Friday, June 29, 2012

Review of A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry

Wonderful. I admire the writer's ability for being so sensitive to observe things with such fine detailing and then writing it with such fine ability that makes the picture of the events described vivid in front of the reader. I can visualize the events and even the faces of characters in the story by just going through the descriptions that are as near to being visual. The foreword by Honore de Balzac frightens me to imagine that the story of impending misfortunes could be real. But even if it is or it is not, the fact remains that the story would have been utterly boring if not Mr. Mistry had constructed the tale so wonderfully.

Though at times the misfortunes were simply exaggerated. For instance the narration of the suicide of the siblings event was obviously not well thought. How come 3 sisters living in a one-room house commit suicide all at the same time by hanging themselves through a fan? Though if they did it one-by-one, then also the task would have been physically tedious. I dont know if Mr. Mistry has an explanation to that event.

I am sure if not for the beautiful picturesque proses, the story would have been utterly boring. I love it for the narration and style of interlacing the events. I even dream of the sequences described in the novel. And yes, I loved the silent description of the political emergency that is the wonderful backdrop and villain of the entire
story. Cant say anything further to the impact of the book on me.

Friday, November 26, 2010

....

English: Double jointed shoulder blades. Or also known as "Bat wings". (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The way her hands would cut through the pages of the book, the same way my hand wanted to slip into the sleeves of the dress that she would wear. The sight of her holding the book, made me imagine the way I would cup her shoulder blades and sneak my fingers into the sleeves of her dress.

While driving I loved passing through the leaking tank, the wind made the water droplets fall on my face. It reminded me of her. I use to love the way the tiny drops of water from her hair would hit me, I felt lucky to have touched the organics coming directly from her body. I would forget all that was in the page of my book. And would wait in anticipation for the next stream of drops of water to fall directly from her hair to my shoulders, hands, face, nose and then a huge blast on the entire face.