So, vacation again!!! N I guess I must blog at least now...
Anyway, after nearly a year of being around, I ve finally given in to popular demand n changed d layout... I remember tat dis had been the first suggestion/comment.. N somehow, I never tot twas necessary to change it.. But, a walk at IITM last evening, (when i was lost in thoughts as usual) somehow gave me enlightenment n i tot- "Why not change?"
I must admit I found it difficult to part wid my favourite sunset n d black background! But den, I had to give in... After al, wats d point writin a blog, if oders cant read it?!!
So, hope dis is more reader friendly...
N ya, abt new posts.. Keep checkin... Doin some interestin ones... They ll be up soon...
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Sunday, April 6, 2008
A wax lightning!
I look at this world--
a fused mass of millions of candles
Each struggling to kill itself to light the surrounding
Each a flexible statue of wax moulded by predecessors,
waiting to fuse into the great nothingness called "everyone"
Each an epitome of serenity spreading its dull fuzzy light...
And my eyes search for a spark of light
Just a tiny spark, sudden and dangerous,
A spark that could grow into an explosion
or a firework display; but grow, nevertheless
A rebel to stand out of the crowd
and relish the coronation of solitude...
For, centuries spent under the monotonous sun
can't compare with the pleasure granted by a momentary flash of lightning!!
An untimely art critcism of "Time, art and criticism"
After my first attempt at reviewing, here goes another....
Literary reviewing is itself an interesting task. For one thing, u shud read an entire book whether u like it or not. N if u wanna b a good reviewer, u must also b unbiased abt it. Now THAT is a very very difficult thing. Cos it means that, not only shud u remain unaffected by that book, but also by nethin els u mite ve read.. seems sorta humanly impossible... But then, there ve been a lot of such good critics. Neway, most critics take d easier way out n jus express their own opinions. It den rests on d reader to remember the nature of the critic while readin d review so as not to be prejudiced by him.
Anyway, all that banter abt reviewing was to tel u tat im gonna review a short story now.. yes, a short story.. Tat could be a lil interestin cos, reviews are supposed to b shorter than the "reviewed", n since short stories are, by definition, short, my review must b shorter than d story itself, yet must convey all the merits n demerits of d story. Wel, since all dis mite prove to b difficult, I request u not to chk word count etc.. C'mon... blogs are beyond the constraints of usual literature. "They are a new art form", u c... (allusion intended, of course).
N ya, before, u read d review, I suggest u read the story itself. Its too good to miss! :)
The link is:
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/TimeArt.shtml
Ok.. gettn to d review...
Science fiction is a very interestin literary form. While, on the one hand, it tells of the possibilities of science, positive or negative (so much that, it mite even b a wake up cal that awakens us to d dangers of science that v mite possibly ve overlooked); on the other, it confers the story, the one element unique to all short story writing--- the twist, or in dis case, the horror.
Neway, in science fiction, if the story can keep u dumbfounded for one minute, if it can make u forget urself n remain immersed in horror, the story can be written off as successful. (Remembr those Isaac Asimov ones that made u think abt em for d next half an hour n fear for d world???)
In this manner alone, "Time, art n criticism" is among the best stories ever written.
For a short summary of the story, Taran Vechery is a "temporal engineer" who has recently entered both Earth (after 65 years on a starship) and the world of art, with his innovative "temporal sculpture". This is defined as an object having a time frame different from our own, and oscillating wrt our own time.... Thus as we move ahead in time, (which we forever do anyway!), the object ages, then "de-ages"(meanin it goes back in time), repeatedly. Of course, this bein an entirely new medium of expression, Vechery expects the art world to turn around and look at him. However, he is left with no time(!) for that, as the "sun of the art world", De Soliel, trashes his piece. Vechery doesn't lose hope n continues to produce better stuff, only to be rejected by De Soliel. The grand finale?????? Ill leave it for u to discover!!! ;) Its too good to be revealed....
Neway, der re oder appreciable aspects to a story, such as language, expressions, n as De Soliel puts it, the "human element"! Going in that order, the language that the writer has used is one important factor for the success of the story. By mentioning the use of a "watch tatoo", "shuttleport", etc, the author has transferred us to the future indeed! (Tho, i'd say, some of his efforts are too obviously pronounced; it becomes quite obvious to the reader that he has used them to emphasize future tense!)
Special kudos for the statement- ' "O,sorry", he said, not sounding it! ' .... Beautiful piece of sarcasm....
Incidentally, the story is sorta poetic. The way time marches back and forth, and how the tree goes into spring when De Soliel arrives and is back in autumn when he leaves. Seems to reflect the mood... N his use of celestial objects in so many places... "Sun of criticism", picking up "satellites" etc.. Quite commendable..
N his statement about artists taking time to understand themselves... how true!!
N ya, about the "human element", there certainly is a great deal of it in this story.
The character of Gardine is also well depicted. An ordinary yet honest man, and hence with no fan following... :) Amusing...
However, unlike real life, Vechery doesn lose hope, even in the worst of circumstances, and the determination shown by him is almost inspiring. It also reflects his innocence in trusting the talent and integrity of De Soliel.
Literary reviewing is itself an interesting task. For one thing, u shud read an entire book whether u like it or not. N if u wanna b a good reviewer, u must also b unbiased abt it. Now THAT is a very very difficult thing. Cos it means that, not only shud u remain unaffected by that book, but also by nethin els u mite ve read.. seems sorta humanly impossible... But then, there ve been a lot of such good critics. Neway, most critics take d easier way out n jus express their own opinions. It den rests on d reader to remember the nature of the critic while readin d review so as not to be prejudiced by him.
Anyway, all that banter abt reviewing was to tel u tat im gonna review a short story now.. yes, a short story.. Tat could be a lil interestin cos, reviews are supposed to b shorter than the "reviewed", n since short stories are, by definition, short, my review must b shorter than d story itself, yet must convey all the merits n demerits of d story. Wel, since all dis mite prove to b difficult, I request u not to chk word count etc.. C'mon... blogs are beyond the constraints of usual literature. "They are a new art form", u c... (allusion intended, of course).
N ya, before, u read d review, I suggest u read the story itself. Its too good to miss! :)
The link is:
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/TimeArt.shtml
Ok.. gettn to d review...
Science fiction is a very interestin literary form. While, on the one hand, it tells of the possibilities of science, positive or negative (so much that, it mite even b a wake up cal that awakens us to d dangers of science that v mite possibly ve overlooked); on the other, it confers the story, the one element unique to all short story writing--- the twist, or in dis case, the horror.
Neway, in science fiction, if the story can keep u dumbfounded for one minute, if it can make u forget urself n remain immersed in horror, the story can be written off as successful. (Remembr those Isaac Asimov ones that made u think abt em for d next half an hour n fear for d world???)
In this manner alone, "Time, art n criticism" is among the best stories ever written.
For a short summary of the story, Taran Vechery is a "temporal engineer" who has recently entered both Earth (after 65 years on a starship) and the world of art, with his innovative "temporal sculpture". This is defined as an object having a time frame different from our own, and oscillating wrt our own time.... Thus as we move ahead in time, (which we forever do anyway!), the object ages, then "de-ages"(meanin it goes back in time), repeatedly. Of course, this bein an entirely new medium of expression, Vechery expects the art world to turn around and look at him. However, he is left with no time(!) for that, as the "sun of the art world", De Soliel, trashes his piece. Vechery doesn't lose hope n continues to produce better stuff, only to be rejected by De Soliel. The grand finale?????? Ill leave it for u to discover!!! ;) Its too good to be revealed....
Neway, der re oder appreciable aspects to a story, such as language, expressions, n as De Soliel puts it, the "human element"! Going in that order, the language that the writer has used is one important factor for the success of the story. By mentioning the use of a "watch tatoo", "shuttleport", etc, the author has transferred us to the future indeed! (Tho, i'd say, some of his efforts are too obviously pronounced; it becomes quite obvious to the reader that he has used them to emphasize future tense!)
Special kudos for the statement- ' "O,sorry", he said, not sounding it! ' .... Beautiful piece of sarcasm....
Incidentally, the story is sorta poetic. The way time marches back and forth, and how the tree goes into spring when De Soliel arrives and is back in autumn when he leaves. Seems to reflect the mood... N his use of celestial objects in so many places... "Sun of criticism", picking up "satellites" etc.. Quite commendable..
N his statement about artists taking time to understand themselves... how true!!
N ya, about the "human element", there certainly is a great deal of it in this story.
The way Vechery has been depicted is quite touching. Our hearts automatically overflow with pity for him. The unrecognised genius has always been one of life's greatest tragedies.. How many masterpieces of creation are born in this world, who die unrecognised, just bcos ppl around are too mediocre to recognise them!!!
His analysis of the eternal conflict between artists and engineers is also quite insightful. It is pretty well known that most artists reject the idea of science being beautiful as a sorta comic joke. N Vechery's explanation is quite interesting - Do they refuse to recognise it cos it is beyond their understanding?? Or are engineers really (he)artless??
The character of Gardine is also well depicted. An ordinary yet honest man, and hence with no fan following... :) Amusing...
However, unlike real life, Vechery doesn lose hope, even in the worst of circumstances, and the determination shown by him is almost inspiring. It also reflects his innocence in trusting the talent and integrity of De Soliel.
N of course, the best part of the story--- Vechery's answer!! Haunting as it mite be, it is also the best reply he could ve given under those circumstances.... And no amount of praise can match the ingenuity of the writer in creating this climax!
N abt d human element, dis review s already overflowin, y not keep it for some oder time??!! :)Monday, March 31, 2008
A week to go!!!
For some time now, I ve been trying to write a(nother) review... as usual, couldn't find enuf time to complete it... So, tot ll get back to postin oder stuff... N the review ll follow soon(er or later ;) )...
April has always been an awessum month. Apart from the personal value it has got for me, and the fact that the first day s fulla unforgettable pranks, it has always been the "vacation month", somethin that irrefutably makes it the best! :D (Of course, May is also part of the summer vac, but wen at school, by the time May sauntered into existence, we d ve got tired of the holidays n wud greet every frnd wid an "Im so bored", n start longin for school again... ). N yes, I could also quote Shakespeare on April, but lets skip the obvious...
April is also the month of a few great birthdays (:P), starting from Sophie Germain (mathematician) to Jackie Chan and Pandit Ravi Shankar, and Prophet Mohammad, to ChandraBabu Naidu and Adolf Hitler... There is more to comment on the similarities and difrnzes between these ppl etc. However, it would only sound like the "distinguish between"s that we fill our papers wid... so lets skip that too...
The fact that i want to throw light on is the life of a particular great person whose b'day is seven days from now.
On the 7th of April, years ago, a man was born, a genius of an intransigent mind, and probably infinite talent; a highly egotistical and self absorbed man; not a loner per se, but someone absorbed in an intriguing solitude; (very typical of geniuses, eh?) a man whose eyes sparkled with intelligence and pride, but one who had time to observe the tiny details and pen some of the most beautiful romantic (I mean romanticism and not mushy poems!) literature one can ever read... On April 7, 1770, William Wordsworth, the poet who wrote some of the most beautiful English verses, and launched the Romantic Movement, was born in England. And more than 2 centuries later, he lives on in those innumerable dog-eared poetry books (and the webpages, of course!) With Nittfest round the corner, I may not find time to post somethin on him next week... N hence, with a week to go for April 7, I remember him in advance. Wat follows is a short recap of his verses, ones that i found the most memorable and beautiful...
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance...
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
.........
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more...
(Daffodils...)
The world is too much with us;
(The world is too much with us)
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
(Ode on intimations of immortality)
And of course, the truly immortal ones.....
My voice proclaims
How exquisitely the individual Mind
(And the progressive powers perhaps no less
Of the whole species) to the external World
Is fitted:--and how exquisitely, too,
Theme this but little heard of among Men,
The external World is fitted to the Mind . . .
(Prospectus to the Recluse)
(P.S:- I found a very interesting discussion on wordsworth at the foll link... chk it out!!! -
http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/the_tls/article2779499.ece)
April has always been an awessum month. Apart from the personal value it has got for me, and the fact that the first day s fulla unforgettable pranks, it has always been the "vacation month", somethin that irrefutably makes it the best! :D (Of course, May is also part of the summer vac, but wen at school, by the time May sauntered into existence, we d ve got tired of the holidays n wud greet every frnd wid an "Im so bored", n start longin for school again... ). N yes, I could also quote Shakespeare on April, but lets skip the obvious...
April is also the month of a few great birthdays (:P), starting from Sophie Germain (mathematician) to Jackie Chan and Pandit Ravi Shankar, and Prophet Mohammad, to ChandraBabu Naidu and Adolf Hitler... There is more to comment on the similarities and difrnzes between these ppl etc. However, it would only sound like the "distinguish between"s that we fill our papers wid... so lets skip that too...
The fact that i want to throw light on is the life of a particular great person whose b'day is seven days from now.
On the 7th of April, years ago, a man was born, a genius of an intransigent mind, and probably infinite talent; a highly egotistical and self absorbed man; not a loner per se, but someone absorbed in an intriguing solitude; (very typical of geniuses, eh?) a man whose eyes sparkled with intelligence and pride, but one who had time to observe the tiny details and pen some of the most beautiful romantic (I mean romanticism and not mushy poems!) literature one can ever read... On April 7, 1770, William Wordsworth, the poet who wrote some of the most beautiful English verses, and launched the Romantic Movement, was born in England. And more than 2 centuries later, he lives on in those innumerable dog-eared poetry books (and the webpages, of course!) With Nittfest round the corner, I may not find time to post somethin on him next week... N hence, with a week to go for April 7, I remember him in advance. Wat follows is a short recap of his verses, ones that i found the most memorable and beautiful...
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance...
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
.........
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more...
(Daffodils...)
The world is too much with us;
(The world is too much with us)
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
(Ode on intimations of immortality)
And of course, the truly immortal ones.....
My voice proclaims
How exquisitely the individual Mind
(And the progressive powers perhaps no less
Of the whole species) to the external World
Is fitted:--and how exquisitely, too,
Theme this but little heard of among Men,
The external World is fitted to the Mind . . .
(Prospectus to the Recluse)
(P.S:- I found a very interesting discussion on wordsworth at the foll link... chk it out!!! -
http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/the_tls/article2779499.ece)
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Solitude...
This room is filled with darkness,
and so is my racing heart-Not so void, yet empty!
The silence swallows the heavy air,
I wait, and wait, but no answer from you!
I wait for the sound of a voice,
not sweet but soothing;
My pen seems to reply to the rustle of leaves
and the silence whispers long lost secrets
in a sadly unintelligible language!
Now, I can hear the stars twinkle and the flowers bloom-
I only thank you for leaving me alone
To savour the eloquence of this silent solitude!
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