Everything Else Is Rubble

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The administrative office in front of the main building. In this age of endless information, I sometimes pause and realize something strange. I am drowning in information, but starving for memories. Every day, my mind absorbs hundreds of headlines, messages, videos, opinions, and notifications. Most of them vanish without a trace. Yet when I stop for a moment, memories from forty years ago return with astonishing clarity. Today, for some reason, my thoughts wandered back to my school and its teachers. I remember my kindergarten teacher, Ms. Carol at Little Angels. She was Anglo-Indian, impeccably dressed, and absolutely determined that every letter I wrote should sit neatly within the four lines of my notebook. Not touching the ceiling. Not falling through the floor. Perfectly contained. I don't remember what I had for lunch three days ago. But I remember those four lines. My first-grade teacher, Ms. Alice at BP Indian Public School, was...
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Kane and Abel

A flight journey has never had the charm to hold me onto something interesting or something that I can look forward to. It has always been a careless "Oh no! yet another" attitude that drives me to boredom. In yet another long journey flight from St. Louis to Seattle, I just wondered at what I should be doing to satisfy my seven hours including the transit time at Chicago. A copy of Kane and Abel lying in one of the many corners wedged in my room caught my attention. I have read that book previously but that did not prevent me from reading the same thing again. As the saying goes, "Something is better than nothing" takes an all important meaning when you really have nothing.

Flipping through the pages of the book, yes, that's what I remember. A second time reading does not generally fascinate me unless the book is really good. Kane and Abel had me in raptures when I had read it first time during my undergraduate days. I would rate it as one of my all time favourite novels by any author. Since then, the fantastic portrayal of two powerful and contrasting, yet strikingly similar characteristics of two different persona never ceased to fascinate me. Jeffrey Archer had it in him to get the reader hooked to eternity. Now, when I was reading the book years later, though the basic plot remained within me, I was still reading the intricate details with the same avid enthusiasm and alacrity. There were sentences that bowled me over and I made it a point to remember them for life. There were inspiring moments that rattled me from within even though I knew what was coming. Jeffrey Archer narrates the lives of two highly powerful characters, one a hotelier and an other, a banker, both of whom are highly capable having led totally contrasting lives, one rising from rags to riches through sheer determination and hard work, and the other, having all the necessary facilities to fulfill his father's dream, achieves whatever he plans to as if following a script. Their struggles, their quest to the top, their inspiration, their independence and their achievements form the backdrop of this brilliantly written book. Anything more than this will surely be a giveaway! The pleasure of sitting in a plane with a book is phenomenal when you have the right book with no disturbance. Long distance travel takes care of the latter part. There were many a time when I felt like racing through fifty pages to find out what happens to the character, and unknowingly, many an emotion within me stirred up. AR Rahman's tunes in the background provided the perfect setting for a wonderful journey.

My onward journey enabled me to finish the book and my stay in Seattle was just the perfect way of taking a well-deserved break.

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