When Breath Becomes Air, by Paul Kalanithi

I'm pretty sure that the book is already doing the rounds, in forms of 'one of the best reads of 2016,' 'this is a personal favorite,' 'you should totally read this book,' 'a friend keeps telling me that this is an amazing book' and so on. Yet, I would like to add my pitch too. 

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"When Breath Becomes Air" is a book where language meets science, life meets death, and dreams take a reckoning. 

“Science may provide the most useful way to organize empirical, reproducible data, but its power to do so is predicated on its inability to grasp the most central aspects of human life: hope, fear, love, hate, beauty, envy, honor, weakness, striving, suffering, virtue.”

Paul Kalanithi had it all, only to have everything stripped away from him in return for a terminal illness. The neurosurgeon-turned-writer was one of a rare breed, the kind that grasped both physics and literature; one who relentlessly pursued the meaning of life both disciplines had to offer; a humane soul aspiring to understand death and finally left out there naked, to grapple with it; an indomitable spirit who weaved his way through, brilliantly playing the cards that life dealt him. 

“Will having a newborn distract from the time we have together?" she asked. "Don't you think saying goodbye to your child will make your death more painful?"
"Wouldn't it be great if it did?" I said. Lucy and I both felt that life wasn't about avoiding suffering.”

Despite being only a 200-page read, "When Breath Becomes Air" is heavy. It holds the astounding thoughts that were formed and contemplated in a brilliant mind after meeting its nemesis up close. The pages introduce poetic phrases into the walls of an operating room, and take us through the life-shattering stages that Paul and his family went through. Be ready to be amazed!

Handpicked Quotes

“I don’t believe in the wisdom of children, nor in the wisdom of the old. There is a moment, a cusp, when the sum of gathered experience is worn down by the details of the living. We are never so wise as when we live in the moment.”

“Human knowledge is never contained in one person. It grows from the relationships we create between each other and the world, and still it is never complete.”  

“In taking up another’s cross, one must sometimes get crushed by the weight.”

“There must be a way, I thought, that language of life as experienced-- of passion, of hunger, of love-- bore some relationship, however convoluted, to the language of neurons, digestive tracts, and heartbeats.”

“You can’t ever reach perfection, but you can believe in an asymptote toward which you are ceaselessly striving.”

 Link to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25899336-when-breath-becomes-air

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twaiku #2

Burning with anger, I storm off
vowing never to do it again.

Today, there is no anger left,
it is the memories that burn.

I would do it all over again.

|| love - hate ||

twaiku #1

Fate, destinies, and prophecies,
they are mankind's make-believe, you say;

then, why did the stars shine
brighter the day we met,
turning my sky into a
thousand burning suns?

- you are my sunshine

What you left behind

You created an ocean for me,

And taught me to swim.

Then, you left me waddling.

You tended a forest for me,

And took me for a stroll.

Then, you left me wandering.

You stoked up a fire in me,

And filled me with warmth.

Then, you left me burning.

You took me to a new world,

And rained it with love.

Then, you left me yearning.

What's your bright place?!

I'm not going to lie. The blog title is not original. I stole it from a book that I read a week ago, titled 'All the Bright Places.' Yes, the book is for young adults and no, I am not ashamed to be a fan of that genre. In fact, I am a proud enthusiast because the YA community introduced me to some of my all-time favorites, The Book Thief, The Fault in our Stars, A Wrinkle in Time, To Kill a Mockingbird, Wonder, Lord of the Flies, Harry Potter, and Anne Frank. However, 'All the Bright Places' as such wasn't a very bright book. On second thought, it wasn't bright at all. It was rather depressing and I felt downright miserable after finishing it. Mainly since it revolves around two teens with high suicidal tendencies, out of which one ends own life [That's right, it is a spoiler!]. You see, it is not a book you could easily recommend to someone you know. What if that someone you know was already depressed and this book was all it took to push them off the ledge? So, whenever someone, whom you suspect of depression, corners you for a book suggestion, 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' is always the wisest choice. Mostly because towards the end, the gloomy protagonist chooses to participate in 'life' instead of letting go.

Anway, enough about books, depression, and booknerd problems. Let's focus on the title - All the Bright Places. It is what prompted me to buy the book in the first place. I really really loved the phrase and it kind of stuck with me. Even after a week of having finished the book, the title was still in the back of my mind. Over the last few early mornings and late nights, the title evolved into a question - 'What is my bright place in life?' It piqued my interest, urging me to recognize all the places that held warmth and sunshine for me. 

That is when I realized how lucky I was because for me, brightness comes not just from one place, but many. There are my family and friends, who shine on me like the Sun, giving me my life's light and stability. Next, there is solitude, the fire that burns away my social mask and highlights my naked soul. I cautiously contain this fire by my side, letting it not devour the whole of my existence. Then there are books, the magical stars that dot my sky in millions, adding radiance to my abstractness. There is also writing, which comes and goes, illuminating my world like an unpredictable flash of lightning. Finally, there is the seldom celebrated-undisturbed-dreamless sleep, that adds a glow to my face like the firefly's gleam. My world glimmers like a diamond, with all these heavenly places around me. They are my life's beacons, tethering me to my world and adding meaning to the years I cross. And when there are days I feel downcast, they mean only one thing. I haven't been visiting my bright places as often as needed. Because, it is light that shies away darkness, both from within and out. 

Like Dumbledore once said, "Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light." Or, if we know just where to look. All of us have our own shades of brightness. Be it a blinding beam or a fluorescent flicker, it is just one tiny light wave that is required to turn the tables of hope and dispel doom. So, know all the bright places in your life and keep visiting them :)

After You - Afterthoughts

After You, by Jojo Moyes

4.5 stars.. [Contains spoilers from the 3rd para]

I had been holding back from reading 'After You' for a long time, what with all the resentful ratings, anger-from-being-let-down reviews, and disappointed fans. 'Me Before You' is a special book in my life, as in a lot of people's, and I did not want it all taken away from me due to a mere sequel. Soon, I felt I had to find out what happened to Lou, purely in order to have my own opinion when everyone out there was lamenting how Moyes had spoiled it for all of them. As Moyes's loyal fan, I felt I should be at her side, fighting and warding off the pathetic reviewers. 

So, let me tell you, there's nothing wrong with the book. Yes, I know, Me Before You was magical. It created this totally different world for Lou and Will. But, can we please stop comparing that with this. In the words of Moyes, “You don't have to let that one thing be the thing that defines you.” In fact, After You is perfect in its own way. The book sets the pace right from the initial pages and begins playing those visual scenes in your head. That is Moyes's specialty among all things. The ability to effortlessly turn the book into a movie in your mind. I also remember 'One Plus One' being vividly visual and pleasant.

Moyes always adds multiple sub-plots for different characters, just to ensure that everyone's personality profiles get etched in our hearts; that every character has their own story which we'll remember whenever we talk about the book. Moyes has done the same this time too. The repeat characters in this sequel are exactly how they were in the first book, including Mrs. and Mr. Traynor, Treena, Josie and Bernard Clark, and Nathan. As usual, Moyes has detailed the new characters intricately beautiful and in a way that speaks to us. In addition, she paves new roads for everyone, which they tread for the first time. Like how Mr. Traynor begins a new life after the divorce and how Josie Clark discovers feminism out of the blue from Treena's academia. 

Now, the story! Before we delve into it, let me first make a point here. Will and Lou are basically different in two ways, which makes them polar opposites. While both of them are capable of loving very deeply, Will is selfish; puts own welfare first; and loves himself against all odds. On the other hand, Lou is selfless and puts everyone else first. Secondly, Will is secure and spontaneous at the same time. The moment he feels like traveling, he can fly to the remotest part of the globe and plop down to sleep in a motel as comfortably as in his home. But, Lou is different. Lou draws security from the people that surround her. She loves the stability of a home. She likes the familiarity. Even if she had the material means, she will not travel or constantly move. However, when Will urges her to travel the world as his last wish, she takes the leap of faith, willing herself to believe that she would enjoy the things that Will enjoyed doing. That is where After You picks up, with Lou's travel diaries. Like I expected, Moyes gently unravels Lou's base character to us in the sequel, how she is actually different from Will in all things possible and how there is no way she can survive these spur-of-the-moment travel plans. So, we eventually find Lou making her way back again to where she started. I really loved that :) Lou is Lou and Moyes hasn't forgotten that.

Now, two new characters: Lily and Sam. Surprisingly, Lily (Will's you-know-who) did not make even the tiniest impact on me. In actuality, none at all. Despite her character being amazingly detailed, I never could warm up to her. Believe me, I really tried. Maybe because, the book did not have time to show off Lily's good side. In Me Before You, Will was a jerk and then, Lou's hero. Here, Lily's a jerk and it just kind of stops there. But, I loved Sam. Much more than Will. He is just what Lou needs and it makes me happy :) I do accept, Sam's character is not too strongly out there in the book since he's a very gentle and silent bloke. But, now that Sam and Lou are together, I would like to know Sam much better and I daresay it is time for the next book, titled, 'You, Me and Us.' Lou's life still needs closure for me. I want concrete evidence that she's going to be happy the rest of her life, without any major disasters and hazards.

Apart from that, Lou's family is the chaotic mess as it had always been and I laughed myself heartily through those moments. I also teared up when Josie and Bernard get together after their fight and when the members of the Moving On circle share two-liners about their lost loves and let go of balloons. I was immensely happy when Lou let her balloon go, figuratively :)

Finally, 'After You' will never be magical if you keep comparing it with 'Me Before You' and never give it a chance. Allow the book to make an impact and only then it will :)

“It is important not to turn the dead into saints. Nobody can walk in the shadow of a saint.”

The Nightingale - Afterthoughts

The Nightingale

by Kristin Hannah

"They can break your body, but they can never break your soul and spirit."

'The Nightingale' becomes another addition to the list of painful stories I have read till now. Set in France, it talks about two sisters, and how they unfold when the World War II strikes; how people can be starkly different in the way they respond to the cruelties; how great wars bring out both the best and the worst in everyone; how war shows that all of us are fragile except for our spirit; how there never is enough time for us to be with our beloved ones and we realize it only later on; how it is our choice whether to fight or just survive the war; how we never care to understand that we cannot get by life all alone; finally, how it is always our choice whether to fight or just survive the war; how, at the end of a war, those who were in it are left only with a shadow of themselves. 

The book begins slow and patience is key to get to the best part. It definitely was a challenge to keep reading but soon, I was reading through parts that were built from deep hurt and irrevocable losses, which were so overwhelming to read and yet I kept on at it. The Nazis; the Third Reich; picturesque France overtaken; the Vichy government giving up; the billeting; requisition orders; curfews; yellow stars; deportations; assaults and abuses; concentration camps; the holocaust. But, beyond all the above, there's also unquenchable patriotism; unbreakable bonds; unstoppable mutinies; admirable bravado; courage under fire; sisterhood tales; beautiful moments.

By the time I finished reading this, I couldn't hold back tears and knew that humanity is cursed. Every little bit of redemption that we seek, it is soiled with shame and guilt. So, if you are a person who loves to read about the WWII or strong female protagonists or a story of love and loss, The Nightingale is definitely a good choice.

In love we find out who we want to be.

In war we find out who we are.

Here's to LIFE!

Here's to mellow Mondays,

larger-than-life goals,
passionate pursuits,
and all-nighters.

To kindred minds,
intelligent talks,
compassionate hearts,
and good deeds.

To soul-deep connections,
patient loves,
tender moments,
and unbreakable bonds.

To tight-knit families,
encouraging support systems,
shared secrets,
and proud legacies.

To unquenchable wanderlust,
earned vacations,
long-awaited trips,
and captured memories.

To treasured company,
leisurely evening strolls,
sun-kissed pavements,
and amazing sea views.

To abstract thoughts,
good books,
rainy days,
and hot coffees.

To Sunday sleep ins,
lazy brunches,
movie marathons,
and silent dinner dates.

Here's to LIFE!

- Anusha

MiniQuote Collection - Week 4

Birthday parties, fun games, and sore losers.

18th August, 2001

Today was not a day like any other. It was my birthday, marking the completion of my 10th year on this planet. Well, not just that. It was also the birthday with "the final birthday party." "We will host no more birthday parties from now on, since you have become a big girl," my mother had told me when we were out making purchases. So, I was determined to make an amazing memory out of it.

Even today,

I still remember every bit of the fun my friends and I had during the party. First, it was the pre-party etiquette. The picture of me, snugly dressed, waiting eagerly by the door for my friends to arrive; escorting them inside, to meet my parents and exchange pleasantries; my mother sending me back from the kitchen with a 10"x10" serving tray with glasses of chilled Rasna, that dangerously clinked against each other as I walked; me slyly eyeing the glossy gift boxes in their hands while they drank.

PC: Toddler Party Games

Then came the official party amusement, usually kicking off with light-hearted games. Ah, the games in a classic birthday party! Musical chairs, Pop the balloon, Dog and the bone, Dodgeball, Straws and gems, Queen of Sheba, Odd one out. I could keep going on. Such a vintage collection. One after other we would play them all, until our energy maxed out for the day and our faces turned pink and shiny. Remember the moral support? The glorious uproar from our friends if we transferred all the 25 Cadbury gems from one bowl to another in less than a minute; the hugs from your team if you managed to snatch the bone and cross the line without getting tagged; such overwhelming emotions. And the way our heart would jump out and beat in our mouth when we were one of the last two jogging around the final chair. Come to think of it now, I would say musical chair was our childhood version of the IronThrone :) Running around, we silently bide our time and when the music stops, we charge ahead to reserve our right, mercilessly shoving aside even our closest buddies. All for that one final chair!

Yet, amid all this tension, we knew. We always knew. That they were just games and nothing more. When the game ended and the prizes were handed out (furry pencil purses, scented toy erasers, 5rupee chocolates), the first thing we did was share them all. The laughter and merriment never dimmed, not even for a minute. Those were what became memories for me, which I cherish to date.

But today, things have changed. The birthday parties of various nieces and nephews that I attended lately came as a shock. When the games began, it was complete mayhem. Every time a game ended, a kid also ended up crying for losing, or should I say 'not winning.' The parents, instead of giving the sulking kids a different perspective, just soothed them with a few extra cookies, and a 20 minute exclusive break on a smartphone. That did the trick neatly and brought smiles again.

PC: Scholastic

Kids like them in this generation care neither about the game nor the gift. The only thing that matters to them is winning, irrespective of everything. Because winning means they are the best. And being the best gets them more attention around the room. More attention makes them feel more special. Feeling special round the clock is something all of us love and hope for, let alone the children.

This constant need to feel special is common. After all, they are tiny humans figuring out the concept of competition and winning. When they learn from us that winning is better than losing, that is what they tend to pursue eventually. But, while seeking to win is natural, turning into a sore loser in the process is not. Competitiveness in itself is not a negative trait, but one must also be able to take an occasional blow gracefully.

So, when it comes to teaching overly competitive children about healthy spirits, sportiness, graceful losses, and the ability to bounce back again, here are a few questions which need a serious thought, 

Is just calming them down with more treats and fusses the right way?

How do we teach them toughness? In what simple ways?

When is the right time to talk to them about it?

What amount of competition is the right amount of competition for them?
How do we set a good example? 

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P.S: I missed to mention the final as well as the best part of a birthday party: Cake-cutting. Huddled around a tiny table, we would wait for my mom to bring out the creamy cake. With the candles all brightly lit up, and the centuries-old song ready on everyone's lips, I would joyously wield the ribbon-clad plastic knife. As you know, the rest is history :) 

MiniQuote Collection - Week 3

MiniQuote Collection - Week 2

The dream I lost

Last night, you visited me in my dreams. Again.
When the dreams first began, I was not surprised.
I had been waiting for them.
And you came,
with your soft satin white dress flowing and
the flower crown sweet-smelling,
looking truly like the angel you have always been.
I could spot the wild honeysuckles in the crown.
They were your favorite, weren't they? Did you know mine?
It was your rosy cheeks.
They gave you a warm healthy glow,
letting people know you were always loved and cared so dearly.

Even the dreams have not the power
to dim that glow, when you come before me.
Standing there, you look at me and smile.
Once innocent, now the smile knows something.
Slowly, you look down. I follow your eyes.
Where there was ground beneath your lovely feet,
now only dark waters remain, pulling you in.
Claiming you again, to the depths.
"No, please don't. The waters are not friendly.
Walk away from them. Take my hand," I scream.
I can't hear my own voice.
I try lending my hand. But, I can hardly reach you.
You are in a far-off land now. Away from my clutches.
Seconds pass. I scream into the vacuum, unheard.
I blink.

And wake up, my eyes tearing up and hands sweating coldly.
If I can't save you, I never will let myself
see the last of you.
I will keep waking up, and wait for you
to visit me the next night.

You come stand there, every night,
a silent picture of my life's greatest blessing.
Before my eyes, you shy out everyone.
None can be anywhere as amazing as you.
The angelic paleness, the shimmering locks,
full lips parted in curiosity, velvety black eyes,
tender palms. They have all survived the dreamland.
But, it's your heartbeat I don't hear anymore.
The music has stopped. The touch is lost.
A dull heartache is instead in place,
casting a shadow on my reality.

You were always my dream. I waited years.
To have you in my life and take care of you.
But, I returned you to dreams again.
Now, you will never come back.

You, babygirl, are the dream I lost forever.

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The dreams have never changed after that day. I can still perfectly picture the swimming arena and the cherubic 4-year olds in the pool, their arms flailing about in tubes of myriad colors. You loved the pool the first time you set your feet into it. With the ever-so-brimming confidence, you waddled in. People around were taking notice, surprised at the daring 3-year unafraid to take on the deep pool. I was a proud mother there. And I turned to listen to the praises that every other parent had for you. I knew you liked me to recite them to you later on. So, I was carefully making note of them. The devilish waters devoured you right then, behind my head. 

The mistake was mine for I let my attention desert you for a moment. I let you go, and I will never forgive myself for that. The regret of losing you is killing me from the inside. I did not deserve to be your mother, my dearest darling. You were my dream, but I was your nightmare.

MiniQuote Collection - Week 1

Finally, another new project up the sleeves. Planning to come up with a collection of #miniquotes every week. Here's the very first set. Hope you enjoy :)

Foodie Finds #01: French Toast with a dash of maple syrup

No, French toast is not really French, nor are French fries. While the earliest references of the toast can be traced all the way back to ancient Roman times, the fries are said to have originated in a remote Belgian village. So, how exactly did the French stake out a claim on both these tasty-crispy-golden dishes? Well, the Americans are responsible for that. When Joseph French, an American chef recreated the yummy toast in 1724, he decided to name the dish after himself. But, instead of rightly calling it 'French's Toast', he simply named it French toast (Apparently, the grammar nazis were not born yet). And, the potatoes? It goes that the fries were introduced to American soldiers who were camping out in that Belgian village during World War I. Since French was the dominant language in Belgium, the soldiers sneaked in the term 'French' with the fries. There you go!

Now, fun facts aside, French toast on a lazy Sunday morning never fails to lift our spirits up. Throw in a dash of maple syrup, a plate of chicken sausages, and freshly squeezed orange juice, you are blessed. French toast still remains one of the "sweetest" childhood memories for me. Smitten with the dish, I always make it a point even now to order a plate of toast whenever I find a place that offers it.

Recently, I came across Parfait 3 in Velachery and their French Toast is one of the best I have tasted to date. Situated on Taramani road, the tiny place is too easy to miss. Had it not been for a friend who was a regular there and was confident that I would like their continental spread, I would never have set foot in Parfait 3. But, I am glad I did :) Their French toast is totally my idea of perfection, sweetened to just the right stage for my taste buds. Parfait 3 is definitely a decent place to stop by for a peaceful evening snack and they do have quite a heavy menu with an assortment of pastries. 

Have you tried any dishes at Parfait 3 that caught your attention? Or, do you know of a place that's got some wonderful French Toast? Do share :)

Love is not what we think it is.

I do not want to hear anyone preach me about love anymore. I abhor the articles that stack up shallow reasons about why that cute guy may be crazy about me. I am not letting dumb lovey-dovey videos on social sites sway me into fancying a Disney ending for myself. I can now see clearly through the flawless clicks of smiling couples and spot the glaring void between them. I have also begun to shy away from novels that let a man compare a woman's body parts to a backyard orchard. No, I bluntly refuse to pin all my hopes on how every day will be dangerously romantic if you are in love. Seriously, never again! Tripping into these dreamy clouds is not a risk worth taking. You know why? Because, that is not what love is.

When we fall for a person, we imagine, get excited and even fret about how loving that person will introduce a series of ups and downs in the relationship graph. We begin looking forward to the first kiss, fluttery feels, candlelit dinners, heartfelt talks, those long strolls down a meadow. We also set our minds to handle different career choices, mismatch in perspectives, emotional turbulences, the transformation from a couple to a family, financial troubles. Weaving and tackling our way slowly through all this side by side, we think we have what it takes.

But, if truth be told, the highest highs and the lowest lows are only exceptions. It is not the amazing experiences or the rough waters that make or break the belief we put in a relationship. It is the day-to-day life that ultimately puts 'us' through a test. And that is what love is all about - traversing the straight lines after living through the bumps.

In reality, love is mundane. There is no other perfect word for it.

Love is indeed an adventure, but not on all days. Over time, the excitement slowly wears off. Uneventful routines kick in. Fairytale moments suddenly turn plain vanilla. Days become predictable and there is nothing new to experience. The lack of variety begins to drain our minds and eventually, introduces a strain on love itself. Before we realize, a wall of distance and awkward silences creep in between the relaxed evenings spent together. The world of 'us' that was lovingly built slowly becomes two separate islands. We stop reaching out to each other; pass on sharing how our day went; get hurt on the smallest comments; at last, give in to the melancholy.

That is when love dies. It chokes itself on the air of mundanity and withers.

P.S: If you have already realized how different love is from our expectations, then do not give up. Ignore the distractions and keep fighting the occasional distances that butt in. Love is a package with its own odds. Don't opt for just the best stuff. Love each other even in the midst of the mundane :) Enjoy the beauty of being with each other till the end. It may not be as fancy as we wanted it to be, but it will still be the most profound experience of our lifetime.

This post drew inspiration from the age-old thought - "Falling in love is easy; staying in love is not." While this is just one of my takes on love and passion, opinions can definitely differ. Share yours here!

Shantaram - Afterthoughts

SHANTARAM 

by Gregory David Roberts 

One more amazing read!! Initially, the 1000-page dismay kept me from taking up the book for a long time. Then, it just happened and I was reading it. Now, I am glad I did :) In the journey that I have taken up with books, this is the FIRST book that made my hands shiver and set my teeth chattering. No other literary work has made this effect on me - because, Roberts, the author has written every page of Shantaram with death traversing along. After all, the book is centered around a mafia group. 

Set in Bombay, Shantaram is a gripping tale of an Australian convict who escapes a maximum-security prison and enters the Indian city with a fake passport. The slum that he puts up in, the woman whom he falls for, and the mafia don he works for influence the rest of the story.

Breathtaking quotes showcasing denied truths, the dangerous abyss that love and trust hold, the turmoil of existence, thin line of hopes that feed fire to our will, the wrong that we do for the right reasons, redemption that a heart seeks at the end of day, the rotten smell of trait and deceit, the glaringly evident death that every human has to face eventually, the charm of rare luck and instinct bestowed upon a handful, the realization that nothing never really lasts except the soul-deep love for land and women, and the ultimate destination of mankind - the book has it all. 

Go ahead, give it a read!

“The choice you make, between hating and forgiving, can become the story of your life.”