Tamas by Bhisham Sahni – a review

Colonialism, Freedom and Partition….
After almost 75 years of independence who can forget the horrors of Partition.
Writers like Bhisham Sahni has very well documented the partition period, a time of which he himself witnessed and who can write it better than the Indian person standing on the ground, battling the consequences that politicians and colonisers mapped for themselves.
Bhisham Sahni’s Tamas, a hindi novel (translated into English) has amalgamation of various Indian Characters as also the representatives of the British colonizers. Without any particular protagonist, the book dugs deep showing the darkness (tamas as it means in hindi language) that engulfed the entire nation and at the same time it unearths various possible reasons for the division. On one hand there is colonisers whose intention is Divide and Rule, on the other hand there are politicians lurking for power, the extremists and fundamentalists who politicised religion for their individual profit, disturbance or riots as we see is the product, blood it’s byproduct. All these affects the common people who for a long time had been living peacefully. There is fear, there is pain. Women, the worst sufferers amongst all. All these seemed useless but clear to the colonizers as when Liza enquiries why she isn’t able to differentiate between a Hindu and a Muslim through the physical appearance. She gets a clear answer from Richard, that although the people here were separated by religion, they belonged to the same racial stock:
“The first wave of migrants came from Central Asia three or four thousand year ago and the band of invaders who came two thousand years or so later both belonged to same racial stock. The former were known as Aryans and the latter Muslims. But both had the same racial roots.”

Frankenstein: The Modern Prometheus – A Review

Let me start my review with Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Full name of the book is Frankenstein, the Modern Prometheus.
The subtitle is indeed interesting and appropriate as the story unfolds.
The book that Shelly wrote when she was just 19. The result of the competition that Lord Byron hosted, that was to write the best  ghost Stories to wile away their time. And then Shelly elaborated it into a novel, of course her husband P.B Shelly encouraged her. The story starts in an epistolary format with where we see exchange of letters between Captain Walton and his sister. Walton bridges the gap between the readers and the characters, and brings the story of Frankenstein to life, also giving it more authenticity. Walton is in a heroic and scientific pursuit to discover new passage and it is in the cold Arctic path, that he meets wounded Victor Frankenstein and gives him refuge. In the meantime we hear Victor’s story, a scientist who was passionate about science that he gave no time to his family and his beloved. At last he is successful in creating a life but unlike his expectations, the new life is hideous and monster like. So once it’s born Victor doesn’t accept his creature and abandons it. As such, the creature who wants to get included in a society faces series of rejections. There is a murder that the creature commits, though unwillingly. It’s Victor’s youngest brother. He requests his master for a partner to spend the rest of his life but Victor doesn’t yield to his wishes. Then follows the revenge and death. The world of Victor turns upside down. Shelly has created a wonderful work of art which although written in the 19th century proves to be a visionary, a cautionary tale regarding the consequences of science and technology.
Pic credit: pinterest
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Frankenstein

Old shoe on an old river.

Whenever I am home I never fail to visit this small spring just behind my house. It holds a special position in my heart because I grew up with stories latched to this place. It’s very choko or pure is what our grandparents say and this place had served as a source of water for many years. They would come here and fill their Ghailas (brass/copper pitchers). We are told of how a long bamboo pipe was fitted like running pipe. And my papa and uncles always tells us how sweet the water tasted through bamboo pipes… Now we no longer use this place. The spring has become a lot narrower and there is a modern way to access water through pipelines which we do through another source, another spring, a lot bigger than the ancient one. But we still respect this place for taking care of our families for years…

#Timeandreflections

#quarantinestories as zà,the o you are so

Silence and Mind

And then there is a life so silent as our nights. A calmness that can be felt only at night, a peace to harness for the next day.
But sometimes the night, an important part to survive via sleep and dreams becomes heavy.
In a clinical term, referred as insomnia…we become lost in the dark even during the day.
Also a sign of depression in so many cases. There are so many reasons we fall into this pit. But from my personal experience I can assure those who are facing this phase, to stop being stagnant and do something. The best way is to write or get involve into any forms of art and express the submerged emotions. I know that not everyone can talk and share their problems with anyone. And also get outside into the nature. #foresttherapy #naturetherapy. It’s healing. It’s therapeutic. Not to get submerged with emotions is important. So to release pressure is important for you to float on the earth we are living. And remember earth can absorb it all.
I learned to release mountains of pressure from my grandpa and baba who are involved with nature each and every day. I can’t forget how my dad would wake me up and take me walk on the dewy wet grass….. #photography #newschoolpoetry #flowers #love #countryside #countrylife #followme #aesthetic #poetrycommunityofig. #bambooshoots #green #earth #storytelling
#visualart #countryp #farming #farmlife #countryliving #mentalhealth #depression

Quarantine Chapters

I think it’s only the earth/nature that accepts you without your race and your colour. And even opens the door for every body to bloom after death.
So this is the first grown cucumber, papa planted during this #Quarantinedays. And here’s the fruit. That’s the bamboo shoots we received, early morning and a few chillies, collected from the backyard; soon we will be meeting the pumpkins.I will be sharing more stories from my life. Sorry for being inconsistent. I know how blogging helped me reach where I am today. How it helped me to preserve sanity and calmness of spirit.Instagram- @TimeandreflectionsYouTube- http://youtube.com/Timeandreflections

Mental. Health

Pinterest
Pinterest

If and only if we could express more, talk, not just chat.. wish we could show some unhappy faces, not just preety smiles and have a collection of angry portraits. Suddenly your feed is gathered up with posts of mental health. People are being so much attentive towards it. Perhaps there are only a few who actually talk and listen to other people’s problem. Only a few or none , so many times fail to penetrate into that dark claustrophobic atmosphere. Someone hardly wants to see a gloomy face. It’s hard. We were taught to hide, pinched to smile well, say cheese in a photograph, and allowed to drown behind the doors….
What matters the most when you meet someone is not how well you are but what you are doing, if you have finished your course, how much % you scored, what job you are into, how well you are earning…so on and so forth and if you are not situated in any position, you are a paragraph of gossip. There are so many a poem and less a shoulder to lean and walk past a grave moment…
#Timeandreflections #2020