AUTHOR- John Green
Ah, the comfort of a familiar book. It would be the first time that I would be talking about a book that I have just re-read. Reading John Green always restores my faith back in YA books. But the major reason why I suddenly decided that I should read this book again because I was wondering today which my favorite book of Green’s was. It used to be Looking for Alaska but I remembered that I liked this book too. Next up I would be reading tales of Alaska Young and would conclude which book I love the most.
The book centers around Aza Holmes who has to deal with anxiety and OCD. I hate to write that she “suffers” from it. She is dealing with it. I think we should exchange the word “Suffer” with “Dealing”. If nothing else, it sounds a lot more braver. Coming back to the story, Aza and her best friend Daisy try to solve a case involving the disappearance of a billionaire. In involves them having to hang out with the billionaire’s son, Davis who is a childhood friend of Aza. As they reconnect and help out each other, borrowing each other’s strength to go on, it fills the book with subtle yet remarkable aspects of human companionship. I respected the fact that the author did not anywhere refer to the individuals to have fallen in love. For me, that sheer indication ruins everything. It is the same reason why I didn’t enjoy The Fault In Our Stars.
Like every other book, this book too had a personal touch for me. When Aza starts thinking, it reminds me of the way that I think. Having dealing with anxiety since the past six years now, I realize how I differ from Aza. While Aza is unable to shut her mind and get out from the constant madness that it offers, I do have it under control at times. Just a year ago, I was in a pretty bad shape. Panic attacks so frequent and so bad that I would go crazy and landed myself in the hospital. Funnily, I don’t know what they gave me in the hospital to calm me down but I lost my memory for the next two days. Even now, I have absolutely no recollections of the events of those two days. It feels weird to have even 48 hours wiped out of one’s memory. Like they say, what are we if not memories and dreams? Fortunately, I feel like I am at a much better place today. It’s not gone. At this point, I have accepted the fact that it is a part of me and it makes things a bit easier. But I shall always remain grateful to all those people who have constantly been there for me when my mind was not. If not for them, I don’t know where I would have been today.
Another thing which I found delightful while reading the book was when Davis wrote his blog posts. It hit home. It also made me want to resume writing my diary. I had been putting it off for 6 months now. Swinging between “nothing much to write” and “too much to write”, I cheated myself by not writing anything at all. So let me write a wonderful page tonight about nothingness and everything-ness.
Here goes my favorite part about books: words!
“To be alive is to be missing.”
When Aza says the above, she refers to her dead father, to Davis’ dead parents and to all the dead beings who leave their loved ones to miss them for life. It is true though, ain’t it?
“In the best conversations, you don’t even remember what you talked about, only how it felt. It felt like we were in some place your body can’t visit, some place with no ceiling and no walls and no floor and no instruments.”
Won’t that be a feeling? A feeling that one would capture and keep in one’s heart all life long. Unfortunately, I either remember the entire conversations or forget the existent of the person. There’s no in between.
“Reading someone’s poetry is like seeing them naked” -Davis Pritchett”
Davis gets me! This is the same reason why I never let anyone read my poetry. I am too insecure.
“At some point in life the world’s beauty becomes enough. You don’t need to paint, photograph or even remember it. It is enough.”
It reminds me of my favorite place in my hometown. I love it so much and yet I visit it so very less but never once have taken a snap of it. It is a simple place, not too crowded, not too posh. But every time I think of it, it feels me with a sense of eerie and calmness.
Alright, now taking on the title of the book, here’s what Wikipedia had to say:
“Turtles all the way down” is an expression of the problem of infinite regress. The saying alludes to the mythological idea of a World Turtle that supports the earth on its back. It suggests that this turtle rests on the back of an even larger turtle, which itself is part of a column of increasingly large turtles that continues indefinitely (i.e., “turtles all the way down”).
John also mentions this in the book and I think it is a pretty beautiful phrase.
Well, rough days, rough days. I try to give my best all time though. With college graduation done now, my supposed job awaits me in a month or so. I miss school. Not the students or friends or teachers, but the education. I want to curl up with a History book or a Geography book right now. I miss the poems in the English classes. I miss having to do homework which actually fascinated me. I constantly feel like I have chosen the wrong field. Maybe studying computers was never meant for me. Maybe I should have studied History or Economics or something that didn’t make me the way I feel with computers: lifeless and out of passion. Ironically, I have been watching the series The Office. I am already at season four and it takes a lot of my time. Oh, and I have been listening to Louis Armstrong’s What a wonderful world since the last one hour. I used to listen to it with my father back in my school days. It used to fill me with an optimism too rare and a sunshine too bright.
I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful worldI see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful worldThe colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do
They’re really saying I love youI hear babies crying, I watch them grow
They’ll learn much more than I’ll never know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world
P.S.: John Green himself dealt with mental illness since an early age.