On reading books in tandem

 

Typically, I would burrow into a book and read it at long stretches transforming the words into images and conversations in my mind. I would put it down at some logical point like chapter / section, but I wouldn’t read more than one because long after the book is laid to rest,              the memory of the images created on my mind keeps playing and it seeps into subconscious arousing more thoughts and feelings.

This may be also the reason why started reading 3 in parallel.

The God of small things

I read this almost 20 years back & I did not recollect it – this and the Inheritance of Loss are 2 books I wanted to read again. So, I took out of my steel cupboard, dusted it and started reading it. But while I admired the English & the interesting way, she would rhyme certain words to sort of visualise an incident or poem or a conversation somehow at the core of the book was churning of heart or bad memories written in a sarcastic or funny way. On the whole, it was throwing back the same thing which I was running away from – negativity. While I was trying to do justice to the book – it was dragging me down (most of the times).

Shalimar The Clown – Salman Rushdie & Nocturnes by Kazuo Ishiguro

It was a chance trip to Blossoms after 2 years of lockdown that I got a basketful of books and coupls of books of 2 authors I wanted to read. I picked up Shalimar the Crown reading the blurb of a brilliant symphony, story of great imaginations etc”. This was my 2^nd book after I fell in love with Midnight’s children. But if one was to understand the meaning of erudite – one should read this. At least for me I am finding it very complex & convoluted writing. The way he write one sentence might be 5 lines and the way he is explaining things it’s like someone is forcefully using certain words. It was not negative but it was not inspiring as well.

Nocturnes is a set of 6 stories revolving around music and nightfall. And finally, was the book I was looking for. In fact, it was just the opposite of Shalimar – Extremely simple plots with gentle pre-disposition like Ruskin Bond or Alice Munro – You feel good after reading it & is perfect for a haunted soul like me.

I read two stories on two consecutive days and then went back to God of Small Things & Shalimar the Crown so that I could balance the sadness with love and complex with simple.

The Summit of Gods

 

One of the things which always baffled me was why did so many people try and do things which has 1% chance of success and 99% chance of death & not just failure. Of course, that 1% will put their name in history and give them fame & recognition.

The movie tries to answer that question and much more. We are used to seeing movies shot in Himalayas or snowy mountains with cold wind blowing and the mountaineers struggling to climb. Pictures of snowcapped mountains, Buddhist shrines, prayer flags and Gurkhas are a common sight. It takes you to a different world.

Why this movie is different is because it is hand drawn – in fact looked like watercolor. I know that Miyazaki is world class in his use of color in animations, but the storyboarding here is equal If not better. Drawing snow caped mountains which is almost white & giving it shades of greys & then that wisp of snow air / wind requires deft skill.

A glowing orange tent at night – with stars twinkling in a clear sky or the drawing of a Buddhist stupa with multicolored prayer flags blowing, or busy town with it’s linear row of buildings, flyovers, or the various things needed for mountaineering being packed & of course the technical stuff – like the knot on the rope needed to climb in a snowy mountain. Some of the images you remember long after the movie is over. And only when you look back you feel that only a mountaineer could have made this movie – else how would you know the micro details of the boulders / path which you will find when you climb a particular path to Everest. This is a passion project – because the topic is so different & it will appeal only nature + movie enthusiast.

The movie also contrasts the busy Tokyo life & a densely packed city with the vast & open mountains where time stands still. Habu – the protagonist is staying alone in a hut away from the village for 3 years and had made 8 failed attempts to climb the Everest in winter through the southwest face. So, one side there is loneliness & the challenge of climb and on the other side there is busy life filled with meetings, deadlines & the challenge of a corporate life.

The story begins with the search of a camera by a climber – Mallory who had made an attempt to climb in 19 22 but never returned. The story ends with Haibu making the same climb. Will he make it?

He doesn’t but he tries to answer the question – Why he and many others still climb? He says it is not about reaching a particular peak and end or rest. He must climb because that is the only way he knows. As soon as 1 climb is done – the search is for the next challenge.

I ran for a few years, and we did participate in a few runs before I drifted away.  But there are runners whom I know who got up at 4 and ran for 3 hrs or cycled for 4 hrs and come back. They did that before I started running and are still running – because that is the only way they know.

I don’t remember the name of one of the first animation movies I saw when I was growing up & in my innocent and clear mind I has this statement – If there is 1 thing, I want to do is to be part of this movie. Then of course life took its own path and here I am all of 52 when this thought again came to my mind after seeing this movie.

Postscript: After writing the blog I read about the director and his experience. He clarifies that he never went to Nepal or any mountains – the detailing was only research & online search.

The Bells of old Tokyo

 

I discovered travel writing which is not about the description of the place but more through the eyes of the author and the journey he or she is taking.

My first book was Into the Mountains – which was the authors cathartic journey (after his younger brother died in a freak accident) on foot across the Himalayan mountains, starting from Pakistan and ending in Nepal. It was like walking with the author side by side hand in hand – understanding what is going through his mind. Like the author it was kind of letting go – everyday the author would visit a village then just work with them – if they are harvesting, he would join them – have whatever food is provided and move ahead to the next village or sometimes he will put up a tent & use his cooker and stove to make daal & rice. Living a mechanized life this would be an imaginary journey which I would take every day along with the author. It was not like any other book I had read.

The Bells of Japan is about Tokyo and it’s history through the bells of Japan. It mixes the present with the past. The author will visit various sites and talk about the present – what she sees & some bit of history she knows about that place. Then she would talk to a priests, famous writers, artists who has more in depth knowledge i.e facts and lace it with his experiences and what happened, if he was present or any of his ancestors have gone thru the times – lets say when the Shoguns were leaving Tokyo and how many of the things they held close to themselves were destroyed.

I wanted to read about Japan / history of Japan so I was looking for something which gives me a perspective. I was always fascinated by Japan – a country much maligned for their caste systems but known for their discipline / spiritual side. A country which rebuilt itself after it was almost destroyed in WW II. But I did not want to read about the facts of what happened in Japan which mostly you will get in Wikipedia or if you Google I am sure there will be enough material.

But a book like this is a kind of oral history, where the history is told by the people who experienced it and what they actually went through. What happened to the people of Tokyo when tons of bombs were dropped in Tokyo – many times more than Hiroshima. People living in bunkers and trying to save people or getting burnt in the process. Or how the bells & their removals symbolized an end of era or a change to a different Japan. It’s like visiting these places with the author and listening to the authors & painters who formed a view and was sharing it candidly with the author.

For me both these books were like reading meditation.