Saturday, June 4, 2016

Holden coufield and me

 Just finished reading 'the catcher in the rye' , The book that I bought after reading some of its extract from goodreads. after reading that one paragraph of the book I could not stop myself from  buying it from amazon.
 Its very simple story by all means yet so complex. To explain the story of the book will not take more than 3-4 sentences yet it tells a lot more than that. I find catcher in the rye a composition of misplaced Christmas vacation which turned out to be part-adventure , part-self realization for Holden Coufield, the protagonist of the book.
Holden seems like any normal guy and you really relate yourself with him , at some points you find his experiences quite relevant to your own experiences and some times you find him too lousy and irritating. He's just any other guy who hates everything about life, is too much obsessed with himself and at the same time thinks himself as a failure . The fact that he blames everyone for his wrongdoings except for himself makes this fictional character look real. He has a bad mouth, he is rebel, he lacks courage, he is under-performer, he doesn't respect others. He's confused, intolerant yet loving and caring. He has bad qualities in abundance and good ones are rare. Holden is a protagonist who no one aspires to be but most end up being. 
 For me his most endearing quality is the way he points out hypocrisy of people. He will, in very few words, show you how people change their stand with changing more thing I love about this character is that he does not have  great expectations from himself neither does he want people around him to expect great things from him. His loving and caring nature is seen when he is with his younger sister. Their relationship is raw and pure. It's just about sibling love and purity of love when there are no expectations. This relationship is steady like a rock and beyond the peripherals of right and wrong. He is just holden for her; good or bad doesn't matter. That's the reason this relationship is most precious thing for holden and he's so protective of it. Holden is one of those people who would  not care for you a bit if he doesn't like you but he'll go out of his way and do everything thats possible for him to keep his loved ones happy.

Basically if I put myself at his place, I'll have almost all bad qualities that he is having. Maybe, like him i judge people every moment and blame them for my own loss,  like him I call everyone phony, like him I respect very few around me. I lack discipline, I lack courage, I lack desire and I lack most things in the world. But unlike him I pretend to not judge,I pretend to respect, I pretend to be disciplined, courageous and desiring. I am not true to myself most of the times and still I expect.
Holden is not a benchmark of goodwill. He is just true to himself and his people ; and I? I need to be.

Monday, September 15, 2014

sometimes love need not be expressed

  I don’t say good bye to people, I prefer to just leave without anyone knowing. It’s easy for me that way (maybe difficult for people around me. I don’t know). Sometimes good-byes are emotional affairs and I can’t stand when when someone gets emotional. I hate myself when I get emotional, forget about others. And it was the time to say good bye to my family not that I was going away from home forever but I had never been on myself before. My great-grandpa who was strictly against my parents for sending me to boarding didn’t come, he didn’t like it. My grandparents were there though; I can’t recall what exactly happened that time but one thing I know is that my grannies cried their hearts out (and me too). My mother was calm. She did not cry. She was calming everybody till we got on our car (me, my mom and my dad). And the journey started.
  I was on backseat, my mom was on front seat and dad was driving. After we left the town she asked me whether she could sit on backseat with me. She started caressing me after she came to backside; we had small talks about my childhood. She was kind of lost in past memories reminding me of silly questions I asked her  when I was small kid , how I refused to go to school , how I bunked it hiding behind our compound wall and how she beat me when  she found out. She remembered how I was insistent on having bicycle when my father said no, how I did not let her go to meet her father once. She was talking of me insisting to pick up phone first every time it rang, screaming all over the house to tell everyone when some guests came, asking to eat ‘Puran’(sweet dish) before ‘naivedya’ is served. And then she smoothly moved to telling me that I have now grown old and should learn to live on myself, do my own work, and should not cry when I don’t get what I want and all. And I was just feeling happy to be with her.
We stopped at a town nearby hostel; my dad asked me whether I need anything. I said no. “Are you sure?” he said.
“yes.”, I replied.
And we were ready to go.
 I think my dad and my great-grandpa (even my grandpa) talked very little about me leaving home and going to hostel. Not that we talked very little; my great-grandpa would tell me a story every evening after he returns from farm. We all kids used to listen it carefully. He used to make it interesting for us and make it sound like an adventure. Then we all used to have dinner. My grandpa(s) on the other hand was my bank. If I needed money for chocolates, for cricket ball, for buying some fancy toy or anything, they were there always. I would ask “I need some money” and they would say “how much?” that was the bond we shared. No reasons asked.
 I used to wait for my dad to come home in the night. We used to have the best time after he came. He would become horse, me the rider and my sister the foal. Jokes, fun and play was all we used to do at home before going to sleep. He would invent a new name for me every day and tease me with it. I used fight with him or sometimes cry. It was all fun.
 So I never had too-little talk kind of equation with any of the man in our family but we hardly said goodbye to each other. My great-grandpa went to farm without meeting me. My grandpa and I hardly talked (except take care and all). My dad and I had very brief interaction till we landed in my hostel. May be they are the reason why I don’t like good bye or why I avoid saying good bye. Maybe we all pretend to be hard and stiff and normal when we are broke or hurt or sad inside. Maybe we want to pretend we are men. But we all know that love is there even if we don’t express it or there is very little need to express it

Monday, September 8, 2014

Not everything Sucks

 Most difficult time was when I learnt that I'll be moving to a boarding and before I actually moved there. I did want to go there initially as my parents had told me many good things like all the great stuff they have in their school like horse-riding, trekking every weekend, fun groups, Hobby-schools and all. I was very excited and telling everybody how much fun I'll have playing football and doing stuffs.
  As the D-day came nearby, it turned out I did not want to go at all. I was too afraid. I did not want to go away from my family; I did not want to go away from my friends, my school. Everything I needed was here and I did not want anything more. I even tried getting sick but it was of no use. And then I started hating everything. I did not play with my friends; I did not talk to anyone (except my great grandpa who was insistent on me not going to boarding school). I was sad and for me everything sucked.
   We are resistant to change even though we want things to happen. It’s not the change that we are scared of but it is the phase of transition that we all want to skip. We want things to be smooth and comfortable every time. What I realized after was that more than me, my family did not want me to go to boarding school. They wanted me to be with them all the time but to them it was necessary for me, maybe my future and they were ready to do everything for my good. More than me it was hard for them to change because more than me their life revolved around us (me, my brother and my sister). And then here I was thinking If they can do it for me , why can't I for myself !
And from that moment NOT everything sucked!

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

First time away from home - First Change

My first time away from home was almost 10 years ago when I left home for boarding school. I can't remember that exact day, I also don't remember how exactly I felt that day except for the part that I was not happy going away from home. I was too young to stay away from home then , only about 14 years old. I knew nothing about outside world , didn't know how to talk to strangers, didn't know how to make friends, didn't know how to take care of people around me , didn't understand the importance of people around me in my life ,and most importantly didn't know how to be on myself .
   I was suddenly in a situation where all these things were required of me. but slowly and steadily I made few new friends. I started to gel with surrounding. Serving meal for the hostel, washing own dishes, sharing biscuits-chiwada-laddoos with  friends, being with friends all the times whether it is good or bad- happy or sad - healthy or sick  and realizing the value of family changed me a bit .As far as I know That must be the first time  I changed , and changed for good .
 There are very few things which are really worth in life: Friends who will make fun of you no matter where you are and what you become in your life. Family who will back you even when you are at lowest point in your life and last, moments you spend with friends and family which will be with you always as memories. The first time you are away from your family, It is time to recollect these memories and knowing their worth.