Rinanoobandh 2

Keeping my promise to share another incident on being 'rinanoobandh'.

This time it was a full-grown bull, the kind you see dragging loaded carts on roads.

It was a pleasant evening after a very hot day and I was taking my usual after dinner stroll in the sprawling balcony of my rented apartment. That's when I saw him walking towards a vacant plot next to my house. He came and sat down with a thud and later lay down with exhaustion. My first instinct was that he must be hungry. I ran into the kitchen to fetch leftover bread and rotis and ran straight to feed him
. 
Mind you, in normal circumstances I am very wary of stray cattle and try to stay away from their way as much as possible. But situations change our reactions to the same thing or person. 

Anyway, I ran to him with the rotis and tried to feed him but he simply turned his face away and lay down again. Suddenly, it struck me that he might be thirsty and not hungry at all. I caught hold of a small plastic bucket, considering a small bowl won't be enough for him, and big bucket would be difficult for me to carry from the first floor. I got the filled bucket to him and with great effort, he picked himself up to put his muzzle in the water. Once he put his mouth in, he didn't take it out before finishing every drop of water. I must have fetched around three to four buckets till his thirst was quenched. Then, I fed him the rotis and he had them happily.

I cried that night, considering the plight of the hundreds of stray cattle we see on the roads. Now I realise why they don't move even after consistent honking. They just can't. De-hydration won't leave them with any energy. However, am not totally hopeless as I know that there are many people who do care for their fellow-beings.  

Anyone reading this post, please remember to save water and keep some for the fellow-beings you're sharing this earth with. If nothing else, keep a little bowl of water for the thirsty birds, flying above your houses in the terrible summer heat. 

A friend in need

He was a regular visitor. And whenever he came I was ready to greet him and offer refreshments. What I got in return was a nod of approval and eyes filled with love and innocence, memories of which are stuck with me.

He was a calf who had taken a liking to me and came everyday to my gate to say hello and get a treat in return.

But that morning when he came at his usual time, right before my time to leave for work. He was hurt, was bleeding. Those beautiful eyes were filled with pain. I can never forget the sight.

He had a big wound just above his nose, filled with maggots. The sight of him was dizzying. I knew something had to be done. I immediately called a dear friend a fellow animal-lover and we got on to getting him medical attention as soon as possible. But as luck may have it, the very person we contacted was out of town but dedicated enough to pass us instructions and names of required medicines. There we were on our way to the chemist, but not before informing our workplace that we were stuck with some important family matter.

While we were away buying medicines, we didn't even know if he'll be there when we return. But there he was waiting as he knew that we will come for him. Trying different tricks and manoeuvers we finally fed him the medicines and successfully sprayed an ointment on the affected area not before informing the local PFA (People for animals) office to look out for him. Leaving him in a much better state, we left for work, though reluctantly.

Next morning, and for many more mornings he came at his usual time and I religiously sprayed the ointment while my dad fed him. But after that he just disappeared, never to be seen again. I kept waiting for days hoping to see him completely healed, except one odd day while driving to the market I spotted him or a lookalike looking perfectly alright. I heaved a sigh of relief.

I wonder if I had some past-life connection with him or had to repay him back for something. He did come to me for a reason.

I'll always remember you fondly, dear friend!

Date a girl who reads

“You should date a girl who reads"

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”

― Rosemarie Urquico

P.S. I came across this beautiful piece of writing and thought I must share it with my friends, most of whom are either voracious readers or excellent writers, or both. So, all the single and ready to mingle ladies, don't put down that book girl! And guys, watch out for that book-wielding girl you thought was a bore :)

A tale of a book lover

Someone has rightly said," read the book before the director takes it to slaughter." I have always believed in this adage and in reading the book first than watching a movie based on it.

That doesn't put a question mark on the film director's ability, its just a simple preference.

While reading a book you can use your imagination to the fullest. You become the director of your own film. You imagine the colours, the faces, the scenery. Like whenever I remember 'Gone with the wind' its not the scenes from the movie but my own imagination that comes to mind. You can smell the gardens and aromas of the kitchen described in the book. 

Whenever I think of Jhumpa Lahiri's novels I can smell the aromas of bengali curries. In many well-written books you find yourself so immersed in the characters that you can feel their emotions surging through you. There have been several books which have done that to me but foremost on my mind are 'The thousand splendid suns' by Khaled Hosseini, 'Roots by Alex Hailey and now my current reading 'The thorn birds'. They moved me in an inexplicable way.

Books force us to imagine, to construct and plot and produce a narrative. When you read, you have more time to think. Only reading gives you the liberty to push a unique pause button for better comprehension and insight.

Films have their own USP but in context of books turned into films, one should not forget that it is that one person i.e. the director who's imagination you are watching. It cannot match yours. That is the real beauty of books. Your own world, your perspective. Probably that is the reason books are rightly called a 'Brain Workout' and of course not to forget, your 'best friend.'

I remember reading 'Devil wears Prada' years ago while I had just freshly quit being a fashion journalist. It struck a cord with me. I imagined myself in those situations and I cried. It reflected my own life in a certain way and also helped me get a better perspective of things. Watching the movie was just a passing experience, not withstanding the fact that both Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway were brilliant in it.

Another extraordinary example is of Ayn Rand books. As a true fan, you can NEVER imagine the masterpiece 'The Fountainhead' turned into a movie or for that matter any of her books. I would never watch it. I don't want to be robbed off my unique relationship with the book and its characters. I have my own version of Howard Roark clearly etched in my imagination. No one can replace it.

It doesn't happen with all books, you only develop this relationship with certain books. Like I recently read 'The immortals of Meluha,' interesting but I would certainly not be possessive about it. It wont pain me to watch a film based on it.

My initiation to the amazing world of books was by my mother. I have not stopped since. I distinctly remember when I didn't even know how to read I would just keep flipping through books or re-drawing the sketches and pretending to read. One book that stands out in my memory is the famous Russian Fairytales, a staple of every book-loving family. My memories of 'Vasilisa the beautiful' or 'Ivan the wise' or little 'Masha' or the revolving hut of 'Baba Yaga'. They are an integral part of my childhood memories to the extent that I plan to name my children on these characters!

I can go on and on about books and I promise I'll come back with more.

Read books. If you don't already. The real ones not on Kindle! I am kind of a traditionalist when it comes to certain things. Encourage your kids to read, trust me they'll thank you all their lives.
Watch movies, they are a great source of entertainment and knowledge but also give books a chance. You never know it might culminate into a life-long love affair!

P.S. Read this interesting article in the Time magazine for a professional and detailed view.