Winter Notebook - The World Is Not A Wish Granting Factory

Merry Christmas people! Wish you a great one.

Wishful thinking. That is what I am indulging in for now. I have realised, negative emotions make me write more than positive ones do. Is it the same with you? The world, including me, needs to take a serious course in 'Count Your Blessings'. However, the pathetic state of humanity we are all living together in, we cannot all help but ponder constantly over that one grand moment which will come in our life and set it all right. Reality check - it does not happen that way. No. Your life, as well as my life, will remain a constant tussle between the highs and the lows, the goods and the bads, the brights and the darks. I also think I am descending into the thought patterns which tells me only sorrow is real - happiness is but a break from it. Something like how only darkness is real and all.

Among the many stupid things I keep thinking about, one is recurrent. I am talking about wishful, idiotically optimistic thinking. Every time someone cancels a plan, or expresses his/her inability to meet me, at some deep corner in my heart, I am convinced (foolishly, of course), that the cancellation is a mere decoy to give me a surprise! I hope to be that special for everyone. This happens every single time. If my friend says I am not coming to office/college tomorrow, I always travel in the morning in the hope of seeing the same friend waiting to surprise me with a hug. If a friend cancels a lunch date, I am hopeful that the same friend will barge into my house and carry my favourite food and we'll have the time of our life. I hate being surprised, but I still keep planting these scenarios in my head. This is what keeps me going.

I guess the easiest way to be with people in inside my head. Very few of us realise that sometimes, a casual promise, casually uttered, is something our dear ones are hanging onto, with dear life. Cancelling plans, treating promises with scant respect is a way of life, you see. When I look pleadingly into the eyes of a friend and say, 'But you promised...', the same friend looks back at me incredulously, as if the logic I am basing my argument on is long dusted away under the covers of Grimm's Fairy Tales. But what to do, the world is something you still believe in. People are something you still believe in. Your wishes are tied down to moments of togetherness, of love shared and concern showed.

So, is there a way out? Sure there is. I mean, as far as I have been able to crack, the only antidote to 'The World is not a Wish Granting Factory' statement is becoming material in your wishes. Yes. Then all you need to do is earn enough money. Lots of money. Or pass on this list to a friend. Trust me, friends find it convenient to parcel you a (material) gift of your choice. It is best if it can be found over Flipkart (and the likes). Ease of ordering and delivery - now that, is precious.

Anyway, the five things that would make me super happy this Christmas are the following. Feel free to gift in dozens :)

1. Mittens!
I love the ones with fingers open, but, then, do they serve their purpose well?

2. Ring - this one!

Source - BoredPanda

3. All things Silver
You can start at this for reference.

Source - Etsy

4. Books
Romance, that is what is lacking in my thinking.

Source - Ubbcluj

5. Hugs and Gossip and Coffee
The most expensive item on my list, but I hope I get a lot of it :)

You know why I particularly love winters? Because this is the season of funny hats and funnier feelings. More on that, on the next page of my notebook. Share your wishlist with me, and I will try my best to be your Secret Santa :)

Winter Notebook - Saudade

At times, I feel like cleansing it all. 
All of it. 
The faces. The love.
The simple. The tough. 
The pleasure. The groans.
The kisses. 
The races, against time.
The words, which seldom rhymed.
The bonds. The myths. 
The cuddles. The rifts. 
The playfulness. 
The kicks
I got out of
Knowing I am the special one
For him
And for her. 
You know what they do? 
They shamelessly display glee. 
In tasteless pictures
Clicked in abhorrent corners of the world
Which now they call new zones
Of friendliness. Of love. 
I feel like cleansing it all. 
All if it. 

I'll just hold memories. 
You know, I own them. 
I can kiss them gently 
Or smother them in my imagination. 
They're fine, really. 
These memories I use to torture myself. 

Of moments that will not come back ever, 
Or which perhaps did not exist in the first place. 

Photo by Achint Mathur

I do not have great things to write about, but the irony between the word (shared today on twitter by Tarique Anwer, a dear friend) and my thoughts struck me. This irony was special and ironical, because all the thoughts of 'cleansing' are borne out of a 'yearning'. So, the paradox is actually the essence. Okay. I am losing it. But you get this story, right? At some point, it must have been your story too. Now, it is my story. 

An Isolated Incident by Soniah Kamal - A Review

When you see Khaled Hosseini endorse a book right on its cover, the fan in your stops thinking and picks up the book with high hopes and expectations. An Isolated Incident by Soniah Kamal, fell prey to this burden of expectations. One could call it a wrong way to approach a book, or one could hold the endorsement fortunate for it tinges the critical eye with rainbow colours. This novel written by a Pakistan born American author gave me both highs - that of a confused critic eager to verbalise the disenchantment, and that of a fascinated reader, comfortably giving herself over to the deft penmanship of the author. Let us get along to exploring both these aspects of the novel now, shall we?

Uprooting
The narrative begins in Kashmir, which is a land ridden with tensions, but happiness manages to flow in households obsessed with living the daily chores and fulfilling customs and rituals. Zari is the protagonist - a vivacious girl, in a loving family, with a marriage to excitedly prepare and wait for. Conflict strikes at the very beginning when her entire world is ripped apart, and she is uprooted from her native land to be taken to the more liberal and progressive air of the States to heal in the company of her distant relatives. Classic and expected interjection in the plot by an author whom postcolonial theorists would label with hyphenated identity. Diaspora as a literary strain is all too evident here - the distance from culture is what makes the yearning for and awareness of culture prominent - this being further complicated by a tragic heroine mourning the loss of her loved ones and piecing together her identity from a fragmented psyche and erased past.

Memory and History
Writings about lands with complicated conflicts at the very birth of them - a classic example of which is Kashmir - build upon the strains of memory and history to help characters determine answers to the 'Who am I' question. In An Isolated Incident, while Zari deals with the burden of memory and history, her hero, Billy, romanticises both to arrive at a proud and rebellious notion of his identity. His parents deliberately conceal details of his family history which lends him the frustrated feeling of anchorlessness. From conversations of childhood spent in Kashmir that he remembers, he is convinced that he bloodline is made up of great ancestors who fought for the liberation of his homeland. It is in the past that he discerns a destiny and path for future actions. Part of his responsibility towards Kashmir is fulfilled by taking care of Zari, and the other, unfulfilled, burning part is what leads him to the fields of conflict which jeopardise his existence along with that of the family.

Cultural Positioning
I forced a Kashmiri friend to read this novel along with me, for the pleasure of discussion and association. We all like seeing our childhood reminiscences inked as someone else's recollections - and my friend was no different. The novel liberally uses Kashmiri colloquial terms, making conversations rather personal and warm. Cultural identifiers in terms of Kashmiri food, customs, games, greetings are what keep the novel bound together as a unified narrative even as it traverses through vastly different geographic spaces. The keenness to affiliate to your common roots, to draw the source of your existence from there is evident in both the central characters, even as other characters snap or mutilate their past for they see it threatening their future. The political stances taken by the author (through the voice of her characters) is not what Indian audience would be too happy about - but then, if fiction is debated upon within the realm of fiction, then the stances, however jarring, come justified in the fabric of the story.

Characters and Identity

I have a personal proclivity towards novels in which I see characters grow in reaction to the situations around them. What I will laud the author for in her extremely skilled hold over her characters, each of whom had more to it than a mere flat face. The story functions in a non-linear format, and the greater depths of narratives you delve into, a newer shade about the characters are revealed. This applies to the protagonists, as well as all the supporting cast. Also, no character in the story could be called a mere accessory - they all come with a defined purpose, they help further the narrative and each of them make your reflect uniquely in the human condition, the tragedy of never having control over how your life pans out in front of you. I would personally like to congratulate the author for her absolute finesse on creating a pool of characters with unique human identities converging to a common cultural identity.

Narrative and Verdict
Its a good novel. Not exceptional, but an extremely good novel - almost like a rare piece of literary merit that lingers in your head till long after. Soniah Kamal has displayed exemplary sensitivity, sensibility and intelligence while assembling together this beautiful and thought provoking novel on the Kashmir question. In doing so, she has lent a balance to the personal and the political. Her language is leagues above the ordinary, somewhat satiating a literary appetite. The only problem I had with the book was the confusion and fragmentation which surface as the plot jumps between people, perspectives and places. Basically, there were times when the novel refused to hold me together, even thought I was willing to lie submerged in it.  The plot took long to reveal itself to me. For the longest time, I felt that this was Zari's story, but as I put the novel away, I find power in the character and conflict which Billy essays. If that was intended or not, I would not know.

However, no novel has forced me to write a review with such excitement! Since I must stop writing now in order to attend to other chores, let me just give the verdict as 3.5 stars on 5 and a highly recommended label alongside. When you manage to read this one, as you absolutely should, can we get along for a cup of tea and dwell a little on the politics and people of Kashmir, please?

Book Details - 
Author - Soniah Kamal
Genre - Fiction
Publisher - Fingerprint
Published - 2014
Price - Rs. 295
Pages - 379
Source - Review Copy