A duffel bag and an intense book
Thats pretty much it as I head off to good ol' Hyderabad to meet friends. Several of them are moving on to new phases - ones going to be married before I graduate and the other is going back to her roots in Bangalore. They have been companions on the several years we led the gypsy life moving from country to country and city to city. This would pretty much leave me as the last gypsy standing - Man! Am I faithful to the cause or what. Dont tell that to all my uncles and aunts down south who think I am the ultimate black goat. I tried suggesting an upgrade to sheep but they were adamant - sheep are nice, you Sir are nothing but a goat and a black one at that. Go put some Cuticura talc on your face or something. And what kind of mallu goat are you anyway ? Dont like Mahmooty and Mohanlal! Blasphemy - nee erangi poda! (loosely translated as get lost).
And my movie binge was broken by a strong book reco by a friend who got it from yet another friend who is "oh so intellectual" who in turn got it from a "self confessed feminist of the first degree" (whatever that means). Anyway so off I headed to the local Crossword store to see if they have the book in question - especially since I was ordered to submit a precis as proof that I had read the book.
It has been almost 48 hours since I purchased "Bodies in Motion" at an astronomical price I might add. I had to drown my sorrow in several equally expensive cups of coffee in the inhouse cafe to overcome the shock.
Maybe its the melanchloic weather, or maybe its because I have all the time in the world (in between writing reports that are due the day I reach back on campus), but this book is sure taking its time. Its bold, I'll give it that and Mohanraj does have a nice writing style. But at times the book really goes into overkill mode - like one of the those never ending soap operas where every body seems to have been in love with everyone else at some point in time.
A book review by Michelle Reale covers most of what I felt.
" ...
So many of the stories are tinged with a sadness, with the expectations of life being dashed in often cruel and banal ways, such as the subtle and almost undetectable indiscretion a father has toward his daughter, a man in a "sham" marriage who desires other men, a young bride who takes comfort on her honeymoon night in the arms of her sister-in-law, and a married woman who wonders, more than once, if her aging body might still have the power to tempt. Surprisingly, too, the stories contain much resiliency and resignation to the human condition. Families are torn asunder, separated, alienated from one another, and more than occasionally function at cross purposes, but what triumphs is, with warts and all, the desire for an authentic life, no matter on which side of the world the characters find themselves.
While almost all the stories are of a sexual nature, they are less about sex than what people strive to experience: a connection to themselves and authenticity of experience. Mohanraj breaks the stereotype of the chaste and sexless Sri Lankan female, the preprogrammed South Asian male, and creates a view of human nature that is truly honest and engaging.
"
The book definately comes along with me on the train, cause its going to take me the whole of 26 hours to finish this one.Hyderabad ahoy! Biriyanis, Irani Coffee, Friends, Laughter, Tears, Memories - joi de vivre.
Now, Mom! Where is that train ticket again ?
posted by the motley fool @ 7:22 AM
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