Category: Fiction


My Life In Books.

General World XLNC Time Fiction Myriad Tiaras | By Aditya | 2014 Trackbacks (0) Add comment   
The course of life that I've charted upto now is filled with books. Books which inspired me, motivated me, made me wonder and also some books which made me feel sad and depressed.
 
All the books in my life! 

I've read books which range from crappy Chetan Bhagat shit to Dostoevsky. From Nietzsche to Ayn Rand. From Art of War and The Prince to religious works like The Bible, The Quran and The Bhagvath Gita. And I must say that all of them have inspired me in some way or the other. Some positively, some not as much.

I remember reading the religious books I mentioned soon after I finished my 10th exams. They changed my perspective about God, love, morality and the purpose of life. But today I'm not religiously inclined nor am I too spiritual - heck, I could easily be classified as a staunch atheist for all intents and purposes. But these books made me take up such a stance about God and religion - all these books had conflicting points amongst themselves, so I chose to remain religionless for a large part of time from them on.

During my Bachelor's I started reading other philosophical and radical books - books by Nietzsche and Ayn Rand. Nietzsche didn't have as much as an impact on me as Ayn Rand's Fountainhead - I must say it screwed up head in a lot of ways and I actually ended up being too Objectivistic for my own good. The book was followed by long periods of introspection, rejection of normalcy and manic depression. (Read my initial blog posts and you'll see the connection!)

Anyway, after the long and dark night of Objectivism came some amazing books like Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov - this was one amazing and profound book. It's among my favorite books of all time. And also Shantaram - which too is a personal favorite of mine.

In between Religion and Roark came Nietzche's Beyond Good and Evil and during that time I was inspired by Nihilism and Existentialism.

So from a outside perspective you can see how I went from being religious or spiritual (while reading The Quran, The Bible and The Gita) to learning about the meaninglessness of life (Nietzsche) to being self-sufficient and reclusive (Ayn Rand).

After all these books, came a period of lull - I stopped reading so that I could stop being inspired by every other book that came my way. I shifted to science, Wikipedia and gaining knowledge, I learnt new things about life, morality and death and I started searching for purpose and aims and goals - but didn't find any. Science was a good way to sidetrack from all the philosophy I crammed into my brain but it didn't provide the answers I was looking for.

Then came the fall - After I lost all hope and was feeling as hopeless as I ever could (a year ago) I went back to square one. I started reading the old books again, retracing my path to get a better perspective and to get a deeper understanding as to why I behaved the way I did.

I just finished rereading Shantaram a few months ago and the circle you could say is complete. I've learnt from all the mistakes and I can see where and how I went wrong with all the ideologies and viewpoints I had. Now I start afresh. You could as well say that I have started a new life altogether.

My next few posts will elucidate further on the various books I mentioned in a more detailed manner and will reflect not just on the contents of the books but also on my state of mind while I read them.

P.S. - In addition to the books I mentioned, I also read works of Khalil Gibran, Khaled Hosseini, Rushdie, Orwell, Tolkien, Kafka, Nabokov and Orhan Pamuk.


Paradox Of Fiction

XLNC Time Life Fiction | By Aditya | 2013 Trackbacks (0) Add comment   

Dateline - August 4, 2012

We were both glad to be meeting each other.
She walked in with a smile on her face, glad that I was there.
And so was I.

She later spoke about life, the people in it and what she aspires from it.
And I of my past, my memories and the people I missed.

It was twilight.
She was pleased that she had found what she was looking for.
And I was relieved to find what I was looking for.
She had rediscovered forgotten memories.
And I had found trust. And a friend from half way around the world.
And in a mysterious way we were both contented. Comfortable.

I thought that if there ever was forever - this is what it is supposed to feel like!

No expectations. No preconceptions. Talking. Reminiscing. Not knowing when we'll meet like this again.

And the moments were sewn together so magnificently that the threads which held our memories blended into each other perfectly with no way to set them apart.

But as much as we wish to pause time and cling on to the instants that make our lives worth the pain, time shows us that everything must change and we must move on.

And so here I am... sitting in the same place where I had started. And she in the same place she was before the journey.

But we both reached a place we were not so sure of discovering at the beginning - Happiness!

P.S. - This post is heavily borrowed from an article I read a long time ago on Facebook... So all credit and apologies to the original writer.



The Abandoned?

Fiction | By Aditya | 2011 Trackbacks (0) Add comment   
Once upon a time, a large tribe left their homes and started travelling “back home from back home”. They were told by their captain that the journey would lead them to their ancestral kingdom. Some people questioned it and said this was their homeland. Yet many people left for the long voyage in search of their motherland.

Every day the clan walked. Walked in search of their homeland, a land they knew they will someday reach. Every day they strove to attain their motherland.

And on this tedious journey they met people who told them why they wanted to go back in the first place, when they were all happy living in their new homes. The band tells them that the Promised Land is their right. It is their Holy Kingdom. A realm where there will be utopian happiness and a legendary bliss. They say that their captain will take them towards the dominion of freedom from their present land of slavery.

As each day ends, they told each other stories of their once homeland, stories from their grandmothers’ grandmothers. So each day as they voyaged, their confidence built up. Each day their captain encouraged them forward. And each day they sang about their homes and people.

Some people stopped and left. They felt it was hopeless. They felt it was too tiring a journey. Some people joined in and sensed the crossing was a must. That they must reach their promised land.

People they come across say that it is worthless to travel. Worthless as there never was a motherland. That it was all an elaborate hoax. A deceit, a trick. A prank played by the captain.

Yet the few people who are left do not lose hope, they journey on. Not knowing that there is no difference between the slavery they were forced into and the submission they choose to be in.

And years later, they still are journeying not knowing if there is a motherland. And not knowing if by going back they can reclaim their homes they left in search of their Promised Land.

And as all of this happens, people across the lands talk about this journey, this exodus, and wait; wait, for these people to lose hope. Wait for people to abandon their quest. Wait for the last believer to turn back. And the people wonder how long it will take for a hope to end? How long for a faith to die? How long for a devotion to break down?

Yet they know not that this has nothing to do with the clan’s devotion to their Promised Land, but it has everything to do with their unwavering faith in their own beliefs.


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