bunjee jumper to sea diver: January 2007

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Reflection: The way to know the SELF

'okie this is an attempt to know myself. this is a kind of a self potrayal but I didn't write it in first person narration as it would have been limited to myself then. well everyone searches for his/her self reflection at times and in thist regard this article might represent each one of you. enjoy the read and yes comments are always welcomed.'

She has a craving to know oneself. She looks at her image at every place possible. Whenever she is in the streets going to some places she never misses to glance secretly at her self reflection in the glass panes of the big stores just to have the feeling that she is looking alright. Alright?? Well she is herself unsure what that alright means to her. She is not a beautiful lady, not even attractive. She is not the kind of person who strives to look pretty or attractive. She is satisfied in whatever she is. "Cool!!" as others sometimes remark her attitude, will be a perfect word to describe her. Yet, she never misses to have a glance of her self image wherever possible. Be it in washrooms or college canteens, she doesn't miss to have a look at herself. Had it been others, they would have never wished to see these flairs of hairs, bushy brows, dark complexion again and again, she contends. She thinks looking at oneself again and again helps her feel confident, eloquent and important. Self reflection helps her to know oneself better.

She is reading Paulo Coelho's 'Veronica decides to die' and now she has a very strange desire of dying as even her life is all so very boring and monotonous. She is all aware of the fact that life has many things to offer to her and that she may feel like living again. Yet she wants to feel the way Veronica must have felt when she finally decided to take the pills and attempt to die. This is not the only time when she has compared her life with that of the characters of the books she read. Through books she has succeeded to live many lives which otherwise would have been almost impossible. In this way, she searches for self even in the books. Talking of self, she remembers the sleepless nights she'd spent in search of her self after reading Siddhartha. At one point she even thought of giving up everything and then going on the journey of finding self. "Ah! I was so foolish then", she laughs now.

She recounts the time after watching Rang De Basanti. How patriotic she had felt then. She could feel her blood boiling with the desire to fight and die for the country. How, Doll's House by Henric Ibsen, staged at Gurukul had made her feel a strong revolting woman. Even snaps of the People's Revolution II had forced her to find herself at that place. After seeing the pictures of people shouting and fighting for democracy, she also went to the streets to protest and intonate her voice with that of other people. "I had been a real hero then", she remarks proudly. "I had for the instant found myself as a fighting youth and was satisfied with what I discovered about myself", she confides.

Knowing oneself or making an attempt to know self is not pleasant every time. She is well aware of this fact. But she can't help searching this self every where possible. Looking for one self, at all odds has become her habit, an obsession indeed. She wants to feel herself in every book she reads, in all the music she plays, every movies she watches and every other things where she thinks finding this "Self" is possible.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Living with the books

I don't really remember how I got into books. My entry to the world of books was quite dramatic. I still remember those old days when books were just a bulk of strange words to me. However, pictures were appealing. I started turning the pages of book merely to see the colorful pictures of prince, princess, birds, animals, trees and hills. Pictures took me into words. Cinderella, Snow white, Little red riding hood, Rapunzul, had come into my world only at 13. At the age when others were already into Canon Doyle, Enid Blyton, Agatha Christie, I was still into fairy tales, enjoying the world of fairies, astounded and enthralled.

The world of fairies was followed by the world of adventures. My interest in books had shifted from fairy tales to adventure and detective stories. I was reading the adventures of Famous four and Famous Fives, Sherlock Holmes and Nancy Drew. I was in fact living with the characters. Every time I read the adventures of Famous Five, I imagined myself to be one of them. I was Discovering things that never existed and solving mysteries that were not at all intricate. The experience was incredible. My growth in books was rather slow. I was still enjoying children's fiction when my friends were reading Shakespearean Plays.

Different people had different roles in nurturing my interest in reading. I remember my Nepali teacher who ushered me into the world of Nepali literature. Without having a slightest indication of what I was to get I'd already entered the world of Devkota, B.P. Koirala, Paarizaat, Diamond Shumsher Rana, Bhupi Sherchan, all veterans in Nepali literature. I think it was my sister who took me into the realm of modern English fiction. I used to read every book she kept on her desk without her knowing it. This is how I grew my interest in adult fiction.

I live with the characters of every book I read. I find pleasure in living with the Holden Caulfield of Catcher in the Rye, dreaming like Santiago of the Alchemist, learning philosophies like Sophie of Sophie's world. I used to discuss philosophies of Plato and Aristotle with friends to whom they were but some characters from Mars. I didn't care though. I continued living in my own world of books. Astounding events, breath taking characters, touching emotions, painstaking efforts, I was living through every bit of them. Every time I complete reading a book, emptiness strikes me. I feel nostalgic. And the hangover haunts me for few days.

Books have provided me with a blissful world of words and emotions. Khalil Gibraan's Prophet taught me to live, Hemingway's Old Man and the Sea to move ahead despite all adversaries, Arundhati Roy's God of Small things to dare and go against the conservative society, Yaan Martel's Life of Pi to learn from life as it comes. I have learnt to enjoy the wonders of world through books. The complexness of life, relationships, pleasure of love, enthralling adventure, fidelity of people from different society, religion, beliefs; I have lived through all of those in books. Be it exam's tension, anguish of breaking up with boy friend or having a row with my sister over some petty issues, I have come over them and lived my life as happily as ever all because of this wonderful world of books.

At one point of time I used to read books out of necessity and compulsion. Then it was for amusement. Now, having come to this stage when I read book for pleasure and peace of soul, books have become my passion, an obsession indeed. It has become a part of my life without which it is very difficult for me to move ahead.