PAGES – 241


Take a moment to appreciate the gorgeous book cover first.

It is the shades of blue which makes it so beautiful.

While I didn’t enjoy the previous book by the same author, I loved this one. It had everything that made it so relatable, relaxing and anxious at the same time. The story primarily focuses on a middle aged man who has a steady government job and a family to support for. His only son studies in a college and lives in a hostel.

What I loved about just this simple tale is that it is the exact depiction of every middle class Indian household. Same damn story in every house. Parents worrying to death about their children’s welfare and future while the children keep testing their parents’ patience with their never stopping list of demands. There was an instance where the son demanded to be left in a coaching institute for his finishing years of the school and the parents had to oblige. It didn’t bear any fruits but the depiction of herd mentality was brilliant. And the parents are absolutely clueless about technology while their son can ramble on and on about different aspects of it. But the real story focused on Kumarasurar, the middle aged family man. His ordeal with dealing with his teenage son and his reluctance to learn the newer technologies felt so true. When his son asks for a new mobile phone worth Rs. 75,000, he finds himself in a turmoil and gets drawn in to various reports of why a smart phone is harmful for children. Of course the story was pure parody but I loved it anyway. It was the last three chapters which made the book worth a read. Kumarasurar finds himself at peace when he visits the sea; the estuary. I loved it because it faintly reminded me of the time when I was by myself at the beach, just watching the sea for hours. There’s something about vast nothingness that is so haunting and calm. Life is nothing but an oxymoron.


How can a Sunday feel so full and so short at the same time? I would turn to my default answer of “I don’t know anything at all”. That is true. I seem to know nothing at all these days. It’s even a struggle to get by the day. Now that I am on medications, I can only hope that things will start looking a little better and the nights would stop being so scary. Again, all I can do is hope.

“April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.”

The wasteland, T.S. Eliot

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