Introduction
Speak not, lie hidden, and conceal
the way you dream, the things you feel.
Deep in your spirit let them rise
akin to stars in crystal skies
that set before the night is blurred:
delight in them and speak no word.
How can a heart expression find?
How should another know your mind?
Will he discern what quickens you?
A thought once uttered is untrue.
Dimmed is the fountainhead when stirred:
drink at the source and speak no word.
Live in your inner self alone
within your soul a world has grown,
the magic of veiled thoughts that might
be blinded by the outer light,
drowned in the noise of day, unheard...
take in their song and speak no word.
Me
I am
-Madhu-
Age of
-89-
Loves
-Ancient history, anthropology, dinosaurs, cryptozoology, serial killers, neurofibromatosis, LOST!, Bones, How I met Your Mother, The Nanny, Monk etc-
Hates
-Not having a job and being a slob-
Dreams
-No space to put them all in-
underline bold italics
Sunday, March 23, 2008
While Kite Runner was a great read, I didn't really feel for the characters (yes, I am feminist and have clear preferances for female protagonists). Unlike Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini's second book is a much quicker read and much more interesting. Like in A Child Called 'It', I did squirm and flinch during the abuse scenes and felt somewhat cynical about the black-and-white portrayal of the antagonist, who's a chauvinistic, abusive and ruthless husband.
I was especially touched at the end of the book when I read a father's letter to his illegitimate daughter which got sent a bit too late. However, I loved the way the novel ended, with a sense of hope for the future in Afghanistan. I also liked the transitions, the differences between the Soviet rule and Taliban government and how life had changed dramatically in these two periods.
AHHHHHHHHh. I should not be blogging now but I had to, with all the interesting things happening in my life now! I feel this strange sense of elation and satisfaction because I've finally read an urupudiyaana book after a gazillion years (ok, maybe months)!
I shall end off with my favourite excerpts.
"She would find it increasingly exhausting to conjure up, to dust off, to resuscitate once again what was long dead. There would come a day, in fact, years later, when Laila would no longer bewail his loss. Or not as relentlessly; not nearly. There would come a day when the details of his face would begin to slip from memory's grip, when overhearing a mother on the street call after her child by Tariq's name would no longer be cut adrift."
"Seasons had come and gone; presidents in Kabul had been inaugurated and murdered; an empire had been defeated; old wars had ended and new ones had broken out. But Mariam had hardly noticed, hardly cared. She had passed these years in a distant corer of her mind. A dry, barren field, out beyond wish and lament, beyond dream and disillusionment. There, the future did not matter. And the past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaging mistake, and its accomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion."
The End
12:20 pm
