Writer
Love.
A beautiful emotion,
the lesser said the better.
It is a feeling that needs
to be experienced.
Love is best seen in the eyes of your loved ones.
You know when that affectionate warmth is meant just for you.
You know that their hearts melt
when their lips slowly turn into a smile
every time they see you.
You know your love would give up everything
just to be with you.
Love is a feeling that slowly kills
a little bit of you,
yet you love..
Because it keeps you alive.
On a fine snowy, winter evening, I donned my cozy layers of warmth and stepped out to buy a bottle of milk and a loaf of bread. Walking down the hillside I noticed something rolling down the snow.
“Must be kids playing with snowballs.” I said to myself and continued walking.
Then all of a sudden the snowball landed near my feet. I stopped when I saw something glistening under the snow. It moved and I could see a pair of shining crystal eyes, it purred and wiggling itself out of the snow.
I bent down slowly, “Hey there, you furry little friend!”, she replied with a soft mew and followed me all the way to the bakery. I fed her a few crumbs of cheese, she purred contently and we walked back home together happily.
#BookReview
The book Asymmetry by the new author Lisa Halliday evoked many mixed emotions. I couldn’t say I really liked the book neither can I say that it was terrible.
The book started off really well with Mary-Alice, a young editor, sitting at a park bench beside a supposedly popular writer. His identity is hidden for the first ten pages. However, when the “famous writer” Ezra Blazer’s name is thrown randomly in the middle of the story, it makes you wonder why was his identity hidden if he was going to be introduced so lamely.
The absurd relation between the aged writer, Ezra and Mary-Alice can sometimes be uncomfortable to read when the author writes so crassly about their intimate moments like when Alice asks Ezra over a phone call if he wants to meet for a “Fucky Fuck?”. Some parts in the book just lack refinement, there is a paragraph on farts, a random woman retching in the subway, and many such weird inclusions that are absolutely unnecessary.
Asymmetry includes three parts: Folly, Madness, and Ezra Blazer’s Desert Island Discs.
Folly is mostly about the confused relation between Ezra and Alice. Madness gives an insight about the Iraq war and the daily struggles of Iraqis. The last part in the book is an elaborate interview of Ezra Blazer who discusses his personal life, his experiences and interests.
There are certain extracts in the book which are interesting to read and well-written. However, the book is extremely abstract, it lacks character development and makes it hard for the readers to connect with the story. Also, the exhaustive details about the unimportant characters in the book makes it very tedious to read.
The concept of including the difficult circumstances of Iraq, the war, and the determined efforts and hopes of Iraqis to achieve peace was interesting to read but somewhere the story again loses it’s impact when the author switches back and forth from the past to the present to the memories of the characters, and to the detailed unnecessary descriptions. I was hoping till the end that there would be some kind of an obvious link between the three parts of the book and that the characters, Mary-Alice, Ezra, and Mr. Jafaari would somehow get connected but the story just ended and left me disappointed. The author’s attempt of writing about justice, power, and geography turned out to be more of a mess and confusion.
Haunted castle.
Restless ocean.
Dreary thunderous night.
Dusty curtains.
Lost footsteps.
Creaky wooden floors.
Dirty hingeless doors.
Rusty leaking taps.
Sleepy rabid bats.
Withered old trees.
A rustle on dried leaves.
A shadow with the breeze.
A lacy low-cut red gown.
A gasp.
A silent forgotten scream.
It was a chilly winter night when I saw her.
Haute or mysterious?
A black floppy wide brim hat covered her eyes.
Her red lips left behind a trail of smoke,
as she walked past me
with the echoes of her high heels
resonating in the dark alley.
Like every other day Mira was stared at again while walking on the streets.
Why?
Mira was not dressed provocatively or doing anything inappropriate. She was only walking, like the rest of the men. The only difference is men never get stared at. Nobody cares what a man wears but women on the streets, in the buses, in the malls, in restaurants, in the supermarkets are often gawked at.
Mira thanks her lucky stars on days when people do not notice her in certain places. Women get used to the ogling, it is normal for them. Men stare lecherously, follow women, whistle at them, pass comments, wink, brush against women, and then there are worse things that they do but claim that women are treated equally!
Today, Mira saw a girl crossing a bustling street at an intersection. A traffic police on the other side of the road was staring at the girl all along. As soon as she crossed the road he came extremely close to the girl and touched her waist inappropriately. The girl did not stop for a second to react, she continued walking with the same pace, fast with her head down. Mira was shocked to see this happen to the girl. She stood there staring at the traffic police who pretended like he had done nothing wrong a second ago!
This is the state of our country. Why do men commit such shameful acts? Is it because they are uneducated? Who do women trust, how many complains to lodge? Punishment for crimes of acid attacks, rape, molestation, domestic violence, and eve teasing should be made severe. Only when there is fear of consequences will men think twice before committing such crimes.
The population of India is in millions, expecting an immediate change is silly but women will continue fighting and writing about safety until we know we are safe in our own country. The daily struggle will continue with a hope that men will change and stop making women uncomfortable.
Miss Kitten is embracing the winter season in style by wrapping a cashmere blue scarf around her fluffy fur. Her cheeks go pink every time the cold wind bothers her.
She smiled in the mirror
while braiding her hair
with fair daisies.
She pinned them tightly
then draped on her
Rosy-pink saree like in 1980s.
Her face gleamed with joy
The kohl in her doe-eyes
Was a reason to many broken-hearted cries.
The pink lily talcum perfumed her cheeks
I look at her fondly
as Amma walks past me
like a summer breeze.
#BookReview
I held the third book of The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson and my hands trembled.
It has been a storming journey these past few months with The Way of Kings and The Words of Radiance. A significant part of me now belongs in the realm of the Shattered Plains with Kaladin, Shallan, Dalinar, Szeth, and Jasnah Kholin. There hasn’t been an idle moment in my regular life because even when I am not reading the books, I am thinking about Shardblades, Highstorms, Chasms, Sprens, Parshendi, and of course Kaladin! Sometimes absent-mindedly when I feel low on energy I take in a deep breath hoping I could suck in some stormlight to come alive.
What can we say about Sanderson’s mastery on Worldbuilding, this imaginary world is tremendous and fantastic. It seems more real to me than my everyday life! Yeah, like summoning a Shardblade in ten seconds, feeling overjoyed when Kaladin learns the Lashings and runs with the winds, or learning how highstorms can infuse dun spheres with stormlight, did not sound surprising to me they are totally believable, and of course the concepts blew my mind.
The personalities of the protagonists are so charismatic and powerful that no amount of praise or superlatives can do them justice. At times when I am sad or in pain, I remember the struggles of Kaladin and I instantly feel better. I seek him for strength and hope. I am a beginner at sketching but every time I sit down to sketch, I feel like Shallan. I would like to believe we have similar personalities, you see! When I come across dishonorable, immoral and sinful humans, I feel hopeful thinking honor might be dead but we still have Dalinar around. I might sound crazy, but this is the kind of influence the characters have upon me. I absolutely love them and adore them. They are mine – Kaladin, Shallan, Szeth, Dalinar, and Jasnah Kholin! ALL MINE, extra love for Kaladin tho.
Now, that I am proceeding on to the next book of the series, I experience an unexplainable fear and hesitation to start. I know that I will not be disappointed by the author but as a reader I hope I continue to be at my imaginary best to thoroughly be consumed by the third book of The Stormlight Archive – The Oathbringer!
I must be truly Stormblessed to have found this epic work of art, a real masterpiece! Thank you Brandon Sanderson! *_*
“Life before Death
Strength before Weakness
Journey before Destination”
A red blazing spark of light shot down from the dark clouds that turned up out of nowhere. The sharp crackling sound of thunder got my heart racing. I had never seen anything like this before.
Wait, did I just see two human forms in the clouds with swords? Or were they only birds? The lightning must have blurred my vision!
The red lightning struck again! I quickly roll down the window of my cab to look up at the sky. I see a whirlpool forming. The clouds start drowning into the vast darkness of the whirlpool.
It looks like a portal. I have seen sci-fi films and read many fantasy books, always wishing out-of-ordinary instances like these would occur someday to make life extraordinary. However, this was not fiction, it was happening for real, I could see a portal in the sky!
This cannot be true. I stare at it without blinking my eyes. I can feel my heart sinking, drowning in fear but unable to react.
“Is it only the sky or will we all get absorbed into the darkness of this portal?”, I whisper to myself.
I am not quite sure how I feel at this very moment, I am not crying out in fear neither am I panicking. I guess shock has taken over my emotions and all I can do is gape with my mouth wide open at the flying humans in the sky and the red storm approaching through the open whirlpool.
Inquisitive is probably how I feel. I do not want this storm to consume me neither do I want it to stop, I wonder what this miracle is! How can I say that I want it to stop? Monotony of life has gotten deep into my skin, I shouldn’t be complaining. A supernatural phenomenon like this has never happened before, I should make the most of it!
In a flash, I decide to jump out of the cab to marvel at the rarity of this occurrence. I need to remember this, I need to write it down, sketch it, or wait..the fastest way to capture this moment is to click a photo. So, I look down to hunt for my phone in my bag and I suddenly realize the entire world just stopped.
Feeling dazed, I look around to find myself in the middle of a bustling street. Cars start honking and people step out of their shops and cars to look at me, and then I see my cab driver running in panic towards me. Everyone looks as startled as I am. I look at them and immediately look up at the sky. Nothing. It’s a bright sunny day!
I stand horrified in the middle of the street holding a book in my hand, The Words of Radiance by Brandon Sanderson.
*Things Book Lovers DO*
Nuraine Sadaf 