పుస్తకం.నెట్‍తో మూడో ఏడాది

(నా తెలుగు బ్లాగులో ఫిక్షన్ తప్ప మరేం రాయనని మడి కట్టుకున్నాను. అందుకని ఈ ఆనవాయితీ పోస్టును వాయిదా వేద్దామనుకున్నాను గానీ, నేనెంత పనిదొంగనో ఒప్పుకోవటంలో నాకు బోలెడంత నిజాయితి కూడా ఏడ్చింది కాబట్టి, ఇక్కడ.. ఇలా..)

2011  హోల్ మొత్తంగా వెనక్కి తిరిగి చూసుకుంటే ఉండీ లేనట్టూ, లేకున్నా ఉన్నట్టూ, ఉండడానికి లేకపోవడానికి మధ్యనున్నట్టూ ఏదోదో అనిపిస్తోంది. చేతిలోని పర్సో, మొబైలో "అర్రె.. ఇక్కడే ఉండాలి. ఎక్కడ పోయింద"ని వెతుక్కున్నట్టు ఈ ఏడాదినీ వెతుక్కోవాల్సి వచ్చిందిలే! ఇహ, అందులో మళ్ళీ పుస్తకం.నెట్ విశేషాలంటే ఏం రాస్తానో ఏమో? మొదలైతే పెట్టాను కాబట్టి.. ఖాళీ పేపర్ అయితే ఇవ్వనులే.. జై జె.ఎన్.టి.యు..

2010 ముగింపులో పుస్తకం పనుల మీద చాలా తిరిగాం. అదే 2011 మొదట్లో కూడా బాగా కొనసాగుతుందని ఆశించాను. విజయవాడ పుస్తక ప్రదర్శన కాస్త నిరాశపరిచినా శ్రీశ్రీ ప్రింటర్స్, నవోదయ రామ్మోహనరావుగారిని, తనికెళ్ళ భరణిని, పాత పుస్తకాల నాగేశ్వరరావుగారిని కలవటం ఆనందం కలిగించింది. కొత్త ఉత్తేజాన్ని ఇచ్చింది. కాకపోతే కొద్దిలో నండూరి రామ్మోహనరావుగారిని కలవటం తప్పిపోయింది నాకు. And I always knew, I lost once in a life time opportunity!

జనవరి నెలలోనే పుస్తకం అడ్మిన్ పనుల నుండి తప్పుకోవాలనుకున్నాను. అదే చెప్పాల్సిన వాళ్ళకి చెప్పాను. ఫిబ్రవరిలో రమణగారు పోవటం - one of most tragic phase in my life. వినగానే ’ఓహ్.. ’ అని మాత్రమే అనిపించింది కానీ, గడిచిన కొద్ది చాలా బాధపెట్టింది ఆ నిజం. దాంతో ఓ shellకి వెళ్ళిపోయి, పుస్తకాన్ని దాదాపుగా మర్చిపోయాననే గుర్తు. Loads of inaction, dumbness and numbness - చాలా కారణాలనుకోండి, అలా అవటానికి. సో.. పుస్తకం పనులేం చేయకుండా, అసలేం రాయకుండా, ఎవర్ని రాయమని విసిగించకుండా కాలం గడిచిపోయింది. ఆ నిర్లిప్తత కొద్దిమందికైనా సాంత్వన కలిగించిందనే అనుకుంటున్నాను. ;)

మనుషులని కలవటం, వారి చేత మాట్లాడించటం కొద్దిగా backseat తీసుకున్నా, పుస్తకాలు చదవటం నిర్విఘ్నంగా, నిరాటంకంగా జరిగింది. ఎప్పటిలానే ఒక పద్ధతి పాడూ లేకుండా ఏ పుస్తకం చేతికందితే దాన్నే చదవానరంభించి నచ్చితే పూర్తిచేయటం, లేకపోతే వదిలేయటం. మధ్య్లలో ఎప్పుడో కొంచెం అలసత్వాన్ని వెనక్కి నెట్టి పుస్తకాలను గూర్చి బుద్దిగా రాసాను కొన్నాళ్ళు. నచ్చినప్పుడు నచ్చిందని చెప్పడానికి వెనుకాడినా, నచ్చకపోతే మాత్రం వచ్చి అక్షింతలు వేస్తారని తెల్సింది. At least, I was being read - wow moment, no? :P

దానికన్నా ముఖ్య విషయం. నేను పుస్తకం నుండి తప్పుకుంటున్నానని చెప్పినప్పుడే చెప్పాను, రాస్తూ ఉంటాను. అయినా కూడా జనాలు "మీరు వెళ్ళిపోతున్నా అన్నారు? ఇంకా ఎందుకు రాసి విసిగిస్తున్నట్టు?" అన్న ధ్వనిలో ప్రశ్నలు అడిగారు, అడుగుతున్నారు. సమాధానం చాలా సింపుల్.. పుస్తకం తెర వెనుక ఉంటేనే పుస్తకంలో రాయాలని ఏమీ లేదు. పుస్తకం నిరవధికంగా నడవడానికి ఒక్కరో, ఇద్దరో కారణం కారు, కాలేరు. అందులో చాలా మంది భాగస్వామ్యం ఉంటుంది. రమణగారిలా చెప్పాలంటే ’సమిష్టి వ్యవసాయం’. పుస్తకం.నెట్ అనే తోటలో ఏదో మూల ఎన్నుకొని అందులో ఇష్టమైన మొక్కను నాటుకొని, పూలు పూయించుకోవచ్చును. దానికి భూమంతా వారి పేరు మీద ఉండాలనేమీ లేదు.

ఒక వెబ్‍సైట్ అడ్మిన్లకుండే తలనొప్పులు వాళ్ళకి ఉంటాయి. వాళ్ళని పొగిడేవాళ్ళకన్నా అటు-ఇటు అయ్యే క్షణాల కోసం కాచుకొని కూర్చొని, వాళ్ళని అనడానికి సిద్ధంగా ఉండేవాళ్ళు ఉంటూనే ఉంటారు. నచ్చినప్పుడు అవసరానికి మించి పొగుడుతారు. నచ్చనప్పుడు baseless allegations చేస్తుంటారు. లోకం తీరంత అని వదిలేయటం ఒక పద్ధతి. కానీ ఎప్పుడోకప్పుడు ఏ రాళ్ళు తగులుతున్నాయో, అవి చేతుల్లోకి వచ్చే అవకాశమూ ఉంది, వాటిని తిప్పి కొట్టే అవకాశమూ ఉంది. The so called sense of humour కొట్టే, కొట్టించుకునే వాళ్ళకే ఉంటాయి గానీ, రాళ్ళకి ఉండదు! :)

బెంగళూరులో బుక్‍వార్మ్ వాళ్ళతో ముచ్చటించటం కొంచెం పాత రోజుల్ని గుర్తుతెచ్చింది. ఆ వెంటనె గయ్ డి అనే లింగ్విస్ట్ తో ఈ-మెయిల్ సంభాషణ మరింత నచ్చింది. ఆయనంత త్వరగా ఒప్పుకుంటారని గానీ, లేక అంత తీరిగ్గా జవాబులిస్తారని గానీ ఊహించలేదు.

ఈ ఏడాది మరో అపురూప పరిణామం - జంపాల గారి వ్యాసావళి. అందరి వెంటపడినట్టే వీరిని పుస్తకంకు రాయమని మొదట అడిగినప్పుడు "నా ప్రొఫెషన్ అంత సమయం మిగల్చదు" అని అన్నారు. అదీ నిజమేనని ఊరుకున్నాం. కానీ వారం తర్వాత వారం ఆయన రాస్తూనే ఉండింది ముందు అబ్బుర పరిచింది, తర్వాత కొంచెం అసూయ కలిగించింది, చివరకు ఆయనకు నమో నమః చెప్పేసుకున్నాం లే! అంతలా, రాస్తూనే ఉన్నారు. Amazing insipration! కేవలం పుస్తకం విషయంలోనే కాదు, మనిషికి డిసిప్లెన్ ఉంటే ఎన్ని పనులు చేసుకోవచ్చోనని చూపారు. చదవటం, రాయటంకన్నా ఆయనలో నాకు చాలా నచ్చేవి.. the passion to communicate! Simply mind blowing!

ఏదో ప్రళయం వస్తే తప్ప మేం థీం మార్చేలా కనిపించలేదు. అలాగే, హాక్ అయ్యే పరిస్థితులు తప్పించుకొని ఎట్టకేలకు ఆ పాత బట్టలను వదిలి కొత్త బట్టలు వేసాం. అవేమో అంతగా అతికనట్టు లేవుగానీ, ప్రస్తుతానికి అలా కొనసాగించాల్సి వస్తుంది. దాన్ని కొంతైనా ఒక తీరు తెన్నూ తేవాలని ప్రయత్నం. చూడాలి!

తెర వెనుకున్నా, ముందున్నా, తెరనే ముసుగేసుకున్నా పుస్తకం అనేది ఒక ’కొంచెం ఇష్టం. కొంచెం కష్టం’ వ్యాపకంగా అలవాటయ్యిపోయింది. ఈ ఏడాది మేమిద్దరం కాస్త వెనక్కి తగ్గినట్టు అనిపించినా, పుస్తకం బాగానే నడిచింది. మున్ముందు మమల్ని అనాసక్తులూ, అలసత్వాలూ ఆవహించకుండా ఉంటే మా వంతుగా చేయాల్సింది మేము చేస్తాం. ఆనక whosoever's ఆధీనం!  


Sowmya's recap: http://vbsowmya.wordpress.com/2011/12/31/3yrspustakam-net/

Bro..

People who are sick of me, complain that I think too much. People who aren't.. well, they too complain the same. And to prove that I've a hint of sanity going into my thinking, I need strong backups. Like the case I'm trying to present here.

Harsha Bhogle's candid talk with Ayaz Memon is here and here. If you enjoy sensible talking, don't miss them. If you wanna still come back here, petty welcome. There are many topics which that interview touched upon, but here I've decided to talk about elder brothers.

Lets say there's a kid. He has got his eye on a toy, which isn't easily available to him. So, he first tries to get with his own efforts. When that doesn't work, he attracts / detracts the elders to get it for him. If they don't readily agree, he'll start playing his tricks. Finally, he gets what he wants. That's an happy ending? Not really.

After he played with it to heart's content, he may start fiddling it. Or throw it away. Or while still having fun with this toy, something much more fanciful may catch his attention. Now what? Repeat of the above para?

No matter what our age accounts to, I believe, we've this kiddish tendency to be back of something fanciful. Sometimes money. Sometimes security. Yet another time, family. We keep hopping from one thing to another. Without even realizing, we tend to be the same with what / whom we love too.

Here is the need of someone to try and keep us from distractions and help us focus on the toy in hand. The best possible choice, according to me, is an elder brother.

Why not a mom? A dad? Or a sis?

May be, it's just about any body who can see you through with your life. May be, it's just that I'm over-romanticizing the role of an elder bro. May be, I'm biased. Ok.. I'm biased!

There are moments in life, when you're in self-doubt. You can deal with the world, but not with yourself. Those are the moments when you need somebody to stand by you, stand for you.

You've your exams next week and you break your hand today. How nice it is to have a bro to tell you, "Chill! This is nothing! This can utmost hurt you for 3 days. Not more."

How *fantastic* (yes, that's the word!) would it be to lean on the shoulder of an elder bro and cry to your heart's content, for having lost your love, for having lost a beloved, for messing up life, or for getting messed up by life?

A person, who shared the same womb as you did. A person, who was sent few years ahead of you, as if  to set the world right for you. Who, while still a kid to his parents, starts parenting you. Who, while still toying with life, makes sure you've the right toys. Who, while still finding his path, guides you. Who, without being a lover to somebody, is already showering love upon you. He's a mom, dad and a friend all-in-one package.

Not that, everyone with an elder bro can get that lucky. Most of the times, the beauty of a relationship boils down to the two individuals in it, rather than the relation itself. But whoever has got it, I call them the luckiest souls. Where you end up with such wonderful support system for your life, is again a million dollar question.

Harsha opines that we need an elder-brother-culture and see if that helps our budding talent handle life well. Not too sure, if that works. Forced upon relations could be taxing.

I don't dream of meeting a Sachin Tendulkar. But yes, would hate myself, if I lose an opportunity to meet Ajit.

After all, a Sachin Tendulkar ain't a Sachin Tendulkar, without an Ajit Tendulkar! 

God bless the elder bros!

On Stephenie Meyer's Twilight

Here comes the declaration: Stephenie Meyer's Twilight is one of my favourite books!

To anybody who has a fair bit of idea of my likes and dislikes, my moods and sensibilities, my way of thinking and interpretation, my interests in reading and writing, this declaration might come as a  thorough surprise, if not a rude shock.

Twilight is supposedly an exaggerated love story between a human and a human-eating monster. On the face of it, it is a fairy tale for naive readers, who goad themselves with the idea that LOVE makes everything and anything possible and it’s an abomination for the other lot, who question the practicalities and possibilities.  For me, it stands somewhere between. Where and how, is what I intend to tell.

Before even getting into why I like a book in general and why this one, in particular, let’s talk about writer-reader relationship. A writer writes what he needs to write, badly and a reader reads what he wants to read, badly. Yes, the key word is “badly”. To tell the same, in my own way - the freaking way - what I mean is: I care a damn for who has written it. I care a damn on his / her need or urge to write it. I care a damn for the characters created - their moods, their sensibilities, their characteristics. I care a damn if the book is a success or not. I care a damn on how this book is perceived by the world and you, in particular. I care a damn if I've lost your respect as soon as you've read the first line of this post. What I care for, only and only, is how much of the book I could own, how much I could call it, mine.  

Twilight’s summary in my own words will NOT be: An impossible and implausible love story! To look at it that way, a vampire and human falling for each other, the human not stepping back even after knowing the truth about her love, the vampire under control when his prey is around, the love, the trust, the pain portrayed are too ridiculous to accept, forget about admiring.

I see it in a different way. For me, Edward Cullen isn’t a vampire. He is as human as anyone of us, but with a trait injurious to his gal. Bella isn’t a stupid gal who’s loving her man blindly, despite knowing he's inhuman, he's a vampire! She’s the one with complete understanding of her man, that she trusts him despite his trait, which is potentially lethal, only potentially! So, it’s not a vampire-human love story, for me. It is a potentially-harmful-guy and completely-trusting-gal deeply in love with each other. As human beings, we’re part angels and part demons. A twilight happens, when the demon in one is taken care by the angel in the other. A twilight is beautiful, not because demon-angel combination is intriguing. It is beautiful because, the angel doesn’t hesitate trusting the human being, despite the demon. In reciprocation, the demon is never let out of control within the human being.

I don’t belong to the rest of the herd, I’m supposed to, who expect their guys to be Edward Cullens. I belong to a special club (which has only me), because I see an Edward Cullen in each human being. Most of the times, we hid him from the world and unleash him only in solitude. Some times, we fall for those, who get scared by him and run away from us. Once in a life time - for only the lucky souls, of course -  a Bella enters our life, befriends the demon in us and turns our life into seeming fairy tale. 
( Ah! How dearly do I wish a Milan Kundera or Italo Calvino or Marquez, turning my interpretation into full fledged novel. Sigh!)

By the way, I was told, love is blind. I was further told, love is blind because the trust you end up putting in the person is blind. So, I took doubting one’s love to sin. No! The way it works is - at least for the single member club I’m in - the more you doubt a person, the more you understand the person and the more you put your trust in. Doubting is not sin. Letting the doubt win over you, without proper understanding IS. Deathly sin.

In case, the person whom you love the most, can’t even trust you as a human being and treats you as the demon... congratulations! You’re through with what human race dreads the most. Your last breath is a formality now. Of course, life until then, too.

Legal advice sought on the following:

1. Can Stephenie Mayer be sued, because I strongly feel, she trespassed my territory, understood my inner world and violated all copyright acts, to come up with following lines:

   
Sometimes I have a problem with my temper....
   
   
I was aware of the time slipping away so quickly, like the black road beneath us, and I was       hideously afraid that I would never have another chance to be with him like this again — openly, the walls between us gone for once. His words hinted at an end, and I recoiled from the idea. I couldn’t waste one minute I had with him.

I don’t want to be a monster.

I didn’t want to leave, but it was necessary. It’s a bit easier to be around you when I’m not thirsty.

Don’t you see, Bella? It’s one thing for me to make myself miserable, but a wholly other thing for you to be so involved.

You were right — I’m definitely fighting fate trying to keep you alive.

Yes, you are exactly my brand of heroin.

I’m stronger than I thought. It’s nice to know.

Mind over matter.

You don’t realize how incredibly breakable you are. I can never, never afford to lose any kind of control when I’m with you.

I infuriate myself. The way I can’t seem to keep from putting you in danger. My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate myself.

I love you. It’s a poor excuse for what I’m doing, but it’s still true.
   

2. Better, if I could sue God for his ineffectual scripts..Possible?

The Solitude of Prime Numbers - Paolo Giordano

The title was fascinating enough for me to take the book in hands. The backdrop was sufficiently intriguing to buy it. The engrossing prose of the first few pages was enough to hook to the book till I completed it. This is one of those books, which isn't part of my favourites list, but still has tugged my heart's strings.

Any story, in particular love story, has to have enough stuff in it to engross the readers. At rare instances though, the story in itself has nothing great to offer, if not for the narration and presentation of it. Two lines about the plot of this book would only have that this a story of two not-so-normal people getting involved with each other right from their teenage, yet can't express themselves clearly to the other and in the bargain lose the love of their lives while having them in proximity.

As I was reading through, I was completely engulfed by the prose used for narration and characterization of the lprotagonists. It was hard to stop by. The real beauty of the work though, is the conceptualization of an idea and the execution of it.

The uniqueness of Prime numbers is their specialty not (or inability?) to be divisible by another number, except for themselves and one. Co-existing with a whole lot of other numbers, prime numbers still remain distinctively different. There isn't chance of two prime numbers next to each other.Twin primes, like 17 and 19, 41 and 43 - which are belonging to the same category are so close by, but are never next-to-next. They've just a single number between them (very near), but they still have a number between them (yet very far). For a moment, let's assume that there are two souls metamorphic to prime numbers, in the sense that they stand out from the usual crowd because of their genius or unusual traits or inabilities or whatever. A series of incidents happen with them individually and in togetherness, that despite the proximity they share they end of being distanced by an eternity. And through that distance runs a delicate string that still bonds them together. Though I wouldn't be carried away to call this piece of work a masterpiece, I'd still say, the attempt and the execution was laudable.

I found the choice of narrating the story in third person, very interesting! While the story is not about too many things happening around, but instead how one wrestles with the inner self with very happening, the author doesn't get into too much introspection of the characters and their mind. Say, for instance, the guy has the gal next to him with the scene aptly suitable to express his love for her. There is neither melodrama nor prolix detailing. All it has is - the guy knowing what to do and the guy not able to do it. Simple and elegant! Even the climax of the story has impressed me. Over all, I was looking for bit more mathematics involved in the story, I was let down.

This book isn't for people who can look / feel and sense love only in the bollywood boisterous ways. This book is for people who are or who can empathize that love can happen to the not-so-normal people and expressing it can also be in not-so-normal ways. (not-so-normal only means that anything / anyone not belonging to the most conventional ways, not that they are aliens, though are treated that way.)

When every single step taken towards someone draws you away from them and that very withdrawal pushes you closer to them, the distance between always remaining the same, the other earthly matters really don't matter. If you wanna know such a story, read this book.

"The Solitude of Prime Numbers asks, can we ever be whole when we’re in love with another? And how much of ourselves do we give away?"

I've got my answer. You find out yours. :)

(Googling for this book after I had read through the initial chapters, I came across an interesting blog, which categorizes book musings into fore-thoughts (musings after knowing the book and before reading) and after-thoughts (once done with the book). I liked the idea, that I'm tempted to write that way. Would give it a try, soon!)