i should go..

journey home photo

Its time
the reasons have wilted
wherefore i wait?
i should go,,,for
the sun that would rise tommorow
holds no gleam of hope
nor paths of gold
only bare desolate road
marked by his receding
footprints,,going far away
sure prints,in no doubt.
wherefore i wait?
i should go
there is no return
no matter how much i wait
there is no hello again
let me move
if only i could
but,,i should go

Are we Dying?

eggAre we dying?

its been so long since

we loved…so very long since

we meant.

Are we dying? the tug of wars

winning. odds  against us.

Have we lost ourselves?

I’m not in love anymore

I’m just holding on

holding to words of ur‘s

that are ringing hollow in my ears.

I built dreams in respite

I watch them break in your eyes

There is no pain, You can’t hurt

anyone, You just play.

You are not in love anymore

Holding dead words, you just walk along

Expecting me to follow, never turning back

Once to make sure.

You are no Orpheus, nor there is a Pluto awaiting me

Beneath . You could have just called.

You list your fears, you seldom talk

But they are here

Clogging between us like thick smoke

I can’t see you, you for sure is not there

and yet I grope. I list my fears

I let you know, You laugh..thats all you can.

Perhaps, I don’t care anymore. I’m just holding on, until

I could let go. I’m sure you are walking away. I see

Your retreating form. and I feel nothing

But the calm before dying.

Driving lessons

In the pretext of learning to drive, we have had a few interesting trips. My cousin had come down to teach us how to handle a brand new car and so I& my brother always hopped in enthusiastically to be driven around. I had just got my license and my brother goes for the test in a few weeks, so these classes were real serious study. And when learning to drive began burning my dad’s pockets, he put a stake on where we could take our classes. It was to be that old bypass road through which seldom people passed. So, its safe and the road is not meant for speed and thus we got stuck on that 100 ft bypass road which was also boringly straight.

We drove to and fro in a speed not exceeding 40km/hr. I took the steering first and then towards dusk my brother had his chance. I took the back seat and took to watching life around. There was a bunch of kids playing cricket in the near by ground .Our road sliced through a residential colony, so we could see women gathered about in small groups chatting outside their houses. There were a few sellers wandering about selling fruits and carpets. The carpet sellers seemed not to be from around here, they were northerners wandering about. And so around 5;30 we went home to have tea and by 6 we were on road again. My cousin was giving us a talk on gears and somewhere in between I got lost in scenes outside. The kids had retired to their homes for evening prayers and studies. The women seemed to have gone and there remained one or two carpet sellers. The sun has gone too and the lane was getting dark with just one streetlight working. It felt eerie. It felt surreal.

carpetThe outsides whisked pass in paleness. There was not enough light to see around. However 2 carpet sellers watched and waited for us. On closer look I realized they were kids, boys of age around 15-18.They looked at us expectantly rooted at one spot of the road. I wondered if they could see inside through the tainted glass of the car. But strangely they were standing on the side, silent and not trying to sell. But they were expecting us to stop the car and go to them to get the carpet. I voiced out my confusion aloud when my cousin asked me to ignore them. I felt strange that they were not trying to sell their carpets by calling onto us but just stood there expecting us to go to them. And yet they looked desperate in some strange way.

I was the only one noticing them. My brother caught my puzzled look and reassured me with a no problem look. I couldn’t contain my curiosity. Every time the car passed by I would take a look at the 2 disheveled and tired-looking kids. They had the same passive desperate look about them. My brother was getting tired and so we decided to take three more rounds and call it a day. In the car we made plans to dine out that night. When we passed them again, I too ignored them. I was busy planning. Busy chatting and responding to the last minute question rounds, it took about a minute to realize that there was only one boy. And I looked back to check if they had given up and decided to go back home. I couldn’t see anything and I casually told the front-seaters that it seemed the kids have realized that we don’t use carpets on these sides coz of the climate. But should they have waited for 2 hours to know this! And then I saw them, one had gone no where. But the other one was walking towards a car, parked a few feet away. After a second, he hopped into it and I felt a strange kind of weight in my chest. We were speeding away from them and the car whisked past us. I felt a mute horror inside me as the implications became clear. And when we were completing our last part of the round, I saw the boy there, waiting desperate and alone for anyone’s picking. For a bunch of money that could aide his and his family’s existence. I couldn’t bear to look at his face coz I knew I will carry it inside me for the rest of my life…..

together forever!


its strange how we met
on the crowded pavement
of a lonely life,,on my way
to no where…..
can’t say we spotted
eachother,can’t say it was all
in just a glance
out of the many hands that
brushed past mine
your’s held for no reason..
a single finger hugged mine
it got entangled out of mistake
&yet it took time to release
the swift circle round mine.

there we stuck,won’t say its fate
destiny had no part,
the crowd stopped,so we had to.
caught a glimpse of you then
at that moment of repose.
there you have it all,how it
began,you just happened to be there
beside me for no reasons at all.
i could have taken the roads otherwise
but,i thought the crowds would be nice
there i met you,when i stopped in regret
now that the beings are moving
lets move ahead too.
with just those tiny fingers brushing mine
never holding&yet never letting go
lets stay so together forever
until time lets us go!

i know you


i know u
amidst the ruins of ancient cities
amidst the scattered bodies of warriors
in between the pangs of passion
through the fears of life
i have known u all along
like a shadow that moves away
u were there all along
and yet, i don’t know u enough
never enough to not let u go.
now i don’t grope, i don’t reach out
for the past holds no water
i closed my palm
& u flowed out through the cracks
i never realized
perhaps, u knew me
knew me enough to leave me

The female body

sareewomanThe Female body continues to be an obsession .Woman is almost always associated with her body and most often in a derogatory way. Her body is also an epitome of beauty and carnal love, but she is also victimized for the same. Can’t a woman transcend her body without negating her sex?

She is always under scrutiny and her security has become a serious issue. It is strange that she is victimized for what nature has bestowed upon her. She is safe no where, in public places, or at homes… day or night. Women have become very much conscious of their bodies due to all these. Have our body become a curse for ourselves? Can’t we go beyond ourselves where we no longer take up the body as the first representation of our identity?Should the term ‘woman’ be taken up only for its biological implications and connotations?

Our times are diabolical. It is advanced as well as retarded. When a female is abused, most often it is she who bears the brunt. There is no crime like molestation where even if legally the accused is punished; socially it is the victim who gets punished. And it is this social abandonment that leaves many of them mute about their sufferings.

A girl child growing up is made conscious of her body from the beginning of her formulating years. She is seldom told that she is to be proud of her body and it is sacred. But what she is indeed advised about is how she must hide her body, how she must be careful about it because the society is always observing. Shouldn’t she be proud of her body too? After all, isn’t it great to be a woman?The French feminists like Cixous saw a woman’s body as a world in itself.There is a world inside every woman. She is a complex creature and her body is an expresesion of herself.But she is almost always hunted down for her body by the society.Its as if ,you bear a scarlet for your body.

Perhaps, we ourselves have commercialized our bodies to such an extend where we become nothing more but our bodies. If a semi nude woman could sell bikes, razors, televisions, as we see in some advertisements, then it would be right to say that the market has commercialized the female body to preposterous levels.

But ,whatever…there are moments of joy being a woman.There are blessings like child birth that only our body could give us. So,our body is as much a blessing as it is a curse. And like Cixous said our body is a world in itself, but we are much more than that.


lollipoplollipop in the rainwet &

slithering down the lane

thrown out in haste

like life itself…

lingering still in someone’s tongue

that forlorn taste of living

just enough to remember

once in a while the flavour

of feeling

wet &sticky

oozing out slowly

a lollipop out of many

sticking out to the rains.

thats what we  all are

mere lollipos of different colours

myraids of flavours

but all melting

all on our way to be messy

yet for sometime

we hold such sweetness

such damp wetness

for a moment in life

we are all appetizing

juz for a few moments

before the final meltdowns!


dogDog therapy is a mode of treatment that has been continuing in the west for  quite sometime.It is highly popular and almost always a success.Dog therapy is based on friendly and intelligent dogs being used as aid for life and treatment.These dogs are specially trained to take care of a person and adapt to their needs and surroundings.

However,I realized that sometimes a dog just had to be himself to be therapeutic.My dad had high blood pressure.He ws constantly checking out his BP and taking pills.And when we decided to get ourselves a dog,we just wanted a house pet.So,that’s how we got our black Labrador retriever, Paachu.He gelled in with dad from day one.There is something soothing in his presence and the entire house started to feel it.Consequently,dad’s visit to the doc became quiet a few.We didn’t notice it until one day,when we saw our doc and he told us that he  seldom saw dad these days.

Upon telling this to dad,he also affirmed that our house pet was doing something more than what we expected him to do.Dad felt completely happy and at peace when he is working in the garden with Paachu trotting about.He is almost always with dad,so much so that once when we were all inside watching tv and dad was outside doing some gardening..Paachu started barking loudly.He was close to our front door but running to & fro.

We were busy watching the sunday movie upstaires that we didnt realize that his incessent barks could mean anything.After a few minutes I went to the balcony to check out.I saw dad stooped and Paachu circling him barking.I couldn’t see anything unusual and so I just asked dad aloud if he was alright.I got Paachu’s angry and desperate barks for answer.I thought dad might have replied but I couldn’t have heard it because of our dog’s barking and moeover dad was facing the other way.And thats when Paachu did something strange, he licked at dad’s face and started pushing at his shoulder with his head.I was curious and so I went out to check, and thats when I realized dad was in so much pain because his disc seemed to have slipped a bit while he was plucking weeds. So I called my brother immediately and we took him to the doc. My dad was in bed for 3 days and our doc was ofcourse happy to see my dad back.And when we got back,someone ws waiting eagerly at the gate, all anxious. Paachu stayed by dad and till now he does that. He looks after us all with his mischieves and innocence. He sucks out all our worries and leaves us smiling for the few moments that we spend with him..these moments run into hours..naturally 🙂


shakespeareMy teacher is  in love with Shakespeare..actually she is crazy about that guy.She loved liteature through him and defined literature begining with him.And why wouldn’t she…. anyone who has gone through his tragedies or comedies or sonnets can understand that the man is beyond his times and beyond layman-creativity.Well, its been quite  few centuries,and still our sylabus can’t evict him.

When,we began MACBETH, our ma’m said something that kind of set the wheels in motion for us towards a better understanding of Shakespeare’s complex tragic heroes.Well,she said..humans could be divided into four categories-MACBETH, HAMLET, KING LEAR and OTHELLO.How??? Well we need to look into the tragic flaw of each of these characters, the one flaw in their otherwise perfect character for which the price they have to pay is almost always their life.

MACBETH-a chivalrous general-loving husband-devoted statesman-but…OVER AMBITIOUS

HAMLET-prince, a scholar and philosophe, a skilled fighter…and the problem of HAMLET  is still on the discussion tables as more and more interpretations are being born to precisely state what made him do what he did/didn’t.But lets take the most accepted view..PROCRASTINATION

OTHELLO-Moor, loving husband.. GULLIBILITY

KING LEAR-King, loving father…OVERT PRIDE

Now, can’t we classify people according to Shakespeare? Ambition, Pride, Procrastination and Gullibility…four traits that every human will have but in varying degrees. .. a general classification on the basis of these four basic traits can give us  broad divisions of humanity .

A person who is  ambitious so much so that he/she wont hesitate in doing anything to get their means would come under MACBETH. A person who is more on the philosophical side and spent too much time in thoughts, hesitating to act will come under HAMLET.Someone who falls an easy victim to other’s words and is blown around almost always by others would come under OTHELLO.And an overtly proud person would be KING LEAR’S category and pride goes before a fall.I’m not talking about a clear cut division.Traits will overlap, but essentially on the surface level we can find resemblances.

This is not a deep psychological stuff,it is a simple classification from an admirer of Shakespeare who thought his works to cover the whole of humanity.And the truth is ,his does!So with whom do you belong???

Measuring Beauty

dolphiWhat measures beauty?Had Keats and Shakespeare used the same scale?Perhaps the Trojans would know,for,they gave refuge to the face that burned a thousand ships  and later even themselves. The world has always been obsessed with the female body and its beauty. One just has to look into the literatures of the past.So,what do they call beauty?

Since,today we hear a lot of parameters doing the rounds,and diseases like anorexia emerging,I wonder whether there remains anything beautiful about beauty.As a race,we Indians have always been obsessed with pale white skin.Toni Morrison,an eminent African novelist has  written about this predicament of the black women where she is no longer considered beautiful since she is neither fair nor blond.

One just needs to check out the advertisements that pop-up on our televisions every other second.The message of self-esteem rhyming with fairness is preposterous,but what is even more unbelievable is that there are takers for it.As Indians,our skin colour is bound to be earthy, that of the mud.But the global beauty market is strewn with fairness creams and whitening stuff and they want us to adopt their standards.We have obliged beautifully.The question now is what is beauty? Has it become a commercial paradigm?It is definite, that we have lost those times when beauty was  much more than skin deep.Where the likes of Keats,Shakespeare ,Byron had derived their poetic inspiration.Now beauty has become more or less a separatist code.It separates those who are not,from those who are.

Another,more far-reaching effect is the demand for slim bodies.The market is strewn with pills and treatments.The past always saw women  full-bodied,as that rhymed with beauty and prosperity.Now the market demands slim women.And women are in a frenzy to alter themselves,to make themselves something else. A girl growing up is made instantly aware of these standards and right from her formulating years,she is striving hard for this acceptance.We have an entire generation of females who are in trouble. Their body , their self-esteem,their future and even their health is determined by the global market.What anarchism prevails in our times!

Is there any facet of life where these sort of influences are not prevalent? Take religion for example.All our Gods and Goddesses are fair.Even ‘shyamavarna’ Krishna is fair,if not painted blue.

Hence,where are we going?Are we taking beauty more seriously than we should and commercialising it against our own selves?


I lost a friend today. I didn’t know he was that important until I lost him. His death is confusing & the very coldness of it is bewildering. He was a  nobody. Not a human at the least. He was a street dog. Someone whom no body wanted. I used to meet him during work, lazing through the corridors as if the entire building is in his keeping. But quick to retreat when some intolerant homosapien passed by.

lostdog01I took to liking him& even named him kunjuttan(little boy) and he was little. I don’t know if anyone looked after him or if he belonged to someone, but I saw him clean &well-fed most of the time. The very absence of a collar is what designated him a stray, but he was too well-mannered to qualify as one. However he became a friend fast. Would walk around with me& follow me a bit. His welcoming wagging had always made me smile no matter how rough a day had begun. And he was a delight to have around. My regret is I never knew all these until today .He was killed by a stray dog-catcher. What a grotesque end for such a lovely being! He was not rabid. He seldom mingled with other dogs. He was always gentle& well mannered. Then why? He was so little that he was afraid of other dogs& always came back running to me if he saw any. It is unbelievable that they could have done this to him on the grounds that he is a stray& that he is a possible rabid carrier.

If my information is up-to-date, then there exists a ban on killing stray dogs. But it is all too late. I could have reacted if only I knew he was in danger. By what parameters do these men kill innocent animals? It is atrocious that they are in a zeal to have as many victims since they get paid by the number. There have been cases reported of house pets being killed by these heartless men. I will call them heartless and no amount of sentiments of livelihood is going to justify their mean activity. A dog has as much right as a human to live through its full life. But when as a specie we are bent on proving our superiority, it is such innocent lives that get trampled. It is sad that most of us won’t even understand such sentiments. But when we do I hope it won’t be too late. I wonder what qualifies a human as human! By today’s standard is it his heartlessness? When we can’t understand the plight of the helpless, aren’t we actually becoming the most inferior amidst the clan?

Filmic Adventure

We are a bunch of tomboys, we always were. Amidst all the do s’ and don’ts we grew up as  as tomboys…or to be more precise tom-girls. That day when we saw the movie ANANDABHADRAM directed by Santosh Sivan, we just hoped to have a good time. ANANDABHADRAM is a malayalam movie about ghosts, spirits and black magic.


The movie was awesome. I love colours and the screen always stayed colourful. There was nothing to be afraid of, until we went to the ancestral home of one of us. An old naalukettu (a huge house with courtyard). We were looking for adventures as we always did. The house was strewn with memories. And memories also hold dried tears and dark spirits. The stale smell of all those clung in the air. The house seemed deserted. And we liked it that way. With any elders in sight, rules & don’ts would be imperative.So we divided ourself into two groups&set about exploring the grand building. I was reminded of Arundhathi Roy’s History House. This huge building however, held more than history

My group, following a long corridor entered the first floor when we spotted the wooden staircase. There was something strange about it. It seemed to be mute, our footsteps were not audible and though we did not notice it then, we wish now that we had. The stairecase ended at a door. Just a beautiful wooden door with a bit of a crack. We were stuggling with the latch when we heard the door close downstaires. Some door, but somehow we realized that that door was our only exit. We weren’t afraid to go back&check. We just weighed our options, one door to open & that was to be this one.

And so we set about with unlatching a very old & worn out but beautiful wooden door. On both sides of the door there were wooden panes. We could hardly see through them when I spotted a movement through. I couldn’t fathom who or what it was. But, it sure wasn’t anyone of us & the house was supposed to be empty. And that did it, we screamed. And somewhere we heard a reply. Our other group too, it seemed had met with a similar fate. Stuck and frightened. Like any youngsters of today, we relied on our mobiles for directions, but the mobile companies seemed to have happened ages afterwards. Hence, for a few moments we were in the past. We remained so.. locked up with strange voices booming around us for  full  2 hours. Stranded on that rickety staircase, we were frightened to go up or down. It seemed like God was in one of His moods. Then when the rescue came, it was melodramatic..we were. The caretaker however was annoyed. It looked like he seldom took much care of the building. And so, following him we traced our way back. We were excited, and our adrenaline rush, forgotten, for the moment, we were busy discussing how to make our little adventure look cool to others, after all getting stranded in a ghost-house & then escaping (the same as rescued) is definitely chivalrous. Still, I’m not sure what happened, actually none of us are sure still how we lost our care-taker.

We were once again alone,this time all united.And then again, we saw that shadow, flying past us. That did it.We ran screaming&since we were sensible enough to have stuck together, we all got out together, like beans out of a ripe pod.And, we ran till the bust stop. However, once back in college, we weaved tales of chivalry. There ofcourse we rescued the caretaker too.

:) me,myself and my dog

I picked him up…the first of the litter – black, plump & soft…he trotted around our feet & then he was given to me..just to hold & feel. I still don’t know what made me say “dad..I want him”. Perhaps it was the warmth or that wink…yes, my puppy winked at me the moment I held him.Maybe it was God Himself who winked, coz later I don’t know what i would have done without my friend. So it seems we sealed a pact & hence I told dad I want him.

That first night has gone down my memory lane as the most restless one of all..at least it began like that.I was the baby-sitter & he  trotted about,every other hour sniffing & doing baby business all around my once pretty room. By the 5th or 100th time I had lost my patience&while he was sniffing at a particular corner of my room,ignoring my desperate calls to come back…I yelled. He turned around to face me,unafraid. Since then I could never intimidate him but he learnt how to melt my heart.

All he needed was that look…I can’t define it..dogwell…he gave me one anyway&came running to me&cuddled at my feet.I lost. I lost my heart..my sleep&the next morning,,this guy woke me up at 5.A day went in sogginess&then  &there i decided to shift him to our work-area. After all once he grows up he can’t be with me.& so relived,i made his bed.Put 2 warm bottles for him to cuddle&reluctantly he went to bed.Just as I was about to switch off the lights,he gave me that look.I was losing..but i held on desperately. Sleep remained distant, as if cursing me for being  cruel.

At last I lost & around 2, I went down. Opened the door & the little guy was all ready to be picked up.Even today,4 years hence, I wonder whether he was waiting for me..as if he knew I’ll come.He has grown so much now…but he can melt my heart with a look even today.He was my baby, & now he is my teacher & friend.

Today,it is me who needs the cuddling & he is never hesitant. There are so many things that i could learn from him.He is been here just for 4 years & its as if he has already learned what most of us take years to learn. He preaches unconditional love, patience, tolerance, fun and savouring life. And, now i realize why i picked him up…

Rhett and Heathcliff

It is rare for a girl to grow up without reading or hearing about GONE WITH THE WIND…ok I’m assuming too much.. ;)But the book has been so much a part of my life& my friends’ lives that it is actually impossible to comprehend our past &our girlish dreams without Rhett Butler taking a sure stroll through our minds.

GWWI remember my friend giving me the book at my 7th std while we were parting for our Christmas vacation .I remember tucking myself with the book everyday that every one in my household started complaining .Thats  what GONE WITH THE WIND does to you. I would say, Rhett just never let me go. And even today, I consider him as the most charming male protagonist ever created. But there is nothing charming about him though, just like there is none about Heathcliff of WUTHERING HEIGHTS. They are a set of heroes representing the wild diabolic side of nature. For them love is a passion that consumes their whole being so much so that they don’t hesitate to destroy themselves or others. And for girls nothing else is more fascinating:)

Perhaps romances like Mills&Boon picked up their male protagonists keeping in mind Rhett or Heathcliff.. .thats just a speculation  from my part.

If anyone has seen the movie YOU HV GOTTA MAIL starring Tom Hanks &Meg Ryan, there Hanks is seen telling Ryan how GODFATHER is the book of all books for life. Well GONE WITH THE WIND is such a book in terms of the issues of heart. It just tells you where to start &where to stop. Now coming to the characters, there is nothing feminine about Scarlett..she could very well be a man in character and she is neither conventionally beautiful. She knows what she wants and she knows how to get it too .If not for Asheley,it becomes hard to pick her weaknesses. She is without scruples &never is she apologetic or ashamed of that. In an age where women are fine specimens in laces and silks, all coy & innocent, here is Scarlett who rides the world in her own terms. It is without doubt that such a woman could only find her match in a man like Rhett, who is if not anything else her male counterpart. He understands& loves her for what she is. But both of them transcend themselves in moments of utter necessity, like, Rhett going for the war & Scarlett looking after Melanie and the kids.

There is a deep set similarity between Scarlett-Rhett and Catherine-Heathcliff. There is nothing conventional about them or their romance.It is an all- consuming affair which destroyed more than their lives. Catherine and Scarlett are presented as scheming selfish women, and they realize their loss only when they almost lose their love. The heroes are not men of honor in the ordinary sense, but they do possess an intense sense of self-esteem. There is a darkness that clings to both Rhett and Heathcliff that make them mysterious and fascinating.Perhaps Heathcliff is darker in character and his agony is of more intensity.His pain hits one hard when he is seen mourning Catherine’s death. His agony seeps into your heart through his gut-wrenching words .He sure has a pact with the devil, whereas Rhett courts the devil& humours it just like he humours  Scarlett.wuthering-heights

It is only natural that both the love stories end as tragedies. Even GONE WITH THE WIND, though  Scarlett’s optimism soothes the intensity. But the reader however feels less optimistic .Both the love stories hold such intensities that it is hard for it to be contained by reality. They have to die away or part ways.


While I was doing my post graduate thesis in Doris Lessing, I had a tough time finding my primary source which is THE GOLDEN NOTEBOOK. Now four years hence the book is available in every known& unknown bookshop. Lessing has had a long wait for the Nobel and perhaps no other writer deserved it more than her since she is the oldest person to have won a Nobel.

THE GOLDEN NOTEBOOK published in 1962 did not immediately gain wide readership until the 1970s when feminists embraced the novel for its realistic portrayal of the life of single women trying to raise their children outside the boundaries of tradition. Lessing’s ‘Free women’ concept, in alignment with most feminist beliefs, helped not only to redefine sexuality issues but also provided literary models of the now famous motto “the personal is political” that so many feminist critics have maintained. Since then, the academic world has recognized the postmodern themes, narrative and structure of the novel.

Lessing, having established herself as a writer interested in politics and recognized and self-defined as an author of realistic fiction, offers a different approach to novel writing in THE GOLDEN NOTEBOOK. The novel supports a postmodern view in characters, themes and structure. Not only the characters, but also the reader must question what is real and true- or more precisely, is there one reality and truth about any individual or event? Through Anna Wulf, the main character of the novel ,Lessing concludes that all human perceptions and recordings are imperfect and relative, and, any sense of order will eventually be replaced as new situations are encountered. Thus chaos is the order of the day.

The structure of the novel is quite innovative. This innovation is a result of the author’s compulsive desire to present experience in its fullness, examining and re-examining it from different points of view in an attempt to give unity to the fragmentariness of modern life. THE GOLDEN NOTEBOOK chronicles the life of Anna Wulf, a writer and a single woman who lives with her young daughter in a flat, occasionally renting out a room, less for the income than out of a reflex of social obligation. Labouring against a writing block following the success of her autobiographical debut novel about a group of Communists in colonial Africa, Anna struggles to find a way to integrate the multiple selves that fragment her personality and make her life unbearably painful.

goldenOut of fear of chaos, formlessness and of breakdown, she decides to keep four notebooks, one for each component of her life- black for her experiences in Africa; red for current politics; yellow for a fictionalized version of herself and blue for a diary. Although framed by a conventional novel called “Free Women” the point of the novel according to Lessing is in the relation of its parts to each other. By viewing her life from these different angles, going over her experiences, gauging her responses and carefully probing her intertwined layers of consciousness, Anna eventually manages to unify her identity in one notebook, the golden notebook. As she does so, she comes to terms with her growing disillusionment with Communism, the trauma of emotional rejection and sexual betrayal, professional anxieties and the tensions of friendships and family.

Lessing’s THE GOLDEN NOTEBOOK goes beyond the feminists perceptions and probes deep into the female .Through Anna Wulf ,Lessing addresses and  justifies the ongoing tug of war inside the female psyche. As women we are endowed with myriads of responsibilities and entities that go beyond our door steps, and Anna reaching that extreme of intolerance and disillusionment comes back to herself, victorious and very much at peace.

Book Review: Zorba & me


I dont believe in fate. Perhaps it is a mere word to fall back upon when there are no more excuses left.i belive in choices..choices that make or break our future.when there is no one reality,one truth,why should there be one path alone to live the right way?i took this lessons on life from Zorba..ZORBA THE GREEK by Nikos Kazantzakis.

Zorba is simple. Perhaps in life one of the hardest things that one can be is simple.However simplicity is not equivalent to “uncomplicatedness”.Well,Zorba is simple since he knows what he wants and what he doesn’t want.He is a rustic labourer who finds pleasure in drinking,dancing,singing and widows.His possessions include a santuri other than himself.He doesn’t belive in living the good life,,however he does live a good one.The narator meets him on his way to Crete and there in begins a friendship that is profound and yet simple :).The narator a scholar,on his way to study the ways of the Buddha ends up studying Zorba and his shortcuts.Shotcuts..Zorba took his own.Life is too short and too much of a joy to toil for salvation.Zorba lived lookin eye-to eye with God.God is a comrade..a mere friend who is also the Devil…two sides of the same coin.And only a man’s heart could contain God..that is one of Zorba’s wisdome.Zorba is an illiterate..he hates books.Life is the best teacher and we have to let life take over.But not to be tossed around like a dry leaf in the autumn wind..when life throws out a bend one must be ready to take it.

Zorba belives in freedom..he even chopped off his own fingure so that he could play the santuri..now thats a bit too much.But the point is,,if only he has any obsessions it is his music&is freedom.Rest..he overcomes by over-indulgence.

Faith is imperative for life,,and not religion.With faith,even a splinter of wood could represent God.Zorba has his anecdots..they are a joy to go through.And perhaps a pleasure to follow.His take on females however is not very flattering.But Zorba won’t make a feminist out of you too.

One must read Zorba in one’s teen or in one’s early life..there is so much of self-help gurus trotting the world..well here is one who doesn’t belive in words,in language,,he just belives in savouring life.