When Breath Becomes Air-A book review

 I had finally read this book  after a wanting to do so for a really  long time. After a huge hiatus of not reading (!!!) for around 3-4 years, i  finally, after a new year resolution, brought back my reading habit into action last year. This book took a prestige place in my reading list for this year.

It is a very thought provoking autobiography. The author is Paul Kalanithi, a neurosurgeon in residency who sadly dies after succumbing to metastatic lung cancer at age of 37.The book has additions from his friend and his wife as well. This is a life story from  childhood to his death. The picture develops of an young, ambitious, brilliant mind  who throughout his life and career seeks to find answers to questions of identity, life and death. He narrates his experiences as a doctor through its layers of professional, medical and ethical dilemmas. Never does he shy away from voicing the truth or self criticism. At the end, he confronts death in the most honest and graceful manner. The decisions he takes as a husband and doctor is nothing short of absolute grit and fills you with a deep sense of admiration. He writes this book in the last few months of his life and is testament to his resolve in "living until death".

He is an eloquent writer and there is a real expectation to think between the lines. He weaves philosophy into the day to day human life. In short, he creates an undercurrent of value and meaning to the simple things we do in life.

Personally, the questions and answers the book presents demands you to think and rethink one's actions and thoughts. More so as a doctor, it invites to pause and consider our attitudes towards patients and to consider how intricate and sensitive these relationships actually are!. At the end of the day, I truly believe, his words and actions ,if one is willing, can make you a better person.

The book is definitely for a read especially for healthcare professionals and those who aspire to be one. The time that you spent will be worth as you feel a great sense of pride for knowing a fellow human being as wonderful and remarkable as he was.

Imprisoned

Words or knives, the decision too eloquent

Behold the former as nothing too subtle but powerful

 Brimming yet  aloof  akin the glances of a lover ,silent.

A gaziilion thoughts,

A pandemonium of emotions,

A treasure chest of experience,

Screaming, raging and imploding,

To break free and to flight,

 Alas, chains Imprisoned!

Links of doubt,

Links of imperfection,

Links of rejection,

Bind thee, thou and them forever.

Need a nod, Need a pat, Need a helping hand,

For words to flow and leave footprints on sand.

For generations to  Lead and Inspire.

Words or knives, decision eloquent

Befriend the former and from here the tomorrow is born.

A book review-A thousand splendid suns.

 A Thousand Splendid Suns

This is my second read of the year. "A thousand splendid suns" is a beautiful book that is an amalgamation of genres from across the spectrum. It has friendship, love, tragedy, comedy, suspense, strife, cruelty and satire .It relates the life of 2 women and how their friendship and love for each other triumphs over their fears. They are 2 different people in nature, childhood, background, but bond together to live a life and death. Yet both possess a determination and strength of character that surfaces though their tolerance to suffering and revolt. At the end of it all, one feels deep sense of empathy and admiration for them.

The story is set on the background of a war stricken Afghanistan as one regime over another crushes a great nation to an abyss of poverty, destruction and the subjugation of people especially its women. Many of the events in this book, in all probability, is something we have heard of or read about in the comforts and protection of our homes. As the Journey unfolds, it makes you laugh, cry and seethe with anger. The author makes no judgment calls about how women are treated under the mirage of traditions and beliefs but his opinion  is sublime and is hidden behind the satire weaved into the lines.

It's a wonder, almost unbelievable that these women who do nothing but care, love and protect their people get the most cruel treatment in forms of oppression, beatings and ostracisation. This is the grand irony that i felt and troubles me even after i shut the book since a week ago.

The book in its prose and presentation is not as eloquent as "The Kite runner", Mr Hosseini's first book but somehow, the characters in this book are  so real that i am raptured to say the least. 

Book Review: Ntuppuppakkoranendarnnu(my grandfather had an elephant)

 This is a story  of a young girl who hails from a Muslim community in North Kerala. The author, Vaikom Basheer, weaves an honest, simple tale of this innocent femme from the time she was a child to her womanhood. The language is simple  and is in Malayalam. It is written in first person and is in the voices of a little girl and then a woman yet there is this underlying flavour of a unique personality which is obvious as the story unfolds. The local dialect is evident right from the title to the end of the book and adds to the  whole feel of the tale. The writing is an absolute beauty in its ability to convey emotions, situations and actions that tugs at your heartstrings from page to page. Apart from it story line, the author dwells into the core thoughts, practices and lifestyle of the community ,never taking sides but yet provokes your mind ever so subtly. If anybody is wondering why there is a mention of an elephant in the title, i would encourage you to read the book to find out because saying it aloud now would damage the experience. 

Personally, this book is a feather in my cap. I have always secretly felt embarassed that i have never read a book in my native language which is Malayalam (outside school books of course) and  therefore completing this book has been redemption.

Anyone who would like to treat yourself to a Malayalam book, i would recommend this one.

Cheers!!

Book Review-A Short history of nearly everything!!

 

That's exactly what the book is! The book is authored by Bill Bryson and is a marvellous work of non-fiction. The book explores the origin of our universe with us and everything in it, unravels how earth formed, plunges deep into the world of microparticles-the atoms, neutrons, electrons and many more and then weaves delicately through the world of dinosaurs, microorganisms and finally, humans. 

My personal experience while reading this book was that of wonder and admiration. I cannot but take a bow of respect to the level of preparation, commitment and hardwork that must have gone in making this happen. It is not out of place to feel whether a complete work of non fiction would be boring in some way but on the contrary. The way it is written keeps you intrigued and curious to find out more. I suspect the reason for this that all these facts are expressed through stories of the works and lives of great men and women. The language is simple yet has a certain rapture of mystery which makes you turn pages.

To state an example: A paragraph from the book "When you sit on a chair, your body is not actually in contact. The bottom is levitating at an angstrom level( a hundred milionth of a centimetre) above which is not evident to the naked eye. The rationale is your and electrons will oppose as they come close and push each other away. So essentially, we are floating but at micro-micro-micro units".

So you see, the books shows the mysterious world we live in. It gave me  glimpses into the lessons of physics, chemistry and geology that i had done while in school and hence, there was this whiff of kind nostalgia that could not be ignored. I think it a brilliant book, long and brain-racking but definitely worth a read.

As I Lay on the Turmac Black

I saw the clouds of dust before me.
Not large but scant and fine.
They rose above the turmac black,
A glimpse of the world above,
And settled quietly back.
It would again do the same,
With every breath, I struggled to let in and out.
The dance of the dust lingered before my eyes,
As I lay chained to the turmac black.
 
I heard muffled voices,
Shouts or cries, couldn’t say.
It seemed to emanate far way,
Sorry, strained and struggled.
Neither did it reach nor enlighten ,
But I did hear the voices!
As I lay imprisoned to the turmac black.
 
I tried to scream, shout and plead
But he never did heed.
The dust swept in as I cried,
Numbed the mouth,voice and speech.
I tasted dust and injustice,
As I lay traumatised on the turmac black.
My body hugged the ground,
To the earth,I was bound,
By the powerful yet insane.
 The hardness I felt,the heat and the pain.
 As I lay sprawled, alive but lifeless on the turmac black.
 
I smelled the heat, the air, earth and people.
The scents were afloat,
Tugging my sense to take note,
But with every breath a task,
It seemed not a pleasant ask.
As I lay overpowered on the turmac black.
 
I felt the fear, anger and distress,
 Strangling life bare.
I felt it, pregnant everywhere!
Although, unable to understand ,
Discern the origins or reasons.
It stroked my soul.
As I lay beneath the choke of a human limb on the turmac black.
 
I could see, hear, taste, smell and feel.
Yet I could not perceive!!
This helpless body, mind and soul.
As I lay under the weight of his body and anger.
My life, the highs and lows flickered before me.
I am not perfect, I confess, have good and vice,
I may be neat or messy.
But my brother,
Feel my plea!
When I ask for hope, a breath, a life and mercy.
For you and me are one from beginning to end.
 
I leave this world, my friends and foes.
After I do, not flowers do I need or endless songs,
But a promise of never again, a similar story of tragedy and grief.

Period,Pain and Pride!

 

The agony of it all,

You might say!

Every month ,less or more,

I give my blood,the precious drops.

I shed it from within

No questions asked.

For some it’s the beginning,

For some in between.

For the others, the end is near.

 

Reserve any thoughts if you never had a feel,

The days before it is real.

The bloating, aches and the cramping,

With moods to and fro on a swing.

The waves of nausea, steaming the taste buds

It’s not for the fainthearted, my dear,If  I may.

 

As these changes seems visible to world in view,

Internally,a battle of hormones is on!

The mind and the body soldiering to its tunes,

This age old scuffle continues.

Performed  perfectly ,

Orchestrated, in detailed harmony.

 

It’s normal, painful or less,

Troubling and or a mess.

It’s a part of me, like it or not

Yet, Keeping me in, closed behind a lair

Is it fair?

And taking a dig and jibe,at face and behind

Is it Kind?

Coaching me the impurity of the bleed,

Is it not a moronic plead?

Depraving me liberty to pray,

Is it not inequality or hypocrisy or both ,I must say?

Shackling me the with the cultural ethos of the menstrual blood.

Is it not but respectful to bleed with freedom?

 

My Life,My body,My Bleed!

Not a cultural heritage or matter of disgust!

It plain and simple.

My period,My pain and My pride!

Full stop.