Dan Brown's Inferno

Dan Brown’s Inferno (2013) is quite unlike his earlier books in that here the author turns an environmental activist in that he constantly reminds the reader of the global ecological crisis and the problems of overpopulation. It reads more like GB Shaw’s plays that carry some social message or the other.

Though in the earlier novels, it was possible to suspend disbelief at the kind of code-cracking that Robert Langdon practiced, this time it becomes a little bit tedious with the population problem that is part of the discourse of the novel. He makes use of the character of a slightly eccentric scientist Bertrand Zobrist to offer a solution to the overpopulation problem and this is by creating a virus named Inferno that has got serious consequences to the entire humanity.

The apocalypse is near and the scientist being a fan of Dante has written all the codes in poetry. The allusions and history reveal a lot about the culture and heritage of art work as usual, the fun element is replaced by a seriousness quite unlike Brown. Like all Brown heroines, Sienna Brooks is also quite smart and independent but she turns mushy and cries on Langdon’s shoulder. 

Garden of Eden

Let's hold hands and walk in the garden
Search around for the four-leafed clover,
Walk around till we find the true mystique
Of a clover much-searched for and found.

One leaf for faith, hope, love and good luck,
Good luck, the most needed of them all,
From morning till night, we could pluck
And learn from the leaves of a four-leaf,

When the magic of the purple riot falls off life,
In a sunless garden where the flowers are dead,
A four-leaf clover might bring in a warm smile
Memories of bright sunshine and summer rain;

An Eve in the Garden of Eden plucked a clover
To know if Adam is her one true faithful lover.

Springtime

You were a springtime in this uneventful life, 

Where your promises filled this heart daily, 

Your thoughts played like a chorus in a song, '

And in those days, you were like a demigod. 

When you reach out with your tender words, 

When you return to this life with your bounce, 

I forget that once your absence left me dead, 

And I celebrate your homecoming with delight. 

My fears are about what I'll do if you go away, 

For a promising life had collapsed in a day, 

When you and I parted our lives eons ago, 

To leave behind a life of longing and strife. 

You bring new thoughts and dreams to cherish

And I speak of us as if we are together again.

@ YJHD

Déjà vu

Monday brought its blues

The pull between dreams

And the bitter reality

When you had to face

The same music, in the past

The fear of an ending

When there’s no beginning,

Without anything to say

Except a few bitter words

And as you say my lies

What can I say except

That you have no clue

What mess you will be

When all this finishes

Because I know well

Sometimes the heaven

Offers some warning

Some strange signal

For the weary traveller

To run away for life

There are no endings

Nor any beginnings

In a love like this

Only a pervading sense

Of our seamlessness

Skeletons in the Cupboard

There is nothing left in the cupboard

Except the daily household items,

Coffee, sugar, bread and tea,

A few broken loves from the past,

A dysfunctional family of inferno

In time replaced by another

While time is spent in words

A precious gems that began

A few songs of silence followed

A few songs of remembrance

A purple riot that ran and bled

And the silence that it brewed.

Days of humdrum and misdom,

Always balanced by fantasies,

In colours of midnight blue

That brought out all old stories

The years that buried the dreams

And no secrets left except you.

She

What dreams were hidden in those kohled eyes,
As she raised her dark eyes to his warm ones.
Even now she smiles as she talks to friends,
Or listens carefully to those words round her.

For in a moment of intense silence she forgot,
Whatever that she was before, in one embrace,
Never to be the same again before anyone,
Who knew her before as the chirpy chatterbox.

Now her days are spent in dreaming about him,
From that moment when their souls had mingled,
In a sweet ethereal melody beyond any words,
And the secret pleasures that togetherness brings.

She speaks not to her friends like she used to;
But dreamily lifts her eyes and smiles in silence.

Sprout

You are the sprout that demands my pelting rain of affection, my tiny green whose footsteps fill me with pride with words that come right from the heart.

You are my sprout that loves everything green and creeps over all these broken walls of old houses and old loves and broken dreams.

You are my sprout that cuts through words, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, born out of a green dream of having a name to leave behind.

Beatrice and Virgil

Yann Martel's novel Beatrice and Virgil is an allegory that represents the Holocaust using animal characters. The novel is about writer's block and has the character of the writer Henry L'Hote talking about his writing experiences and also of his encounter with a taxidermist called Henry. This metafictional novel has it all in terms of its several inserted genres including a play, an essay, a brochure, a short story, extracts from Flaubert's short story "The Legend of Saint Julian Hospitator" , a poem in the form of a list and a set of imaginary situations called Games for Gustav. These inserted genres were written by the taxidermist Henry and later recreated by the writer Henry while on the hospital bed after being stabbed by the taxidermist Henry.


Just as in Life of Pi, Martel manages to create more than one dimension of the story and the story flits back between the story of animal extinction and that of the horrible massacre of the Jews during the Holocaust. Martel, through the voice of the writer Henry remembers the six million Jews who were killed during this historical event of genocide. As survivor testimonies show those who survived were no better than those who perished. Martel brings in echoes of several survivor testimonies including that of Primo Levi.


The animal characters Beatrice and Virgil are named after the poet Dante's guides through heaven and hell in The Divine Comedy, the medieval allegory about the state of the soul. From the innumerable allusions to several allegories, it can be deduced that the allegorical form was deliberately chosen by Martel. The allegory commonly spoke of the state of the soul and also gave lessons about humanity's place in the whole scheme of things. Here, Martel brings in an allegory that can be read in both ways and due to the metafictional nature of the novel, there are clues as to read the allegory in terms of animal slaughter and racial purification. Using this allegory, Martel blurs the line between cruelty to animals and cruelty to fellow-beings, showing a belief in the unity of all beings in the universe and an exhortation to live and let live.

Purple Riot

The purple riot began

And took root slowly.

Who would've thought
Who would've known

In the rear view mirror
It looks like spring again

It's snowing every morn
And melting by evening.

The beauty that returned
The songs that don't cease

One day sitting nearby
Feeling the full purple riot

The deep desire in your eyes
That sang to me whole night

The hand that almost reached
The purple riot in your heart.

Mehndi

Every time I put henna on my hands I hum that song

Where I write your name on the palm of my hand,
Hidden in the intricate shapes, curves and designs
The story of the day we met or the day we spoke.

We have walked countless times around the fire

We have uttered so many different sacred chants
Of holding a bond so close just by keeping it safe
Deeply tied to the sense of our sacred silences.

We have celebrated in rhymes, absences felt,

The emotions that run wild and the colours
We have sang of the endless days we wandered
Listlessly, aimlessly and perfectly in silence.

Yet when I put mehndi on these hands of mine,

You smell them, as if it’s our first time together.

Purple Riot: debut book

  

You can buy the book from amazon !

Campus

It’s raining heavily this evening

But there alights a golden glow;

On the tall trees of the campus,

The fox’s wedding of the lore.

A sight enough to lift the chill,

We stand in the corridor amazed;

While a horde of boys cackle

To show who’s boss around here.

The rain looks drawn like lines,

Straight by a measured hand;

When the glow disappears sudden

We get back to work and chatter.

A cold long rainy evening it was

Made warm with our smiles.

Good Fortune

Good fortune

There was no good luck on my cards today

Not that I care much for being what I am

But my fortune was not so good enough

Without a smile to lighten my weary day.

Not that I am what you want me to be

Not that I do what you really want me to

I have always ran away yet lost miserably

For I am like a lion in a cage of the past.

A lion that the people watch and observe

Throwing bits and pieces on my tiring day

Fighting over my ownership and knowledge

With records of all my mistakes, past. 

Yet when I look at where you always sit

A stupid grin spreads across my sad face. 

You and I

You are an innocent who wears his heart on his sleeve in a world full of lies. You read a signal wrong and caused this accident of love to bloom in your heart. I am the one who knows and bears the hurts from those seething with anger, the ones who really love you and care for you. I was like a sleepwalker till you made me see what you wanted me to see. 

Your pain makes me cringe and makes me feel miserable about my carelessness.Though I broke your heart and watched you crumble, I know that it's for your own good. Yet the worlds that we inhabit will be broken down if ever our words meet. Sometimes, I wish that you will open your eyes and see me for what I really am, not what you think me for: no goddess but just an ordinary woman.

For us

Not wrapped in glitzy sheets
Nor given with graceful words
A gift casually made out of 
A used personal belonging

The thought behind the gift
Were purple hearts drawn
And scrawled on pages that
Looked like reminders

You could have pinned it 
And showed it with pride
Than make purple hearts
And make others laugh

The deep red of a riot
Soul colour of a shade.

Stepford

There were forgotten words and broken promises;

Hues matched, songs played and dreams shared

From a springtime of love in another sacred space

That comes back in full riot in your shining eyes.

A world that was lost for not being a Stepford,

With long hair, obedience or even a loyal heart,

A world that was built upon years of dreams

That this elemental water had lost in time.

In the meantime, our definitions have changed;

From two strangers lost in a strange dream;

Obeying rules and breaking no boundaries,

Going from day to day without any joys.

With you, I am a sun that needs to rise and shine,

That meets your mischief with a matching hue.