tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-322859492024-03-13T09:30:10.626-07:00Truth is stranger than fictionWhirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.comBlogger604125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-91839003093925945902022-03-18T22:45:00.003-07:002022-03-18T22:45:50.912-07:00I am a Rock believer<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieiZv-7tReWWlGy0YW4-MqLrEBmhNRje46pcYk2ikCySRNnkm00CKxEDvFnkkInv_pY7ihWSl-UNoxeeQB8VyBIxjSxSozGS_wp2y4wgAXFnSIok4ciUGdYgKgdvtU3mAPiQSpPXfiWLNtM_HCY647K2BVW2oSRxf4ag-0-A2ohK-u7r9Tgx8/s695/unnamed-605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="695" data-original-width="602" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieiZv-7tReWWlGy0YW4-MqLrEBmhNRje46pcYk2ikCySRNnkm00CKxEDvFnkkInv_pY7ihWSl-UNoxeeQB8VyBIxjSxSozGS_wp2y4wgAXFnSIok4ciUGdYgKgdvtU3mAPiQSpPXfiWLNtM_HCY647K2BVW2oSRxf4ag-0-A2ohK-u7r9Tgx8/s320/unnamed-605.jpg" width="277" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">When you know where you come from<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">You back down for no one<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Just be true to yourself, it's your life. <img alt="🎵" height="72" src="blob:https://www.blogger.com/4f3c785a-3c47-4a4a-9cea-3f31aad4715a" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_1" width="72" /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">These are the lyrics of a ballad by rock band Scorpions, featured in their latest album titled Rock Believer. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">This band holds a special place in my heart as I was introduced to rock music through their numbers. I was probably eight or nine years old when I accidentally stumbled upon their audio tape in my parents’ music collection. As a latchkey child, I was mostly accustomed to an empty house. Occasionally the sound of rustling leaves would reverberate inside the apartment. While I enjoyed silence and solitude, I craved a little noise, and often played music in the background while doing my homework. The music ranged from English pop or Indian film music. Back in the 80s numbers from Abba, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Madonna, and Boney M were regular on my playlist. When I was bored of listening to the same numbers, I’d rummage through the shelves looking for something new. It was then I came across Scorpions and Dire straits. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">From the first beat of Rock you like a Hurricane, I was looked. It was love at first sting, (pun intended). Klaus Meine transported me to another world. The synchronized harmony of guitar, drums and the vocalist were mesmerizing. It was like someone cast a spell on me. Hours ticked away, my homework lay unfinished on the desk, and I was reveling in their sting. Something about the voice of Klaus was soothing. There were times it reminded me of the gurgling sound of stream. There were times it was so powerful that it sounded like a thunderstorm. Other times, it reminded me of the sound of waves crashing on the shore. It was distinct. I was hooked. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">Their songs helped me drown other noises that disturbed my psyche. They shielded me from the sound of incessant arguments, door slamming, raised voices, and hysterical sobs over long-distance calls. They comforted me during moments of loneliness inevitable as the only child. They soothed me during times of turmoil when I hit puberty. They made me feel everything would be alright again. They imprinted my heart, they pieced through my soul. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">Over time, I was lured by Dire straits, Queen, Def Leppard, Bryan Adams, Jon Bon Jovi, Pink Floyd, and others. My love for Scorpions remained embedded in my subconscious. Somewhere the wind of change kept blowing inside me. Recently I stumbled upon their latest Album Rock Believer. What a pleasant surprise. I logged on Spotify and the numbers streamed out of my earphones. The voice of Klaus elicited the same reaction. For a while I was transported to my childhood. Only this time, the house wasn’t silent, I wasn’t lonely. However, my turbulent mind needed some clarity. With the spring semester on, my mind has been racing with thoughts about writing, and craft, especially dialogue. I was advised by my doctor, to use this spring break to unwind. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">Out of all the numbers, the ballad from this album struck a chord. The lyrics were beautiful and philosophical. It was exactly what I wanted to hear. The line Just be true to yourself, it’s your life, is just powerful. Lately, I’ve been contemplating about who I really was. Whether I am extrovert, or an introvert. I’ve always liked socializing with people, especially those who were like minded. I am not exactly a fan of those typically narcissistic, loud souls who engage in meaningless conversations. Or the kinds who think they know it all. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">Listening to these words enabled me to do some soul searching. What do I really want? One of the main things I realized while growing up is that one cannot get along with every person on this planet. Your vibe attracts your tribe. Even if I feel like an outlier with the Indian tech crowd in the bay area, or even in my other communities, the important thing is am I being true to myself? Am I mindful of my likes and dislikes or how I want to spend my time? There are days, I don’t feel like thinking about writing/craft. There are days I just want to laze around, stare at the sky and let my mind rest or listen to music. I don’t want to feel pressurized by what the rest are doing. After all its your life as Klaus sings. Thank you, Klaus. Thank you Scorpions for still rocking like a hurricane for over 5 decades. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-49791113354443906042022-03-18T18:22:00.001-07:002022-03-18T18:22:17.664-07:00The Sky is Everywhere: Book Review <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8vbNGQ56G_WSErIEUu3uvK4T4dvtCuCtBsFrAC9zhzEtXqoF6Zwt809vrzn86vArvrJBV7WF3ZIzR4y8dp1xa26ykq37KM7-bnCnfLF2RfKSWEQBjrDkNM79ub3cAdZbq8YlJp4mLbX-b-6K3VAd7q9zhQy_Zjx3zT7W2QP0BoZbIKghxe0/s1500/714kE88auHL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8vbNGQ56G_WSErIEUu3uvK4T4dvtCuCtBsFrAC9zhzEtXqoF6Zwt809vrzn86vArvrJBV7WF3ZIzR4y8dp1xa26ykq37KM7-bnCnfLF2RfKSWEQBjrDkNM79ub3cAdZbq8YlJp4mLbX-b-6K3VAd7q9zhQy_Zjx3zT7W2QP0BoZbIKghxe0/s320/714kE88auHL.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Book Review<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Title: The Sky is Everywhere<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Author: Jandy Nelson<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Genre: Fiction/Young Adult<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> The Sky is Everywhere follows the story of Lennie Walker who is trying to cope up with the sudden demise of her sister. Her grief manifests itself into poems, and little notes that she plants in different places. While Lennie is grappling with her loss, and trying to find her footing, she gets into a relationship with her late sister’s fiancée. At the same time, there is Joe who helps Lennie find solace in music. As the story progresses, Lennie discovers aspects of her sister that she never knew and feels distant from her. The book goes on to reveal Lennie handling complex dynamics, and her palatable grief. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Narrated in first person from the point of view of Lennie, readers are treated to the interiority of her torrid emotions. The writing is lucid and poetic, giving it a certain rhythm and cadence. This rhythm is found in the dialogues which is the strongest point in the book. Whether it’s the rapidity in the exchange between Lennie and her friend, or the smooth flow between Lennie and Joe in their first interaction. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">The author inserts some interesting imagery like the spotted plant and the forest bedroom. This lends well to some of the quirky characters like Lennie’s grandmother and uncle Big. While the characterization of Lennie was sketched well, I personally did not agree with her relationship with two guys at the same time. As the line in the book says, grief makes you do the strangest things, its interesting how the author has explored how different people handle grief. The character of Joe is someone you’ll easily fall in love with. The book also touches upon themes of family, parenting, healing, and forgiveness. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">While its classified as a YA novel, the universal themes will tend to resonate with readers of all age groups. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-38610780741811380572022-03-17T20:39:00.002-07:002022-03-17T20:39:24.291-07:00Book Review: The Lost Daughter<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioumk4bkX9X9t6RNLVNO129bWrLlqaoX-6NssMi4OKpkEBf4KIEKuN9jKPR1sNRD48rvMbrmnbacSGLvT_L0pdEBwvWkqfNr5UmLCmYNJGw49LFoxF3cOliZEVOU6tOndWTWln9d1Sm0xltWST1MS_xhXfHF6rSPCOSdWoEnqrKYNdMBZzLkQ/s400/1058564-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="256" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioumk4bkX9X9t6RNLVNO129bWrLlqaoX-6NssMi4OKpkEBf4KIEKuN9jKPR1sNRD48rvMbrmnbacSGLvT_L0pdEBwvWkqfNr5UmLCmYNJGw49LFoxF3cOliZEVOU6tOndWTWln9d1Sm0xltWST1MS_xhXfHF6rSPCOSdWoEnqrKYNdMBZzLkQ/s320/1058564-2.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Book Review</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Title: The Lost Daughter<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Author: Elena Ferrante<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Genre: Fiction/Translation (Italian)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">The Lost Daughter traces the story of Leda, a divorced woman, long separated from her grown up daughters who takes up a summer rental at a beach. On the beach, she observes a family that catches her fancy. There is Nina, her daughter Elena, and a doll they both play with. When Elena goes missing, Leda helps in finding her but later steals her doll. This triggers a series of questions about Leda’s reasons for doing something so inexplicable. Was it her way of clinging on to memories, or an unresolved childhood problem?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Written in first person from the point of view of Leda, the readers are taken deep into her interiority. Through her eyes, we observe intricate details about people and the place around her. What makes it interesting is the several layers in her characterization and plot. As we delve deeper, we hear about Leda’s confession to a group of strangers about her past, abandoning her two daughters, and an affair with a professor. Strangely Leda feels a sense of security and peace, as opposed to the bouts of loneliness as expected out of her. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">But then, Leda isn’t your usual run on the mill character. Having been traumatized in her childhood, Leda carries the scars from the past. The story explores the dynamics of relationships and the element of freedom vs responsibilities. While motherhood is a largely explored theme, the book also aims to explore the consequences of abandonment, and poor parenting. The author also touches upon the importance of forgiveness and damage. When Leda ultimately returns the doll, it becomes too late to make amends as the damage is irreparable. This is drawn parallels with the relationship with her two daughters. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Deep and impactful. The Lost Daughter is a complex read. With its multitude in layers, it feels like peeling several slices of an onion. </span><o:p></o:p></p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-15273954433636281592022-03-17T20:02:00.001-07:002022-03-17T20:02:44.506-07:00Summary of latest movies seen<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Summary of movies <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Due to my training and semester on in full swing, I haven’t been able to catch up on too many movies as much as I’d have liked to. Nevertheless, managed to watch a few that stood out to me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXw7rwtqUMWMH4XRE2YcjYEJmmjQKKkZHJBuy3ReuPkdWiok59zVwPelatVfi95sSvAK_nv0rkAcWSo99QKPYfKMYd8DAxYMUL1V1PGjjFRwfTT3ogWcX66XlYNK-57uA6FzKo62aMCUkX6hcyWFIaOWOWmbp4oPStMnxirjVc64RQ6OBpzM/s806/unnamed-599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="571" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXw7rwtqUMWMH4XRE2YcjYEJmmjQKKkZHJBuy3ReuPkdWiok59zVwPelatVfi95sSvAK_nv0rkAcWSo99QKPYfKMYd8DAxYMUL1V1PGjjFRwfTT3ogWcX66XlYNK-57uA6FzKo62aMCUkX6hcyWFIaOWOWmbp4oPStMnxirjVc64RQ6OBpzM/s320/unnamed-599.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">My father’s violin</span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">: It chronicles the relationship between a father and daughter who are ardent music lovers. When the father discovers one day about his numbered days, he entrusts his daughter to his estranged brother who is a famous music composer. The story goes on to trace how the little girl attempts to win her uncle’s heart through music. While the movie was in Turkish, there were several aspects that struck a chord. The overall rhythm of the movie lent well to music which is a silent character. Even dialogues between people can be emulated in a tune, as the father tells the daughter. He attempts to play a tune after listening to two people in conversation. Since I’m studying both poetry and dialogue this semester, it’s interesting how such movies help me understand the importance of rhythm, cadence, and musicality in tone of the voices. Another thing that intrigues me about world cinema is how it connects on a human level by touching about universal themes like grief, loss, and healing through music.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXT2xqJGBSXdLQatPxfpdiuJbj3Mxu8RLNBFpv4xwtCEMpX1Tdf_GGG8aHIqVC7WKJDBFqLFZzViCJXebUI0sU4S_ke8E3dA93OlrIOP4ohyNvsfsYzTUDLWmDF9p0oHb1Eb478-S1kfDNfAlcyUzTpwWL-wQCJdwvuJQkkkn-RM-jN5U3QSU/s1020/unnamed-600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1020" data-original-width="686" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXT2xqJGBSXdLQatPxfpdiuJbj3Mxu8RLNBFpv4xwtCEMpX1Tdf_GGG8aHIqVC7WKJDBFqLFZzViCJXebUI0sU4S_ke8E3dA93OlrIOP4ohyNvsfsYzTUDLWmDF9p0oHb1Eb478-S1kfDNfAlcyUzTpwWL-wQCJdwvuJQkkkn-RM-jN5U3QSU/s320/unnamed-600.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Yeh Ballet</span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">: This was recommended to me by a friend. Based on a true story, Yeh Ballet chronicles the journey of two boys from the slums who aspire to become ballet dancers. The story traces through their struggles, fight against religion and conventional norms to fulfil their dreams. When they get an opportunity to train with a visiting American choreographer, their dreams seem to find wings. Together, they brave the several hurdles that come in their way. The story is set in Mumbai and the movie captures a fine blend between Western and Indian cinema. Again, the element of dance brings in the rhythm that I noticed in the dialogues. The coming-of-age theme again makes the audience connect with the film. On a personal note, it was nice to see a movie set in Mumbai. It’s been three years since I last visited. Lately, there have been pangs of home sickness that has led to bouts of mental health issues. I miss my community and there are days when the fight to put on a smile, and a brave face wears me down. There were parts of Yeh Ballet that reminded me of Slumdog Millionaire, though I wasn’t too impressed by the latter. Yeh Ballet had the touch of innocence, and freshness to it. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28iwuAxGcuG5Tu9FMMVykbKBTcIro-sE-fIM9zBNEUf8LaqEhkf45IsHWP8nqRVllxm_yFqBSciGxLZ15ENBxA4Agsw2JzvftOSkMSFwDEfKn_PvcvvJAIFlWpcXExGgYTvWID9VXC7C5-OxGBn7BDQHMDx8c6RsMdGc5-FXzdPGqrkAiISQ/s766/unnamed-601.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="766" data-original-width="612" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28iwuAxGcuG5Tu9FMMVykbKBTcIro-sE-fIM9zBNEUf8LaqEhkf45IsHWP8nqRVllxm_yFqBSciGxLZ15ENBxA4Agsw2JzvftOSkMSFwDEfKn_PvcvvJAIFlWpcXExGgYTvWID9VXC7C5-OxGBn7BDQHMDx8c6RsMdGc5-FXzdPGqrkAiISQ/s320/unnamed-601.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Gangubhai Kathiawadi: </span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Based on a book called <i>Mafia Queens of Mumbai, </i>Gangubhai Kathiawadi, chronicles the journey of a girl named Ganga. Lured by false promises of becoming a film star, Ganga’s fiancée leaves her in a brothel. Dismayed by his betrayal, Gang now becomes Gangubhai, and is left with no choice but to survive. The story traces her friendship with the local mafia, power dynamics, challenges faced as she strives to maintain the dignity and respect of her profession. Gangubhai immerses you into a different world that isn’t visible to the human eye. A world where women are trapped into this profession and have no way out. The first scene appalls the viewer with a fifteen-year-old girl who is made to entertain a male client. Another scene where the lead actress Alia Betrayed by her fiancée, Ganga is left shouting for help behind closed doors in a brothel house. While these instances make the viewers reach out for a box of tissues, there are other moments that make you root for Gangubhai, when she stands up for her profession or fights for her survival. The performances by the lead cast are applause worthy, never a dull moment, and not to mention some of the songs that have a soul to their lyrics. Set in the 1950s, it was an interesting experience to time travel. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilVgIJQFswzuiD9hgq7cGNxRz7NmVujaboW_SGuW7tKBM-KQ2CxGpdAEaTWUcLjGUgzSyyvJwgjWxhSm5es3oMbxlBG5OPLygAT2E4CK0YERyImC1vaDZIXmTf7Ux1sFwWa5lnnkWpgCCBiy9w5OJsm8HClSZp2UwclW8Cvx4XHjp0v00OQyo/s728/unnamed-604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="728" data-original-width="519" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilVgIJQFswzuiD9hgq7cGNxRz7NmVujaboW_SGuW7tKBM-KQ2CxGpdAEaTWUcLjGUgzSyyvJwgjWxhSm5es3oMbxlBG5OPLygAT2E4CK0YERyImC1vaDZIXmTf7Ux1sFwWa5lnnkWpgCCBiy9w5OJsm8HClSZp2UwclW8Cvx4XHjp0v00OQyo/s320/unnamed-604.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">The Sky is Everywhere: </span></b><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">I watched this after reading the book. As they say, the movie can never match up to the book. <i>The Sky is everywhere</i> tells the story of Lennie who has recently lost her older sister. Having grown up without a mother, her sister was all she had, besides her grandmother and uncle Big. Things begin to fall apart when Lennie is caught between two guys-her late sister’s fiancée and the new kid on the block Joe. It’s interesting how music ends up playing a character here as well. Lennie uses music to help her in the process of healing and fulfil her dreams. While the movie duration is restricted to two hours, it feels rushed especially since you watched it after reading the book. There were instances in the book which were missed in the movie. It makes you wonder if the book should have been translated into a Netflix series instead. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ9mz90itYU5b4qa3HGKUxj3_d-f-9FclxtSaelpyRWjFB2KXdVDfePN2lRPmCbIpFzfm4GlxUUGCC5WJUKkuW5tFnfX4VHyeqwz-vJhymVtID33i28V8KC3klN4ARJ7h_ccnU6PeimiK_9Uev3XlRvcB4ipFZKsEOJCGJmMISRYV-9U7CWvY/s719/unnamed-602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="522" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ9mz90itYU5b4qa3HGKUxj3_d-f-9FclxtSaelpyRWjFB2KXdVDfePN2lRPmCbIpFzfm4GlxUUGCC5WJUKkuW5tFnfX4VHyeqwz-vJhymVtID33i28V8KC3klN4ARJ7h_ccnU6PeimiK_9Uev3XlRvcB4ipFZKsEOJCGJmMISRYV-9U7CWvY/s320/unnamed-602.jpg" width="232" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p><b>Drive my Car: </b> Nominated for the Oscar in the best foreign film category, <i>Drive my car</i> is based on a short story by Haruki Murakami from his short story collection Men Without Women. It chronicles the story of a theatre actor and director who is coping with his wife’s sudden demise. Besides, he is also grappling with his wife’s multiple affairs with several men. He befriends one of the men and gets to understand himself and the reasons for his wife’s infidelity. In the meantime, he strikes an interesting rapport with his new hired driver. I was amazed at a short story adaptation being three hours long, especially since I watched The Sky is Everywhere after this. The movie begins from the flashback of the short story with his wife’s infidelity. The pacing is rather slow initially and drags throughout the film. The story touches upon interesting nuances about the narrator’s discovery of himself, his life, and people around him. This makes the metaphor of the title interesting, adding several layers to the story. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-38334632787010582582022-03-17T12:45:00.000-07:002022-03-17T12:45:06.150-07:00Memory Trigger <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_qKzhFnC97yfhF_MUaipdDhEarOJEqy_dpOzVxPrZqCKa4MH0paFP4ZMSs_3gVV2RHt4q9u4yggjy2hzwBQcRAR3aw8YGHFD6AIrkbUv4_PYyOPjyk0XaI68jkO-AiUefyec6c9pwTLDNOHmiZpSVtjd3NqG59hebLxgC5joFDLtRCyIEaPM=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_qKzhFnC97yfhF_MUaipdDhEarOJEqy_dpOzVxPrZqCKa4MH0paFP4ZMSs_3gVV2RHt4q9u4yggjy2hzwBQcRAR3aw8YGHFD6AIrkbUv4_PYyOPjyk0XaI68jkO-AiUefyec6c9pwTLDNOHmiZpSVtjd3NqG59hebLxgC5joFDLtRCyIEaPM=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">This semester, I'm enrolled in a seminar that focuses on speech and dialogue. It’s interesting how reading some information from the material assigned, triggered a memory This excerpt is from a novel titled You which is also a series. It’s about a narrator stalking a woman who visits his store. The term ‘you’ elicits a creepy feeling in the reader, giving them the feeling of being the person stalked. However, there are certain lines and passages that makes the reader feel the narrator is stating nothing but the truth. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">In the above passage, the narrator talks about the absence of DVD stores and the reduced communication levels between humans. Having grown up in an era where I’ve rented DVDs, this statement struck a chord. Back then, I’d have some wonderful conversations with the DVD rental shop owner, who later became a very dear friend. There were times I’d be confused on what movie to watch next, and he’d come up with several recommendations and reviews. I remember how I would end up discussing the movie in detail while returning the DVD. This was back in 2009. Years elapsed and one fine day I got to know; he was no more. Died in an accident. There was no one to take over his shop and it eventually shut down forever. This was in 2015. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Later, I moved to California and the Amazon, Netflix era took over. No doubt, there are numerous options, and we are spoilt for choice. The other day, I was sitting on my couch, surfing Netflix, checking IMDB reviews simultaneously. It was a moment when I missed my dear friend and his reviews. Technology, no doubt has brought a lot of convenience. Unfortunately, it’s also minimized human interaction to a large level. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">While the above narrator is no way likeable by any terms, I couldn’t help feeling there was an element of truth in his statement. A sense of loneliness that is growing within us. There is a longingness to hear another human’s voice, and no, the voices of the characters on Netflix series and movies do not count. As I turned the page over, that passage stuck with me for a while. I dwelled on the bittersweet memories before I realized I had no choice but to resign myself to reality. To a world where there are talks of AI taking over. That brings me back to speech and dialogue. Will there be any, going forward? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p></div>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-87040363145201904192022-02-04T21:44:00.002-08:002022-02-04T21:46:22.190-08:00Summary of January reads<p> </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjuPujhRZZSsj7czKe84crcwp8Dpn27f1u6SLTP31c97ASYWsFSV4SS4_NbWvEKyxOf9VLLUSNlu6LSIaEYfwKFqXD2-nyfvZwBz3nexUaKE8jRhj-JLUtU3JIdsDzDe2ZTewUM3vDe0Kq4nxO5gHlFBp-K-Dpb4ZzwrA-GjmVvIHo0SpAPPPg=s3072" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjuPujhRZZSsj7czKe84crcwp8Dpn27f1u6SLTP31c97ASYWsFSV4SS4_NbWvEKyxOf9VLLUSNlu6LSIaEYfwKFqXD2-nyfvZwBz3nexUaKE8jRhj-JLUtU3JIdsDzDe2ZTewUM3vDe0Kq4nxO5gHlFBp-K-Dpb4ZzwrA-GjmVvIHo0SpAPPPg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Summary of January reads. It’s been a good reading month with a toss-up of fiction, poetry, and a play. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">The Midnight library</span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> The Midnight library deals with an interesting premise of the infinite possibilities of lives we could have led. What resonated with me was the protagonist's feelings of regret and going back to live a life she wanted to. The author showcases that no life is devoid of imperfections and that even the most seemingly life comes with its share of shortcomings and misery. The character driven plot is compelling and engaging. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">The Seas</span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">This is a perfect example of an unreliable narrator. It tells the story of a girl who believes she’s a mermaid. While she awaits her father, she falls in love with an older man who goes off to serve in the Iraq war. The story is set in a town infused with gossip, deceit, and alcoholism. What stood out to me was the voice of the narrator, her raw honesty, and unabashed feelings towards Jude. The chapters are divided into vignettes and the imagery caters well to the retelling of the fairytale. It was interesting to observe how the author packs in several elements into this small novel.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Gordo</span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">A collection of eleven short stories that reads like a story cycle. It traces the life of a boy named Gordo who is grappling with his identity and sexuality while coming of age. The first-person point of view makes it easy to empathize with the narrator at every juncture and the universal themes of community, identity and sense of belonging strike a chord with the reader across the globe. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">A Children's Bible</span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">This is again an interesting premise where the author deals with climate change and merges it with coming-of-age theme. The story navigates through the eyes of a teenage narrator, and she uses first person plural, indicating the collective voice of adolescence. While there are multiple characters, the setting is dystopian and some of themes are universal, and the metaphors seem to equate God with science. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">The World of normal boys</span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">This was a special read as it’s a book authored by one of my professors. It’s a coming-of-age story centered around thirteen-year-old boy named Robin who finds out that he is different from other boys of his age, while grappling with his identity, an unexpected accident causes a breakdown in Robin's family. As the family falls apart, Robin embarks on a journey of self-discovery, questioning many aspects of life. The prose is poetic and consists of a raw honesty. We tend to feel Robin's pain and that of the other characters in the story. The plot is complex with its multitude of layers and richness in emotion. It leaves you feeling heavy hearted. Especially when you realize how some things never get back to normalcy in life. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">The Pillow Man </span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Read this based on a recommendation for dialogue. This British play narrates how an author of short stories about brutality on children is arrested as some of the recent murders bears resemblance to his stories. What I noticed about the dialogues were how he tone contained sarcastic and cynical overtures. It also contained some amount of dark humor. It tends to remind the readers of couple of other works of literature-Like Mice and Men and Franz Kafka's The Trial. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Oceanic </span></b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">In this collection of beautiful poems, Aimee engages with the natural world around her. Her descriptions are vivid, and she draws parallels between her own life and the environment. The structure of some of the poems feel like ebb of a tide. The poems are heartwarming and contain a depth in the emotions conveyed. One thing that struck me is her ability to view the world with new eyes. The poems had a good rhythm to them just like the sound of the waves. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-78397907895421148992022-01-24T21:24:00.000-08:002022-01-24T21:25:20.722-08:00A Children's Bible: Book review<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheWveINtr1D_m0BMGM3wcMvyT4vv-Xn5IFV6wnhz9maJDouvvDtLxgeZxN6W-Jyn8G3f9j_RZLiD9rYTTDyYhuegvzOqCtn09aZjrJtB9nWMM4818J73gOnu6k7K8GqCBQs210n_XPAn86mn7W1wvact3z5XQ1b7Q2YfWOdq0gbYpIbqStYu0=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheWveINtr1D_m0BMGM3wcMvyT4vv-Xn5IFV6wnhz9maJDouvvDtLxgeZxN6W-Jyn8G3f9j_RZLiD9rYTTDyYhuegvzOqCtn09aZjrJtB9nWMM4818J73gOnu6k7K8GqCBQs210n_XPAn86mn7W1wvact3z5XQ1b7Q2YfWOdq0gbYpIbqStYu0=s320" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Book review</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Title: A Children's Bible</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Author: Lydia Millet</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Genre: Fiction/Climate</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">A Children's Bible tells the story of a group of children and how they are left to fend for themselves in a storm. </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Evie and the rest of the children spend their vacation in a summer home with their parents. While the parents have their own ways of amusing themselves through alcohol and other frivolous activities, the children explore the area on their own. When a storm hits, the kids find refuge in a farm while the parents abscond. The rest of the narrative takes us through some interesting adventures, issues the author is trying to tackle and the parallels that are drawn. </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The entire story navigates through the eyes of our adolescent narrator Evie who uses first person plural. This seems to indicate the collective voice of adolescence. It's interesting to note how Lydia switches between the disdain voice of a young teenager to a mature person who is responsible for her baby brother Jack. Jack is an interesting character, a mix of naivety and wisdom. He is fascinated by the bible given to him and finds parallels between the contents of the book and what is happening in the world around them. </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">At first the novel may appear like just another coming of age story until it converges into a much detailed picture and serious overtones. The book may comprise of several characters which can be a little unsettling at first, but eventually hooks you. The setting seems to indicate a large vacation house and it isnt quite clear whom it belongs to. At first the novel feels timeless with old age language and contemporary references to social media and technology. The occurrence of the storm that creates havoc is the first shift to a dystopian world. It is here the author brings about the nuances of climate change and its repercussions, resulting in a strange apocalyptic world. </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">One thing that stands out is how the author merges the coming of age theme with multiple elements in the plot-religion, floods, angels, and several metaphors which seems to equate God with science. Overall an intersting and an engafing read, tackling a topic much in need of the hour. </div><div data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> </p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-40607554067178432962022-01-23T18:09:00.006-08:002022-01-23T19:47:05.288-08:00Mumbai memories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPpLnawKQwMj0IMUpQSG0nDGFVkRP_SWCyauN1Qyf7sR2uLZZeLnS1Oj1cYqGGb-v-1N2kZ7RT8fIcMcvPfZNga8Ch1HAjKelogAdQG4MxJkJZJIywJr1Br-aVL3fH_RLA0UrbiqJ6lcUUArt7BJftocRDJOAef_YZjveWxl6irtw3fSvnXog=s827" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="517" data-original-width="827" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPpLnawKQwMj0IMUpQSG0nDGFVkRP_SWCyauN1Qyf7sR2uLZZeLnS1Oj1cYqGGb-v-1N2kZ7RT8fIcMcvPfZNga8Ch1HAjKelogAdQG4MxJkJZJIywJr1Br-aVL3fH_RLA0UrbiqJ6lcUUArt7BJftocRDJOAef_YZjveWxl6irtw3fSvnXog=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Last night, I dreamed I was in Mumbai. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">On the promenade that they call Marine drive, where the waves crash against the breakers, where we see a small boat in yonder, where we see the buildings on the other side, and where we've seen many sunsets. Marine drive-where we've run many times, early in the mornings, watching the sun peep from the clouds, hear the shrill call of birds, wave to other fellow runners, and familiar faces. Marine drive which stretches for 2.5 miles along the ocean, where cars zoom past, where my running community would organize their monthly runs. Marine drive, which would look mystical in the rains, where I'd sit for hours gazing at the ocean post a run, where we'd gather with runner friends for a photo shoot. A place where we'd get lost in the sound of waves or the cacophony of human chatter, or the traffic. Its strange how there would be noise and yet we would enjoy some solitude. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Last night I dreamed I was running on Marine drive, smiling and waving at fellow runners. Its been three years now since I last visited. March 2019. The pandemic set in, lives were taken, borders were ceased. Even though things opened in between, I was enrolled in the MFA program, my daughter had school. I often long for those days in Mumbai-a place where I had a community, friends, my job as a journalist, interviewing authors. No doubt, I have achieved a lot after coming to California-taking up writing seriously, authored a non fiction book, completed many running and triathlon events, enrolled into an MFA program. And yet, I feel this void. Like something is missing from my life. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Lately, I've been looking outside my window, at the trees and birds. Sometimes I feel as though I am back in my apartment in Mumbai which overlooked trees as well. When I look at the buildings in SFO, I am reminded of the buildings in Mumbai-on Peddar road, Malabar hills, Powai. Everything I see tends to make me think about Mumbai. I miss the EDM concerts, hanging out with pals. The homesickness came in phases during the fall semester, but its worsened over the winter break. Three years is a long stretch, I cannot go now even I want to, thanks to the new variant. Besides, my spring semester begins in a couple of days. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I reflect often to see what I really miss. The answer isnt easy. As I dig deep, I realize that despite having lived here for almost 5 years, I haven't made too many friends like I did in mumbai,despite trying my best. First at Stanford, then with an Indian triathlon group. I wasnt sure why I felt like an outlier? In the first case, I wasnt domesticated enough, I was more purpose driven and sports oriented, didnt have time to sit around and gossip. In the second instance, I wasnt a tech engineer, neither did I work for Google or Apple,which seemed to be the requirement for the group to connect with you. Just when I was getting to know another Tri group in silicon valley, the pandemic set in. It was tough to make connections even in the writing community on zoom. Even if you did, it appeared to be tough to sustain them. Keeping in touch was a two way process and one gets tired after a point, when you are the only one taking the initiative. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">On further retrospection, I wonder if living far from the city is posing these hurdles. Perhaps the fact I'm at a different phase in my life-with a family and a kid is creating this barrier. Something I wonder if my sports background makes it challenging for people to connect with me. I'm not sure if this is winter depression or homesickness. I cannot deny that I've been facing mental health issues. During the Hot chocolate run packet pick up, I was reminded of the Mumbai marathon packet pick up which happened around the same time in Mumbai. A wave of nostalgia took over as I tried blinking back tears. Even at the start line, I missed running with my husband and other friends. Yesterday at the 49ers game, I reminisced all those sports parties we'd throw for our friends in Mumbai. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">While I try and keep a smiling face, try and stay positive with people I meet, inside I'm still hurting. It feels like someone has sliced my heart with a knife and the pain wouldn't easily heal. No one has uttered an unkind word, I've met some people over the break. Yet, I feel this hollow feeling inside. Perhaps a short visit to India would heal my mental health. I wonder if this pain is because of some past life Karma. I'm trying to deal with it in every possible manner. Write about it, workout, watch sports-Australian open, NBA, NFL, reading, watching Indian movies where stories revolve around Mumbai, and music. Some of the movies include Jhankar Beats, Dil Chahta Hai, Rock On, Jaane tu ya jaane naa. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Just as I was writing this, a friend of mine from India called. What a pleasant surprise. It felt good to catch up with him after a while. These little moments cheer me up before I sink into depression again. This too shall pass. I believe I am strong enough to not let anything linger too long. Meanwhile I can just hope that my dream will come true. Perhaps that dream of visiting Mumbai will come true someday. And I will find myself on the promenade called Marine drive where the waves rush to the shore to welcome me, I'll meet my runner friends, cliock pictures, and create new memories. Like the Aerosmith song goes, I can only Dream on. </p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-10912277343995844672022-01-23T15:49:00.003-08:002022-01-23T19:45:13.945-08:00The Hot Chocolate run experience <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhiVXgFrw85ZSC4xgwuHr6iAszwm3h1MoG8yxOga3CfEczKp_LuMFRUAR_5AeOYtfAE_jm5rqN-5STV-p7NZOqWRTiYgXB4JoA2Dy-Rsmi0EmrNE1MYZ5vLq75EkC0fMTpQwaqgLLrTkpi-k1nmxI45VP7STQo9UcQD8USEzKdCKtD9KZNPpXw=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhiVXgFrw85ZSC4xgwuHr6iAszwm3h1MoG8yxOga3CfEczKp_LuMFRUAR_5AeOYtfAE_jm5rqN-5STV-p7NZOqWRTiYgXB4JoA2Dy-Rsmi0EmrNE1MYZ5vLq75EkC0fMTpQwaqgLLrTkpi-k1nmxI45VP7STQo9UcQD8USEzKdCKtD9KZNPpXw=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="text-align: justify;">It was still dark outside when I got into my Uber. Cold, but not as cold as I expected it to be, strangely since it was the month of January. I reached San Francisco state parking lot and got inside the shuttle that was supposed to take us inside Golden Gate Park. I sat in my seat, listening to the conversation between two runner women seated behind me. I normally feel bad about eavesdropping but I decided to treat this as an exercise for my dialogue writing. One of the books I read recently emphasized on this exercise to improve the art of dialogue writing. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;">We reached Golden Gate park which was swarming with runners, volunteers and race organizers. Long lines, excited chatter, corals at the start line. I waited there, observing the crowd as I usually did. It was beginning to get brighter as the darkness dissipated. I met a runner aquaintance before the 15 km run began. I met him at another event in December and remained in touch since then. The best part about running was meeting several people and getting to talk to them before the run. San Francisco especially has that friendly vibe, which is why I love running here. not to mention, Golden gate Park is one of my favourite places to run. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">The run began at 8:30 am. It was quite warm and the sun was out. I recollected how cold it was 4 years ago when I ran this race for the first time. It helped with my timing which was 1:30 back then. But then it was a time when my sole focus was on running and there wasnt a break in my running. No pandemic. Anyway, I digress. It felt wonderful to run in golden gate park again. Those incredible sights, the inclines. How I'd come here sometimes before classes at USF wondering if I'll ever get to run again. Here I was living my dream. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">The first 3 miles was downhill and I ended up running 10 mins a mile pace. It felt good to be running at that pace after a long time. I ran past stow lake, watched the ducks in their splendor, got into my zone with EDM blaring from my speakers. I followed the sea of runners upt to the windmill which was the end of 3 miles. I turned at Ocean beach, watching the waves to my right and fighting the breeze. Its always challenging running there, battling headwinds and forces of nature. Back in 2020, I remember fighting headwinds to an extent where I felt I wouldnt finish the race. I watched some runners walk and run at this point. Volunteers egged us on, fellow runners cheered one another. the camaraderie in a race with a bunch of strangers was just inexplicable. I soon found myself at the end of the 6th mile and turning into the park again. I glanced at my watch. The timing had improved from my previous runs. Never mind that in the past I clocked 6 miles in less than an hour. I had to tell myself that I was starting all over again. Pandemic took a toll on my health, mental health and new additions and work load of my MFA program. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">The heat was unrelenting. Talk about global warming. Was this really winter? Its always been the case at SF. I'd end up dressing as an eskimo while the heat would make me want to jump into the ocean. After the 7th mile, I hit the wall. Never ending inclines ahead of me. I looked around at others-some were walk running-one strategy to tackle hills. I tried doing the same. My calves ached, my quads cried. My ego wouldnt give up. Come on I told them, these were legs which have seen gigantic inclines at Big Sur and San Francisco Half marathon. They weren't the same. More hill repeats I made a note to myself. Back then I was running at Stanford Dish. Nothing else matters from Metallica was playing just then. Pefect timing. It took me back to a mantra I usually followed-You are your only competiion. Nothing else really matters. I glanced at my watch, the minutes ticking away as I survived th inclines. I heard the emcees voice, and gathered my reserves. I made a dash for the finish line where photographers clicked away. I heard someone say strong finish. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivsxbhBMBm1rmMe_6NeqBoaQ80TKcHHS96aJpuJWSwAVdl3vxTVe0kZcZ_u0P6mu5z_GWiKMUND4hY4eAArh66bXS8mhlSkpywwUValK0Q1m_yJ9v5GdXwRnHT7zNUxbKwbChT0SWGarrxIICWvytmViPZkNh0CB0TjlTHbpLHWIPEuERlAp8=s1356" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1356" data-original-width="814" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivsxbhBMBm1rmMe_6NeqBoaQ80TKcHHS96aJpuJWSwAVdl3vxTVe0kZcZ_u0P6mu5z_GWiKMUND4hY4eAArh66bXS8mhlSkpywwUValK0Q1m_yJ9v5GdXwRnHT7zNUxbKwbChT0SWGarrxIICWvytmViPZkNh0CB0TjlTHbpLHWIPEuERlAp8=s320" width="192" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">It felt great to sprint to the finish line, especially after hitting a wall. I was garlanded the delicious looking chocolate medal. Armed with the medal and runners high, I walked around Golden Gate Park, admiring the scenery, the big giant wheel, walked past Shakespeare garden, onto the road where I caught an Uber to meet a friend at Pier 26. Walking by the ocean, watching the seagulls, laughter, conversation and a vegan smoothie. It was a perfect sunday! It might not have been my best run but finished strong. Icing on the cake was to start off the year on a sweet note. Nothing Else matters. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhx9pXlS2ceq2GRkST4wv1eo1RAgtk0r3DNR-ChHopEuCWCli-WFz1VCghiS6ZiGhoRLccXK2AfcLkPnaLVGRgtTkBIqLGu09sXC8WksjNnmG81l0F-iAc5UTLznr4frTqjtQwxmOd4FdxTgIev1IECOkNSFLdnOr0BFuOhJey2SlyHVp8TqY8=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhx9pXlS2ceq2GRkST4wv1eo1RAgtk0r3DNR-ChHopEuCWCli-WFz1VCghiS6ZiGhoRLccXK2AfcLkPnaLVGRgtTkBIqLGu09sXC8WksjNnmG81l0F-iAc5UTLznr4frTqjtQwxmOd4FdxTgIev1IECOkNSFLdnOr0BFuOhJey2SlyHVp8TqY8=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-75884305967334292572022-01-17T22:26:00.003-08:002022-01-17T22:26:33.881-08:00Gordo : Book review <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg7IZY-m4CW4n-aQofJD-w_qNksBAVmilJyZ527AkqOpVvnbyeYfIpbhV9zqoGVu0A4BMqWkxQLffPfFwch07BepDeB65eAKbLwA3KA-7tqFyQP38iSacHUeWMVOchK_GwXdqFUqQOZg-CuZ6Vl2pFqUOT1MHvXqAF8DmliMXrSHAQXaw5zR8w=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg7IZY-m4CW4n-aQofJD-w_qNksBAVmilJyZ527AkqOpVvnbyeYfIpbhV9zqoGVu0A4BMqWkxQLffPfFwch07BepDeB65eAKbLwA3KA-7tqFyQP38iSacHUeWMVOchK_GwXdqFUqQOZg-CuZ6Vl2pFqUOT1MHvXqAF8DmliMXrSHAQXaw5zR8w=s320" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Book review</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Title: Gordo</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Author: Jaime Cortez</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Genre: Fiction/ Short story collection </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Gordon is a collection of eleven short stories tracing the life of a young boy named Gordo. Gordo is grappling with his identity, mockery, body shaming and forced to comply to his father’s expectations of being masculine. As Gordo grows up, he begins to learn about the ways of the world, the people in his community, poverty, abuse, violence and undocumented immigrants. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">One of the key strengths in this collection is the voice of the narrator. Most of the stories are told in first person from the point of view of Gordo. There is a certain rawness and honesty in the tone that strikes a chord. This invites the readers to empathize and travel with Gordo on his journey from childhood to an adult. Through his eyes, we see the social setting and community around him and how they treat those who do not comply with certain expected norms. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"> The author tackles some powerful themes like masculinity, a sense of belonging and community. There is a delicate balance in the language that traverses between humor and brutality. The writing is compassionate and takes the readers on a bittersweet ride. Some of my favorite in the collection are El Gordo and Alex. El Cordo portrays the vulnerabilities of Gordo trying to live up to his father’s expectations. Alex documents multiple elements that is beautifully packed and leaves a lingering impact. We see some of the characters make an appearance in two or more stories that reads like a story cycle. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">One of things that appeals about a book like Gordo is his universal it’s themes and emotions are. While it’s largely set in Watsonville, California, Gordo could be anyone of us, trying to live to go societal and parental expectations, dealing with hardships and at the same time enjoy our moments of laughter and joy. In short Gordo encapsulates the phenomenon called life.</p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-4859767819019731722022-01-17T10:12:00.003-08:002022-01-17T10:12:51.074-08:00Tick, Tick..Boom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhW3jR85bOCVYMviOH1gbposONNRNJsnojlzf5tkoS7c5aAeHtISTnRwZMZOfDUJgteTcR5nqa7Pb3QJ1yNDG2EXpJibkpZ7RvzFVqOowkEuMVnRzqS2p1XyeA6BCWXRVOorhZ66a0Y17hzju0TXttX83dQXd24GedDkD0s1JfzQBobtX8gAzY=s592" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="592" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhW3jR85bOCVYMviOH1gbposONNRNJsnojlzf5tkoS7c5aAeHtISTnRwZMZOfDUJgteTcR5nqa7Pb3QJ1yNDG2EXpJibkpZ7RvzFVqOowkEuMVnRzqS2p1XyeA6BCWXRVOorhZ66a0Y17hzju0TXttX83dQXd24GedDkD0s1JfzQBobtX8gAzY=s320" width="216" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">Ever watched a movie that leaes you feeeling as though someone has placed a rock in your chest? Thats precisely how I felt after watching the Andrew Garfield movie-Tick, Tick... Boom. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">The movie moved up places in my to see list, the minute I saw that the lead actor bagged an award at the Golden Globes. And what a brilliant performnce. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Tick,Tick... Boom tis based on Jonathan Larson, a playwright who lived in New York city, trying to make ends meet, composing and navigating between pressures of a relationship and friendships around him. After several trials and tribulations, Larson goes on to create the hit musical Rent ad sadly doesnt live to see the first preview performance at Broadway. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I was intrigued by how the movie resonated with me on so many levels. One was the dialogue exchange betwen Garfield and the manager after his first performance at the workshop. She says how a writers life comprises of having to keep writing the next one until something clicks. This is followed by Garfield's downcast expression as he thought this was the best he could write. Over the last couple of years, I've realised that a writer's life is a struggling one. You keep writing and writing until you find that agent/publisher who is enthralled by your manuscript. Rejections are a part and parcel of a writer's journey. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Garfield is dealing with the pressures of his relationship with his girlfriend who wants to move places, his job which renders him broke most of the time, his inability to come up with lyrics a week before his workshop. It was interesting how Garfield deals with this infamous wall in writing. He dives into the pool and voila! he comes up with the lyics of the song while he is swimming laps. I couldnt help thinking how swimming, writing and music have one thing in common-rhythm. As a triathlete, most of my writing idea s come from either my swims, bike rides or runs. Swimming especially has this inate ability to nurture and declutter your mind, to an extent where ideas flow freely, just like water. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">The direction of the movie, needless to say, was brilliant. I was particularly struck by how the chaos in Garfield's life bledded well with the chaos in his mind. The mundanity of the life of the character was beautifully portrayed. I often think its challenging to capture mundanity in a movie and make it interesting. Parasite did that pretty well. Nothing much really happens and yet so much happens. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Andrew Garfield's performance was scintillating, right from his expressions and portrayal of a multitude of emotions. To be honest, I have seen very little of his work. Spiderman(2012) and the recent one. After Tick, tick..boom, I definitely would love to see more of his work. The rest of the supporting cast did a phenomenal job too. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I was heartbroken to see how the playwrighter did not live to see his success as he died at the age of 35. What a tragedy! As the movie ended, I was left with a bitersweet feeling that made me reach for a box of tissues. </p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-51566932035437212222022-01-13T22:50:00.002-08:002022-01-13T22:50:41.062-08:00Visit to Jack London State Historic park<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKJMj-YOjbRxRaE4qhkhj304M3l5B5Yr_kuqj1_-_E4ymQQBLTE_WssbLp2MprlFG_sbcI0Mzg1leHF23nvXqb4OCbLamalHVtMUwUkhIx_BYWbKl1ydAd-waaopjJHYKB4Ra2it8DR7L1jlJ6hKmTWZnX9Y-Qv_ffvsN9ule6pFhES6Hj5B0=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKJMj-YOjbRxRaE4qhkhj304M3l5B5Yr_kuqj1_-_E4ymQQBLTE_WssbLp2MprlFG_sbcI0Mzg1leHF23nvXqb4OCbLamalHVtMUwUkhIx_BYWbKl1ydAd-waaopjJHYKB4Ra2it8DR7L1jlJ6hKmTWZnX9Y-Qv_ffvsN9ule6pFhES6Hj5B0=s320" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">I first heard about the Jack London State Historic Park from my professor with whom I was taking workshop with last semester. It was something during the month of November when I was feeling an all time low. Nothing was goiing right. I missed running the Golden gate Half marathon because of fatigue, my strength dropped, my pace dropped, I received a few rejections, and I was feeling home sick. I wasnt sure where my writing was heading and whether I was even in the right field. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">It was during that time when my professor mentioned about his visit to Jack London museum, about thirty minutes from Napa. He talked about having seen a pile of rejections faced by the author before he tasted success. I listened intently, making my mind to visit this place sometime. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">During winter break, while browsing for things to do/see near Bodega Bay, I stumbled upon Jack London state Historic park. It was an hour away. I took this as some sort of sign and decided to drive up there with family. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Nestled amidst the lush green ranches and vineyards, we spotted the stone building which was the museum. There were clippings about the author's life along with motivational quotes. I learned how he died at 40, and yet lived his life to the fullest. It was intriguing to learn how he never wasted a single minute of his life. He faced 1000s of rejections before he made it big in life. Apparently he wasnt afraid of failure. He cherished experimenting with new ideas even if it didnt work in his favour. He strongly believed that exercise would cater to a buoyant mind which would help his writing. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">It was a delight to see how he indulged in several outdoor activities, sailed seas, and weathered storms. The entire place mesmerised me. I stood there gaping at the photographs, quotes, and the typewriter. What a history this place has! After a tour, we were asked to type out a note that chronicled our learnings from this place. One of my biggest takeaways was to larn to embrace failure which was a process for every struggling or aspiring writer. The author's quote on failure will remain imprinted in my mind forever, and not get bogged own by rejections on submittable. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkRS72FRho2JSicIdVYJuGu8TI6TofSY2d0ihxUWFgJnuXAdJzMKuODtlaJWns54zt9y6D5X2JVjn1baWtX_QN3V7A4ZJUM8sYiOQbAsf-k63qN7cFWlI_Z1NYJSQY7Is1J73N2kG3eaWPjmcg-rtDyQKqWg6xG6G2muV0ionJowerTs9rFiI=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkRS72FRho2JSicIdVYJuGu8TI6TofSY2d0ihxUWFgJnuXAdJzMKuODtlaJWns54zt9y6D5X2JVjn1baWtX_QN3V7A4ZJUM8sYiOQbAsf-k63qN7cFWlI_Z1NYJSQY7Is1J73N2kG3eaWPjmcg-rtDyQKqWg6xG6G2muV0ionJowerTs9rFiI=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">We then visited his cottage, overlookng a pond and the vineyards. I marveled at the view from his porch from where he used to write. What a magnificent sight of the vineyards. I wonder how he got his writing done with such a beautiful and distracting view. There was something about the ascdending vineyards that was distracting, almost casting you into a spell. You could never tear your gaze from them. And this was the same place where the author churned out great stories. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEil8pry1YR2-gSZWM1wHO69iaBdTOmq5Fv2kFoJWSSIc1aOH7yN3FputRcjCLzqFitRjbtTc9Bl17zPmkIDhb31Jx1gwnN9dtJOIl85oVEerPLPxc_ujcczX5940d7djn12Y0YBwwde-ZbRWqfMSBkItRkky5y0lOzSRjVM18egH_dS_Bm_AYM=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEil8pry1YR2-gSZWM1wHO69iaBdTOmq5Fv2kFoJWSSIc1aOH7yN3FputRcjCLzqFitRjbtTc9Bl17zPmkIDhb31Jx1gwnN9dtJOIl85oVEerPLPxc_ujcczX5940d7djn12Y0YBwwde-ZbRWqfMSBkItRkky5y0lOzSRjVM18egH_dS_Bm_AYM=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">The place was tranquil, serene and calm. It elicited goosebumps as I took a tour inside the rooms. It almost felt like the author's spirit was still there. A strange presence. I couldnt put my finger to it. A crazy part of me perhaps wanted the blessings of this legendary author. I was filled with a strange sense of calmness. I walked around the rooms, porches, along the pond and the vineyards. Surrounded by trails, patches of green and puddles, I was lost in thought. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">This solitude amidst nature gave me time to introspect and reflect about the fall semester. I was stressed out with a lack of break between my thesis and rthe beginning of the semester. I was trying yo do multiple things at the same time-get back my running, participate in triathlons, write new stories, read short stories in a way I've never done before, I was pressed for time, i felt my energy zap, and I badly needed a break. A break where there were no deadlines, a break where I could just sleep and recover from the summer bout of illness and fatigue. I felt I was in a constant race and pressurized. When I looked into my reflection in the pond, I was reminded of a quote my coaches used to mention-you are your only competition. And i asked myself-so what if i face rejections? So what if my writing isnt reached the level I want it to reach?Have I improved in the last one year? Most importantly was I happy? What was the need to rush? Havent several authors whom I interviewed in the past told me catogorically as to how their stories took time to evolve. I had to be patient, disciplined and enjoy the process. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I always believe nature has the ability to nurture those who embrace it. Few years ago, when I was facing another dilemna in my life, a visit to the redwoods ghelped me gain clarity. I looked around the green landscape around me. Majestic and silent. It almost felt they were smiling at me. I felt I found the answers to my questions. I found the ability to reconnect with myself and what was important to me, rather than fall into the rat race. I went back to my hotel, feeling lighter, better and most importantly happier. </p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-83282295546192045522022-01-13T19:38:00.002-08:002022-01-13T19:38:18.717-08:00The Seas : Book review<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9Ihgh_X30SQN7RJc9Pgwb1LRWEZGz_gOQ4VxjWzwki5pGJEbRJBtoKpX7SHt5-fU9ip6cVy-0SW1JcRAECgznMDzalbdcwmUXc1DbrDWgS2wpY5j5BNFZozS2CVhYlvWuuoSULynnKNG2fv3PFt5---stFlQ5t5FX_ALUImfskk66-tPQBJ0=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9Ihgh_X30SQN7RJc9Pgwb1LRWEZGz_gOQ4VxjWzwki5pGJEbRJBtoKpX7SHt5-fU9ip6cVy-0SW1JcRAECgznMDzalbdcwmUXc1DbrDWgS2wpY5j5BNFZozS2CVhYlvWuuoSULynnKNG2fv3PFt5---stFlQ5t5FX_ALUImfskk66-tPQBJ0=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Book review</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Title: The Seas</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Author: Samantha Hunt</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Genre: Nautical Fiction</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: justify;">'The Seas' tells an interesting tale of an adolescent girl in a coastal village who is convinced she is a mermaid. The word mermaid is bound to trigger ideas about the possibility of this book containing elements of magical realism which isnt exactly the case. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Our protagonist is an unnamed 19 year old girl who lives in a town infused with gossip, deceit and alcoholism. The narrator's father has disappeared into the ocean. While waiting for him, she stumbles upon a much older man named Jude who walks out of the sea. She falls in love with him while he goes off to serve in the Iraq war. The distance doesn deter her love for him and she adopts several measures to ease her pain on land which eventually lands her in prison. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the strengths of the book is the powerful voice of the narrator. While there are times she sounds younger than her age, she is bold and unpretentious. Whether it comes to expressing her love for Jude, her sexual desires, or describing her vivid water infused world. Despite facing tragedy, she does not appear pitiful or passive. And yet, there lies a certain vulnerability in her manifested through her longing for her father.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> The first person point of view lends well to the unreliable narrator our protagonist is. We experience her world through her eyes, oscillating between the blurred lines of reality and delusion. There are times you are compelled to believe the narrator and times when you are forced to think that she is possibly insane. The author explores how trauma tends to affect a person's ability to see their world. A defense mechanism in the form of denial leads to them clinging on to the ray of hope. We see this when the narrator and her mother thrive on the hope their father may return-one of the reasons they never leave their village. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The structure is interesting as the author has divided the chapters into vignettes. It appears like fragments lending again to the concept of unreliable narrator. The prose is poetic and the author uses imagery and symbols to cater to this retelling of a fairytale. She touches upon themes of grief, longingness and trauma. The dynamics between the characters touch upon the mother daughter relationship and also the narrator's relationship with her grandfather which influences her view of the world. Her fascination for a much older man tends to remind us of other literary works like Strange Weather in Tokyo, Winter in Sokcho and Walking on a ceiling. The female protagonist's obsession for an older man is often seen to stem from the absence of father figures in their lives. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Seas makes us root for the narrator. Reading this book gives us a feeling of having a first hand experience of a tidal wave. It's intriguing how the author has managed to pack so many elements in this compact novel-right from the Iraq war, complex relationships, and myths. </div><span style="color: #888888;"><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div><br /></div></span></div>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-75503124395977352212022-01-05T15:24:00.003-08:002022-01-05T15:24:32.016-08:00The Midnight library: Book review<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiS8nuxdPy41qZIbIil51gYNKFSyScdClyeWas45bXoIsrtKeC5zkJU4qn8021548L7C9Qc8gdgI1xbx-ujqCh-T_Lk-YQU_qBpJPB4oknwQQ8APUZH2MVw3CnWXq6LGERmz0s231WHOLG--vWtzFTIUF-nZ__y2g8BN4-RrCgta7vC2CH8asM=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiS8nuxdPy41qZIbIil51gYNKFSyScdClyeWas45bXoIsrtKeC5zkJU4qn8021548L7C9Qc8gdgI1xbx-ujqCh-T_Lk-YQU_qBpJPB4oknwQQ8APUZH2MVw3CnWXq6LGERmz0s231WHOLG--vWtzFTIUF-nZ__y2g8BN4-RrCgta7vC2CH8asM=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div><div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Book review </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Title: The Midnight library </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Author: Matt Haig</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Genre: Speculative Fiction</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Often we are bogged down by regrets and tend to wonder how our life would have turned out if we had chosen an alternative route. The Midnight library is one such interesting read and explores this premises of choosing different possibilities and variations on life. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Our protagonist Nora Seed leads an uninteresting life. She feels despair about her lack of accomplishments and views herself as a failure. Out of frustration, she decides to end her life. However, Nora doesn’t embrace death yet. She reached this place called The Midnight library which lies between life and death. On the shelves of this library are books which comprise of parallel lives Nora might have led. She is given a chance to redeem her regrets and live multiple lives. We see her as a rockstar, Olympic swimmer, a glaciologist and several more lives. Even the seemingly perfect life comes with its share of imperfections. Nora faces a tough decision of deciding her ideal life and goes on a journey of self discovery of what she considers important in life. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">One of strengths of the book is the characterization of Nora. Throughout the story, we are engaged with her several lives and the varying personalities. Most importantly we are privy to Nora’s thoughts, emotions and feelings as she flits from one life to another. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">The setting is another highlight of the story. The author manages to bring in a fantastical place like the library and also realistic settings of different countries where Nora lives her several lives. It’s interesting how he weaves in the concept of mental health and addresses issues like depression and suicide. Haig’s story telling abilities with his simply plot makes it engaging and immersive for the reader.</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"> The Midnight Library is thought provoking and takes you on a roller coaster ride. Nora’s experiences, decisions and emotions resonate with the reader. The book also makes you introspect deeply into your own lives, leaving you ponder over regrets, possibilities and what makes life worth living. </div><span style="color: #888888;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span></div><span style="color: #888888;"></span></div><span style="color: #888888;"></span></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">--</span><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></span></p><div data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(136, 136, 136); color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></div>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-33463724304875859962022-01-02T22:52:00.003-08:002022-01-02T22:52:49.722-08:00List of movies watched recently<p> Over the past two months, I've managed to watch some interesting films. Writing a small passage of my thoughts about each of them. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEOKmtiZjmMgjDunvuip8_5ru6nACc0uhHah52KB_s-6yC1SPmsP8iDe41-TPjLiVxgjvy9xc-inEw3Y1wN-YEOKi0fhbnAdA-paU8Z6BzjTkMYFtzFwvZcy5OmXb1OhhPAnwzGikqyqcoScnWpDPv9KgJZsbzQQ5S3xYHiGT0-kGrmzebDhw=s4096" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="2764" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEOKmtiZjmMgjDunvuip8_5ru6nACc0uhHah52KB_s-6yC1SPmsP8iDe41-TPjLiVxgjvy9xc-inEw3Y1wN-YEOKi0fhbnAdA-paU8Z6BzjTkMYFtzFwvZcy5OmXb1OhhPAnwzGikqyqcoScnWpDPv9KgJZsbzQQ5S3xYHiGT0-kGrmzebDhw=s320" width="216" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Matrix Ressuructions:</b> Watched this on New years eve on HBO. It was an interesting conceot of two realities. Neo has to find out is his reality actually exists or is just an extension of his mental make up. As he tumbles down the rabbit hole, we encounter other characters and at one point the matrix appears to be stronger and a lot more dangerous. Watching this film felt like spiraling down a dark hole,. It almost felt like watching Inception. At times reality feels like an illusion while the illusionary world begins to feel so real that it becomes hard to distinguish between the two. While its classified as Science Fiction, I personally feel its partly Psychological fiction. the dialogues were engaging and I was hooked to the story. A 5.8 rating on imdb in my opinion is a little harsh. I felt it deserved at least 6.8/10. It was good to see Keanu Reeves and Priyanka Chopra as Sati. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqOH0ZVr0-MY1sOk3BhLHX1k684LC5OGTZSL0xolP6WuuDGhQ5WAY61KXqSwh3wKNa61aaAQEgjkuhe8Qi-fTCyHapczSXTpxZ94gw7kS-UCIoLn9CzdLA8sC1BGZwoWB9asjKLM5WH7amt5SZml8_oTR-KtqHImrNdf0CavYmQEdvYEq_s18=s275" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="220" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqOH0ZVr0-MY1sOk3BhLHX1k684LC5OGTZSL0xolP6WuuDGhQ5WAY61KXqSwh3wKNa61aaAQEgjkuhe8Qi-fTCyHapczSXTpxZ94gw7kS-UCIoLn9CzdLA8sC1BGZwoWB9asjKLM5WH7amt5SZml8_oTR-KtqHImrNdf0CavYmQEdvYEq_s18" width="220" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Atrangi re: </b>The trailer of the film piqued my curiosity. Atrangi re chronicles the life of Rinku who tries to elope with her long time boyfriend-a magician. Fedup of her antics, her family forcibly marries her to the next available bachelor-a south Indian lad named Vishu, who is already engaged to someone else. On reaching Madurai, Vishu is compelled to call off the engagement and realizes he's in love with Rinku. When Sajjad arrives, things take an unexpected turn. The film portrays mental illness in a sensitive manner. it aims to showcase how trauma effects a person on a deep level, which results them losing a sense of reality. Sara Ali Khan delivers a stupendous performance and deserves an award. She's the star of the film. One of the drawbacksof the film was that it initially felt rushed in the first part. I wasnt too convinced of Dhanush falling in love with the character of Sara. The film otherwise was intense, emotional and powerful with some great performances. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjXR9YoebgBJOspe8jHTgg6AnVxDu0lpcqZoyYq7IhNGfPW9Mw_zTHw47aV8DNoOK_eDHjLPr5RMPrvGrBN49K49uWaUQS8rRYJ1xKkNyiJSrg66tHyZzQDduWWQJs5naQKGsgfvGX6VhZMbGZDvuzTlRiQIp2g3UqHIc9ecwCkr0evZPkx0LQ=s889" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="889" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjXR9YoebgBJOspe8jHTgg6AnVxDu0lpcqZoyYq7IhNGfPW9Mw_zTHw47aV8DNoOK_eDHjLPr5RMPrvGrBN49K49uWaUQS8rRYJ1xKkNyiJSrg66tHyZzQDduWWQJs5naQKGsgfvGX6VhZMbGZDvuzTlRiQIp2g3UqHIc9ecwCkr0evZPkx0LQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Unforgivable: </b>Watched this on Netflix. What a movie! Left me moist eyed. The Unforgivable traces a life of a woman named Ruth Slater who is released from prison after being sentenced for twenty years. She is trying to put her life back together and reenter the society. Simultaneously, she is on the search for her younger sister who is now in a foster home. Meanwhile, she is trying to fit into a world that refuses to forgive her and also fighting off the sons of the sheriff who want to avenge their father's death. The Unforgivable boasts of a maginificent performance from Sandra Bullock, whose works I've admired in the past. Her attempts to reside in a hostile society which views her with a jaundiced life, her relentless search for her sister, that confrontation scene with her sister's foster parents until the tearful union left me with myriad emotions and a lot of questions. Dont convicts deserve another chance especially when they have been sentenced for a crime they didnt commit? Is it fair to keep a person from seeing their own sibling? Overall a well made film. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b><br /></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJFty0I2A1av8c_NIgH4x1GAQlafbID0ad0hXWr4OSMOtXmZknQRXnN67Io0Lk7jEcaQ1rzTCAarO1X3W4ew7hAtepM8Xnm8N-BNF3voy00DlJGAWHjwMmHx9Ng66065hPFTNopYYYb2lwPEZp4EGI08-pYg4x5lINN9QbYHWGR4sIJ7aLlOc=s780" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="780" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJFty0I2A1av8c_NIgH4x1GAQlafbID0ad0hXWr4OSMOtXmZknQRXnN67Io0Lk7jEcaQ1rzTCAarO1X3W4ew7hAtepM8Xnm8N-BNF3voy00DlJGAWHjwMmHx9Ng66065hPFTNopYYYb2lwPEZp4EGI08-pYg4x5lINN9QbYHWGR4sIJ7aLlOc=s320" width="320" /></a></b></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><b><b><br /></b></b></p><b>Encanto: </b>Watched this in a drive in theatre which made the experience even more enjoyable. It traces the story of The Madrigals-a family who live in the mountains in a place called Encanto. The Encanto blesses each child with a special gift. When Mirabel doesnt receive her gift, she feels like an outlier. However, when she discovers Encanto is in danger, she ends up being the last hope to save the place and her family. One thing I admire about animations is its ability to impart some sound lessons which makes it easier to resonate with the characters. My heart went out to Mirabel for feeling inadequate and not being considered good enough by the family matriarch. And yet she possesses the inherent magic in her to save the family from doom. An endearing film that captures the dynamics of a queer family and unlocks certain mysteries. <p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjRS2CVy0S0bdKBeTHTtfSzQltu5Oog2tMJHZbNYqOBNnnWsrVsvrL6SysIWfuASmGN6C3ZAot7XktYXlqbblDL2MMVWI3PGXjN5daRmHQkGeulIeMJPX6AIVPTrp3Kp6kICkfgI92XPTtHdjFMAZ_xq_GyC3MkQXEs6FjJ5l-HA2wMaMtnLCA=s940" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="529" data-original-width="940" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjRS2CVy0S0bdKBeTHTtfSzQltu5Oog2tMJHZbNYqOBNnnWsrVsvrL6SysIWfuASmGN6C3ZAot7XktYXlqbblDL2MMVWI3PGXjN5daRmHQkGeulIeMJPX6AIVPTrp3Kp6kICkfgI92XPTtHdjFMAZ_xq_GyC3MkQXEs6FjJ5l-HA2wMaMtnLCA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Spiderman: No way home: </b>Being a fan of the Spiderman Franchise, I couldnt miss this one. The story goes on to showcase how the identity of Spiderman is revealed and Peter Parker is unable to separate his normal life from his superhero one. As the story progresses, it depicts how the stakes are high and the dangers behind that masked suit. I liked it in some parts-the action sequences, the meeting of all three spider mans. However, there were parts in between which I felt were dragging. Watched it in a drive in theatre, wasnt sure if the effect would have been different in a regular theatre. Nevertheless it was an entertaining affair. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Some of the movies I look forward to watching this week are</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Tick Tick..boom</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The Tragedy of Macbeth</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Nightmare Alley</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Dont look up</p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-196041076346529812022-01-02T21:26:00.001-08:002022-01-02T21:27:58.974-08:0083: Movie review<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj82SVXCYdO6pcVbCGKEOIX92BvBi6UhOUuv_cCTLWP8WVkurwQKuXCkqn2ezOUrP4DjF79kNw9J1kjJG6RbEODzRNFuT-KqMMVJNdJjX8_zIzcm4fqQ3_e5NBaweOf93xrtazFVRDHGlapp7nADhTYPn08PV8BER8Me0c-tXwEGC91HxhORjc=s1012" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1012" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj82SVXCYdO6pcVbCGKEOIX92BvBi6UhOUuv_cCTLWP8WVkurwQKuXCkqn2ezOUrP4DjF79kNw9J1kjJG6RbEODzRNFuT-KqMMVJNdJjX8_zIzcm4fqQ3_e5NBaweOf93xrtazFVRDHGlapp7nADhTYPn08PV8BER8Me0c-tXwEGC91HxhORjc=s320" width="262" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> Being an ardent Cricket and Sports buff, I couldn't miss one. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">83 takes you back to the time when the Indian Cricket Team won their maiden world cup against the mighty West Indies, under the leadership of Kapil Dev. With players like Vivian Richards, Clive Lloyd and Michael Holding, West Indies were the clear favourites of the tournament. The film showcases the trials and tribulations of the Indian Cricket Team, their journey as underdogs and a team that never wins. Even their initial victories are considered as luck by chance. Right from the commentators, to sports critics and even the spectators. In the form of smirks, snide remarks, sarcastic digs or even a little boy's innocent remark stating how his father refuses to spend money on tickets as the team never wins. The viewers are immediately acquainted with the impression that the Indian team is easily dismissed and not taken seriously. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The film immerses you into the world of cricket-the camarderie between the team players, their diverse backgrounds, the dressing room dynamics, the sleding onfield, the captain's motivating words and his leadership that changes the attitude of the team. Besides being a story of a team, its also a story of an inspring leadership of a captain who believed that faith could move mountains. The scene when he addresses the press conference with a firm "we are here to win" sets the tone for the rest of the movie. Kapil Dev clearly meant business and he showcases it in his stoic manner. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was two years old and could not witness the frenzy of the wrld cup win. Watching it on big screen felt like I was time travelling. The actors played their parts to perfection and I felt as though I was watching Sunil gavaskar, Cheeka and Mohindar Amarnath playing those matches. The lead actor Ranveer Singh deserves an applause. He actually feels like Kapil Paaji in his speech and mannerisms in every reel. Right from his gait to his batting form. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sports biopics tend to elicit a lot of emotions. And this one was no exception. You cheer for his team when they seal their first victory against the mighty West Indies, you applaud his captains knock of 175 not out against Zimbabwe in a do or die match. You clap till your hands hurt for every boundary or a sixer. You cry with the team when they lose. You laugh at their gimmicks outside the field. You feel inspired at the Captain's words when they put up a low score of 183 in the finals. He says, 183 is enough if we fight for every run and do not let them score. And the rest is history. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Watching 83 felt like a riding on a roller coaster with those bitter sweet moments, laughter, tears and elation at having tasted success. There isnt a dull moment in the film. Such is the brilliant direction by Kabir Khan. I was lucky enough to watch a world cup victory in 2011 when India beat Sri Lanka at Wankhede. What a moment. The entire country was on the streets. I can imagine what it must have felt like in 83. One of the biggest takeaways from this film is to have faith in yoir own strength even if the world ridicules you. It can take you to places. This film deserves a standing ovation and is a must watch for every sports enthusiast. </div><p></p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-75087482641571007612022-01-02T19:25:00.001-08:002022-01-02T19:25:02.520-08:00Winter in Sokcho: Book review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhe_aax8CQoKji9AOGcCFQLgnjvjtgIbI_v-b67E2GbF7qiYeXBrkfGS5mW-ysGC1doomPNj3RnQ0aayWViareJj-7nW6gNAZElVK1J_0-3ygSlaHNVfWBdMCSaq6J04pLHPDGFMYfyHT3anoOqq-oLXuh15FhfE6YxIbJRCVUgLaYfB6FUCf8=s1024" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhe_aax8CQoKji9AOGcCFQLgnjvjtgIbI_v-b67E2GbF7qiYeXBrkfGS5mW-ysGC1doomPNj3RnQ0aayWViareJj-7nW6gNAZElVK1J_0-3ygSlaHNVfWBdMCSaq6J04pLHPDGFMYfyHT3anoOqq-oLXuh15FhfE6YxIbJRCVUgLaYfB6FUCf8=s320" width="200" /></a></div><br /><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Book Review</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Title: Winter in Sokcho</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Author: Elisa Shua Dusapin</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Genre: FictionTranslation (Korean)</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Winter in Sokcho is a book that can be read in one sitting. </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">It starts off with our protagonist-an unnamed narrator who we learn has just returned from University of Seoul to her hometown in Sokcho.She works as a receptionist in a run down hotel and her life is pretty mundane with her boyfriend, a mother who she doesn't want to live with and doing the regular chores. Things change with the arrival of a French artist named Kerrand. Taking her help, Kerrand explores the town of Sokcho and they form an unusual relationship. </div><div data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the strengths of the book is its atmospheric setting of the gloomy winter. The evocative prose lends well to the connections between the characters and also succeeds in making Winter a powerful character at times. It has an effect on other characters' lives. The author's characterization of the unnamed female narrator is also interesting. She explores her mind, body and eating habits, and subtly touches upon certain identity issues. However, there are times readers yearn to learn more about the narrator and whether she possibly faces mental health issues. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The vivid details and descriptions of the food lends to the authenticity of the setting. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Another highlight is the dynamics between the two characters-Kerrand and the unnamed narrator. While he is old enough to be her father, the narrator feels a strange attraction towards him. This unusual rapport is similar to the dynamics in the characters in the Japanese title Strange Weather in Tokyo. The narrative style is compelling and draws the readers into this world of divided boundaries and identities. We subtly learn about the history of North Korea and South Korea, the diving women from Jeju island and the dual nationality of the narrator. The incredible part of this book is its ability to transport you to a different place and also make the mundane things in life seem extraordinary. <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Winter in Sokcho offers some interesting conversations, a brooding setting, a simple yet an evocative story. </div><span style="color: #888888;"><br /></span></div>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-90351514607425345412022-01-01T22:47:00.001-08:002022-01-02T20:27:04.426-08:00Retracing 2021<p style="text-align: justify;">The year started out well. For the first time, I wasnt down with the flu end of this year.And just like every year, I'm retracing the journey in 2021. What a roller coaster of a year its been. Some good and celebratory moments, some challenging ones which involved some serious physical and mental health issues. Nevertheless, I've managed to survive these setbacks and come out stronger. There are some vital lessons I've learned which leads to some firm resolutions as I gear up for the new year. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiXiD14fAKhXye3V-eokoWiZ68GbxEn-AZqk5q5cNqQ6gcP_F7T3A6XDej-Sq0lyAbabzqm7uEGQ1LYaFmas_a2oPS7mO9ZVMfO_eBEG2VMt7YQlhvRWro_Gq8QCJqx9DloLJe7h2TavqC0NsK5qI5LPKuDRxm6O3y1p3cpzj_LbHUVuKuBC_M=s553" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="553" data-original-width="532" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiXiD14fAKhXye3V-eokoWiZ68GbxEn-AZqk5q5cNqQ6gcP_F7T3A6XDej-Sq0lyAbabzqm7uEGQ1LYaFmas_a2oPS7mO9ZVMfO_eBEG2VMt7YQlhvRWro_Gq8QCJqx9DloLJe7h2TavqC0NsK5qI5LPKuDRxm6O3y1p3cpzj_LbHUVuKuBC_M=s320" width="308" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>January </b></p><p style="text-align: justify;"> For once I wasnt suffering from the flu or bouts of cough or cold. While we were in the second lock down mode, the outdoor recreation was thankfully still open. So I was able to get my swims, runs and bike rides done. This retained my sanity which helped me start my second semester at University which was on zoom. January was pretty smooth sailing and I received my first recognition as an author. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjJkUTow-d1QqAgIHCBRMbsS31ESyLroVwf17M5PJ8pJYS_97XwmCuIblR6Ha1kWavruMn1T96z3YfgJPHIGAk8Vh16zF_AmVgooIHch6Xq2RvibmQvaxnSh3ITIn2oXpwdARrJl__mTjhQu2ZH2SjRG8ZbwSYI2LGSQJpl1aHwEcDg0Ww-EY=s960" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjJkUTow-d1QqAgIHCBRMbsS31ESyLroVwf17M5PJ8pJYS_97XwmCuIblR6Ha1kWavruMn1T96z3YfgJPHIGAk8Vh16zF_AmVgooIHch6Xq2RvibmQvaxnSh3ITIn2oXpwdARrJl__mTjhQu2ZH2SjRG8ZbwSYI2LGSQJpl1aHwEcDg0Ww-EY=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>February</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">My semester was in full swing. I was writing two short stories for my workshop which was quite exhausting. I also had to do a presentation on a short story. It was overall a busy time. I also received some nominations for book awards. The highlight of the month was being able to meet some of my cohort in person. A few of us decided to meet up in person in the city, maintaining social distance, of course. It felt good to actually meet people as opposed to see faces on zoom. February again was a smooth month. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPN-jpc2c63a28Oj-RNOw_cr_ZdXLNFvAwPcSsBMNoSZFJ4-EGQwjI7s5zSqSMlBuu9LX7tPGfVuk4t0RpfVwrKy5nNxU6u7QcDbcdLFDmU65Z0l7auzcEpRygn6C9eDQAWDo-W8n8sSsjCKiYMAzzSN81DQpeDfxs-ESiD5gpBC0i-wYYVAA=s671" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="671" data-original-width="671" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPN-jpc2c63a28Oj-RNOw_cr_ZdXLNFvAwPcSsBMNoSZFJ4-EGQwjI7s5zSqSMlBuu9LX7tPGfVuk4t0RpfVwrKy5nNxU6u7QcDbcdLFDmU65Z0l7auzcEpRygn6C9eDQAWDo-W8n8sSsjCKiYMAzzSN81DQpeDfxs-ESiD5gpBC0i-wYYVAA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>March </b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">This month started off on a high note with a couple of awards for my book-A Turbulent Mind'. It was humbling and gratifying to receive recognition for my first book. I was riding high until mid March. I wasnt sure what really happened but I began to feel like the character in Elena Ferrante's Days of Abandonment. No one really abandoned me but I began on a descent to depression. During spring break, I began to feel listless, lost my appetite and would spend my time staring out of the window. There was no rational explanation as to why I felt this way. Things were going good both on my personal and professional front. It took immense effort to fight this battle.After ten days, I began to show signs of recovery and I went back to my semester with a better frame of mind. Its daunting as to how the mind can trick you into thinking that something is wrong when it isnt. These were times, I was trascending between reality and illusion. Nevertheless, I was glad to get back to normalcy. Another high point or rather a relief point was that I received the Moderna vaccine end of the month. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEituR228VkS2L6fVmFRuaLE8eXPO-75-7verm1W_hT-Hz-Udg4mkJkNWwVN81Kn8wo5-4krIBF2zGW7qGICR_DKgNX11XeEGCIbH8dWh6TL2qZTXoqwomWW-NwTDxMR_nQ6gwt4mN1M5YcYmxfOPAzZtHF1AGrtWk84RaUC4u1UZZLAgYhzQMY=s864" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="827" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEituR228VkS2L6fVmFRuaLE8eXPO-75-7verm1W_hT-Hz-Udg4mkJkNWwVN81Kn8wo5-4krIBF2zGW7qGICR_DKgNX11XeEGCIbH8dWh6TL2qZTXoqwomWW-NwTDxMR_nQ6gwt4mN1M5YcYmxfOPAzZtHF1AGrtWk84RaUC4u1UZZLAgYhzQMY=s320" width="306" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>April</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The month started off on a good note with a visit to the Tulip Garden. The plethora of colors was such a pretty sight. Another high point was my book getting featured in The Week magazine as a part of the list of writers that empowered the world through their writing. My third short story was received well in my workshop. Other high points included my daughter's birthday and my wedding anniversary. I received my second shot of the vaccine, experienced fever and chills but recovered in a day or two. April was also good as I began HIIT training after a year and two months. It felt so good to go back to the studio and push myself. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiuJtyfjDlxdlpwX1D8rgAql179rsvqOTZoW1MkOreVxu3umcdzNDa2UT7JpHpO3O_vHqSq5w_93xlYjSXBF5ANVfQbZAOFucb_Hba6m_KmxT7MZrTvUgN8K04tfbfPjsrA4BDekMHrc4pDrCP-6BxlwXp-BUAttgXTATV0eWQEZISLoBNbtg4=s1527" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1527" data-original-width="827" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiuJtyfjDlxdlpwX1D8rgAql179rsvqOTZoW1MkOreVxu3umcdzNDa2UT7JpHpO3O_vHqSq5w_93xlYjSXBF5ANVfQbZAOFucb_Hba6m_KmxT7MZrTvUgN8K04tfbfPjsrA4BDekMHrc4pDrCP-6BxlwXp-BUAttgXTATV0eWQEZISLoBNbtg4=s320" width="173" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>May</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The month began on a high note with a feature in outlook India and receiving the Rabindranath Tagore certificate, honoring me as an author. The best part was to receive it on his birthday (May 7). My semester ended and I began my thesis work. It was a tough month with deadlines to meet. I was trying to get back my intensity in my fitness regime, train for some triathlons and running events. Stress began to set in and this was only the beginning. May also involved some misunderstandings which resulted in a few relationships going down the drain. Perhaps they were not meant to be and despite not having received any closure, I chanellised all my energies into my work. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhu83L8aZ3z7x3PkIQvpHC0jCTPogRa7gWisSrTExNayCYc6ByHltvBpCkrV-pav1hTl-vAIiaQqiGZzTMr9YBh8wCGhxdj6tybMsTjDiI2Hc6wrSzI8-h8wCWaQc-cyAXRdwuyJOKaC4SGtInZ8cTfpUgdlD7pDXUrWdbTGs8lSW3cYse-V0=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhu83L8aZ3z7x3PkIQvpHC0jCTPogRa7gWisSrTExNayCYc6ByHltvBpCkrV-pav1hTl-vAIiaQqiGZzTMr9YBh8wCGhxdj6tybMsTjDiI2Hc6wrSzI8-h8wCWaQc-cyAXRdwuyJOKaC4SGtInZ8cTfpUgdlD7pDXUrWdbTGs8lSW3cYse-V0=s320" width="240" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlRoVbRbjILlfOy-L5fpuGeUszuGjtX40nVDRNnP3TjNl1qSfvIyr1v9LMkWiS2mYeb1bYO8DfDsc272z-d1_z-TImgpvCVt7-hm5otDfHvpo5emlwzMBtnedtuGGmO13-qivVviDWUcHgiPbk0hTOXGmw4RngKBfmJpAD4JASAO7c9Ad6XoA=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlRoVbRbjILlfOy-L5fpuGeUszuGjtX40nVDRNnP3TjNl1qSfvIyr1v9LMkWiS2mYeb1bYO8DfDsc272z-d1_z-TImgpvCVt7-hm5otDfHvpo5emlwzMBtnedtuGGmO13-qivVviDWUcHgiPbk0hTOXGmw4RngKBfmJpAD4JASAO7c9Ad6XoA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>June</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Things were opening out. I visited beaches and trails. This was a torrid month. I took a decision to opt out of the Ironman 70.3 race as my training wasnt up to the mark. With my thesis deadlines, there was no time to put in the hours of training required to train for a 70.3 race. I had to stick to only Olympic distances this year. And then in the middle of June, I fell sick. It wasnt covid but just a viral infection. Cold and incessant coughing for days which left me sleepless, tired and irritable. To make matters worse, I had to skip training for ten days. The last straw was that the virus triggered my dormant ulcers and my ulcerative colitis flared again. The only bright points were celebrating my 40th birthday, doing a swim around the ocean on my birthday, getting to know that my book was a finalist at the American Book award and received a honourable mention at the San Francisco Book festival. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8d9O_oYvPaqY3B0qsvWSNDy2X3_zkyfmZMnSpu3oDSa7ySJ6rLA1rDrWKXslLPv_H59jiI7YJUHJnvEOhU4fF6PwgBG05YGdaWioW0P_NuOVY6rToyhOUeAEC4td42oPM5SK4onSHbMDp2rIRgm7l_XzQ74j5NGDPzvpNioh-G8HhG-S7GCY=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8d9O_oYvPaqY3B0qsvWSNDy2X3_zkyfmZMnSpu3oDSa7ySJ6rLA1rDrWKXslLPv_H59jiI7YJUHJnvEOhU4fF6PwgBG05YGdaWioW0P_NuOVY6rToyhOUeAEC4td42oPM5SK4onSHbMDp2rIRgm7l_XzQ74j5NGDPzvpNioh-G8HhG-S7GCY=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>July</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">July saw some sense of recovery. The best part was I was finishing my thesis deadlines end of the month. It was a struggle as my ulcers persisted. I began to take some medication which helped in the healing process. High points were that I ran my first 10 km race after 15 months. My timing was way off than what it had been prior to the pandemic. I knew it was tough, considering my health had taken a toll, and i was juggling multiple things at the same time. Nevertheless, it felt good to be back to doing events, crossing the finish line, getting the finishers medal. I also reconnected with my triathlon group and ended up training with them. The downside was certain misunderstandings that crept up in some relationships which made me lose faith in the concepr of friendship. I decided to take a break and focus on my work instead. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgc_gEKE4UpE2fdgt5uawMgLJ2NTkiJnSQ9ms5qaiC-jShvVorLot4yZKJo9_5xkNr2bFXvZKrTFmHziQmoI5ubTe2_LBm8XKZgj03wI6nAgz3S6-YO8PFBOQNTpiHDAYGhkdHmAN2v8i-ALXeSfBXiGPu71LjS1x2Dae4AhmghwWoPP051As=s3780" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3780" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgc_gEKE4UpE2fdgt5uawMgLJ2NTkiJnSQ9ms5qaiC-jShvVorLot4yZKJo9_5xkNr2bFXvZKrTFmHziQmoI5ubTe2_LBm8XKZgj03wI6nAgz3S6-YO8PFBOQNTpiHDAYGhkdHmAN2v8i-ALXeSfBXiGPu71LjS1x2Dae4AhmghwWoPP051As=s320" width="256" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>August</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">My first triathlon race after the pandemic. It was my 9th olympic distance and it wasnt a strong race at all.I was dejected and disheartened as I kept comparing myself with the timing in 2019. I had to tell myself that I wasnt the same person I was in 2019 and that i'll come back stronger in 2022. My husband asked me to celebrate the finish and the finisher's medal. And I did. The training diligently continued. The high point was watching the olympics and deriving a lot of inspiration from them. Another high point was that my fall semester began and this time it was in person. It felt good to go back to campus, meet and interact with cohorts. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjjyJePdd5UmFLtMU31wmFElL-UQlz8TriMQKGH7v4SJYkLUJvPlB4wsUKetFc-HfkTzITtZUhY5ADrSQDnW_OlAlGaPahKyYKsR5Lmj273KeqPoXL9ZCM0QQ3lkQPSXpVcjXm1Pz-uO4N09ndfV16ny5UXU4gTbpMqnpJeSm5mZJzdFNLexTg=s3751" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3751" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjjyJePdd5UmFLtMU31wmFElL-UQlz8TriMQKGH7v4SJYkLUJvPlB4wsUKetFc-HfkTzITtZUhY5ADrSQDnW_OlAlGaPahKyYKsR5Lmj273KeqPoXL9ZCM0QQ3lkQPSXpVcjXm1Pz-uO4N09ndfV16ny5UXU4gTbpMqnpJeSm5mZJzdFNLexTg=s320" width="258" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>September</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The fall semester was in full swing. The work load and travel to the campus was taking a toll on me. I did a gruelling trail run at San Francisco. However, it was a month where misunderstandings deepened with unkind and unwarranted comments about my apperance. I took a break from social media and was compelled to get rid of toxic contacts and friendships. The month worsened as I was unable to do the San Francisco half marathon which I was looking forward to. Later at a triathlon race, I lost my goggles and had to opt out of the swim. It had been a month of set backs but some vital learning lessons. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1RyXpK_bpwDLMmRKYalO7uzOtKoJNGwPNmRf6shgyQYfhZCX4sKpUKqyuPNbg-ozT4PsRhdTLQ7LCgPhFtNHkA_Q_-T3e_qgjFwK0qSsJIDagCmJmNx_rP3efbvAYvZaBaIRZnYHtfgBHJ9m6ScgObaP2-NaLA7ZV-cngCYYmJkqrq_Ym-LI=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1RyXpK_bpwDLMmRKYalO7uzOtKoJNGwPNmRf6shgyQYfhZCX4sKpUKqyuPNbg-ozT4PsRhdTLQ7LCgPhFtNHkA_Q_-T3e_qgjFwK0qSsJIDagCmJmNx_rP3efbvAYvZaBaIRZnYHtfgBHJ9m6ScgObaP2-NaLA7ZV-cngCYYmJkqrq_Ym-LI=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>October</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">October started off on a decent note with the Sn Jose rock and roll run. I was glad to be able to do a heart rate based run as advised by my coach. It was a hot day and the run wasnt easy. Things began to pick up gradually. My ulcers were healed, I was training harder and I became fitter. My mental make up was getting better with every workout. On the professional front, I was learning a lot in terms of craft. I wrote a short story. The downside was that bouts of homesickness began to creep in. I was feeling fatigued with the workload and longed to visit India as I havent been able to visit in the last 2 and a half years. The month ended on a high note with a Haloween run where I dressed up as the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgLQQtm7HVoQPM18Hf-uXJFDvptOgjugTH15n8H-4kuG4uJbRK8K786kVwHgX26w9gTA30ghvHSRW3zzS8OwZ0iS8pZtJ2nPlJKU-TOJCcFbSWvby5rWAjNrIKbSIc3hu7diP6Ces0rpoZuXaEXR5IFoqLhh0KPJZU48gDCvdUvM3dDJLs7EAA=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgLQQtm7HVoQPM18Hf-uXJFDvptOgjugTH15n8H-4kuG4uJbRK8K786kVwHgX26w9gTA30ghvHSRW3zzS8OwZ0iS8pZtJ2nPlJKU-TOJCcFbSWvby5rWAjNrIKbSIc3hu7diP6Ces0rpoZuXaEXR5IFoqLhh0KPJZU48gDCvdUvM3dDJLs7EAA=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>November</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">This was a turbulent month with fatigue, deciding not to take up a responsible position of my newsletter. I received a couple of rejections for my stories which left me disheartened and shattered. It made me wonder if writing was actually the right profession for me. Later I learned that rejections were a part of every authors journey before they received acceptance. My workshop went off well and I was happy to receive positive feedback. I ran my 40th half marathon this month during my Thanksgiving vacation and got to enjoy a small break at San Luis Obispo. It was refreshing to sit by the beaches and listen to the sound of waves. For the first time, we did a Turkey Trot and explored a beautiful trail. We watched King Richard and Encanto in a drive in theatre which was an enjoyable experience. The month ended on a high note with an acceotance from one of the lit journals. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEjC9w9W6lzJciH4W4IArcGiwdF5lQV22kRfWLR3ehxqhPFpNllz8zf0hmxA423wt93sFxAyJw6rgbnloUEQcpiTVCfruR_mfqdQpgzsNaNC8FnUPxQvj_btTGJqbqIJ81OmJmpb7Yt3JvL70dz0p2rW8uWzhETwQ1NMjQ-HY063h-LICq3Eg=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEjC9w9W6lzJciH4W4IArcGiwdF5lQV22kRfWLR3ehxqhPFpNllz8zf0hmxA423wt93sFxAyJw6rgbnloUEQcpiTVCfruR_mfqdQpgzsNaNC8FnUPxQvj_btTGJqbqIJ81OmJmpb7Yt3JvL70dz0p2rW8uWzhETwQ1NMjQ-HY063h-LICq3Eg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>December</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The month began on a high note with an acceptance from one of the most prestigious workshops-Tin house. My semester ended on a high note and I've been revising my thesis since then, finished reading three books. I did a 15 km run and met a runner friend after two years. It felt good to meet and greet familiar faces. I visited Bodega Bay and got to drive up to Jack London State Historic park, getting to understand about the author's life, his setbacks and success stories. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">One of the biggest learnings this year has been to not lose heart when life throws curveballs at you. True that my health hasnt been at its best but its on the road to recovery. I realized that it was best to throw away some toxic relationships even if it means having lesser people in your life. Its no point being aquainted with someone who brings stress in your life. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Some of my resolutions for 2022 are as follows</p><p style="text-align: justify;">1. To continue reading more books, write new stories and hopefully try and get them published.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">2. To continue working on my fitness diligently and hopefully by end of 2022, I'll be back to my old run and triathlon timings. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">3. To try and relax a lot more. for instance I've reconnected with music and listening to it a lot more these days-from pop to rock to EDM.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">4. Try and watch some good meaningful cinema.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Lsstly that my own competition is with myself-this applies to both my fitness and writing. </p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-21548204817663146422021-12-28T12:21:00.001-08:002022-01-02T19:26:06.629-08:00The Enlightenment of the Greengage tree : Book review<p style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: small;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1LzRLwnuDho9XS7e3RT48excLA80lWowSr_Raawfphb_iyi9562FrjoAipZQVHRDgjIWJyLEcLdBCsDpzNL3jZGG4wBQl1zIeUDq1GpRIiEeCse_4sU4Nd0vPYaxyFNV8ZqS4oxDIpsLiRVplPT1gkFvbKf9PBC9pQ_143j3gO0H2TkgHMsY=s2497" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2497" data-original-width="1596" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1LzRLwnuDho9XS7e3RT48excLA80lWowSr_Raawfphb_iyi9562FrjoAipZQVHRDgjIWJyLEcLdBCsDpzNL3jZGG4wBQl1zIeUDq1GpRIiEeCse_4sU4Nd0vPYaxyFNV8ZqS4oxDIpsLiRVplPT1gkFvbKf9PBC9pQ_143j3gO0H2TkgHMsY=s320" width="205" /></a></div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222;">Book Review</span><p></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Title: The Enlightenment of the Greengage tree</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Author: Shokoofeh Azar</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Genre: Fiction/Translation(Persian)</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The Enlightenment of the Greengage tree immerses you into a world where reading and writing are considered as treason. The mere act of reading could cost one's home, belongings or even their life. </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The story explores the trials and tribulations of a family of five who moved from the countryside to Tehran during 1979. The parents Roza and Hushang lose their three children under grim circumstances that involve bloodshed, massacre and resistance. We have relatives of the family who arrive and disappear without a trace. The narrator is thirteen year old Bahar who we learn is a ghost and lingers around the treehouse and her family members. She takes us through the series of events-her brother Sohrab's imprisonment, burning of libraries, cultural artifacts, her sister Beeta turning into a mermaid by the powers of an ancestor and how she is objectified. </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The author's narrative style is achingly beautiful and poetic, painting the terror that took place during the Iranian revolution. She describes the pain endured by its people, the myriad emotions-suffering, betrayal, infidelity, loss of identity, She manages to blend the supernatural and fantastical elements with the revolution and the political upheaval. The fantasy element does not offer a tool of escapism but an extension of the rather bizarre reality.</div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">There are a lot of references to literature,reading and writing. We learn how Roza fell in love with a poet and her dreams of becoming a poet remain unfulfilled. The author takes us to a world of jinns, Persian folklore, myths, and the confinement of Iranian women. Some instances leave you feeling disturbed and helpless just like the narrator. An interesting fact is how the author portrays the passage of time while the thirteen year old narrator still remains as she is, as she remarks how it feels strange to still be thirteen and see her father age beyond years. </div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The Enlightenment of greengage tree addresses the terrors of a country, the appearance and disappearance of people and defies logic, Yet, it's a remarkably poignant and evocative, leaving you feeling rather melancholic. l</div><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #888888;"></span></p><div><div data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr"><div><br /></div></div></div>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-57064915507989242902021-12-20T19:40:00.003-08:002021-12-20T19:40:30.995-08:00Mexican Gothic : Book review<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7Xf3djjBqHgYDxBvOoe0rNvb-UP57hNUIcoheXRx-Ey9DlxzA9xDlFV-Ek3QsoHSaWGqwhH9JpuJXganQEbXZ6yceZ5kIQ0VeLtQARn3uBod2MC1-iE1YJIMQSEdLJyHfqfSL-2yuXoVyVcwnBL3-CbWus1x1LHSH8C7xC8sL2YRds7cUnN4=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7Xf3djjBqHgYDxBvOoe0rNvb-UP57hNUIcoheXRx-Ey9DlxzA9xDlFV-Ek3QsoHSaWGqwhH9JpuJXganQEbXZ6yceZ5kIQ0VeLtQARn3uBod2MC1-iE1YJIMQSEdLJyHfqfSL-2yuXoVyVcwnBL3-CbWus1x1LHSH8C7xC8sL2YRds7cUnN4=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Book review</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Title: Mexican Gothic</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Author: Silvia Moreno Garcia</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Genre: Horror</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Mexican Gothic is a dark, brilliant and captivating read that transports the readers to the 1950s Mexico where dark secrets lurk and sends a chill down your spine. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">We have our protagonist- Noemi Taboada who heads to High palace, a house in the Mexican countryside, after receiving a disturbing letter from her cousin Catalina. She soon leaves her life of being a glamorous socialite to attend to her cousin’s troubles. Naomi is smart and confident who is not afraid of anyone, including her hostile hosts- her cousin’s wily husband or his patriarchal father. Besides her cousin’s deteriorating health, Noemi discovers bizarre images, dark secrets hidden beneath the walls of High palace, falls prey to sleepwalking and strange dreams. Noemi’s only ally in this dark house is the family’s youngest son. What ensues is an atmospheric and eerie plot turns out into grotesque, deadly and dark adventures. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">One of the strong aspects of the book is the characterization of Noemi. While she thrives in cocktail parties, she comes across as someone who is tough, gritty, smart and harbors ambitions to pursue her Masters at the University. Her unlikely rescue expedition in the most hostile circumstances makes her admirable. In line with her characterization, the author highlights the plight of women- how they are exploited from asserting their rights, lending to the theme of sexism. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">The language also lends to the gothic element of the plot-right from the author’s descriptions of the characters or High place itself. It feels like a mash up of Jane Eyre, Rebecca and The Turn of the screw to an extent. The plot unfolds gradually taking the readers into a rather dark place with shocking secrets. The setting appears claustrophobic in both a literal and metaphorical sense. High place seems to be a house that binds the characters under its clutches and the social setting seems to depict how women are suppressed from voicing their views. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Mexican Gothic is no doubt creepy. Nevertheless it’s absorbing, haunting and entices you into its sinister world. </div><span style="color: #888888;"></span></div><span style="color: #888888;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: start;">--</span><span style="color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: start;"> </span></div><span style="color: #888888; text-align: start;"><div data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><br /></div></span></div>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-28103321721308248162021-12-12T08:40:00.001-08:002021-12-12T08:40:03.114-08:00The Hole : Book review<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzUrpw1k3a48CFqvzKGtAvJwLmihq3If1vLxGUZZkEJiEblC42UkfFh6o9QAB_caFsjlsmYOwNJOQhnC-oO4e4rJ0Z62GsJ8SfWvR8VAZ2mEYh_QFttoi7quuvcAPhuqYD6hpLsg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzUrpw1k3a48CFqvzKGtAvJwLmihq3If1vLxGUZZkEJiEblC42UkfFh6o9QAB_caFsjlsmYOwNJOQhnC-oO4e4rJ0Z62GsJ8SfWvR8VAZ2mEYh_QFttoi7quuvcAPhuqYD6hpLsg/" width="180" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Book review</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Title: The Hole</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Author: Hye-Young Pyun</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Genre: Psychological Fiction/Translation (Korean)</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The Hole is one such read that crawls under your skin and takes you into a journey of darkness and isolation. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">It tells the story of a man named Oghi who wakes up from coma and finds out he is paralyzed. While he is unable to talk or move, Oghi is able to identify smells and sounds around him. He discovers his wife died in a car accident and he is at the mercy of his only caretaker- his grieving widowed mother in law. Oghi is a prisoner in his own body and dwells on memories of his wife. When Oghi finds his mother in law fervently digging in his wife’s garden, he begins to feel uneasy. While his mother in law responds saying she was completing her daughter’s unfinished project. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The Hole is narrated in close third person from the point of view of Oghi. Through his interiority and stream of consciousness, the author lends voice to Oghi who otherwise is unable to converse with any other character in the story. The structure is non linear alternating between Oghi and his flashbacks. The narrative branches out in different directions, giving a glimpse of Oghi’s wife’s life, her fascination for famous people and their relationship. It delves into Oghi’s life who is orphaned and some of his dark secrets. It’s interesting how the rest of the characters are unnamed besides Oghi. Even his friends are referred as mere alphabetical letters. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The author explores the effects of trauma, loneliness and isolation. The characters are complex which makes the readers wonder if they are revenge thirsty or plain grieving and lonely souls. The tone of the book gives the reader an unsettling feeling. Almost like dealing with an unsolved mystery with a gothic element lingering in the background. The Hole also deals with other nuances like family relationships, narcissism, service and duty. It can be classified as a thriller, sometimes as domestic fiction. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Reading The Hole is an experience by itself. Engaging and compelling, it tends to entwine the readers into a web.</div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-- <br /></span></p><div data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr"><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><br /></div></div>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-9716402295601166252021-12-05T21:10:00.003-08:002021-12-05T21:10:23.836-08:00We were liars : Book review<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknAqe0ZwEIVXdV-WvFp3_jGDbsDDEM2P3A_nFKGRrOp1-0RA9Wu4cBZNoJo560EfLV8SNJW0wt5ZlOKwTEFs7eD0Ym3qNO8ZPP4vQKER_aysNDRyRRfkbX_v_Fba7MVeYPlD2xA/s2048/unnamed-547.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknAqe0ZwEIVXdV-WvFp3_jGDbsDDEM2P3A_nFKGRrOp1-0RA9Wu4cBZNoJo560EfLV8SNJW0wt5ZlOKwTEFs7eD0Ym3qNO8ZPP4vQKER_aysNDRyRRfkbX_v_Fba7MVeYPlD2xA/s320/unnamed-547.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Book review</div><p></p><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Title We were liars </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Author: e. Lockhart</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">Genre: Thriller/Mystery</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">We were liars is an intriguing read about an illustrious family and a group of four friends whose friendship changes after an accident. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">We have our narrator- Cadence who spends her summers at a family estate in Martha’s Vineyard. She makes a group with her two cousins and a friend who call themselves as the liars. They live in a world separate from the adult world. An unexpected accident changes their lives forever. Cadence is found on the beach one night and is unable to remember anything. The narrative goes on to explore what really happened. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">The entire book is told in first person from the point of view of Cadence. The chapters read like vignettes, almost like fragments of a memory which reflects the state of mind of Cadence. It gives a glimpse of a typical rich family where children are dependent on their family money. The voice of Cadence is the most powerful aspect in the story. The characters aren’t necessarily well developed and the language reads like little fractures. This lends well with the narrator who is trying to put her life back together.</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">The plot unravels and unfolds slowly taking the readers into murky waters. There are interesting twists and turns with an unexpected ending. The author has also inserted bits of fairy tales in between the chapters. It makes an interesting portrayal of the blurred lines between reality and illusion. The fairy tale also reflects the affluent Sinclair family. <br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;">We were liars is a gripping story that keeps you hooked till the end. The ending will leave you shocked and jolted. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(136, 136, 136); color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(136, 136, 136); color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">--</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span></div><span style="color: #888888;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></span><p></p><div data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(136, 136, 136); color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></div>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-81878232452480589082021-12-05T21:09:00.002-08:002021-12-05T21:09:11.011-08:00The Archer: Book review<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvWboMQMDNppQ_oAtaohoRw3lG_cqvK-bRqF9EI40QI8PKgybqelb4titqtA7QHCeDJ5hWLPi5bpMl0drVAspBPsfxEuGB0Ky32IwAAjv_Ro-tLrOvF_ueynN-WrpjzCKA2nrVQ/s1250/unnamed-546.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1250" data-original-width="815" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvWboMQMDNppQ_oAtaohoRw3lG_cqvK-bRqF9EI40QI8PKgybqelb4titqtA7QHCeDJ5hWLPi5bpMl0drVAspBPsfxEuGB0Ky32IwAAjv_Ro-tLrOvF_ueynN-WrpjzCKA2nrVQ/s320/unnamed-546.jpg" width="209" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Book review</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Title: The Archer</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Author: Shruti Swamy</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Genre: Fiction</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The Archer is a coming of age story of a woman who finds solace in an ancient form of dance. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The story focuses on the life of Vidya - a girl who is growing up in Bombay in the 60s. During her childhood, Vidya’s mother disappears from her life and Vidya is left to look after her father and younger brother. To overcome her grief and loneliness, Vidya finds solace in Kathak and trains under a reputed teacher. Simultaneously we see Vidya facing prejudices against her dark skin that makes her retreat into her shell further. We follow her journey to engineering college, falling in love with another woman, her marriage to a son of an illustrious family and pursuing her artistic dreams. An unexpected occurrence changes the fate of Vidya’s life. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The story is divided into five parts. It seamlessly moves forward in time tracing the different phases in Vidya’s life. The language is soulful, poetic, rhythmic and almost feels like the dance form of Kathak. The complexity of Vidya’s character intrigues her reader. She is seen as someone independent. Yet she chooses to follow the path that she once vowed to never to tread on. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The Archer is narrated in first person from Vidya’s point of view. It’s evident how Kathak plays a significant role in her life. To Vidya, Kathak provides the solace, the freedom and escape from the rather patriarchal world she lives in . An escape from the societal and traditional norms she’s forced to comply. The relationship between Vidya and her teacher forms an interesting angle. The author draws parallels to Eklavya’s relationship to Drona. She also manages to capture the vibe of Bombay in the 60s in an authentic manner. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The Archer is an interesting read for its melancholic prose and ability to merge art and the human soul into one.</div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-- <br /></span></p><div data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr"><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><br /></div></div>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-9558795995419244642021-11-10T20:23:00.001-08:002021-11-10T20:23:11.713-08:00The Cleveland Heights : Book Review<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhatWN_garMT0W_SMzyw4WlPYsFYLhl837qfhEwy_B9-GwPtUb-LW7nb2MI079-nmlTfZdQHGZd0TCvsJWkzFRsA3NXhBW1wk2pQuzfBcO3MeHuOuI339WzSoLsigQFGqzoVH1fUA/s500/51mq%252B%252B6UMxS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="322" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhatWN_garMT0W_SMzyw4WlPYsFYLhl837qfhEwy_B9-GwPtUb-LW7nb2MI079-nmlTfZdQHGZd0TCvsJWkzFRsA3NXhBW1wk2pQuzfBcO3MeHuOuI339WzSoLsigQFGqzoVH1fUA/s320/51mq%252B%252B6UMxS.jpg" width="206" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> Book Review<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Title: The Cleveland Heights</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Author: Doug Henderson</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Genre: Sci fi/Fantasy </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The Cleveland Heights is an interesting story within the story. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Every Thursday We have our protagonist twenty-five-year-old Ben-a gamer who lives with his family in a basement. He is your regular guy who is warding off his mother’s pestering questions and nursing a broken heart. He also suffers from a low self-confidence. The only place where Ben feels confident is Readmore-a store of comics and games. Every Thursday night, he and his friends get together to play a game-filled with dungeons and dragons. Things begin to take a sudden turn when the parallels between the real life and fantasy one become stronger. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The Cleveland Heights is a quick read with some interesting characters. They are people you instantly connect with. Ben is openly Gay along with other characters. He is nerdy and enjoys spending time with his cat. He longs for a real relationship and is on the quest for love. While this isn’t exactly a love story as such, elements of romance are brought out in all the characters’ lives. It’s interesting how the story begins to take a turn projecting blurred lines between the fantasy and real world. One of the strengths of the book lies in the author’s world building ability. Another thing relatable in the story is the character’s tendency to find solace in the world of gaming or technology because of his inability to fit in with the society. The writing is fluid and simple. Themes of relationships and sexuality are touched upon here. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Overall this book made a fun and queer read. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32285949.post-81260149987252307122021-11-10T18:33:00.003-08:002021-11-10T18:33:52.394-08:00The Mermaid of Black Conch : Book review <div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5dZa7KoHGgElqc88sAIv9x-Qr8g2jpFjNzBmjRmxZa4TKWw_mafB9XS4OrKN5BwaAB_fo_S7hekYNPf9Dckn8fuEW1HFYbe8sLa4bqoH8rQuGjXfBxD_DdqAaZsGaIlQ1hpPrQw/s2048/9198tVjKW3L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1342" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5dZa7KoHGgElqc88sAIv9x-Qr8g2jpFjNzBmjRmxZa4TKWw_mafB9XS4OrKN5BwaAB_fo_S7hekYNPf9Dckn8fuEW1HFYbe8sLa4bqoH8rQuGjXfBxD_DdqAaZsGaIlQ1hpPrQw/s320/9198tVjKW3L.jpg" width="210" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Book review</div></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Title: The Mermaid of Black Conch</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Author: Monique Roffey</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Genre: Fiction</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Based on legends, The Mermaid of Black Conch tells the story of a woman named Aycayia who is cursed by jealous women to live as a mermaid. We have David who sings to himself on his boat. Aycayia is drawn to the guitar and his music. Their rendezvous is brought to an end with the appearance of American fisherman who capture this mermaid. When David rescues here, it results in a great amount of transformation. Along with this transformation comes a lot of challenges. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The story is set in the Caribbean islands. The language is lucid and vivid with a great deal</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">of imagery. There are doses of poetry thrown in between. Characterization is one of the strongest aspects in the book. It’s amazing how the author cuts across a wide range of characters- the mermaid, David, David’s landowner, the police chief and the greedy fisherman. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Another interesting aspect of the book is how the mythical element of the book is beautifully blended with realistic events. Despite the existence of the mermaid’s character, it’s far from a fairy tale. The dark portions are showcased in the parts where the men torture the mermaid. And yet the love story between David and Aycacia is tender and gradual as David works to earn her trust.,Themes of community, friendship and family are touched upon here. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The Mermaid of Black Conch is an enchanting and mythical read. It explores a women’s story of survival and healing.</div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #888888; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-- <br /></span></p><div data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr"><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><br /></div></div>Whirlwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269400662935078823noreply@blogger.com0