PAGES – 162


This book is the sequel to Hear the wind sing in the trilogy. I am not sure if I want to read the third one next because I need a break from this. I can never read books by Murakami one after the other. I only did so this time because my copy of the book had both of the stories. That reminds me, I bought this book. It doesn’t count as breaking my resolution because it’s Murakami. Right?

If the previous book felt like life, this one felt like a dream. I didn’t feel like I was getting to any point. It was just a long dream. The characters were more or less the same, with broken pasts and worrisome futures. And I was right. The narrator has no name. There was the Rat and J, the bartender from the previous book. The character(s) that I found interesting in this one were the twin girls. In my head they seem like the same person to me. Actually they mean something more than just that.

The narrator becomes obsessed about finding out the pinball machine called Spaceship. He used to play with it 3 years before in the bar. After the machine was sold off, he begins his pursuit to find it and play with it one last time. Ultimately he does find it but he longer has any desire to play with it. So here’s where my theory about the twins come in. What I believe is that the twins were some sort of a fragment of the pinball machine. They knew nothing. They didn’t tell the narrator anything. They just arrived one day suddenly and started living with him. They also left him soon after he finds the machine. I know it’s illogical but then again, the whole damn genre is far from logic.

My face and my soul were lifeless shells, of no significance to anyone. My soul passes someone else’s on the street. Hey, it says. Hey, the other responds. Nothing more. Neither waves. Neither looks back.

There weren’t a whole lot of quotes that appealed me in a way the above did.

Each day was a carbon copy of the last. You needed a bookmark to tell one from the other.

I like the above quote because it’s very relatable presently. The last year feels like it could be contained within a week. Truly, if it hadn’t been for my habit of journal writing, I won’t be able to distinguish between the days.


I am not usually fond of songs like this one but someone said that it reminded him of me. I laughed my guts out at the accuracy of the song. Definitely a bop.

There’s a certain warmth in eating ice-cream in the middle of the night with your sibling while reminiscing about the past.

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