Book Review: Ramayana - The Game of Life - Shattered Dreams

This book is the second part in the Ramayana - The Game of Life series by Shubha Vilas. The timeline is set twelve years after Ram's marriage to Sita. The author has drawn influence from the writings of Valmiki and Tulsidas, and attributes his interest in this epic mythological drama to the daily storytelling session by his grandmother. The book begins with Rama's coronation as the king of Ayodhya, followed by Manthara's sinister scheme to crown Bharatha and send Rama to exile, which leads to the death of a heartbroken Dasaratha, and ends with the trio of Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana's departure towards the Dandakarnaya forest. 

High points:

1. The narration is gripping, it kept me hooked to the book with its interesting storyline. I was intrigued by the author's method of looking into the soul of the character and writing out his deepest, innermost feelings. 

2. Each page is filed with vivid description of the scene and the characters. Its like the scene is coming to life in front of your eyes. Its a reader's delight when one gets to read such a visually enriching scene.

3. There is a detailed character sketch for the characters who drive the story forward. I could feel Dasaratha's fear as he was tormented each night by the recurring nightmares, and also his relief when the subjects at the royal court accepted Rama as his successor. 

4. Presence of footnotes. This book is not only a retelling of an epic, but also aims to motivate the reader and help him in his spiritual journey as he embarks on this reading trip. It would not have been easy, if not for the presence of footnotes at the end of each page which offers a simple but detailed explanation for the section referenced.

Low points:

1. Since the book is part of a series, it is best if one has read the first book in the series Ramayana - The Game of Life - Rise of the Sun Prince. 

2. In certain sections, the narration loses its pace and there is an excess of detail which makes it a slow read. But then again good things come to those who wait, so patience is a quality that comes in handy when reading this book.

Final verdict: The Ramayana - The Game of Life - Shattered Dreams (Book 2) is an interesting read for anyone who is looking out for understanding the wisdom concealed within the stories of the epic, Valmiki's Ramayana. It provides a deep insight into the characters mind and also does a brilliant job in recreating the scene in the reader's mind. Since I havenot read the first part of this book series, I would recommend that one should read the Ramayana - The Game of Life - Rise of the Sun Prince (Book 1) first to gain a better understanding of the story and its memorable characters.

This post is a part of Book Review Program for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. Participate now to get free books!

Heavy on Salt

"The dal was heavy on salt.", he declared as soon as he walked in to the house. Back from office, he set down the grey and black backpack on the floor, proceeded to sit on the chair lined next to the rickety rack of shoes. It was as if the salt had cast a dry spell on his day and had sucked out all charm out of it. This was of course was unacceptable to Mamoni. 

 

Mamoni frowned and said,"It tasted fine to me." and just like that she questioned Meera, "Beta did you add salt to the dal when you warmed it up this morning?". The question took Meera by surprise. She had been busy typing away the course objectives of the presentation for a POC which was due the next day. All her focus was in the laptop screen; she considered herself fortunate the days she did not have to  be part of such conversations. Today was not going to be one such day.

She looked up from her laptop, puzzlement written all over her face. "Are Biren said the dal was over-salted. Did you add more salt?", Mamoni asked her in a sweet stern voice. Meera looked at her husband for a sign and he looked away. Mumbling to himself, Biren withdrew into the inner room dragging the backpack after him.

Meera jogged her memory back to the morning hours. Today morning she had woken up late by 10 minutes and that had set her routine back. She had taken out the kaddu ki sabji and doled out a portion of it to warm it up for the lunch. Meanwhile she had brushed her teeth, collected the milk packet from the packet, taken out the dal for heating up. But she did not remember adding the salt. "I did not.", Meera replied softly. Mamoni looked at her with a look that accused her of lying. She was a Leo, known to be a fierce woman who reigned over her household, and the kitchen was her domain. She was not going to be found lacking in handling this situation. Just this evening she had told Meera how the begunis she had made on Sunday, were low on salt. "Baki sob thik, noon ta ektu kom chilo", she gave her critique's feedback. 

Meera was disheartened on hearing it. That afternoon, when she was serving the beguni along with hot kichudi, Mamoni had showered praises on her. She declared that the begunis had come out right, crisp and tasty. Biren was beaming with pride. He knew that it was not easy to a good word from Mamoni's mouth. If only he knew what was on Mamoni's mind.

Salt is a key ingredient which is used for adding flavour in many cuisines. One has to be very careful while adding salt. A little more and the food could become unpalatable, a little less and the food could go untouched on the plate. It has to be there in the correct quantity so that one can savour the taste and enjoy the food. Criticism is just like salt, a little more and you can make someone unhappy, doubtful of their abilities; little less and they would be too sure of their skills to even care for improving. Meera mused as she lay on the bed, eyes locked on the fan above, blades following each other in a never ending chase. 

Quote on Soul Mate

This quote by Elizabeth Gilbert explores the concept of soul mate as told to her by a friend. It completely shatters the usual belief that is related to soul mates and marriage. 

This post is a part of IndiSpire, initiative for Indian Bloggers by IndiBlogger. IndiSpire topic of the week: Soul mate is not necessarily your life mate. What do you feel? Express your take...#Soulmate.

Musings on the Edge

Draped in a fiery red benarasi sari, she stood still, staring at the evening sun as it went behind the old neem tree. A cold breeze blew in through the window. Meera drew the end of her sari over the shoulder wrapping it around herself. 

Countless thoughts flashed across her mind - she thought about her parents, her Dada and Boudi, she thought about Roy, who had come down for her big day cradling an adorable baby in her arms, and she thought about Sid.

Sid. In her mind, she was eighteen years old, sitting at her seat in the classroom. The last time she was here, she was ten years younger, fired with the ambition of becoming a lawyer, and nursing a secret crush for Sid. He was new to their school, having joined their class to pursue his eleventh class studies. She remembered him as a tall boy with dark eyebrows and a deep booming voice. That had got him the title of Danav. And even after all these years it had stuck.

Last month when Sunil had met her, he had been excited about the reunion that was planned for March. It would be exactly ten years since they had passed out of school. Most of their classmates had left Jamshedpur for their higher studies, they continued to live away from home for job interests, but always came back for family, friends or any celebrations. But not for Meera. Her family had moved from Jamshedpur as soon as she completed her school. She was reluctant to go back and “Meera you have to come!”, said Sunil in exasperation when she had expressed her disinterest in the event.

Last year when she turned 26, she decided to stay back in Chennai, quietly bidding adieu to her the first quarter of her life. And most probably her spinsterhood. Off late all the conversations with her parents revolved around her marriage. They were old and anxious, and promised that they could breathe in peace if only she gave her consent for marriage. Meera was caught in the web of life. She had moved to Chennai, hoping to meet the love of her life. But fate was cruel and didn't allow her to move past her memories of Sid. The clock was ticking, and she still hadn't moved on. She could not make it to the reunion. That evening she had sat with her laptop, looking at her timeline which was flooding with updates and photographs from the reunion. The faces were bright with big smiles and crinkled eyes. And there in one of the photos, she saw him. That moment she felt regret seeping into her heart. She had lost her chance. 

She was startled by a loud knock at her door. "Meeraa! Have you draped the sari beta?", it was her beloved mashi. "The lady from the beauty parlour will be here any minute now. Hurry up". Meera shut her eyes, disappointed that her sojourn with her last evening as a spinster came to an end.

Trip to the Land of One Hundred Thousand Islands

Lakshadweep - in Sanskrit it means the land of one hundred thousand islands. Located in the Laccadive sea, this archipelago is the smallest of all the union territories of India. Only ten of the islands are inhabited, for which Kavaratti serves as the administrative capital. To get to Lakshadweep, we boarded an Air India flight from Kochi which flew us to the island of Agatti. Agatti not only houses the airport for Lakshadweep, but also connects to Kochi by sea.

The water is so blue. That was my first thought when I looked down to the sea. It was azure blue, turquoise green, aquamarine blue - the sight of this beautiful, rich color just fills your mind and prepares you for an memorable experience of a lifetime.  

Our stay was confirmed at the government resort at Kavaratti. From Agatti, the island was a high speed boat ride away. Imagine my glee when I saw this beauty waiting to zoom us away to our holiday destination. 

But the happy moments didn't last long. They definitely didn't survive the two hour long ride. I could feel my stomach doing somersaults as the boat bounced up and down and cut through the waters. Finally my prayers were answered, and we reached Kavaratti. It houses a cooperative hospital, and a couple of secondary schools. They also have a desalination plant to cater to the needs of island's inhabitants. Since most of the inhabitants trace their roots back to Kerala, Malyalam is the most commonly spoken language in the island. Having said that, we never had any trouble communicating with the locals. We could converse in English, Hindi, and my limited knowledge of Tamil.

The port had a desolate look; our van driver informed us that most people had gone to the mosque to offer prayers. By the time we reached our resort, it was almost four o' clock. 

Our next couple of days were spent exploring the sea.  On our glass-boat ride we saw quite a few corals, both dead and live ones. The white corals are the dead corals and they are found in plenty around the shoreline of the island. Even the fish here were so colorful! The fishermen who had accompanied us, had brought along bread to feed the fish. I also got a chance to feed them a few crumbs. It was a thrilling moment to feel their tiny mouths as they fed on the bread crumbs. That was definitely one of the most memorable moments of the trip.

Here are a few photos taken over at our stay in Kavaratti, Lakshadweep.  

When the sea and land meet...

So blue!!

Our ride to Kavaratti

A calm sea greets us the next morning

Feeding the fish

Agatti Airport

The Bucket List

There are times when you are sure of what you want and then are times when you just draw a blank. When I was presented with this topic, I experienced the latter state of mind. But then this comes in a good time. Treating this as a chance to do a little introspection and understand my soul’s aspirations before it departs for a trip to next world. So here it goes, the ten things I must do before I die:

1. Have my own library
2. Travel to Rishikesh
3. Trek to Chandra Taal lake, Spiti valley
4. Visit Landour and meet Ruskin Bond
5. Learn a foreign language
6. Participate in a golgappa eating contest
7. Learn swimming
8. Read my old NCERT history books
9. Participate in a half-marathon
10. Write a blog post every month

This post is a part of IndiSpire, initiative for Indian Bloggers by IndiBlogger. IndiSpire topic of the week: Post about your Bucket List - The ten things you must do before you die #LifeDeathBucketList.

Denial

Standing at the crowded Tambaram station, she shifted the umbrella to the other hand, and wiped the grime and sweat from her brow. After waiting for him for the past one hour, her patience was beginning to wear thin. She made her way through the crowd and sat on a bench overlooking the station entrance which admitted a fresh stream of passengers every minute. Dipak had promised to meet her there after his classes got over. The station was a half an hour ride away from his college. The signal near his college was notorious for its hour long traffic jams. There was a very good chance that he got caught in one of them. Or maybe there was the extra class which the head of the department had been planning for long time. She tried to pacify herself by trying to reason out the delay in his presence, but was running out of both time and excuses. 

The group of girls who had taken seat next to her were discussing the latest Surya movie. She found the topic of discussion excessively juvenile and was annoyed at the effect their presence had on her already disturbed mind. Thankfully, their talks came to an end and they dispersed.

All her previous calls made to Dipak had gone unanswered. Fidgeting with the mobile she debated if she should just walk away and board the train. As if on a cue, the unmistakable automated female voice announced loudly, “Passengers please pay attention! The next train to Chennai Beach will be arriving shortly on platform number 1” and then the voice continued to relay the message in Tamil and Hindi. Her eyes looked furtively at the group of people, scanning them for Dipak’s familiar face. Her irresolute state of mind was proving to be of no help. Next moment, the train pulled in sounding loud notes; women made their way to the ladies compartment, others moved towards the closest coach with an empty seat.

Dipak was nowhere in sight. Reluctant, she took slow steps and climbed into a coach. As she settled into a seat in the farthest corner of the coach, with a heavy heart, eyes brimming with tears, she silently made a vow not to wait for him. It was all empty promises, with heart break written all over it. As the train chugged out, her mobile notified a message from D. He wrote: Mamta came back with the kids. She is not agreeing to the divorce, and we fought a little. I am sorry, it got late and I missed my train. I have boarded the next train; will meet you in Tambaram shortly.

Without a second thought she typed back: Do not wait for me. Its time you make a choice. Goodbye.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. WOW theme of the week: Post must include the line: '... and I missed my train.'