wise or foolish and so on and hence I will cut them all out from my review. What stood out for me from this tale were a few things. Chris wasn’t impudent or headstrong. Ask any youngster about what his idea of a wildest adventure is and he will tell you about living untethered. Having had ideas of traveling across the country myself, alone in my bike, I could vouch for the forces that could have pushed Chris onward. Add to that the ideals of authors like Henry David Thoreau and Jack London who happened to be the favorites of Chris, the impressionable young mind of McCandless had all the ingredients to leave on the wild seeking.

Of course, Chris had issues with his parents and their ways of life, as any normal teenager would. His father’s being bigamous aggravated things a lot too. But it didn’t make Chris a bitter person. As everyone who met Chris during his self-imposed exile would vouch for, Chris was an intelligent, amiable, ideal and hardworking young man. He wasn’t suicidal, because if he was, he could have simply jumped off a bridge or a cliff. He was just experimental about life in his own way and he wanted to simply relish the freedom of living ‘off the grid’. His notes and the concise journal entries during his last few days of life prove that he never went in there to simply die. As Jon proves beyond doubt, Chris lost his life to food-poisoning and starvation, having been cut off from his return to the safety of civilization by a flooded river.

Jon has done a beautiful job by not completely idolizing Chris. Jon presents the experiences of people who met Chris during his sojourn across North America and none of them have anything negative to tell about Chris. That was not just because he was dead, but because he was indeed good. Jon also shares his own personal experience of being stuck in a cold cliff during his own arrogant attempt to scale a peak, as a result of which he could relate with Chris easily.

This is a simple and beautiful book for anyone that loves questions of an existential nature. You may love Chris or hate him for the waste of a young life, but you cannot deny the fact that each and every one of us has a ‘Chris’ inside. Some of us have managed to smother ‘him’ by heaping our day-to-day responsibilities and concerns atop, but all of us have a Chris straining at the leash, wanting to run far, very far away from all this maddening crowd of life!

A Kindred Spirit

A kindred spirit need not always be a human being. It could be a book that holds thoughts similar to yours or even a tree that feels so familiar to you. Just as I found this little guy during the morning walk.

Shivering in the cold, scared of the vast world in front of him, lonely, cowering in a corner, awaiting who knows who's arrival, this puny little mongrel pup made me feel as if I was looking at my canine counterpart. <3