Spotlight

Love Books! Books are Lovely! We Must Love Books! And now… Bookish love! Where is this stream of ideas about love and books being birthed? And how do these ideas flow into dominant talk? Who dare says, “Bookish love - huh?! Humbug!” And who is brave enough to cast this stone as naysayers? What has bookish love done for humanity and what has bookish love or love for books or any combination of the words ‘love and books’ done for those who do not read and declare that they do not like the act of reading? Where is the space for those of us who struggle with the written word in languages we barely understand?  For those of us who have never seen anyone with their heads buried in a book, unless within the classroom and closely watched? Can any of us raise our heads and hands and say, 'we con...

जब मैं अपनी पिछली जिन्दगी में झाँकता हुँ (वैसे अभी ज्यादा गुजरी नही हैं) तो मुझे लगता हैं कि मैरे अकेलेपन के दिनों में कोई मेरा सच्चा साथी रहा हैं तो वो हैं किताबें। शुरू से ही किताबें खरीदने और पढ़ने का शौक काफी रहा। किताबें और खुद के बनाए हुए नोट्स संभालकर रखने की लगन इतनी प्रगाढ थी कि परिक्षा समाप्त होने के बाद जब हिसाब लगाते थे तो पता चलता था कि एक बोरा भरकर किताबें और रजिस्टर जमा हो गए हैं। कच्चा घर होने के कारण ज्यादा किताबें तो संभालकर नही रख पाया परन्तु फिर भी लगभग काफी किताबें सुरक्षित मिल जायेगी। सरकारी विद्यालय में पढ़ने के कारण हमें किताबें निःषुल्क मिल जाया करती थी या घर वाले किसी रिष्तेदार भाई-बहिन (जो मुझसे एक कक्षा आगे जा चुके थे) की दिलवा देते थे। मुझे पहली किताब कक्षा छः के दौरान खरीदने का मौका मिला, वो भी घर वालो से काफी जिद करके तथा पाँचवी में अच्छे प्रतिषत अंक प्राप्त ह...

Two books roused desire in me while I was in school, an adolescent. These books were Jean Webster’s novel, ‘Daddy-Long-Legs’, and Danielle Steel’s novel, ‘Wings’. Desire, while in school, was a mushy thing that seemed to melt inside my being or break out of a fist-sized, fist-shaped cage and flow out freely, leaving an elation in its wake. I was in school in the 1990s. Years later, in mid-2000s, when I saw on TV the advertisement of the chocolate lava cake of Domino’s Pizza – thick, lava-like, deep brown chocolate flowing out of a crusty, baked object – I felt that that desire that I felt in school was the same like this viscous, lava-like chocolate. With each book, with each kind of desire I felt, each layer of that cake crumbled. Both the books I mentioned are different from one another...

A line from a poem A line From a poem Came to me in dream In two versions: Almost like a legal document I did not know if It was a verb Or a mood I had to change Or perhaps, A whole person Broken up, fragmented In need of flight and Root, At the same time. A branch breaking off in perfect Calm To travel a safe distance Before disappearing From the bound of memory Forever.   A philosopher meets his match I never asked For the moon But she Arrived at my door One stolen evening Just like a summer storm Drenched and asking To be in Carrying the past as if It was only yesterday A baby in her arms Hers. My door is always open, I say, Come in. The past is a forgotten - extinct - species. At that time, I was wrapped in...

Stories sometimes seem like living creatures. The strong ones evolve, flit from one form to another and back again. They pass through languages, forms, format, are not tied to any one medium. There are stories that transcend boundaries and forge connections, sometimes because of the story’s power, sometimes because of the underlying structures that give them power. Take Lewis Caroll's instant classic, 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'. Steeped in symbolism, riddles, nonsense songs and dream logic, the book has haunted and delighted readers since 1865. But- this is the important part- even if you haven't read the book but are reading this, its surreal quality, vivid colours and young protagonist possibly inhabit some part of your consciousness. Translations, adaptations, abridged versions...