BOOKS AND BANGALORE

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Pressed Flower



"Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times?" Mo had said..."As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells...and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there, too, a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower...both strange and familiar.”

-Cornelia Funke-


-R.

Friday, July 11, 2014

A Piece Of Cake





“Chocolate flavor will do?” I asked.

No response.

“Okay, Vanilla is it this time? I asked again.

He walked away giving a nod, well seemed like it. 

This was at the neighborhood grocery stores a week ago. Three days later I baked this cake for him, it took me a good two hours. I generously decorated it with tutti frutti, jellies and grated chocolate after the icing, all the time thinking of him. He loves cakes, that apart there is a certain sweetness about him. I had to remember to keep that proportion. I wanted it to be more than edible. While I placed this one in the refrigerator and let it set, I sent him a picture of it with all the excitement in this world.

No reply.

He came home at night, after dinner opened the refrigerator and had a share of it without much noise. He must have got the picture so I thought. I looked at him eat and couldn’t stop myself from curiously asking him “How is it?” He slowly turned and looked at me, like a lion disturbed during his meal after the kill. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t annoyance. It was more like a grand statement. “If I am eating it means it is okay, do you get it? “ he said, and that was his longest line for me for the day.

“OKAY you mean? Well okay!” I said startled.

Thankfully it was decent enough for a home- made stuff, and that too just my second one. The next day when he was back home he opened the refrigerator again “Is it over?” he asked looking at the almost empty bowl. Nobody replied because the rest of folks at home were over and done with it. “Che!” he frowned and sat down. I smiled. He smiled too.

You know there are always a certain category of people in your life with whom no matter how hard either of you try there cannot be or rather there is no need of long conversations to put across a point. You ask something more, be sure to get a punch on your face. There is no demanding, no complaining, no inquiring, no pestering, no praising with intentions and no fishing for compliments. It is not in their element. Yet you feel blessed when they are around, just like how I feel with this younger brother of mine. No matter what I do, no matter what I want, no matter what I feel and no matter what I make he does not judge. And when he is forced to, he makes sure I either feel very awesome or very awful about it depending on the circumstance. Straight without doubt. More than everything else, no matter what I cook or bake, I am happy that there is one person who will surely eat.


Dealing with such a brother, it's a piece of cake!


-R.


Thursday, July 10, 2014

Choosing Words


“Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it.” 

-Albus Dumbledore in  
Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows-

Words- our only tool for everyday use, choose them wise, choose them nice ;-)


-R.