COMPOS MENTIS

November 4, 2010

FIFTEEN FAVOURITE AUTHORS :)

I have been asked who my fifteen favourite authors are. The names have to come thick and fast. They will but in random order. Here's the list.

1) Charles Dickens: For me no one can spin a yarn as he does. Picking up a Dickens means that I don't have to worry about how to spend my free hours. It has been this way for years now, ever since I read 'David Copperfield' when I was fourteen. He tops my list. 'Great Expectations' is an all-time favourite.

2) Jane Austen: She improves my English almost instantly, like one of those wonder-make-up products that beauty gurus rave about. After reading an Austen, I speak 'propah' English for daaaays! I have enacted Elizabeth Bennet countless times in my head. Unfortunately, no Darcy has come my way for me to try out my acting skills :(

3) Enid Blyton: For the love of adventure, no matter how juvenile they seem now to the 34-year old in me, for the fun that cousins can have during holidays...something quite unknown to me, and for the love of food! Even as I type this I can smell farm-fresh butter melting on hot scones...ummm...pure bliss :)

4) L.M. Montgomery: She gave me a kindred spirit in Anne. I'll never feel friendless again. In my darkest days, 'Anne of Green Gables' is my go-to book. The innocence, tender human relationships, hope and optimism that Montgomery gives life to in the series are absent in the world I live in. Anne shines like a beacon.

5)Satyajit Ray: For his unputdownable 'Feluda' series. Such a hero! However, Jatayu remains my favourite.

6) Tagore: He could have written his short stories and stopped just there. I would have still been a happy reader.

7) David Lodge: For I am still a student at heart and there is no place more appropriate for human drama than a university. I love his campus novels and love Lodge even more for the 'chyangra' Englishman he hides behind his gentlemanly demeanour. He never fails to put a smile on my face.

8) Nick Hornby: Speaking of writers of comedy, how can I not include Hornby? He speaks the truth, no matter how ugly or unpalatable it may be. I think about life, my life...deeply and honestly when I read Hornby. And while I read him, he makes sure that I have an asisnine smile pasted on my face!

9) P.G. Wodehouse: The old boy is so much fun. I have a profound relationship with his books, probably because I firmly believe I was a decadent, Victorian aristocrat in my last life.

10) Neruda: His love poems...Ah, to be loved like that!

11) Amitav Ghosh: I can't believe I haven't mentioned him yet. Once again for his yarns and for the fact that he takes his job as a writer very seriously. That's bound to pay off, isn't it?

12) Harold Pinter: I had to include a playwright. His plays scare me. The absurdity spooks me. I have not quite recovered ever since I read 'The Room'.

13) Ian McEwan: I hope he is not finished as a writer. I am so fond of him. 'Saturday' and 'Atonement' remain my favourites. Reading about distorted thinking and twisted minds can be quite a pleasure.

14) Zoë Heller: I have only read her 'Notes on a Scandal' and have loved it. I told you, I love reading about twisted people. Here's a writer I am very excited about.

15) Mario Vargas Llosa: My new favourite. There couldn't be two more different books than 'Conversation in the Cathedral' and 'Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter' and yet, I've loved them both. Speaks volumes about the author, doesn't it?

February 18, 2010

2010

Back when we were grown ups: Anne Tyler
Dissolution: C.J.Sansom
Dreaming of Strangers: Matt Thorne
The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole: Sue Townsend
Toddler Hunting and Other Stories: Kono Taeko
The Bridesmaid: Ruth Rendell
Weekend in Paris: Robyn Sisman
Love Lives: Josie LLoyd and Emlyn Rees
A Thousand Splendid Suns: Khaled Hosseini
About a Boy: Nick Hornby
Juliet, Naked: Nick Hornby
The Brightest Star in the Sky: Marian Keyes
Home Truths: David Lodge
High Fidelity: Nick Hornby
Why Girls are Weird: Pamela Ribon
Last Chance Saloon: Marian Keyes
Sushi for Beginners: Marian Keyes
The Thin Man: Dashiel Hammett

January 4, 2010

Profile

Cities

Nandini is an explorer that:

occasionally strays off track

is happy with a roof and running water

likes a little risk

Travel cred: pretty good

I rank in the top...

0.1% most cities visited - Bhutan

0.8% most cities visited - Pakistan

1% most cities visited - India

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December 28, 2009

ALL SAINTS

Having for years listened to Gregorian chants, and not to forget my Irish Catholic schooling, it made a lot of sense to me that I was determined to be a serious observer of All Saints' Day as it is celebrated in Poland.
Wiki says, 'All Saints' Day (in the Catholic Church, officially the Solemnity of All Saints and also called All Hallows or Hallowmas), often shortened to All Saints, is a solemnity celebrated on November 1 in Western Christianity, and on the first Sunday after Pentecost in Eastern Christianity, in honour of all the saints, known and unknown.
In terms of Western Christian theology, the day commemorates all those who have attained the beatific vision in Heaven. In the Roman Catholic Church, the next day, All Souls' Day, specifically commemorates the departed faithful who have not yet been purified and reached heaven. It is a national holiday in many historically Catholic countries.'
In Poland the day is spent visiting the graves of deceased relatives, where prayers and flowers are offered, candles are lit and the graves themselves are cleaned, repaired and repainted. The American Halloween is gaining popularity among the young, but the firm upholders of tradition speak of it rather disparagingly.

The cemetery I visited was crowded on the Catholic side, spooky and near empty on the Protestant side and looked like death on the Russian Orthodox side. Here are some photographs from that evening.

November 29, 2009

BLAZE OF GLORY

Insignificant and commonplace that I am, it always amazes me when my wishes get fulfilled. For ever so long, I wanted to see a real fall and drown in its colours. My wish has been granted and I've not ceased to wonder how decay can look so colourful. The fall this year in Lodz has been truly beautiful. October did scare us a bit, what with an extremely freezing one week and two days of freak snow!!! However, it more than made up for it in the next few weeks. I'll let the photographs speak for themselves.

A MONTH DEDICATED TO BHINDESHI 'BHAI-S'

Can I call November ‘boisterous’? Never mind whether I can or not. November has been a pretty boisterous month for Darby and Joan. Largely responsible for this is Brit tragic hero who had a disastrous accident about two and a half weeks ago while racing Polish Goddess’ car. Ever since the mishap, we have become close friends. A thorough Brit and, therefore, self-admittedly, born with an accountant’s soul, he has shown us a film for every meal we have shared with him. Last Thursday we watched Jim Jarmusch’s ‘Ghostdog: The Way of the Samurai’, a samurai ‘gansta’ flick starring Forest Whitaker who plays an African American mafia hit man. He models himself after the samurai of old and follows the ancient code of the samurai as outlined in the book of Yamamoto Tsunetomo’s recorded sayings, ‘Hagakure’ (courtesy WIKI). A slightly pretentious film, according to Darby. Seconded by me. However, on the plus side, the film has an amazing soundtrack by Wu-Tang Clan's RZA. Whitaker, despite his girth, is menacing. His eyes do the trick, reminding us once again of ‘The Last King of Scotland’ that released seven years later. ‘Ghostdog’ was preceded by ‘Sexy Beast’ which has a stupendous performance by Ben Kingsley, a performance that left Darby speechless for days. He couldn’t quite believe Kingsley was the same guy who played Gandhi. The film has some knockout lines and Don Logan is quite a beast. Our first cinematic adventure since Brit tragic hero’s accident has been a beautiful French film set against the Paris underworld, ‘De battre mon coeur s'est arête (The Beat That My Heart Skipped). This 2005 French film is a remake of James Toback's 1978 film 'Fingers. Duris puts in a powerful performance as a young, real estate broker who is torn between his love for music and aspiration to become a concert pianist, and his commitment to the dodgy, underbelly of the real estate mafia that he works for. Joan particularly loved the film's last scene, almost poetic in its import and effect. On our own we discovered a Tapan Sinha gem, ‘Nirjan Saikate’ (on the lines of ‘Amrita kumbher Shandhaane’) based on a novel by Samaresh Basu. It does seem unfair of history that it made Tapan Sinha a contemporary of Ray. Such a sensitive filmmaker! Such grasp of the minutest nuances of Bengali life!

As the accident saga continues, we have come to a stage when we tell Brit tragic hero repeatedly that it is impossible to keep a tab on the number of Earl Grey-s, ciggies and dinners that have been borrowed, lent and shared. The man is an absolute sweetheart and Darby and Joan now understand why mothering him would come effortlessly to so many of his female acquaintances. Lucky him??!!

We were finally introduced to an Indian in this city, a businessman from Delhi who has been living here for the past year and a half. Joan has to admit that as a couple they are not ‘dying’ to get acquainted with Indians here. Overfamiliarity with one’s own culture and people can be stifling. A break from anything Indian, barring Bengali films and music, has been both refreshing and exciting. What does all of the above prove? We have been rather hyperactive socially, attending dinners and inviting friends over. This also means that there have been marathon cooking sessions. That reminds me…Darby and Joan are Bongs at heart, so no denying the love for fish. We love the trout available here, called ‘pstrang’.

P.S. Multiple consonants tumbling one after the other in a word makes me feel murderous!!! What a difficult language!!!)

October 16, 2009

GREENHORNS

Exactly eight months after we arrived in a madhouse called Sarnia 2, the place has welcomed two new foreigners. R from the United States and J from Germany. The Sarnia foreigners met both of them last evening over drinks and snacks. We have already intimidated one of them it seems and predictably the senior of the two, R. The German waif is a chirpy little one and has meshed well, it seems. Lavatorial jokes (and not intellectual mumbojumbo) seemed to dominate the conversation for whatever reason and they were openly aimed at some of the group but all in good spirits. The evening reminded Joan of the first informal gathering she was invited to and it is impossible not mentioning Mrs. Perth and Gregory Peck. Shit! I miss them.
I don't think I have mentioned this before but we arrived at Sarnia on the 14th of February at the exact same time that one of the Sarnia dwellers was preparing to give up his life. He did that successfully on the railway tracks that run through the forest nearby. Lost Soul was also unloved, it seems which is why the choice of such a day for bidding farewell. I was advised a week later to apply for the position that belonged to him and honestly, I felt a bit squeamish about it. Thankfully, since it was the middle of the term, the University seemed to be in a great hurry to find a substitute and they found someone before I could apply. No regrets really because work soon followed and I am settled. BTW, Lost Soul was half-English. I suppose, that explains the chronic melancholia. Hopefully, next time I will have something happy to report.