Flight

Posted in Thinking Aloud by

flying

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, –and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of –Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air…
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Book Review: The Aryavarta Chronicles book 2: Kaurava

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Author: Krishna Udayasankar
Publisher: Hachette India
ISBN13: 9789350096345
Genre: Fiction
Pages: 472
Source: Flipkart

Kaurava is the second book in the mytho-historical trilogy, The Aryavarta Chronicles. It begins with Emperor Yudhisthir and Empress Draupadi, ruling over the unified kingdom of Aryavarta. The kingdom was put together for them by Govinda, with blessings from the Firewrights.

The Firewrights rise up from ashes of history, divided in their allegiance and purpose, and ready to wreak havoc on the kingdom. As sinister plots and treacherous allegiances form, the once noble land transforms into a nightmare. The Emperor gambles away the empire, while the empress is sent into exile as various factions within the realm congregate to conquer and destroy each other. Govinda knows that the only way to protect the Empress and the land is by playing a life-threatening game.

The author keeps the core of the classic saga in close contact all through the story, not altering the essence at any time. It’s the descriptions of characters and the relationships between them, which she so beautifully portrays, that keeps you hooked.
The ruthlessness of Yudhishtir, the stubbornness and strength of Panchali, the few good traces of Duryudhan, along with the twists added by Asvattama, Shikandi and Dhrstyadymn make it a brilliant read. The Draupadi-Krishna relationship over the years has been analysed as platonic, brother-sister love. In the book Panchali and Govinda have an unrequited love which ends up being the first innocent victim in the race power. That is my favorite twist.

Krishna Udayasankar is an Indian best selling author from Bangalore, India. She has also authored Objects Of Affection and The Aryavarta Chronicles (Book – 1): Govinda.

I happened to read both the books in quick succession, and now I can barely wait for the third one. In all the reconstructions and de constructions of the Mahabharata, Krishna Udayasankar’s The Aryavarta Chronicles are my favourites.

Rating: 4.5/5

Book Review: The Aryavarta Chronicles book 1: Govinda

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the-aryavarta-chronicles-govinda-book-1-400x400-imadbcvmavmfczmf

Author: Krishna Udayasankar
Publisher: Hachette India
ISBN13: 9789350094464
Genre: Fiction
Pages: 472
Source: Flipkart

Govinda is the first book of the Aryavarta Chronicles. It is an ancient Indian mythology series. It is de constructed re-telling of The Mahabharata.
Aryavarta – the ancient realm of the noble. For generations, the Firstborn dynasty of scholar-sages, descendants of Vasishta Varuni and protectors of the Divine Order on earth, have dominated. For just as long, the Angirasa family of Firewrights, weapon-makers to the kings and master inventors, have defied them. In the aftermath of the centuries-long conflict Aryavarta gets divided into several kingdoms.
When the last Secret Keeper of the Firewrights is dead, killed by a violent hand, and the battle for supreme power in the empire is inevitable. As mighty powers march towards a bloody conflict, Govinda Shauri, cowherd prince and  Commander of the armies of Dwaraka, must use all his abilities including that of deception and treachery to protect his people.

This book is woven around the Mahabharata saga but manages to take it surpass the divinity of saga and makes a simpler socio-political story. The main characters stay the same, only here Krishna is more predominant in Govinda. The author makes the charachter of Govinda more real and thus more believable. Taking magic out and portraying him as a man, not god yet keep the enigma intact makes you understand Krishna a little more.
Even though the core story cannot be played around with much, the author adds flavour by her explanations and reasoning behind plots and situations.

The author Krishna Udayasankar is a graduate of the NLSIU, Bangalore and holds a PhD in Strategic Management from the Nanyang Business School, Singapore, where she is presently working as a lecturer. Her other works include Objects of Affection, a full-length collection of poetry and has been the editor of Body Boundaries: The Etiquette Anthology of Women’s Writing.

Humanising a saga as epic as the Mahabharata could have worked in many ways. Looking at Gods devoid of magic, walking the earth as mere mortals isn’t how some people would like their stories to be. But it works perfectly for me. Its makes its easier to explore character relationships in a different light. The research is thorough and extensive, the twist add the much needed flavour, making it a fantastic read.

Rating: 4/5

 

Phenomenal Woman

Posted in Thinking Aloud by

pia2

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Winds of Change

Posted in Thinking Aloud by

pia1

“When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes.” These lines by Paulo Coelho changed the way I looked at change.
Some changes happen in small doses, one moment at a time. Others happen all at once. Changes shake us and shatter us, even scare us. Stepping out of the secure zone might be scary but holding onto something that is good for you now, may be the very reason why you don’t have something better. Incredible change happens in life when you decide to take control of what you do have. Some changes look negative on the face but you will soon you realize that space is being created in your life for things that should be. Luck is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice. Making that choice might trigger a change, that change is what is going to set things right. Change doesn’t destroy, it creates.
The winds of change are audacious, they will blow whether you like it or not. The best thing is to do is adjust your sails and get ready for the ride!

Pretty Little Secret

Posted in Leaving Contrails by

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His favourite mornings began with a message from her. Even the harmless “good morning” jump started his day with a smile. On days she didn’t message, everything seemed wrong with the world.  He had known her for a short while but it seemed like an eternity. They had become good friends over a period of time. He watched her work her way through the day, hiding is stares between causal conversations. He hoped his eyes didn’t betray him and give away what he had been hiding.
He saw her through the window. She was impatiently looking into her phone. She was waiting for him. All he wanted to do was sweep her off her feet and take her in his arms. Instead he stood at a distance, watching her. Stealing a moment as he filled his eyes with images of her.
He wished he could tuck the errant strand of hair that kept troubling her. He wished he could freeze the smile that curved on her lips. He wished he could kiss her forehead, and wipe all her worries away. He wished to be the reason of her happiness. He wished he could tell her what she meant to him.
He sighed as he walked up to her.
She smiled as she saw him, his heart skipped a beat. She was complaining about him being late, but he couldn’t take his off her earring that kept kissing her cheek. He cleared his throat and apologised. She kept talking, telling him everything that happened along with everything that could have happened, questioning him with her big eyes when he didn’t respond. He shook his head and replied to her. The sun kept crawling to meet the western horizon as their chats went on, then it was the the time of the day he hated the most. Time for her to go back into her world, and for him to come back into his.
They would spend the whole day talking yet he would miss her when she was gone. He would look at her pictures when she wasn’t there, making him feel her presence around him. He would replay the stories she would tell him, imagining himself with her in them. He would wait all night for it to be morning, just so he could see her again. She was the last thought in his mind before he slept and the first after he woke up. He wondered if she thought of him sometimes the way he thought of her. He wondered is she would let him do, all that he wanted to.
She was pretty and she was smart, she was perfect like a piece of art. She was everything a girl should be. The only thing she wasn’t was that, she wasn’t his.
“Why am I afraid to lose you, when you aren’t even mine” he thought aloud.
The thought troubled him for a bit, but he pushed it away. He didn’t care who she belonged to, cause no one could take her thoughts away from him.
She was and would always be his pretty little secret.

Sandstorms

Posted in Thinking Aloud by

woman

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and walk through it, step by step. There’s no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That’s the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.
And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.

Beautiful

Posted in Thinking Aloud by

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The most beautiful people are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These people have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.
Beauty can be consoling, disturbing, sacred, profane; it can be exhilarating, appealing, inspiring, chilling. It can affect us in an unlimited variety of ways. Beauty demands to be noticed; it speaks to us directly like the voice of an intimate friend.
There is nothing more rare, nor more beautiful, than a woman being unapologetically herself; comfortable in her perfect imperfection. That is the true essence of beauty.

Meet me

Posted in Paper Planes by

man

Meet me in an old book store, where the scent of pages harks back to the time when people used to live what they read.
Meet me on a rough grassy path in the park, where people used to walk to breathe, where there is a scent of wilderness to keep.
Meet me on the footsteps of a rainbow dream, where the colours are from your laughter, and where you find angels in the depths of your sleep.
Meet me on a cobblestoned street, where once mighty armies marched to a beat, where bugles sounded even in retreat.
Meet me on the strains of a guitar, where the rhythm lives inside you even as it hits you from afar.
Meet me in the rhythm of a song, when they play majestic violins as they sweep over the sea, where the only ones dancing are you & me.
Meet me in a poem, where the words are woven in a symphony, of timeless desire, of poignant pain and sighs of delight.
Meet me on a piece of paper, where timeless ink has left its mark, where the music is written but the song has yet to start.

re blogged from a very dear friend’s blog http://wilderverses.blogspot.in/

I want..

Posted in Thinking Aloud by

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I want to see you.

Know your voice.

Recognize you when you
first come around the corner.

Sense your scent when I come
into a room you’ve just left.

Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.

Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.

I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
“more”