Prashant's Solace

An October 24, 2019 post by Zadie Smith in New York Review of Books, inspired this essay. So I would like to duly acknowledge it by sharing its link. https://www.nybooks.com/articles/2019/10/24/zadie-smith-in-defense-of-fiction/ The human mind is a dumping ground for all kinds of thought-material. This is a pretty outrageous statement to make, considering the above article. But so is the use of the adjective 'outrageous'. This sort of conjecture keeps engaging me and my actions and hence unpopularity with certain individuals around me. It seems that confusion, especially in issues of the daily, from - where to eat, what to eat, whether to go on a vacation, if yes where to go, should I read a particular book or not - to major life decisions - everything is dictated by a pressure of definition, certainty, a defined state. Doubt has always characterised my decisions. Whether the resulting judgements (if I can call them that) have proved fruitful is another lo...

…Three characters who were the best of friends set out on a journey. Shortly after the below picture was taken one of them vomited because of the twisting and turning road from Mumbai to Goa. The happy expressions do not betray the discomfort of at least one of them. Pictures never reveal a lot so I never read too much in one. Times do. The milky waterfall, riveting greenery, the time of the day, the sweeping beauty of rain in Western Ghats presented a wonderful backdrop for one of the many journey’s they undertook together. The memory of the moment serves as a reminder of a bygone era. It had interlocked three wishes; to be happy, find purpose and to make the most of their lives. That era catapulted more or less intertwined lives into three different streams of life. One of them ever-determined to make the most of his life continued his search for meaning of life and happiness. He lives to push his mental and physical self into uncharted waters. People, places a...

“Long years ago, we made a tryst with destiny; and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A…” “Wake up! You idiot.” “How dare you interrupt free India’s first Prime Minister’s speech?” My sister is in a hurry to leave the house. Parents out of station. Before she leaves the house, I must be awakened to do the morning chores. The house maid must be buzzed in. Plants in our garden must be watered. And of course, I have to go to the office. A Prime Minister of a new born country being woken up cruelly when he is in the middle of waking up the whole country! The world has lost its sense of priorities and important issues. “I will be home late. No dinner for me. Don’t you dare waste a second getting off that fart smelling bed.” She is quite nice, my sister, otherwise. Thud. The car moves hastily out on t...