Book review - All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Anthony DoerrAnthony Doerr was sitting next to a man talking on his cell phone, in a train heading towards New York. When the train approached the Penn Station, the signal dropped and the call disconnected much to the chagrin of the man who was talking. That made Doerr think about the things we cannot see - "the idea about all this electromagnetic radiation we can't see that's flying through walls and through buildings". (https://www.goodreads.com/interviews/...). Communicating through radio, and cell phones, bridging the huge distance that lay between the two ends was something that fascinated Doerr and he decided to write on the subject. He researched on radios and this research let him to the Nazi era. And the plot for the book All The Light We Cannot See[bookcover:All the Light We Cannot See|18143977] started taking shape.

When I started reading the book, it was a difficult and distracting read. Due to the complex language used, I found myself progressing slowly through the pages. And I would often want to opt for 'easier' works. But there was something that egged me on and I am happy to have finished the book. All in all, it has been a memorable read to me.

The story revolves around two characters - a blind girl Marie-Laure who is French and a young German boy, Werner Pfenning who is driven towards the magic of radio transmissions. There is the presence of that precious 'diamond', the Sea of Flames, which some believe carries a curse. The one who owns it will survive but bring disaster to those who are close to him/her. While he himself has never actually seen the stone, the warder of the museum says, "You have to believe the story." The stone looms large in the novel. Marie-Laure often speculates on the 'curse'. Things happen - events that change the course of her life in a way she had not imagined before. And just like Dr Geffard, the mollusk expert has told her, "You know how diamonds - how all crystals - grow, Laurette? By adding microscopic layers, a few thousand atoms every month, each atop the next. Millennia after millennia. That's how stories accumulate too. All the old stones accumulate stories. ...." Marie- Laure's story also accumulates layers, converging with that of Werner and then, drifting apart, only to merge again later towards the end.

Radio acts as a 'connect'. While it seeks to hunt down the enemy, it becomes way early in the novel, a means of hope. " Open your eyes, and see what you can with them before they close forever." It plays the music that fills the air around Werner with "possibility". It poses questions before curious minds - "So how, children, does the brain, which lives without a spark of light, build for us a world full of light?" Jutta, Werner's sister, is the voice of conscience that stays with Werner when he moves away from her. Jutta questions her brother about whether a thing that is being done by all "ought" to be done by them too. Her listening to radio broadcast makes her interrogate into the very idea of "purification" for which the Reich stands. She doubts "the staccato voice of the Reich" which "grows like some imperturbable tree". She does not belong to those who consider it as "the lips of God". She tells her brother that they are not "whole" - "We must be half something." What he refuses to hear from his sister, or perhaps hears but lacks the courage to believe in, he will hear from Marie-Laure through the radio. The radio, an instrument that is being used to capture, becomes a means of release.

Claire de lune by Debussy is a rendition of Paul Verlaine's poem with the same title. It is repeatedly referred to in the novel. The piece fits well with the larger theme of the book - a fight against the closed system of dictatorial rigidity. Werner's radio and Marie's adventures in reading are escapes within that closed system. The music of Claire de lune liberates. It lets the German Volkheimer listen not just to the notes but also "the silences between them" taking him to a place where his grandfather is. It gives Marie-Laure the courage to overcome her fear of General Von Rumpel. It brings back to Von Rumpel the memory of her daughter Veronika, who could sing. The world is being made a little human again, until the music lasts. Nothing is straight or simple in this world. As Marie-Laure contemplates:

"What mazes there are in this world. The branches of trees, the filigree of roots, the matrix of crystals, the streets her father re-created in his models. Mazes in the nodules on murex shells and in the textures of sycamore bark and inside the hollow bones of eagles. None more complicated than the human brain, Etienne would say, what may be the most complex object in existence; one wet kilogram within which spin universes."

The world of Nazi brutality, the "greatest project" of "ordering the evolution of the species", of "winnowing out the inferior, the unruly, the chaff" starts shattering. It is a closed world. It does not let the light in. But it degenerates from within. "The entropy of a closed system never decreases. Every process must by law decay." The decline happens from inside, giving way to a different kind of loss and a different kind of gain. Death stares in the face, but it brings with it "sublimity", "the instant when one thing is about to become something else. Day to night, caterpillar to butterfly. Fawn to doe. Experiment to result. Boy to man."

Another significant character in the novel is Frederick, Werner's friend at the military academy. He is according to Anthony Doerr, a version of himself and of one of his sons. (http://tweedsmag.org/interview-anthon...). They belong to that category of people who "pay attention to things others don't", which may be their strong point but is a "social weakness". Frederick is philosophical, a dreamer. He loves birds. And while Werner thinks that he is weak, Frederick knows that " Some people are weak in some ways, sir. Others in other ways." His distraction is his way out of the brutality of war. He imagines the world when it was "one endless garden from end to end" - all connected, without divides.

The model house that Marie-Laure carries with her is a dominant symbol in the novel. It is a powerful antidote to the Nazi system that is closed and impenetrable. Whether it holds the real diamond or not is something that is not disclosed till the latter half of the book. The inspiration for the house lay in a Japanese puzzle-box the author received as a gift when he was eight or nine years old.(http://tweedsmag.org/interview-anthon...) He was not told how the box opens. He was expected to figure it out on his own. The model house is also like a puzzle box. Whether it opens or not, whether it holds the 'real' thing or not, is something one needs to find out. It is the opposite of "certainty". It is the representation of "disorder" and "randomness". It is an expression of "imagination". It is a proof of "minds" working - minds, which are "not to be trusted" because they are always "drifting toward ambiguity".

All The Light We Cannot See is a brilliant work. It has been praised much for the its lyrical prose, and that is definitely justified. And despite my initial difficulty with the novel, I found it mesmerizing and beautiful and would strongly recommend it to all.


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Water Flows..... - Margaret Atwood's The Penelopiad

 "Water does not resist. Water flows.....Water is not a solid wall.......But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it.......Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does." So advises Penelope's mother to her daughter. An advice that she understands not much at that time, but applies later in her life, while waiting for her sly, adventurous husband to return. Margaret Atwood's The Penelopiad  is a re-telling of the Greek myth but from the point of view of the muted, 'shrouded' queen Penelope who is plagued by suitors devouring her estate. Her son Telemachus is a patriarch-in-the-making, expecting her mother to 'behave' in an 'appropriate' way and disregarding her as a figure of authority in his father's absence. With little support from anyone in the household, Penelope turns to the youngest 'twelve maids' who work as her spies, sometimes being raped, sometimes loved, but forever bringing news to the Queen. Odysseus's nurse, Eurycleia, is not consulted, not confided into the matter. A fact that causes much misery and deaths in the end. Atwood uses the element of story-telling while being aware of the fact that a story remains a story - a version that might be different and at times contradictory to some other version of the same thing too. Odysseus's adventures are stories heard by his wife through various sources and there is no way to authenticate them other then just believing them. But when it comes to the 'story' of Penelope, and her maids, some periods are imposed to bring 'closure' to the narratives that exist in the 'master's' absence.

The killing of the 'twelve' maids is a strand that runs through the novella, questioning justice and fairness in a patriarchy that demeans a woman by raping her, by considering her as a 'prize' or 'trophy' - a thing to be kept locked up. Atwood questions the objectification of women through history and myths in the chapter titled 'The Chorus Line : An Anthology Lecture' where the maids stress that they are "pure symbol". They continue to haunt Odysseus after death. In Hades, after re-births...probably asserting that injustices continue to happen, the male continues to wander off, and justice never delivered. Penelope tries to dissuade the maids but they shun her too, and Atwood leaves us to speculate Penelope's thoughts as she sees their feet 'twitching' - unable to touch the ground.

The book is a quick read, blended with humor and sarcasm. Atwood's use of The Chorus helps in setting a pace for the novella, reminding the reader about the temporal setting of the narrative but then the prose breaks through it and reemphasizes that the issues raised are far from that - they are persistent and move beyond time and territory.

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(This review has been posted on Goodreads)

पुस्तक समीक्षा - अमित अग्रवाल की चिटकते कांचघर

To read the review in English, click Book Review Chitakte Kaanchghar by Amit Agarwal

बचपन में स्कूल में हिंदी एक विषय मात्र था। अपनी मातृ-भाषा होते हुए भी अच्छी  हिंदी बोलना और लिखना कठिन लगता था। पर आज भी याद है जब हरिवंश राय बच्चन जी की कविता अद्भुत आनंद देती थी।  जब भी पढ़ती थी लगता था की एक नया संगीत जीवन को सुरमयी बना गया।  कुछ ऐसा ही नाता है मेरा कविताओं से।  भाषा की गुलामी से दूर एक अपनी ही दुनिया बना देती हैं कविताएँ। व्याकरण के बंधन में बिना बंधे कवि ह्रदय से पाठक के ह्रदय तक सहजता से पहुँचने वाले शब्दों का नाम है कविता।

आज मैं खुद को भाग्यशाली मानती हूँ कि मुझे कुछ ऐसी सुन्दर रचनाओं को पढ़ने का अवसर मिला जो मेरे मन को सजीव और जीवन को सुशोभित कर गयीं।  अमित अग्रवाल जी जो Safarnaamaa... सफ़रनामा... से अपनी एक अलग पहचान बना हम सबको सुन्दर साहित्य का उदहारण देते हैं , उन्होंने मुझे इस लायक समझा कि मैं उनकी किताब चिटकते कांचघर का पठन करूँ।  मैं आभारी हूँ कि उन्होंने मुझे एक ऐसा संग्रह दिया जो सदैव मेरे जीवन को आलोकित करेगा।  मैं यहाँ इस पुस्तक पर अपने कुछ विचार लिख रही हूँ।  आशा करती हूँ कि आप सब इस पुस्तक को अपने जीवन में सम्मिलित कर अपने जीवन को अलंकृत करेंगे।

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कवि ने अपनी पुस्तक के तीन अनुभाग किये हैं - जीवन, विस्मय, एवं आभार। प्रत्येक भाग के अन्तर्गत विभिन्न विषयों पर कवि भावुकता और संवेदनशीलता से विषयों को प्रस्तुत करता है।  कहीं मन की टीस का वर्णन है तो कहीं अनूठी उपमाओं से स्वयं पर गर्वित होता कवि मुस्कुराता दिखाई देता है।  समय के परिवर्तन के साथ आए बदलाव कभी कवि ह्रदय को व्याकुल करते हैं तो कभी उसको अपने अतुलनीय व्यक्तित्व पर अभिमानित होने का अनुभव कराते हैं। शब्दों की प्रचुरता कवि का सबल शस्त्र है जिसमें  आलोचक और मित्र, प्रेम और घृणा , असफलता और जीत, उपेक्षा और सम्मान, कृतग्यता और कृतघ्नता सब सम्मिलित हो जाते हैं।

जीवन 

जिस तरह जीवन के रंग अनगिनत हैं , इस भाग की कविताओं का रस भी उन्हीं रंगों की तरह भिन्न , रोचक और मोहक है। कुछ ऐसे रूपांकन, कुछ ऐसे चित्र शब्दों के माध्यम से कवि ने चित्रित किये हैं जो सोचने पर विवश करते हैं।  कभी उदासी, कभी किसी की बेरुखी, कभी खुद की असफलताएँ - इन सबका चित्रण बखूबी नज़र आता है छोटी छोटी विचारशील कविताओं में। जीवन को कभी चिटकते कांचघर तो कभी ताश के पत्तों के समान आसानी से नष्ट हो जाने वाला माना गया है।बाहरी शक्तियों के दुष्प्रभाव से टूटने का दोष जीवन की अपनी दुर्बलता को दिया गया है।  

बेमानी है बहुत  मासूम हवाओं पे  रखना  इल्ज़ाम 

ताश के पत्तों  के महल बसने को नहीं  हुआ करते. ('हवाएं ')

ऐसे जीवन का क्या मतलब जो बस सांस लेना जानता है - जिसकी न कोई राह है न कोई मंज़िल? जो कभी जीवन को सही अर्थ में जी ही नहीं पाया, क्या वो कभी जीवित था भी ? नीचे लिखी ये पंक्तियाँ ये प्रश्न पूछने पर मजबूर करती हैं -

जड़ें रह गयीं प्यासी , मिट्टी तक ना पहुँची

हाँ आई तो थी बारिश बस पत्ते  भिगो गयी.  (ज़िन्दगी )

जो जीवन आक्रोश से भरा था, वो कैसे ज्वालाहीन हो गया ? 

जला किया ताउम्र  जंगल की  बानगी 

बाद मरने के ना इक चिंगारी नसीब थी. (ज़िन्दगी )

समय में निरंतर परिवर्तन आता है।  लिबास बदल जाते हैं , शब्दों की परिभाषाएँ भी बदल जाती हैं।  नए युग के नए फैशन की वेदि पर कल की पसंद दम तोड़ देती है।  पुराना फर्नीचर भी एक अतिरिक्त वस्तु की तरह बेकार हो जाता है।  क्या कवि भी इस पुराने फर्नीचर की तरह इस युग में व्यर्थ, बेतुका और अनावश्यक है ? नहीं - क्या इतनी आसानी से हार मान जाएगा वो ?

नये चलन के इस दौर से 

मेल नहीं खाता.  

...पर मेरे जैसे अब 

बनते भी कहाँ हैं ! (बेकार )

'भूला गया' एक और सुंदर कविता है जिसमें अकेला  पड़ा 'दीवला' एक उपेक्षित लेखक के तुलनीय है।  जिस प्रकार दीवला एक कोने में पड़ा रह गया, अपनी योग्यता को जी ही नहीं पाया , उसी प्रकार एक गुणी  लेखक/कवि अपनी रचनाओं के पारखी तक पहुँचने से चूक गया।  कारण कोई भी हो - पाठक के ह्रदय तक पहुंचना सफल नहीं हुआ।  कवि नयी रचना लिखते  हुए डरता है कि कहीं फिर से वो तिरस्कृत दीवले की तरह अधूरा न रह जाए।

'लिबास' पढ़ते हुए मुझे मुल्ला नसरुद्दीन का एक किस्सा याद आ गया।  'हंग्री कोट ' नाम की एक कहानी कुछ समय पहले पढ़ी थी।  किस्सा कुछ ऐसा है कि एक बार मुल्ला नसरुद्दीन किसी काम में बहुत व्यस्त होते हैं।  पूरा दिन भाग-दौड़ करके बेहद थक गए होते हैं।  तभी उन्हें याद आता है कि उन्हें किसी अमीर व्यक्ति के यहाँ दावत पे जाना था।  मुल्ला को लगता है कि अगर वो कपड़े बदलने घर गए तो देर हो जाएगी इसीलिए वो ऐसे ही दावत में चले जाते हैं।  उनके मैले कपड़ों को देख सभी उनसे मुंह मोड़ लेते हैं।  यहाँ तक कि कोई उन्हें खाने के लिए भी कुछ नहीं पूछता।  मुल्ला दावत छोड़ घर वापस जाते हैं और कपडे बदल कर लौटते हैं।  इस बार उनके लिबास बेहद शानदार होते हैं।  उनके प्रति सबका व्यवहार बदल जाता है।  तभी मुल्ला खाने का एक एक व्यंजन उठा कर अपने कोट में डालते हैं - जब सब हैरान हो उनसे पूछते हैं की ये क्या हो रहा है तो मुल्ला कहते हैं की जब सादे लिबास में उनका स्वागत नहीं हुआ तो उनको समझ आ गया कि दावत कपड़ों के लिए थी उनके लिए नहीं।  यह सुन कर सबको अपनी गलती का एहसास होता है।

मैं गया था आपके जलसे में  लेकिन

मामूली  कपड़ों  में आप  पहचान नहीं पाए! (लिबास )

 'इश्क़' के ज़रिये कवि जीवन की एक ऐसी वास्तविकता पर ध्यान ले जाता है जो सब के जीवन का अभिन्न अंग है।  समय अच्छा हो तो सब साथ देते हैं।  कवि भी जब सफलता की सीढ़ी चढ़ रहा था तो बहुत आये उसके पास पर जब समय प्रतिकूल हुआ तो उसने पाया की वह तन्हा है।

लबरेज़  था जब, तो आते थे कई यार मश्कें  लिए हुए 

प्यासा हूँ आज,  तो मसरूफ़  हैं  सब ही  कहीं - कहीं  ! (इश्क़ )

सीले हुए पटाखे और  बोन्साई दो ऐसी कविताएँ हैं जहाँ कवि बनावटी जीवन पर कटाक्ष है। जिस तरह बोन्साई का पौधा अपने सच्चे स्वरुप तक कभी पहुँच ही नहीं पाता क्यूंकि माली उसको अपनी महत्वाकांक्षा के अनुसार रूपित करता है , वैसे ही समाज की त्रुटियाँ, विचारों के खोट कवि को एक रेखा में नियंत्रित करने का प्रयास करते हैं।  कवि की उन्मुक्त भावनाओं को लगाम देता समाज माली की तरह उसे काटता है, कभी पनपने नहीं देता।  खूबसूरती बस एक झूठी रचना बन जाती है जिसमें विचारों की स्वछंदता और कल्पना की उड़ान के लिए कोई जगह नहीं।

ख़ूबसूरत हूँ बेशक़ 

और शायद क़ीमती भी..

 ..लेकिन ये असल मैं नहीं  हूँ! (बोन्साई )

सीले हुए पटाखे  प्रेरित करती है पूर्ण  जीवन जीने के लिए।  जो भी कार्य करें जी जान से करें। कागज़ के फूल कभी खुशबू नहीं  बिखेरते। झूठे रिश्तों से तन्हाई के पल अच्छे हैं।  बेमानी शब्दों से चुप्पी अच्छी है। जिसमें सच्चाई न हो वो अर्थहीन नाते हैं।  दर्द को और नासूर बना देते हैं , वो किस काम के। 

मत सजाओ कागज़ के फूलों  से,

इससे तो ये गुलदान सूने ही अच्छे हैं . .... 

 .. 

मत लगाओ हमदर्द का मरहम बेमानी, 

इससे तो ये ज़ख्म ताज़े ही  अच्छे  हैं . (सीले हुए पटाखे )

विस्मय

इस भाग में छोटी-छोटी बहुत कविताएँ हैं जो कवि के प्रेमी मन की बेचैनी को बखूबी बयान करती हैं।  मिलन की ख़ुशी का एहसास और जुदाई के पलों की तड़प वही समझ सकता है जिसने कभी प्रेम किया हो।  प्रेमिका के बिना हर पल एक उदास 'धुन' की तरह लगता है और उनका 'बाहों में चले आना

होगी महज़ इक अदा  

उनके लिए 

मेरी तो मगर 

जान ले गई !  (उनकी अदा )  

प्रेम में समर्पण के साथ कुछ मांग भी हैं , कुछ अनुरोध भी हैं।  जब धोखा मिलता है तो कवि स्तब्ध रह जाता है क्यूंकि 

जाते हुए सोचा न था 

लौट कर आऊँ गा तो 

अजनबी बनके मिलोगे (अजनबी )

नैनीताल Sept'12 एक बेहद मन लुभाने वाली कविता है - समझ नहीं आता कि किस प्रकार उसकी प्रशंसा करूँ। कवि 'आडम्बर ' से रहित नैनीताल की खुशनुमा तबियत को कभी बारिश के बरसते पानी में तो कभी निष्कपट कुदरत की प्रचुरता में सराहता है। पर इन सब से कहीं ऊपर है वहां की एकता - एक ऐसा स्वरुप जो मिल-जुल के रहने की प्रेरणा देता है

 मंदिर के घंटे

अज़ान की आवाज़

ख़ामोश खड़े चर्च 

गुरुदद्वारे का प्रसाद ..

कितने ख़ुशनसीब हो तुम

नैनीताल 

ख़ूबसूरती के अलावा भी 

कितना कुछ है तुम्हारे पास! 

इस प्राकृतिक सुंदरता को कुरूप करने के लिए मनुष्य ने क्या-क्या नहीं किया।  नैनीताल November, 2011 में 'विचारहीन' परिवार प्लास्टिक-रुपी झूठी जीवन-शैली का उदहारण देते दिखाई देते हैं।  राइफल शूटिंग साइट जहां मासूम परिंदों को  भयभीत कर दूर भगाती है , वहीँ

'अस्वस्थ, ओवरवेट, शिथिल 

और मानसिक तौर पर बीमार बच्चे .. 

....  

'थक' कर भागते हुए...  ' 

दिखाई देते हैं।

'मसूरी ' की खूबसूरत वादियों में जहाँ कवि खुद को भूल जाता है वहीँ कोई 'गतिमान तितली ' या 'नन्ही पहाड़ी चिड़िया ' उसके मन को सचेत करती है।  बारिश की बूँदें चंचलता अनुभव कराती हैं  तो 'ठहरा ' पानी उसे 'स्थिर' करता है। जीवन की व्यस्स्तता के मध्य कुछ पलों के लिए ही सही , कवि ने साधु के लम्बे केशों-रुपी चीड़ के पेड़ों की ठंडी हवाएं महसूस की हैं।  प्रकृति की विभिन्न निधियां - जल , हवा, पेड़-पौधे कवि के नीरस मन में रंग भर उसको रौशन करते हैं।

'घर बदलने पर ' एक ऐसी कविता है जो मेरे मन पर गहरी छाप छोड़ गयी। अपने घर से किसको लगाव नहीं होता ? कौन ऐसा कठोर होगा जो अपने घर के छूट जाने पर मन में कोलाहल न महसूस करे ? यही भावना इस कविता की प्रस्तुति है। कवि को इस बात का दुःख है कि वह अपने घर को खली मकान बना छोड़ गया।  जब उस घर का  खालीपन उसे कचोटता है तो उसको एहसास होता है कि उसकी देह भी एक दिन छूट जाएगी।  तब उसका कोई प्रशंसनीय, कोई आत्मज नहीं होगा।  खाली घर में शायद फिर कोई आ कर उसको सजा देगा पर उसकी देह जो एक बार छूटी उसका पूरा नामोनिशान ही मिट जाएगा। शायद यही कारण है कि कवि इश्वर से कुछ और पल जीने की प्रार्थना करता है - कुछ ऐसे पल जो उसको जीवन से विमुख कर दें

ताकि फिर वापस  

यहाँ आने का  

                                            दिल ही न करे! (...और अंत में ईश्वर के नाम )

आभार

यहाँ कुछ ऐसी चुनिंदा कविताएँ हैं जो इस किताब को उत्तम शिखर पर पहुंचाती हैं।

'गन्दा नाला' को कई प्रकार से पढ़ा जा सकता है।  यह एक ऐसी अभिव्यक्ति है जिसमें अर्थ की परतें हैं।  कभी मैं यहाँ एक भक्त को देखती हूँ जो अपने ईश्वर को आभार प्रकट कर रहा है कि उसने सारी त्रुटियाँ अनदेखी कर अपने भक्त को सहजता से अपनाया है, उसके मटमैले मन को अपनी निर्मलता से धो दिया है।  कभी मुझे इन्ही पंक्तियों में कवि अपनी रचनाओं से बात करता प्रतीत होता है।  यह रचनाएँ कवि के कलम की अशुद्धियों को दूर करती हैं और कवि के मन को साफ़ करती हैं।  कुछ ऐसी भावनाएं, कुछ ऐसे मनोविकार जो उसको कहीं पक्षपाती न बना दें , गहन विचारों के ज़रिये कवि को निष्पक्ष और नैतिक बनाती हैं।

 'रास्ता' हमारे विचलित मन को राह दिखाता है।  कहते हैं न कि पानी का गिलास आधा भरा दिख रहा है या आधा खाली यह हमारी सोच पर निर्भर करता है।  कवि ने यही विचार इस कविता में प्रस्तुत किया है।  पथिक को 'फूलों भरी क्यारियां ' दिखाई देती हैं  या 'कसाइयों की दुकान' - ये निर्धारित करेगा 'मेरे डरेे से तुम्हारे गाँव तक' का रास्ता कठिन है या सरल।

 'दुआ ' में कवि ह्रदय अधीर हो प्रकृति से दुआ मांगता है।  गर्मी जहां उसके तन को बेचैन करती है , बेलगाम घोड़े की तरह बरसती बारिश पास के पहाड़ों में 'कोहराम' मचा रही हैं।  कवि को कुछ राहत तो चाहिए पर अपने स्वार्थ के लिए किसी और को नष्ट होते देखना उसको गवारा नहीं।  इसीलिए कवि के हाथ दुआ में उठते हैं कि बारिश न आये :

'जाने दो

मैं  सह लूँगा गर्मी  का दर्द

पर वहाँ मत करना और उपद्रव  ! '

सुबह 1 और  सुबह 2 में मानव का प्रकृति के प्रति बेपरवाह व्यवहार अनैतिकता प्रदर्शित करता है। दीवाली कहने को तो ख़ुशी का त्यौहार है पर वही त्यौहार एक ऐसे पर्व के रूप में विकसित हो गया है जहाँ कुछ पलों की खोखली ख़ुशी के लिए मनुष्य ने उसी का तिरस्कार किया जिसने उसके अस्तित्व को बनाये रखा है।  जो हवा-पानी हमें जीवन देते हैं, उन्हीं के प्रति कृतघ्न मनुष्य दुष्कर्म करता दिखाई देता है और प्रकृति की दुविधा की तुलना उस माँ से की गई है जो राह भूले अपने बेटे को न तो माफ़ कर सकती है न ही बददुआ दे सकती है। आभार प्रकट करना तो दूर मानवता को यह स्मरण ही नहीं है कि उसका जीवन प्रकृति के फलने-फूलने पर आश्रित है।

 विपस्सना

क्या सच में कवि की साधना अधूरी रह गयी ? नहीं।  कवि के शब्द और सचेत अंतर्मन ने वो खोज लिया जो जीवन को सम्पूर्ण करता है - वो प्रेम, वो समर्पण, वो आत्मीय भावना जो कवि को उसकी विचारणा से जोड़ती है , वो संगति जो एक गायक अपने गीतों में पाता  है , वो भक्ति जो एक  विनम्र भाव से उस इश्वर को पा लेती है जिसको कभी किसी ने नहीं देखा।

लेकिन बिना साधना के

मुझे वो मिल गया

जो अनशवर है, सनातन है,  शाशवत है,

सत्य  है-

          तुम!! (विपस्सना )

W H ऑडेन ने कहा है की कवि सर्प्रथम वह व्यक्ति है जो कि पूरी भावना से , भाषा के साथ आवेशपूर्ण प्रेम में है। अमित जी की कविताएँ भाषा की सर्वोत्तम रचनाएँ हैं। सामान्य तौर पर जो वस्तुएं एक आम आदमी अनदेखी कर दे, उन वस्तुओं में एक कवि ही है जो कविता खोज सकता है।  जब मैंने अमित जी से पूछा  कि क्या कारण था कि उन्होंने अपनी किताब को यह शीर्षक दिया तो उनका कथन था कि जीवन के दर्द रुपी एहसासों का वर्णन इन्ही शब्दों  में स्पष्ट होता है। कांच के घर खूबसूरत तो हैं पर मिथ्या भी हैं। अकेलेपन का अनुभव कराते हैं।  और दर्द एक ऐसी भावना है जो बिना किसी शोर के धीरे से हमें तोड़ जाती है।  कभी मन के क्लेश तो कभी आत्मा की पीड़ा, कभी चिंतन तो कभी विस्मय और कभी किसी अंतहीन भव्यता की तलाश - इन सब अनुभूतियों का नाम है 'चिटकते कांचघर'।

Book Review - Tomichan Matheikal's The Nomad Learns Morality

Literature does something funny to you. It makes you see meanings underneath meanings. It makes you probe a little more, question a little more. It agitates you, adds to your disquiet, makes you less dogmatic and more poetic. It also gives you a tool, a potent and compelling tool, the pen. It fires your thoughts, kindles your imagination, and intensifies your narratives with an integrity that is rebelliously coordinated. Tomichan Matheikal's The Nomad Learns Morailty  to put it in brief is good literature, with all the features mentioned above and much more than that. 

The book is a collection of 33 stories that deal with topics ranging from mythology to religion, history and politics. The themes are vivid - faith, doubt, human fallacy, God's devise, divinity, morality, sin, facticity, fantasy, truth,  illusion and deception. The collection begins with tales from mythology. When I asked Mr. Matheikal what he meant with mythology and religion, he came up with an answer that set me thinking. According to him, 

"Myths are literary expressions of human aspirations.  They acquire spiritual connotations eventually.  Gods and Devils are part of those aspirations as well as attempts to give meaning to life.  Add some rituals to spirituality and you get religions."

Much before civilization came myths. Myths were flexible, less deterministic than religion. They did not aim to take everyone in their 'fold'. With time however, societies grew sophisticated. Culture became more defined and rituals more pronounced. And myths acquired the status of religion. Human consciousness has been predetermined, shaped to a large extent by these forces. The author succinctly sets out to explore the narratives that he has encountered in his life. There are anecdotes from history, legends from mythology, and yarns from everyday life.

Let me start with something I requested from the author himself. I was curious as to why he had not added any preface or introduction to his book. Instead of an introductory note, he said he wanted to make a 'request'. This is his reply:

"When writers like Salman Rushdie write books like Satanic Verses, they are not ridiculing any religion or God.  They are probing their own inner conflicts.  It is their way of trying to make sense of the religion, its deities and also the fellow human beings who may appear absurd and baffling.  It is their way of making sense of life.  When I probe characters and events from religious books or other existing sources, I am doing the same: trying to make sense of them and life.  I also expect that my attempt at making sense of life can be of help to the readers.  Unless the reader understands this, the work will be a failure."  

The collection begins with a 'chaste' and 'wronged' woman Ahalya and ends with the deceptive Queen of Spades. In between the two lies a whole panorama of life. The author dons the garb of the narrator in many places, trying to locate meaning in meaninglessness, and sense amidst absurdity. He attempts to be an interpreter and not a judge, for he himself is a reader. He is venturing through his texts to read through time and consciousness to find the many faces of truths and falsehoods. 

I present before you in brief, the strand of each story. I have asked some questions in some places.

In the stories Ahalya, Sarayu's Sorrow, and Snakes and Ladders, are the gods in their human incarnation existential' beings searching for answers that are almost impossible to find? The mistakes they commit, are they an 'authentication' of their life on this Earth? When Ahalya was given freedom from her 'stony' existence, was it an acceptance of her fault, a peep into her consciousness, or a recognition of 'desire' she had nurtured? Was it the delusion of 'chastity'? If everything was a matter of perception and choice, where did God Ram falter? At the altar of humanity itself? 

Autumn of the Patriarch

Is the 'greatness' of a figure of prominence like Bhishma a 'construct' that 'cages' him? Is it something that forces upon him the decisions he 'thinks' he has made willingly. Isn't the 'selfless partiarch' an oxymoron, an impossiblity, a contradiction? Draupadi's question sets Bhishma thinking. He wonders whether a 'woman' can understand the complexity of something as subtle, as complex as 'dharma'. Is 'Truth' something that needs to be even told? Will a 'woman' understand the meaning of it? And there stands Draupadi at the other end, asking a pertinent question - Can he not see the 'adharma' of it all?

Original Sin

We have heard it all. The story of our fall. But was that so simple? Is innocence the bliss that one should aspire for? What was the original sin? Where did Eve err? What if there was an even more sinister plan, something as mundane as simple boredom? What if God was in cahoots with Satan? What if?....

Children of Lust 

What was Lot's fault? Did he 'sin' against 'God' or was his fault something most of the protagonists in this collection are found making? Also, was his fault an outcome of something that God 'let' happen in the 'Original Sin'?

First Christmas - The greed for 'knowledge' has larger context here - the persona of the narrator seems to intervene - his greed is for a deeper knowledge, something that will encompass religion, myths, magic, Creation, sin, will and even time.

Achilles' story brings us back to 'The Autumn of the Patriarch' which asks similar questions. The question of the 'identity' and 'will' of woman are crucial thoughts running through both the stories. History, if re-written from the perspective of a woman, would probably include lot of unanswered questions, and would perhaps also compel us to understand the whole concept of 'dharma' and adharma'. And one would ask again if everything is fair in 'War' and 'Love' after all?

Barrel Life

The 'teacher' is a 'madman' and does a 'slave' work.  Sanity' and 'madness' are relative to each other and also a matter of perception. There is bias. There is interrogation and rebellion too. The conversation between the 'teacher' and the 'king' is something that will haunt you with an insight you might not have had before. The trappings of civilization, the conquests of kings, the minimalist living, the never-ending 'quest',  and then, the ending leaves you with another question mark. The strand is carried in the next story And Quiet Flowed the Beas which witnesses the downfall of the king and the crumbling of the conquest. Roxana, like many other women in history, stands at the periphery of history but her presence reiterates the questions of Draupadi, Ahalya and Sita from the earlier stories.

'Worship' has a different connotation in this story that is short and still makes you wonder at Nebamun who has 'authenticated' his life in a certain sense. It is ironical that that validation comes at a huge price.

Scholar, Priest and Politician is another excellent story which by way of history proves its contemporary relevance. Times change, beliefs are put to test through experiments and hypothesis. Heresy seems close by. These interrogations are a threat to 'power' and 'power-holders' and ought to be nipped in the bud. Meanings need to be twisted and spoken words misquoted to uphold the status quo. Intelligence and power wrestle and new-fangled ideas are conveniently brushed aside. Galileo's Truth extends the theme further. What is heresy? A pertinent question would be, who is being 'harmed' by the 'heretical' claims? Can 'thoughts' possibly be caged? Can 'tongues' be imprisoned? No, and yet the intelligent suffer as scriptures are stripped of their 'poetry' and read literally. 

'Heresy' finds a new meaning in the next story Caliph of Two Worlds. The most important line perhaps in this story, which has a lot of relevance even today is this

"The line between politics and religion is an illusion that can be shifted in any direction as required by the occasion." The usurping of the king can be viewed as a sin against God, but what if God's representative ordains it. Meanings change, are perverted and subverted, only to be reinstated in obedience to the God-man. 

Saga of a Warrior  - The title tells it all. It is the 'story' of a warrior, a figure from history. Whether it is accurate, or otherwise, is a matter for historians, who are themselves prone to errors. So while I leave that strand there, I want to emphasize the fact that the story of Khusru, as narrated from the view-point of his wife, has deeper meanings and throws light on how histories can be constructed differently and how every story can have elements of 'truth' and 'fabrication'. History written by 'sycophants' as the writer correctly puts it, is full of 'blunders'. Approaching them with caution is advised. History etched on the walls and erected as mausoleums also hides skeletons inside. Who is a hero and who is weak, who is hailed as a true warrior and who is stigmatized as a coward and a traitor should be objects of continuous interrogation. 

Aurangzeb too dies, but with some regrets and many questions. Will his son ever get to understand those questions? Will he try to seek answers to those questions? Perhaps yes. Like his father, when he lies dying. For now, he is busy. He needs to 'conquer' others' gods.  

Under the Peepal is a story I started with a little unease. Reason - Buddha. But that unease settled soon as the story's ironical rendering of 'nirvana' lays bare the mechanisms of present day life. The humorous positioning of Siddhartha, the son of an estate owner, with all modern day entrapments, with the cheeky narrator, I suspect, it is the writer himself, who audaciously enters anybody's life (how dare he..?!!!) heightens the drama minus the melodramatics. Who knew a Russian 'Idiot' would be of some help?

Maya significantly becomes the reason for renunciation and escape to scriptures. Illusion, or the breaking of it, is the cause of the fate she suffers. What will the narrator or the reader learn from it? Will he find a meaning, a resolution in the end? Destiny asks questions that pertain to the way things happen, and decisions are made or thrust upon us. Lennon's quote with which the story ends has relevance not just to this story. Are we 'meant' to be where we are? Why? Who decides this? Who plans it all? The story I assume has a personal reference for the writer who himself has been a teacher and has experienced the whims of the 'rich'. Lennon's quote becomes even more engaging when read in conjunction with the next story, The Devil has a Religion. Philip's fate hangs in the hands of Father Joseph whose absence only seems to offer an illusion of peace. The self-ordained God-man leads the 'chosen' one to 'damnation'. A Ghost and a Secret have the elements fit for a light thrilling read. The conversation between the 'ghost' and the narrator are reminiscent of the conversation between Alexander and Diogenes in Barrel Life. The narrator's failure to keep up his promise is a failure of human beings in general. The quest remains unfulfilled since the object of quest is something that is lost on the way to the destination itself.

Mayank Passes deals not just with matters of blind faith, faulty parenting, and duplicitous Babas. The entire education system is open for interrogation here. 'Phenomenananda' Baba is an excellent dig on the phenomenon of the God-men which has become so common these days. Michael and the Witch engages the reader by an apparent simplicity underneath which all lie some questions that need urgent answers. The narrator is walking to the 'edge' of the forest. The disappearance of woods is symbolic of a disappearance of good literature, taste, and sensitivity too. The narrator tries to bring 'change' through a 'kiss', which I read as an attempt the writer is making to bring about a questioning of dogmas, and prejudices through his pen. Will he fail or succeed? Even the witch does not know. Sacrifice is a heart-breaking tale. The word 'sacrifice' can have different meanings, and is here used both ironically and literally. Coma discusses the vagaries of employment and fate yet again. The protagonist Tony reminds one of Philip from The Devil has a Religion. The Lights below Darkness is an engrossing read. While the narrative hinges on who is going to be the Head of the English Department this year, other strands come in too - the way we perceive others, the assumptions and judgments made upon people around us, 'opinions' we hold, selfish interests that we harbor. The trope of 'wires' and the life that is entangled between them for in Twinkle Twinkle Little Star makes for another appealing read that leaves with you with some questions. Is the decision Rohan makes towards the end worth it? The short and piquant BMW of desires gives many a sleepless night. Anna, I Miss You narrates the dance of life and death and everything in between and ends with Yeats's beautiful words. It can serve as a metaphor for the writer's attempt at making sense out of life, and his wish to see what the world makes of it. The Queen of Spades is a brilliant adaptation of Pushkin's story by the same name. The writer's distaste for the 'rich' is seen in the characterization and his choice of words. Deception and illusion are key themes in the story and prove a worthy end to the entire collection.

Now for the title and the story with the same title:

  

The Nomad Learns Morality is a self-contradictory title. Who is a nomad? One who has no boundary. One who is a wanderer. What is morality? It is the qualification of conduct as good and bad. It happens in a 'society/ Morality of one society can differ from another. Morality of a certain time period can be in opposition to the morality of the other time. A nomad 'learning' morality is a nomad dispossessing his essence, his very being. The story is subtle and complex. It serves as a parable of life that we live today when attempts are being made from all directions to conquer gods, to trample faiths, to crush diversities. The terror of religious dogma is something that is scattered all over in Matheikal's writings. His blog articles time and again have dealt with the issue. The story takes it one step further. Read it together with Life's Journey which tells you that ''the distance between life and death is just a moment' and mocks at the absurdity of it all. Read alongside it Pearls....and Bullies which proves in a certain sense that the 'soft' ones are bound to suffer. It is in their fate. And yet, if they choose to just sit there and not act, it can get pretty 'boring'. There are tears, yes. There is pain, yes. But then, there are pearls too. 

I personally feel that Mr. Matheikal should include a bibliography for further reading for his readers. He should also add in brief a bit of a background for the mythological and historical stories for those who are unfamiliar with the same. This will ensure a better reading, understanding and analysis of his own narratives.

I have tried to deal with each story as it has affected me. I have asked questions in brief in some places because those questions are my responses to his text. There are many things that are untouched in this review. I could not incorporate everything here. I urge, with a strong conviction, that if you have not read the book, please grab a copy and read it. Who knows, you might find the answers to questions the author himself is seeking. 


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To reach Mr. Matheikal's blog, click here

Book Review - Lei : A Wreath for Your Soul by Somali Chakrabarti

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I am an ardent lover of good poetry. Whenever I am feeling low, poetry provides hope and strength to my soul. So, when Somali Charabarti, who blogs on Scribble and Scrawl came out with her book on poetry, I jumped with joy. I have known her through her writings and have found her to be deeply introspective and intelligent. I was eager to see how much more wisdom she had brought to this world. So, very keenly, I got hold her book. She was kind enough to tell me when it was available on Amazon and I promptly grabbed a copy of it. 

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As I started reading the book, which is a collection of poetry written in the format of Japanese haiku and tanka, I realized how astute an observer she is. While sticking to the technical style of writing the format demanded, she was able to bring in her own insight into topics related to Life, Nature, Illusion, and Inspiration. These are the four subjects under which her poems are classified. All four sections are related to each other. Without Nature, Life is impossible. With Life come Illusions, and to break away from them, Inspiration comes in handy. 

Nature

Nature contains snippets of insight which if comprehended, can make life worth living. The section, interestingly, begins with "waking up". The period of torpor is brushed aside as the bright sun bathes the nature with its radiance. The dullness is done away with and with the sunshine comes a promise of life. The light of the 'Moon' fights all shades of darkness. The immensity of Nature in the form of 'Everest' challenges the human spirit and makes us ask a question - Is the human spirit brave enough to defy the unrelenting enormity of Nature? In Nature, one also finds unpretentious modesty. The colors of nature in the 'Valley of Flowers' vie not with each other, rather co-exist adding to the harmony of a beautiful life. There is promise of love as the swans sail together and there is promise of birth and new life as the "pollinator" bee searches for nectar. With the alluring beauty of Nature also come its spoils. The blundering plunder by human greed is tersely conveyed in 'Tusker. The section ends with 'Fractals in Nature' which focuses on fractal patterns in Nature which convey its beauty in perhaps its most precise form.

Life

This section touches various aspects of life - love, friendship, luck, memories, devotion, hatred, ambition, history and death. It aptly begins with 'Lei' which as the writer in the beginning of the book notes is a sign of welcome in the Hawaain tradition. It is a garland to be worn as a symbol of affection. The intricacy of relationships, of love and trust, of belonging, of possessing and letting go are nicely dealt with the subsequent poems. Imagery from nature is used again to depict the force of emotions and memories on one's state of being. My personal favorite in this section is 'Thoughts'. In a few words, the writer compares the volatility of thoughts with that of an erupting volcano. They can be perilous and precarious, they can be heretical, divisive, rebellious. There state of being great or otherwise makes them both dreadful and endearing. Faith and prayers unite as the Divine Being is welcomed in 'Mahalaya' and experienced in 'Whirling Dervishes'. 

Illusion

The tanka 'Illusions of Life' with which this section ends sums it up all. The life that we live is a myriad of impressions received and lived at the tangible level. The way up is the way within. And the way within is the way not easily discovered, actually rarely discovered by anyone. We live at the physical level, like 'Flickering Shadows', putting on a show by wearing 'Masks'. 'Dormant Desires' explode, bringing us closer to our doom. The sham appearances that seem to enchant the senses in reality hide a "vast vacuum" inside them which we fail to perceive. 'Between the Rocks' highlights the precariousness of life. In attempting to balance it out, what if we fail? Can our consciousness be our savior when it itself  hangs delicately on a rocky bed of desires? The irony of a 'Sublime' view is well juxtaposed with the doomed fate of the enduring mortals.

Inspiration

To break away from the deceptive failures that illusory desires bring, Inspiration becomes vital. Once again, the writer draws comparisons from Nature. A 'Mountain Goat', a solitary tree, weather-beaten but unbroken rocks, birds and a lone flower blooming in frigid cold - they all seem to say one thing. Don't give up. Life brings forth challenges and a spirit that sustains against all odds is the spirit that wins. Inspiration comes not from physical strength but firmness of mind and toughness of spirit. Steadfastness of purposeful living brings order to an otherwise chaotic life. The spirit of the writer perhaps finds the best expression in the 'Bliss of Creation' wherein the creator and the created find unity and peace. The being of the creator finds solace as the boundaries between the real and the 'created' meet, overlap, mingle and become one.

Conclusion

The writer at the end of the book tells why she "must" write. It is not a vocation for her. It is something that adds value to her life. It is means of exploration as well as enlightenment. It is a tool that helps her connect, and it also helps her liberate her soul. A close reading of the poem clearly depicts the meaningfulness attached to writing and also exhibits the sensitivity that the writer brings to her works.

I have dwelt on the book in great detail simply because I felt I needed to do full justice to the beauty of this book. Again, poetry speaks to me in ways I cannot describe. I hope that those who take the time to read my review before and after reading the book will understand why I have spent so much time and words on this gem. 

I want to sincerely thank Somali Chakrabarti for sharing this book with me. I feel so enriched by her wisdom and I urge my friends and whoever reads this post, to pick up a copy and read. It is definitely worth it.

Book Review : Kaleidoscopic Lives – Ensemble Narratives of the Common Man by Roji Abraham

Man has always felt the need to tell stories. Ancient people told their stories through art. With the development of language of communication, narratives flowed from one generation to another orally in the form of folk tales, fables and legends. On the way, the plots and characters changed and were embellished as per the perspective of the teller. These stories survived by word of mouth, although they kept changing in one way or the other. With the development of scripts and languages, stories came down to us as the written word. They became permanent. While initially, stories were meant to teach a moral lesson, with time, they evolved into a complex form of literary art. Today, short story genre is a recognized field. It is a genre that is not easy to write. Therefore, mastering the art of writing short stories takes time and effort.

When I picked up Roji Abraham’s Kaleidoscopic Lives – Ensemble Narratives of the Common Man, it was the title that first caught my attention. Titles are like windows. They let us see something but leave the rest to imagination. The title speaks of narratives of the common man, a figure appearing frequently in present day political discourses. It hints at the variegated colors of life.

My expectations were well-raised and the very first story hooked me completely. Chocolate Uncle left me mesmerized, making me relive my memories of childhood. It is a tale of sweetness, a short but well-spun yarn with strands of historical forces intertwined into the personal lives of the characters. There is no detailed analysis of the historical tensions at work but they are subtly hinted at, which adds to the text’s richness and the responses it induces in the reader.

Life devoid of humor would be very dull. So we have the Thai Massage, The Court Witness and The Cripple. These stories evoke contrasting responses from the reader. The titillations of youth, the worries of a legal tussle the character is involved in and the sympathy aroused from hearing the story of the crippled man are well complemented by the climax these stories reach. Expected behavioral reactions are dealt with in a clever way making space for subtle humor.

The First Fan and Pilla the Thief deal with both the past and present lives of the protagonists. While the former deals with first impressions which are often misleading and throw light on individual biases and social prejudices, the latter is a tale of reform and social acceptance.

The sexual promiscuity in The Talented Cook weighs well against the poignant tale Till the Day I Die. The care-free joviality of the cook is well-documented in not just his cooking skills but in the other ‘passionate’ spheres of life. The young men learn important life-lessons from the cook’s escapades but also risk running into trouble. Till the Day I Die is placed at the opposite end of the spectrum. It deals with true love in a restrictive society. It is a befitting end to the motley of emotions that pervade the book.

Shahab is another narrative that registers unconditional love and nostalgia for unfulfilled dreams. Sometimes, some people come in our life without knocking the door and they fill up a void that nobody else saw or sensed. Shahab is one such story that registers a good deed done and a cherished dream fulfilled. It leaves the reader with a feel-good factor. So does The Cab-Driver’s Story. Responsibilities force the cab driver to choose a career he had not sought. What the story does to him and to the person who hears his story is what one needs to look out for. It is a touching narrative with positive ending.

One of my favorites in the collection was The German Housemate. What happens when two opposite personalities share one roof? Do they fight, ignore each other or become friends? What exactly is ‘friendship’? Is it the unspoken bond between two people who come close to each other just because of spatial proximity? How much can one overlook the mannerisms of a loud roommate? Does an ‘awkward hug’ seal the friendship bond for good? It is a story that will stay with the reader once the book is completed – a special treat of words and wonderful characterization.

 There is a beautiful line at the end of the last story in the collection Till the Day I Die. “The curse of education is a rational mind……it takes away the beauty of dreams.” Roji Abraham has lived his ‘beauty of dreams’ by weaving this narrative collection by creating characters we meet every other day. For those who want to read something that connects them to their real lives and yet transports them to a distant world, then this book is a must-read.

 “A short story is a love affair, a novel is a marriage. A short story is a photograph, a novel is a film.”           - Writer Lorrie Moore  

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