Hi :)
So. I've been tagged!
Yayayayayayayayay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D :D :D
Ahem. (clears throat)
Okay, never mind... Let the post begin:
As I was saying, I've been tagged, and as the title of this post is still saying, it's happened for the first time, which has charged me up with the kind of exuberance hitherto only been achieved by consuming vast quantities of sugar at one go.
Therefore, never.
Yay.
It was mea culpa who tagged me, and she wants me to list my three favourite books. So here goes.
1. The Thorn Birds, by Colleen McCullough:
A book I read ages ago, but which continues to haunt me. It's so very well written, that five years after reading it, I still remember scenes and characters from it. Every one should read it.
2. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, by JK Rowling:
Though I love the entire series, but the tag requires favourite books, not favourite series' of books, therefore I choose this one for Hogwarts. This one is special for so many reasons, not least because of the story- which was brilliant. Then there are the characters who are introduced- Sirius and Remus. Part three was pivotal, and decided many things about the future of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It was also the first Harry Potter book I read.
I could go on for hours, but I suspect you don't really care.
3. The Lord of the Rings, by JRR Tolkien:
I put this up due to the sheer effort involved in writing it, and because I have a volume which has all the three parts in it together, so it's actually just one book.
The book is not terribly easy to read, but it's what I call an epic. If you haven't read it, or if you've left it half way because you thought you were going to collapse under the sheer weight of it, one day you will realise the sacrilege you have committed, and weep. If it's because you thought you'd catch the movie instead, you should know that the book came first, and no matter how good the film, the book is way better.
There are many others that missed out on a mention... for example To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, etc. but after much thought and internal turmoil, I decided to put up these three.
I hereby tag:
Siddharth
Sam
Foxhound
There is also Jerry, but he's writing his school leaving exams somewhere in Colombo, so dude, this tag is for you only if you suddenly decide you need to choose between your papers and your blog, and in an Earth shattering moment of clarity side with the blog.
Much love.
Showing posts with label Books/ Reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books/ Reading. Show all posts
Thursday, 28 August 2008
Sunday, 3 August 2008
My Friendship Day Post
The thing with friendship is, once you've had a taste of it, you're addicted for life. The need to conform and identify is of course, clear and present in us humans ever since we find ourselves in any form of society. However, it is only once we have relished our first morsels of true companionship do we develop a yearning to belong.
Often, it may even happen that we ourselves have not experienced this, but we have seen others enjoy it, and have started craving it because it is so conspicuously absent from our lives.
This was me.
As a child, I generally found myself to be an outcast. I hadn't yet been a part of any true... fellowship of chumminess, and I found, even at that age, that other kids my age only allowed me to hang around due to whatever advantages my presence could afford them at that point. I don't really know why I was singled out for such treatment, but I do remember being extremely lonely- and trying to hide it from my parents.
At some point along the way, my mother did notice it, though, and that is the time she introduced me to books. "If you have a good book, you don't need anybody else", she said. I took to reading as fish to water, and for many, many years after that they were my only companions, and I was deliriously happy at finally having friends. I was the girl with the book. Always.
Some time later I fell in love with cricket. Once I get involved in something, I have a tendency to completely lose myself in it. This happened with both cricket and my books. These were the only two elements of my life that spared me from the gnawing isolation I felt otherwise.
After sixth grade I switched schools, and at my new school, I finally found acceptance. To be openly admired is a feeling the like of which I had never experienced before. It was emancipating. Years of being a bookworm had improved my level of English to such heights that I could easily correct my teachers (though I rarely did it), and at this different school they did not take offense to the fact that their student knew more than them about some things. I found out that I was talented at many studies, foremost amongst them art (as in drawing, sketching, etc.), and that said talents were appreciated.
It was here that I finally opened up and made friends. Sure, I was still deeply insecure about myself. Nor did I trust people to treat me with due respect, and so was always in a shell, but it was here that I found the people (or maybe they found me?) who now know me better than I know myself, and will not hesitate to yell at me for 'being dumb', or even take decisions for me to 'protect' me from said 'dumbness'.
It's been some time since I left school. I am now a second year student (Yay!!! :D), but I still have trouble with my self esteem at times. The thing is, I know that these spells would be a lot more chronic had I not chanced upon the various forms of support I did, at the times I did.
I don't know how to wish all my friends a 'Happy Friendship's Day', seeing as so many of them are characters in books... then there's my school, the art block in the school, the library, the amphitheater, the senior school ramp (the one close to the Bio Lab), or even a sport (random, yeah?). But to those of you who can read this, being (mostly) human, this post is dedicated to you:
Devika, Niki, Siddhu, Bhavyaa, Medha, Zoya, Arushi, Dhriti, Amrita Ma'am, Udayan.
I love you.
Often, it may even happen that we ourselves have not experienced this, but we have seen others enjoy it, and have started craving it because it is so conspicuously absent from our lives.
This was me.
As a child, I generally found myself to be an outcast. I hadn't yet been a part of any true... fellowship of chumminess, and I found, even at that age, that other kids my age only allowed me to hang around due to whatever advantages my presence could afford them at that point. I don't really know why I was singled out for such treatment, but I do remember being extremely lonely- and trying to hide it from my parents.
At some point along the way, my mother did notice it, though, and that is the time she introduced me to books. "If you have a good book, you don't need anybody else", she said. I took to reading as fish to water, and for many, many years after that they were my only companions, and I was deliriously happy at finally having friends. I was the girl with the book. Always.
Some time later I fell in love with cricket. Once I get involved in something, I have a tendency to completely lose myself in it. This happened with both cricket and my books. These were the only two elements of my life that spared me from the gnawing isolation I felt otherwise.
After sixth grade I switched schools, and at my new school, I finally found acceptance. To be openly admired is a feeling the like of which I had never experienced before. It was emancipating. Years of being a bookworm had improved my level of English to such heights that I could easily correct my teachers (though I rarely did it), and at this different school they did not take offense to the fact that their student knew more than them about some things. I found out that I was talented at many studies, foremost amongst them art (as in drawing, sketching, etc.), and that said talents were appreciated.
It was here that I finally opened up and made friends. Sure, I was still deeply insecure about myself. Nor did I trust people to treat me with due respect, and so was always in a shell, but it was here that I found the people (or maybe they found me?) who now know me better than I know myself, and will not hesitate to yell at me for 'being dumb', or even take decisions for me to 'protect' me from said 'dumbness'.
It's been some time since I left school. I am now a second year student (Yay!!! :D), but I still have trouble with my self esteem at times. The thing is, I know that these spells would be a lot more chronic had I not chanced upon the various forms of support I did, at the times I did.
I don't know how to wish all my friends a 'Happy Friendship's Day', seeing as so many of them are characters in books... then there's my school, the art block in the school, the library, the amphitheater, the senior school ramp (the one close to the Bio Lab), or even a sport (random, yeah?). But to those of you who can read this, being (mostly) human, this post is dedicated to you:
Devika, Niki, Siddhu, Bhavyaa, Medha, Zoya, Arushi, Dhriti, Amrita Ma'am, Udayan.
I love you.
Thursday, 20 September 2007
Flushed
I love colours. It’s a fact. All in all, they’re generally the single largest factor affecting most decisions I take in life.
I don’t know when I woke up to these wonderful pigments, or feelings, or whatever they are, but I think my definition of hell would be a life without colour.
Point in case is, I don’t even know how to define them. I just know how they make me feel- like drinking air, or walking on clouds, or maybe just becoming a cloud bouncing along somewhere up there. I think they’re the miracles of nature most people are too busy to notice.
And Bilbo, with all his travels, adventures and experience wasn’t wrong either. For too many people in this world colours are just red, white, blue, yellow, black, etc. At most they can graduate to dark and light green, blue and brown.
Have you ever noticed sparkling gray eyes like Anne’s in the classics by L. M. Montgomery? They make me think of stars… And yet, gray is a colour most often used to describe any bleak aspect.
How can the same colour be associated with two such opposing views?
Fire- no painter or photographer can ever capture its true beauty. Is it yellow and orange, or orange and red, or an amalgamation of all these colours forming something the human mind can’t ever hope to grasp?
Oh, by the way, when fire grows very hot it’s blue in colour…
A new born leaf is reddish- green, as it matures, it goes from being mostly- green to properly- green to finally becoming gold as it falls from its tree.
The azure of a clear spring morning changes to the velvety indigo of midnight, and two flowers on the same rose bush will always be a different shade of pink.
No poet will EVER be able to colour the sea- for which bit shall she do?
The shimmering haze of sunlight on the water, the clear blue of the shallow seas on white sand, the magical blue- green of the open waters, the sunset reflected on it in the evenings or it’s inky blackness at night?
For just 1 day on your high- definition flatrons try and notice the black and yellow blur of a cheetah chasing prey, enjoy the blue of a calm river turn suddenly to frothy white as it bashes up rocks, or just watch a butterfly do its thing…
I promise you, you’ll also start noticing all the different greens.
I don’t know when I woke up to these wonderful pigments, or feelings, or whatever they are, but I think my definition of hell would be a life without colour.
Point in case is, I don’t even know how to define them. I just know how they make me feel- like drinking air, or walking on clouds, or maybe just becoming a cloud bouncing along somewhere up there. I think they’re the miracles of nature most people are too busy to notice.
“For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green”
- Bilbo Baggins
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green”
- Bilbo Baggins
And Bilbo, with all his travels, adventures and experience wasn’t wrong either. For too many people in this world colours are just red, white, blue, yellow, black, etc. At most they can graduate to dark and light green, blue and brown.
Have you ever noticed sparkling gray eyes like Anne’s in the classics by L. M. Montgomery? They make me think of stars… And yet, gray is a colour most often used to describe any bleak aspect.
How can the same colour be associated with two such opposing views?
Fire- no painter or photographer can ever capture its true beauty. Is it yellow and orange, or orange and red, or an amalgamation of all these colours forming something the human mind can’t ever hope to grasp?
Oh, by the way, when fire grows very hot it’s blue in colour…
A new born leaf is reddish- green, as it matures, it goes from being mostly- green to properly- green to finally becoming gold as it falls from its tree.
The azure of a clear spring morning changes to the velvety indigo of midnight, and two flowers on the same rose bush will always be a different shade of pink.
No poet will EVER be able to colour the sea- for which bit shall she do?
The shimmering haze of sunlight on the water, the clear blue of the shallow seas on white sand, the magical blue- green of the open waters, the sunset reflected on it in the evenings or it’s inky blackness at night?
For just 1 day on your high- definition flatrons try and notice the black and yellow blur of a cheetah chasing prey, enjoy the blue of a calm river turn suddenly to frothy white as it bashes up rocks, or just watch a butterfly do its thing…
I promise you, you’ll also start noticing all the different greens.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)