A good book speaks for itself. Anyway, DD can't post posthumously. She loved books, always. And a bunch of them are her only savings.

The Legend of Khasak - O V Vijayan

This is a Malayam Novel, the one that revolutionalised Malayam literature in the early 70s. It is said that it took the visionary author 12 years to come out with the book. No wonder, it is a true legend !!!!

O V Vijayan is a legendery Novelist, Political Columnist, Cartoonist and Short Story writer. A stunningly brilliant author. He was one of those very rare Indaina authors who were considered to have a fare chance for the Nobel Prize!!!!!!!!

Thankfully I could get the Malayalam version, the origial one, to read _ Khasakinte Ithihasam. I remember having read somewhere that he is a Malayali parallel to Marquez. No doubt, he is. This is the story of Khasak, through the eyes of Ravi who comes to Khasak as a teacher in the one-teacher village school. Ravi lives at two levels of mental being. One is that of a guilty young man who had an afair with his own step mom while his aged father was on his death bed and who had committed a sin with a yogini in an ashram he was staying. The second level that of a philosopher trying to mix meta physics and upanishads.

Every other character in the book is brilliantly narratted by the author. Appukkili, Madhavan Nair, Maimoona, Maulavi .. everyone.

It is the extraordinary genius of the author that transforms a third rate Page-3 theme to the spiritual level of literature. Amazing, I must say.

I guess, I am getting addicted to existentialism ;))

The Outsider - Albert Camus

A background understanding of the philosophy of Absurdism helps, at times. Atleast when you read this book.

Camus is a philosopher French Author, a contemporary of Jean-Paul Sartre, the famous Existentialist. Having never heard of Camus, what prompted me to read the book is its back cover page which says he is a Nobel Laureate.

Meursault, the protagonist, is like any other young man of an average existence. The book opens with descriptions of his Mother's funeral. The very first page suggests the character of Meursault.

He doesn't fit into the usual frame of a social being. The snobbish and phony people. He is deadly indifferent, even towards his own life and death. Meursault views everything as an outsider. His mother's death, the unintentional murder he committed and his own death penalty.

Even though he is happy with his girl friend, Marie, and he is willing to marry her 'cos she wants to, he plainly tells he doesn't love her 'cos he simply doesnn't feel any love. Though embarrassed by the embarrassment on other people's face, he is not able to adapt to the norms of the society. He is neither a revolutionary nor an extra ordinary genius. Just a simple young man who is deadly honest about his feelings or lack of them.

There are times he tries to act and say as per what was expected from him by the circumstances, but he get bored pretty soon. He flinches a bit while confronted with his death penalty. The most amusing of turn happens there. He starts viewing even that as an outsider.

It is not the plot that is interesting, but the protagonist's attittude and feelings (or no feelings) towards happenings that is the center theme.

These types of writings always interest me. The unconventional, the intriguing, the surrealistic and subtly philosophical.

Good read, ofcourse. This is his very first book and I guess, his later books are better. Yet to grab one.

The Judgement - Franz Kafka

Just as usual I am dumbstruck as to what was that? Surrealism is at its best(or worst) in Kafka.

This is the story of a father and son, but the central character is the son's friend who is in St.Petersburg. The son writes a letter to his friend, who is presented as looser to us thru the son's thoughts, to break the news of his engagement to a girl from a "well-to-do" family. He goes to his widower father to inform him about sending the letter. It is then that the "Kafkaesque" situations take the lead. Then you are lost wondering what happened.

I am still finding it difficult to adjust to the Kafka way of leaving the reader to imagine the reasons behind the conclusion of the story. Yet I must admit, every sentence written by him, makes me addictive to his stories.

This story presents the ultimate contemt towards a son by his father, which leaves the son in a profound confusion. And that is what happened to me too.

Nineteen Eighty-Four - George Orwell

Heard of this :- Big Brother is watching you. ? This is the central theme of 1984.

Orwell is famous for his anti-Stalin views. He was pro-Trotsky. To be frank, I have no clear idea of what makes Stalin different from Trotsky. What I understand is that Trotsky was amore of a puritan where as Stalin was more practical. Had Trotsky been in power, I feel he also would have ended into the same mode that Stalin adapted. May be less brutal.

Orwell has written this book in 1948. The book's original name was "The last Man in Europe", but later on was changed to 1984 according to the suggetion of his publisher. Well, I prefer the discarded title ;)

World has only three super powers, accrding to the story, which are Eurasia, Oceania and Eastasia. All these are in war with one another all the time. Winston is a native of Oceania. Rather he is an outer party member of Oceania.

The story is a mockery of the Totalitarian concept of Stalin. I am not sure if Stalin was a totalitarian in its true sense. But that had been a favorite theme for Orwell. Animal Farm is a better mockery of it.

1984 takes a little patience to read through. And ofcourse, a background understanding of Totalitarian theory and democratic-socialism. The most notable thing is that, even though
Orwell had been dilly-dallying all his life in choosing a perfect philosophy or theory, he had always been a socialist. He turned anti-imperialist in the begining of his career and was
a true socialist all his life. Though the doctrines he chose varied considerably over time.

Oceania is a country ruled by "The Party". Everything is determined by the party. They control past, present and future. They control your food, sleep, work and even sex. Winston, our protagonist happens to be the last living man. Rest are all transformed to "comrades".

Orwell's imagination is marvellous. Even if we assume that his severe hatred and contempt for Stalin gave him the central theme of the story, there is one thing that amuses me. Winston get to read an anti-party propaganda called "The Book". Orwell actually has written another book inside 1984 as "The Book". I have to admit that I was almost convinced that War Is Peace.
Here is the abstract of "The Book"
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But it was also clear that an all-round increase in wealth threatened the destruction—indeed, in some sense was the destruction—of a hierarchical society. In a world in which everyone worked short hours, had enough to eat, lived in a house with a bathroom and a refrigerator, and possessed a motor-car or even an aeroplane, the most obvious and perhaps the most important form of inequality would already have disappeared. If it once became general, wealth would confer no distinction. It was possible, no doubt, to imagine a society in which WEALTH, in the sense of personal possessions and luxuries, should be evenly distributed, while POWER remained in the hands of a small privileged caste. But in practice such a society could not long remain stable. For if leisure and security were enjoyed by all alike, the great mass of human beings who are normally stupefied by poverty would become literate and would learn to think for themselves; and when once they had done this, they would sooner or later realize that the privileged minority had no function, and they would sweep it away. In the long run, a hierarchical society was only possible on a basis of poverty and ignorance. To return to the agricultural past, as some thinkers about the beginning of the twentieth century dreamed of doing, was not a practicable solution. It conflicted with the tendency towards mechanization which had become quasi-instinctive throughout almost the whole world, and moreover, any country which remained industrially backward was helpless in a military sense and was bound to be dominated, directly or indirectly, by its more advanced rivals.

Nor was it a satisfactory solution to keep the masses in poverty by restricting the output of goods. This happened to a great extent during the final phase of capitalism, roughly between 1920 and 1940. The economy of many countries was allowed to stagnate, land went out of cultivation, capital equipment was not added to, great blocks of the population were prevented from working and kept half alive by State charity. But this, too, entailed military weakness, and since the privations it inflicted were obviously unnecessary, it made opposition inevitable. The problem was how to keep the wheels of industry turning without increasing the real wealth of the world. Goods must be produced, but they must not be distributed. And in practice the only way of achieving this was by continuous warfare.

The essential act of war is destruction, not necessarily of human lives, but of the products of human labour. War is a way of shattering to pieces, or pouring into the stratosphere, or sinking in the depths of the sea, materials which might otherwise be used to make the masses too comfortable, and hence, in the long run, too intelligent. Even when weapons of war are not actually destroyed, their manufacture is still a convenient way of expending labour power without producing anything that can be consumed. A Floating Fortress, for example, has locked up in it the labour that would build several hundred cargo-ships. Ultimately it is scrapped as obsolete, never having brought any material benefit to anybody, and with further enormous labours another Floating Fortress is built. In principle the war effort is always so planned as to eat up any surplus that might exist after meeting the bare needs of the population. In practice the needs of the population are always underestimated, with the result that there is a chronic shortage of half the necessities of life; but this is looked on as an advantage. It is deliberate policy to keep even the favoured groups somewhere near the brink of hardship, because a general state of scarcity increases the importance of small privileges and thus magnifies the distinction between one group and another.
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He wrote awesme and for a cause he truly beleived in. A good read, though it took a good amount of time. Still, if you are new to Orwell, pick up Animal Farm first. And ya, don't forget to google out information about the Stalin-Trotsky-Orwell love tirangle. Happy reading !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shalimar The Clown – Salman Rushdie

My fourth Rushdie book. The first one I read was "The Moor's last sigh". My mother had a tough time making me live a normal life till I finished reading it. I picked up "The midnight's children" with much excitement and found his strong "Rushdie Style" a bit too much. Still, the book made a descent read. It was "Fury" next time. Even if you get it as a freebie, for God's sake don't waste your time on this book. It needed reassurance by looking at the cover page to believe it was a Rushdie book.

"Fury" was a disaster; made me vow not to pick up any of the Rushdie books. I happened to read some reviews on the book afterwards. They say that is the worst ever Rushdie. I try to pick up books after checking out the reviews. Having read two of his other books, I didn't even think twice before picking up "Fury" without any reviews. That was a disaster.

"The Moor's last sigh" is simply the best out of the four I have finished. I didn't even realise that there is a suspense till I got to the last pages. And the revelation left me dumbstruck. Man, it is damn worth a try. The Zogaibi & Da Gama families and The Chipkali movements, his lady love etc etc etc.

"Shalimar The Clown" is OK. I would rate it same as or slightly above "Midnight's children". Even before I reached half way through the second chapter (it has only five big chapters), I could guess the rest. Still, the book could get me to read the whole thing, just to find out how it happened.

India :- The first chapter. Captivating.

Boonyi:- Second chapter. Beautiful and happening in the beautiful Kashmir.

Max:- Complicated. Second World War, Hitler. Even Charles De Gaulle himself makes a cameo appearance !!!!!

Shalimar The Clown: Can be well predicted still good.

Kashmira:- The end. Again, just as expected.

This man has got an amazing ability to mix up fiction with history. How easily is he talking about Second World War and Ratty Rhodes and Max Ophulus and the university and Charles De Gaulle as if everything else is as much real as the world war.

One thing that struck me is that he is unusually realistic in this book. Boonyi's friend gets raped and he DIDN'T write that "the night after she realised she has got two wings and flew up to the heavens". Rather the lady commits suicide at the end. There are certain aberrations while Shalimar the Clown escapes from the jail, but that was not over done.

The bottom line is "borrow & read".

The PROPHET - Kahlil Gibran

This is the fifth time I am reading this book in its entirety. The first time I read I found it too tough for my level of cognition. Somehow, I wanted to decipher the meanings. Tried a second time which made it easier. Since then, anytime I see the book in my pile, I can't help but read atleast tose lines that I have underlined.

I am no one to talk about the greatness of the book. It is the most brilliant of all humanly written books. Atleast, considering the minimal number of books I have read. May be this is not just another book, but a guide to free you of all your illusions that cover the real knowledge lying behind. Gibran speaks of nothing more than what we all know, yet he speaks lot more.

I would call The Alchemist a good book. But can't even compare that with this book. I think I liked Alchemist because I read that first and then read The Prophet. Had it been the other way round, I am sure I would have found felt it was just another book.

Since I don't even think I am worthy of describing Gibran, let the book speak for itself.

These are some of my favorites. And there are still some of the lines which I haven't exactly understood.

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Love

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

Marriage

You shall be together when white wings of death scatter your days.
Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
Love one another but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together, yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

Children

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

Giving

You give but little when you give of your possessions.
It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.
And you receivers - and you are all receivers - assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives.
Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings;
For to be overmindful of your debt, is to doubt his generosity who has the free-hearted earth for mother, and God for father.

Eating & Drinking

When you kill a beast say to him in your heart,
"By the same power that slays you, I to am slain; and I too shall be consumed. For the law that delivered you into my hand shall deliver me into a mightier hand. Your blood and my blood is naught but the sap that feeds the tree of heaven."

Work

And what is it to work with love?
It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.

Joy & Sorrow

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Houses

Your house is your larger body.

Clothes

Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful.

Buying & Selling

And if there come the singers and the dancers and the flute players, - buy of their gifts also.
For they too are gatherers of fruit and frankincense, and that which they bring, though fashioned of dreams, is raiment and food for your soul.

Crime & Punishment

But I say that even as the holy and the righteous cannot rise beyond the highest which is in each one of you,
So the wicked and the weak cannot fall lower than the lowest which is in you also.
And as a single leaf turns not yellow but with the silent knowledge of the whole tree,
So the wrong-doer cannot do wrong without the hidden will of you all.

Laws

People of Orphalese, you can muffle the drum, and you can loosen the strings of the lyre, but who shall command the skylark not to sing?

Freedom

If it is an unjust law you would abolish, that law was written with your own hand upon your own forehead.
You cannot erase it by burning your law books nor by washing the foreheads of your judges, though you pour the sea upon them.
And if it is a despot you would dethrone, see first that his throne erected within you is destroyed.
For how can a tyrant rule the free and the proud, but for a tyranny in their own freedom and a shame in their won pride?
And if it is a care you would cast off, that care has been chosen by you rather than imposed upon you.
And if it is a fear you would dispel, the seat of that fear is in your heart and not in the hand of the feared.

Reason & Passion

Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against passion and your appetite.
Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows - then let your heart say in silence, "God rests in reason." And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, - then let your heart say in awe, "God moves in passion."
And since you are a breath In God's sphere, and a leaf in God's forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion.

Pain

Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

Self Knowledge

Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."
Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."
For the soul walks upon all paths

Teaching

No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of our knowledge.
The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness
And even as each one of you stands alone in God's knowledge, so must each one of you be alone in his knowledge of God and in his understanding of the earth.

Friends

Your friend is your needs answered.
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.

Talking

And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered
When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.
Let the voice within your voice speak to the ear of his ear;
For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered
When the colour is forgotten and the vessel is no more.

Time

Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness,
And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream.

Good & Evil

Of the good in you I can speak, but not of the evil.
For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst?

Prayer

You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance.
I cannot teach you how to pray in words.
God listens not to your words save when He Himself utters them through your lips.
And if you but listen in the stillness of the night you shall hear them saying in silence,
"Our God, who art our winged self, it is thy will in us that willeth.
It is thy desire in us that desireth.
It is thy urge in us that would turn our nights, which are thine, into days which are thine also.
We cannot ask thee for aught, for thou knowest our needs before they are born in us:
Thou art our need; and in giving us more of thyself thou givest us all."

Pleasure

And now you ask in your heart, "How shall we distinguish that which is good in pleasure from that which is not good?"
Go to your fields and your gardens, and you shall learn that it is the pleasure of the bee to gather honey of the flower,
But it is also the pleasure of the flower to yield its honey to the bee.
For to the bee a flower is a fountain of life,
And to the flower a bee is a messenger of love,
And to both, bee and flower, the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy.

Beauty

All these things have you said of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.

Religion

Your daily life is your temple and your religion.
Whenever you enter into it take with you your all.
And if you would know God be not therefore a solver of riddles.
Rather look about you and you shall see Him playing with your children.
And look into space; you shall see Him walking in the cloud, outstretching His arms in the lightning and descending in rain.
You shall see Him smiling in flowers, then rising and waving His hands in trees.

Death

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

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I had such a difficult time in selecting the lines to post here. I couldn't make up my mind as to what to omit and what to take. This is a book I keep with my holy books and I read during times of confusion and trouble. Never ever has a book influenced me so much. I am speechless .....