The Reader by Bernhard Schlink- A book review

      

 

Known for its impact of eroticism and moral claims upon the reader, The Reader is a contemporary fiction. It tells a mesmerizing story of love, secrets, betrayal, guilt, horror and compassion against the backdrop of post war Germany. It’s an autobiographical novel about a 15-year old, Michael Berg who falls in love with Hanna Schmidt, a woman twice his age.

What makes this book interesting is, after a brief love-affair; Hanna disappears suddenly until years later they meet in a court where the boy is visiting a trial about war crimes as a law student.

The Reader takes us literally to the German city after the Holocaust through the eyes of Michael and Hanna. One can see the growing love connection of the two distinct people and feel the betrayals and guilt as secrets are revealed in a surprising manner.

What I loved about the book is that it opens your eyes to the raw humanity portrayed through the characters in postwar Germany and how it is beautifully captured in writing is amazing! The title of the book itself is a real cache which encircles the storyline and once you start reading you cannot stop pondering as to whose shoes you must put yourself into. Never-ending page flipping is guaranteed until you finish the book. This book has been made in to a major motion picture where Kate Winslet won the Oscar for best actress in 2009.

This appeared in the 3rd edition of Yeewong magazine.

What have they done to me now?

What have they done to me now? 

Once a valley lashed with green paddy fields is now torn down. 

They have emptied away the mirth in me, have abused me, mutilated my pride and happiness with this thing called urbanization. Urbanization, how loathsome is the process!

I used to greet the people entering the city with the lush green paddy fields. People used to plunge inside me with their peasant foot at this time of the year and reap the fruits of success later on in autumn with lots of merry making. 

In the fall, when I was dry, children returning from school used to jump on me and sometimes they used to roll over me, that feeling of being able to give them a place of playground made me joyous. Cows, bulls, goats used to graze on me, on the fruits I used to bear. I could cater to the humans needs, be it to the school going kids or to the adults or to the cattle. A purpose-driven life I used to have then. How I miss that now, sigh!

Why does urbanization have to be unkind? Why?

I am deprived of the green paddy fields now. Instead huge concrete buildings have overtaken and been constructed on me. When the foundation was laid upon me for their buildings, it sucked the blood out of me. 

Boy, monstrous bull dozers started razing upon me. It was too painful. My neighbor screamed in pain when the monster came razing upon us, who would hear us? No one, our screams vanished among the loud rumble and screech of the monster and left us helpless. A huge truck runs over and splashes a poodle of dirt making me messier than ever.  Day and night, people in yellow helmets terrorize us and start hitting from the top, there is chaos everywhere, I can’t take rest nor go to sleep. My eyes have been hollow from the less sleep I have had since this thing called urbanization plundered us.

Every morning, I hate to be an audience to the angry office-goers. They come stamping on me, marring my beauty sleep, waking me up to loud curses. Every one of them curses me. Curse me for being muddy in the summer and dusty in the winter. If it rains then the matter becomes worse. I hate to see their frowning faces. At least the old ones are patient and tread on me carefully minding their feet, in case they slip over me. I can’t help but be a sincere spectator to the people crossing by. I pray for the rain not to pour down in the morning especially so that the people go to their workplace happy. 

When the sun shines, I become less muddy and I see smiles on peoples’ face and they cross by happily. When it rains, I just cannot imagine. Women cannot go about me in their pretty sleek heels, their heels dig deep inside me. Oh how it hurts! Their feet and dress becomes sore with the mud and people go on cursing and cursing. Looks like I have not done enough karma in my previous life to be cursed every minute this life. 

Who is responsible for things to be normal again? People themselves I believe. Had I been left as I was I would be a lot happier, people would have been less troubled. And I would not have been cursed as I am. And now I curse you, O urbanization!

P.S~~ Inspiration from the pathetic Olakha road

Of growing up and wanting to become what not

I grew up playing with my little brother who is just 2 and half years younger than me. Mother used to knit us sweaters in the winter, of the same color except the size: mine used to be just a little larger than his. 

Today both of us started working the same time, though his perks being a little heavier than mine for the stupid reason of him being a technical grad and me just some general grad though I spent a year doing post graduate diploma. I do not understand the government’s policy for the special preference rendered to the technical graduates :(  I am just so jealous and you know what FRUSTRATED!!!!!!

With frocks and shirts clad around my lean body (I was lean then: P) I used to play the doctor and him the patient. For reasons unknown I always wanted to become a dentist when I grow up. That was my childhood dream. With a scarp tied around my neck, used as a pseudo stethoscope I used to check brother’s teeth and say it is perfectly al rite every time :).

This inspiration must have come when mother used to take me to the dentist for the regular check up. There was this young lady dentist who used to do my check up for how bad my teeth were since then. Seeing her moving in the white apron, amusement was what I used to be filled with and I longed to become like her. Perhaps I should believe that she was my icon of the time.

Growing up my ambition took its twist. I wanted to become a lawyer, for whatever reasons unknown again. I did not have the slightest idea as to what it takes to become a lawyer. When the young trainee teachers used to come to our school for apprenticeship, their first class would be the session of introducing yourself, basically they would like to know who you are, where you are from and what you want to become when you grow up. And not to forget, what your hobbies are, I am sure you must be having the same story as mine:).

When asked what I want to become I would promptly say ‘a lawyer!’ Later on in life right after finishing college I did my share of asking the same rapid questions to the students when I became a teacher for a year:). It was pretty much fun though and the answers were amusing especially when some of them said that they want to become a DJ and for some of them they had no ambitions in life at all. Call it ironic but I found it sad:(

Hmmnnn…when I was in junior high, Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys series inspired me a lot to become a detective haha. And Mr. Goon in the Enid Blyton’s series was my favorite villain. The Famous Five was another favorite of mine. All these books were a boost to my dream of becoming a detective when I grow up. 

Maturity must have started to implant on me. On a serious note, I wanted to become a social worker. Oh I used to crack my head a lot as to what requires being a social worker. And at the end all the thoughts used to vanish in rubble of ashes. 

Then in the middle I was stuck, aimless as you would say it. I had no ambition in life, I did not know what I wanted to become when I grow up. Maybe then I was waiting for my call in life. I just moved on with the flow.

I had a keen interest in literature and wanted to study literature but the forces of nature, the evolution of earth and the study of earth in wholesome made me take up geography and I graduated with a meager grade in geography. 

Life after college was not easy; this huge task of sitting for the RCSC exam had me in a fix. I wanted to take up Journalism, another ambition now all of a sudden. But I was caught in between the civil service exam and journalism as a career.  Very much rampant, one can become a joournalist in Bhutan without having  to undego any journalism courses, pretty easy and illogical too. And after a few years up the career you become a editor too, wow!  Taking the earlier as my choice I made up to join the civil service and after a year-long course at RIM, I am here in the civil service, so disgruntled and dissatisfied in life. I will tell you why in my next post.

Bhutan: The Last Shangri-La

This is purely a academic work and already a published work in 'The Drukpa' sometime in May 201o issue (i dont remember exactly :P)

Abstract

Shangri-la is a utopian concept. It is the idea of an imaginary distant society in which everyone works well with each other and is happy. This is true in Bhutan. Bhutan is a distant Himalayan land which has been unexplored by the outside world. The pristine environment, preservation of Tibetan’s Buddhist culture and a strong sense of spirituality are the factors that labels Bhutan as the last Shangri-La. It has a spiritual atmosphere where war and sickness are non-existent and where there is no real concept of the passage of time. This essay discusses as to how and why Bhutan can be referred to as the last Shangri-La.

Bhutan is a tiny Himalayan Buddhist kingdom sandwiched between the two giants, China and India in the Asian subcontinent. The land of the thunder dragon, the dragon king and happiness for all are too amusing a syllable to the outside world. The Himalayan kingdom is considered as some fairy tale land in the 21^st century where perfect bliss and contentment exist. This notion has reached further heights with the introduction of the concept of Gross National Happiness (GNH) as the development philosophy. People live in peace and harmony, governed by the principle of moderation and isolated from the corruptions of civilization.

Bhutan is a real Shangri-La of legend, preserve of Himalayan culture and an ecological paradise (Langley, 2008). In its entire history, Bhutan opened her doors for the first time to the outside world in the early 1960’s. Until then, Bhutan was a country enshrouded in mystery, untainted by foreign influence or international trade. When the world was at wars, Bhutan was unheard of to the world outside. This is because the strategic location of the country in the heart of the lofty Himalayas made it unfeasible for foreigners to tread into the country. Moreover, the Bhutanese people were always suspicious of foreign influence. 

Until 1999, there was no television and internet in the country and it can be virtually said that the Bhutanese were shunned by the outside world. Bhutan then was a paradise hidden from humankind. Shangri-la is a haven of peace and tranquility and the world-weary diplomats find Bhutan as that haven for a getaway from their hectic life. Williamson (as cited in Fisher & Tashi, 2009, p.325) said ‘avarice, crime, poverty and begging’ were conspicuously absent in Bhutan. She described it as ‘a true Shangri-la.’

Bhutan is the supposed setting for James Hilton’s classic novel, Lost Horizon (1933) which introduced the world to Shangri-La, a lush, changeless world where no one grew old and the people lived according to the guiding principles of the high lama. Since time immemorial Bhutan has been unified by the great Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal to whom Hilton refers to as the ‘high lamasery.’ Here, books, music and meditation become the foundation to conserve the frail elegancies of a dying age. Remoteness, seclusion and peacefulness create a certain tranquility and timelessness in Bhutan.  

“Bhutan is a nation full of promise and potential. We have the security and confidence of our own culture and traditions…” (His Majesty Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck (as cited in Wangchhuk, 2008, p.35). His Majesty believes and is convinced that Bhutan’s rich culture and tradition will continue to strengthen the unique national identity in the years ahead. What has sustained Bhutan is its vision to be a self-reliant country where its rich legacy of culture and tradition are intact and people live in harmony with nature and the environment. 

It is the best place in the Tibetan world to see traditional-style architecture with sloping roofs; distinctly Bhutanese in design (dzongs).

Bhutan went green and stayed green long before environment became a priority elsewhere on the planet. It is a country to protect some of the planet’s last green remaining forests with the loveliest mountains on earth. Bhutan has one of the richest biodiversity in the world with about 3,281 plant species per 10,000 square kilometers and has been declared as one of the ten global biodiversity ‘hot spots’ (Introduction to Bhutan, 2010).Bhutan’s system of national parks and wildlife preserves cover over 25 per cent of its total land area which is far more than neighboring India’s and China’s, both implicated in large-scale environmental degradation. Bird-watchers love Bhutan which has over 700 bird species recorded, and botanists are thrilled by Bhutan’s range of unusual flowering species.

FRONTLINE/ World (2002) reported that Bhutan is a country with no traffic lights and no fast-food chains. It has more monks than soldiers. It may be the only country in the world to measure GNH. The active monasteries with a rich tradition, imparts spiritual training to monks. Before the introduction of the western education in Bhutan, monastic education was compulsory where every child from a family has to be sent to the monastery. Today also we see many such schools across the country.  It may take another decade or so for Bhutan to come up with traffic lights and fast-food chains. This makes Bhutan unique from rest of the world. 

Bhutan is the first nation in the world to ban tobacco in December 17, 2004. Ireland and Norway followed suit. Plastic bags are also banned. Already acclaimed as the last Shangri-La,Bhutan moved towards a more eco-friendly nation with these bold step.

According to Tenzin (n.d) culture constitutes 75 per cent of the total tourism business and it is the third largest foreign exchange earner. Culture is the foremost reason for tourists visiting Bhutan. Her strong policy of preservation of culture has become her strength to avoid outside invasion. That is why Bhutan has never been colonized like so many other countries. Bhutan did not have to go through anarchy and bloodshed unlike many other countries to transit into a democratic state and thus have become the youngest democracy in the world.

Though termed as the last Shangri-La, Bhutan is fast on the road of   modernization and. It is the fastest urbanizing nation in South Asia. However, GNH being the main development philosophy plays a vital role in balancing the acts of modernization, urbanization and spiritualism. Although the winds of globalization have started sweeping in, Bhutan will always remain as the last Shangri-La because of its stringent policy of environmental and cultural preservation.

An untreated obsession ^____^

I have this huge obsession over wedge heeled shoes... I never seem to get enough of it! Its definition and the shape, the cosmopolitan look it gives and most importantly the comfort it gives make me crazy over wedge heels. It also gives the increased balance and comfort while still allowing you to get used to having the heel of your foot placed high above the level of your toes.

It doesnot not mean i am not comfortable in stilettos, I am :) but i rather prefer wedge heels over stilettos.Ah!! how it hurts to stand on stilettos all day :( yet women love to wear it. I have had innumerable bad experiences with stilettos. A couple of them broke down when walking (which was really embaressing) :P and few of it got stuck in the holes of the sidewalk. Had a tough time to pull it off, sigh! 

Just to avoid all these ordeals unnecesarily, I am so obsessed over wedges. And how i love to flaunt in a good pair of wedge. The sexy feeling it gives you just like in a good pair of stilettos and the comfort is simply superb! :)

Oh this gray pumps are a big No No!

Yea these are the ones that i am so drooling about :P

And this one...looks so nice & comfy with the flora print :)

And here this gladiator wedge is even more trendy and can go well with any outfit

The day I graduate

It is my convocation day and I am late, holy cow!!! Well, I did not intend to be late but provided the Bhutanese stretchable time; I thought I can be chronically late by an hour. So I go to my graduation day an hour late :P. and the usher (who happened to be from my college) at the entrance nearly made me a dead meat. 

I was there to get my degree so I did not care a bit of him chiding me. Had it been for some other reasons I would not have resisted him, come what may!

After a hard time wrestling with the gown, I ran the stairs like Cinderella except that she ran out the ball room and I ran inside the hall :). 
Oh I am finally seated inside the hall and had to wait for another good 40 minutes for the actual procession. Oh how I hate the Bhutanese approach of waiting and waiting and never beginning a meeting or for that matter this special occasion. Why cannot they (we) come on time, do the business and part on time.  

Nevertheless, the good 40 minutes was worth the wait, I will tell you why?  

It marked the grand entrance of His Majesty (HM) the king with his lovely fiancée. 
Oh what could be more grandeur than this? A beautiful sight, a feast to these eyes of mine which has not laid on such a sight for a pretty long time now. 
The 45 minutes informal discourse with the king was awesome. How His Majesty began the session, it was truly romantic. It was so romantic of him to have started the discourse with Rudyard Kipling’s famous poem, “If.” 
It was a reminiscence of my childhood days when HM read out the poem so beautifully. Next he introduced his would-be bride with a kiss on her cheek. It was an outrageous royal P.D.A, How sweet! A huge round of applause followed that and we could see her blushing. :) 

The discourse was constructive, it portrays HM’s unconditional love for his people, truly a peoples’ king he is! His charisma never ceases to enchant us (me):). 
Awarding the certificate with a handshake and a photograph each with some 1000 plus graduates must have worn him out. But my king, throughout the session, not a look of despair was seen on his handsome face. 
The stolen glances to his fiancee in between the breaks made us gaga. Oooo!!! That extra mile of HM to be there for us on our big day and to award us the certificate individually is truly heart rendering.

The entire day rehearsal for the convocation the previous day had already drained me out, I had never been this tired my entire life. But the day, the moment was worth it.

Here is a sneak peek from the day; I could not capture the actions inside the hall as we were not allowed to take cameras inside. 

Tired everyone of us...queuing for the lunch at the end of the day

And finally we graduate...my roomie from college on the right :)

That Summer in Paris and Abha Dawesar - A book review

A repost again! Though spring is over, this post is in memory of the last spring I wrote about when i was in RIM(2010).

It has been quite sometime, probably a month since I last blogged in. The very reason was because I had been suffering from writer's block and the rain today jerked the inner person in me and made me come to this site again after a month or so. Its a wonder how this rain cajoled the lost passion in me today-my passion for writing, it made me bed ridden for approximately five hours and drove me to finish Abha Dawesar's That Summer in Paris which I had difficulty finishing since some two weeks ago. Thank you spring rain!!!:)

The rain today came at an odd hour, the ominous clouds started hovering over the skies above me in the late afternoon and as I predicted it gave way to heavy downpour making me dizzy and breathless.

I am not that fond of rain nor do I love to play in the rain unlike others who likes to go out in the rain. This again doesn’t mean that I hate rain. I love watching the rain, the droplets of water hitting the ground and on the CGI sheets especially means music to my ears, a rare treat in the early spring and a feast to my eyes.

I gave the rain a quizzical glance from the window of my room and tried to ask why at this hour? I had so many plans in my mind today; do some laundry, play tennis,go out for a walk and visit a friend. But darn this rain! 'It spoiled everything' I thought to myself and retired to bed with That Summer in Paris with a cup of steaming coffee, Gradually I was taken to Paris, the plot setting in the story, to New York and to India by Abha Dawesar. 

Prem, Pascal, Irene, Maya, Homi, Ratan, Deepika and of course the very renowned Eiffel Tower became a part of me for the next five hours or so. In between I took breaks to go to the loo or to refill my coffee mug, apart from that I was deeply immersed in the seven lives of these people whom I have never met before. In the end I also attended the funeral of Mr. Rustum(Prem) who dies at the age of eighty, Maya couldn’t bear the loss of Mr. Rustum though she was expecting it. She was alone and lonely and I tried giving her company.

All in all I was so tired moving to and fro from Paris to New York with them but the short vacation with the Rustum family in Paris was a refreshing one especially with Ratan darling, the cute grand nephew of Mr. Rustum.:)

I got to thank the rain today for the wonderful voyage, had you not poured today I would have still not finished That Summer in Paris and I would have missed the trip to Paris and New York though I have not been there literally eh! Thank you rain for the wonders you did unto me today. It’s an ethereal beauty as to how books are our greatest company for all times to come and there is no denying to this fact.

Erotic love, incest relationships, cancer, depression, noble prize effect, writer's block and the beauty of Paris, not to forget the title is what Abha Dawesar(a Harvard graduate) talks about in her book, That Summer in Paris.