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Pensiamento Fantastico: Logos

When at college, I do remember how  I would go and search for new books to read especially on how to become a writer, how to build a good vocabulary and how to get published. Rather than spending time on learning what was in the curriculum, most of my study time was spent exploring the world of books on my own. Now, much to my chagrin, I imagine how many more marks I could have scored or how I could have got a job I dreamed of, if only I had been less adventurous and more industrious. 

My teachers at college were a huge inspiration for me; for most, they have a favourite or the other; but for me, they were like an extended family. One would advise on reading classics in sparetime; one would bring in lists of foreign words and phrases to embellish the writing style; one would give us writing assignments; one would read and comment on my amateurish writing efforts; one would ask us to write down all the words that we knew categorising them by active and passive vocabulary and so on. 

Those days, I was so obsessed with improving my vocabulary that I had a notebook for writing new words and their usage. The dictionary was a favourite tool (unlike now, when google is the ultimate tool) for the process of learning words. I used to gobble up new words during my last year, neglecting my studies, so many that my favourite book was Word Power Made Easy by Norman Lewis. 

The fascination for polysyllabic words made me use words such as essentially, prolific, voracious, capricious, precocious, meticulous in my assignments and answersheets.  However, the constant reading of this book ended the day when I bought a personal copy and it remained a showpiece in my bookshelf till it was frequently discovered during a houseshift, (which is of course routine is a way of discovering old useless stuff and losing precious new stuff). 

The love of words from Latin and Greek was a natural side-effect  of studying in a college full of scholarly teachers. My favourite words that were used in writing were raison d'être, faux pax, sanctum sanctori, debut and so on. This became a trend so much that I'd sit with the dictionary for hours just to find some new word to show my scholarship with, all in the true humour of a scholar. 

Once I landed on this word membrum virile but the moment I looked up the meaning I had to suppress my laughter and disappointment that this is one word that I might never get a chance to use in writing ever. So much for the love of Latin words! 

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can  apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

the present

Flavours

Once I dreamt that if I were your wife,
Then I would set the table with flair,
Collect the recipes you like in a book,
Create dishes that could bring delight.

The dream meant spicy chicken soups,
Roti and dal and whatever was special;
Yet you and I remained just a dream,
And this book of magic was forgotten.

When I did became a wife in real, 
I could not please him with my skill,
For he was really skilful as a cook
And never knew how to praise a wife.

Here, he cooks and calls me a beginner,
While I sit quietly and smile ironically.

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.

hope

Precious

There are times when I have wanted you back; like we were always to each other; two opposites like water and fire; dark and shade; halves that could set right whatever was wrong in our lives.

For you lacked life and I lacked peace; but a strange fate put everything right for us before it went wrong again. But once shattered, the halves are never the same. Can you ever touch your heart and say that my absence has never made any difference in your life? I cannot.

For every day has passed like a punishment and every joy left unshared; all because of your magnanimity and your worship of rules, customs and traditions. For now, more than ever, my anger erupts at your foolishness in crumbling a love that was the best that could ever be.

week ahead

Few words for a writer friend

 A shade of violet, modest and humble,
Terse in speech, polished in style;
A rare specimen of delicious wine,
From choicest fruits with perfect taste;
So rare a being shines behind the words,
Graceful, intoxicating, beckoning for more
Words that mirror unspoken thoughts,
Known realms and a kinship of wavelength. 

Ancestors

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.

mindfulness

openness

the future

life

Rose in my garden