Retro-introspection!

I'm in Bhutan. It's three weeks. Three weeks of trying to settle down, party, have fun and learn a bit. Three weeks of cold, mind-numbing chill and search for warmth!

Compared to the last three weeks this week has rather been quiet. That doesn’t mean I’ve not had my share of parties, phone calls and fun. I’ve had. But, there’s been more to my life than just that this week. The quiet is in my mind. It probably has come from the books that I’ve been reading.

I feel like after a long while I’ve been reading something meaningful. I discovered the library here just after Christmas. The first book I read was, ‘Why didn’t they ask Evans?” by Agatha Christie. Just showing my mental age – that I am yet to grow up! But the next book literally shook me. Made me think. Made me ask questions to myself, shook my faith and beliefs and put me on to a path where I could be more human and tolerant. It probably may not have a life-long effect. But, the effect of the book has yet not worn off. The book was ‘Life of Pi’ by Yann Martel. I’ll write to you about one of the offshoots of having read the book at leisure.

I went back to the library after a while (though I finished the two books I had borrowed and the two magazines in three days). Much after the New Year. I borrowed two more books. One easy on the eyes – the Fourth Protocol by Frederick Forsyth. And, another hailed as ‘a work of genius’. I went away to Phuentsholing without starting to read either of the two books (or the two more magazines I’d picked up).

After I was back I read the Fourth Protocol first. The other book was fatter than this so I thought I’d touch it later.

As though the shock that I experienced in reading this book wasn’t enough I read this ‘work of genius’ that made me breakdown and cry. May be I’m growing old and becoming senile to get moved by a book like that. But I’m not ashamed that I felt it that way. It was like watching a beautiful movie. It was as though I was part of the story. I felt I was there and I could see the characters talk, fight, cry, laugh and live (and die). The book was Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance.

Set in 1975, the novel tells the story of the lives of four people who come together during the emergency and how they are affected by the togetherness. It has a lot of past. The stories of most individuals start before independence. The stories are heartbreaking and heartwarming. Though I’m through with reading the book (and had a party to attend after I’d finished and I went there with my eyes red) the people still have stayed with me (something that has happened very rarely).

I don’t know if this book either would have a lasting effect on me. It might or it might not. But it’s one of those books that I’d want to recommend to others too. It’s difficult to read the book (no, not because it’s written in some arcane English but because it is voluminous). But once you start reading it’s ‘unputdownable’ despite not being a thriller.

Another thing I’d want to tell is that these days when I read these novels I start wring screenplays for them in my mind. I imagine different actors playing the roles. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I enjoy it. I think even after I’m through with the book. About the suitability of different actors to be in it. The dialogues. The settings, the places and the background. Further Indianising the story. And so on! I remember the evening when I sat with Adai and Mathew for a drink (that turned out to be quite long). I recall telling them suddenly (it had actually dawned upon me just then) that I wanted to do a course in scriptwriting. It's coming back. The desire is getting stronger! May be I should ask Tom to find a good place for me in LA. I'll go there to do it! The land of the dreams - Hollywood!