Just read...

Well! I haven't read widely enough to actually comment, but what the heck, we live in a democracy and morever who has read enough - remember Avvaiyar's Katradhu kaimann alavu. So here I go gabbling, like I know.

When an author puts his/her protagonist in a situation where everything they hold dear, everything they believe in is put to question, it simply results in an Outstanding work of fiction. While the character may end up holding on to their beliefs and continue doing the same things they did before, the whole process of rethinking what they, until then took for granted is the clincher. It is after all, not the destination that counts. You may arrive at the same point that you started from, it is that journey that matters.

Many eminent authors have wielded this genre to produce aeonian works. I just finished reading one such - Richard Russo's "The Empire Falls" and like many who hoped it to be 'Star Wars' like, I discovered that the semblance ended with the title. The book is set in one of those ubiquitous, yet strangely invisible little towns, Empire Falls and the metamorphosis of one man - Miles Roby.

Excerpts from "Empire Falls". (This is about Miles Roby unrequited 'crush' on Charlene Gardner, a once-gorgeous lady)

Instead of seeing his crush on her as an occassion for ridicule - by far the most effective cure for a crush - she managed to convey that both Miles and his infatuation were sweet. She didn't encourage him to persist in his folly, but neither could she bring herself to treat his devotion as something shabby or worthless. Mockery and contempt, Miles would have understood and accepted as his due, but affection and gratitude confused him deeply. Gratitude for her kindness clouded his judgement and the proximity that she allowed him was simply too intoxicating to give up, so he convinced himself that her fondness was merely the beginning, that if given the opportunity it would metamorphose quite naturally into love.

To my friend who is sadly in pretty much the same state as Miles, I am sorry. Truth sucks. To all others, I strongly recommend this book.

Bushwalking

Have you ever felt "This is not my forte, but how I wish it was!". Well! That about sums up my weekend in bush territory.

Bushwalking is a distinctive pastime of the fair-dinkum Aussie. Every weekend they would pack their gear (tents, sleeping bags, compass, maps, sunglasses, sun-block and a million other things stuffed in a Brobdingnagian bag), fuel up their 4WDs and disappear into one of those numerous 'National Parks' to have a good time Bushwalking.



To be 100 kms from the nearest civilization is not my idea of a 'good time'. However, a friend of mine advocated, rather glibly that we plunge into bushwalking and I buckled. It didn't sound too depressing and I was convinced it wouldn't hurt to try. So we packed our gear (borrowed it from a bushwalker), fuelled up my car (who said size mattered) and set-off to the bush for the weekend.

To be fair, it was an amazing experience. The drive was great till we entered the forest and then it became an almost celestial experience. On Saturday we climbed the “Pigeons House” – a trail up a rattling steep mountain. I am positive that no pigeon would build a house at such frightening heights, even if it could fly to it and not climb as we had to. Nevertheless, it was a marked trail and there were a few fellow-climbers and I was happy for it. I was more than exhausted by the ascent and ‘managed’ to complete it with ample (and immensely irritating) time-outs. My poor friend must have cussed himself for convincing me to join him. The denouement, alas! was less than happy – for the summit was closed to the public. Whoever said the “juice was worth the squeeze” - for all my huffing and puffing I couldn’t catch the view from the top. Sigh !

Camping that night was fun- with the knowledge that there was not a soul around for miles. Surprisingly sleep was forthcoming. Well! Not really surprising. If you walked up ‘Pigeons house’, you could sleep even in the center of Mt. Road. In the silence of the night, it was no struggle. The cold weather we were so anxious about didn’t mar the sleep (owing to our incredibly good gear).

Sunday was no less exciting with a fair few Kangaroos hopping out of the field of vision of my camera before I clicked (The cursed Kodak I have took a good 5 seconds from the time I switch it on to be in a position to click). Not to be beaten we drove to an obscure place by the sea where a lovely couple (of Kangaroos) basked in the morning sun and showed little resistance to our insistent clicking.



The Mt. Budawang that we intended to conquer that day didn’t want us to, I guess and it took us more than quite a while to find the hidden trial. In fact we were so lost driving with not an idea about where we were that I was afraid we had reached Peru when we came across Llamas in a farm. The scramble up Mt. Budawang was less eventful – for one I took less time-outs. Then, of course there was the fact that we were the only ones walking the trail.

My trusted Mazda warrants a mention here. In spite of being the car it is, it fared well. Quite well, I must say. In fact it was the heartening lesson of the trip. You may not be ‘built’ for it but it sure doesn’t connote that you cannot or should not attempt a particularly unsuitable task.

Anyway, as I began saying, there are some things in the world that you know are just not your métier but that doesn’t entail you can’t enjoy it once. Or twice. Or a few times.

p.s. Due to popular demand, am including the pictures in the blog (actually took me this long to figure out how to do it)

The costliest Birthday party!

Readers need not be deceived into believing that I am talking about Madam.Jayalalitha's birthday bash or Superstar Rajni's. I am talking of my own Birthday yesterday, which left me 4000 rupees (A$120) poorer. It all started with a simple, "Why don't we go out for dinner on my B'day?". The invitee list soon swelled to six (one of them didn't turn up) and a "ROYAL" dinner at Jehangir - one of the better Indian restaurants in Canberra, ensued. And no less than the Australia's Minister for Foreign Affairs dined in the next table. Needless to say, that is how I found myself poorer. I should add that the company was worth every cent of it and the event no less. And it made me happy (considering my turbulent mind the past week very very happy - which is the whole purpose of celebration). Perhaps I wouldn't host a birthday party again - as one of my friends at the dinner commented, I have outgrown the age where the passing of a year is a cause of cheer.

Yes! It was the costliest birthday party. I lost the right to celebrate (cheerfully) one anymore. Oh! the passing of years.