I was out today and was meeting someone for the first time - I kept mentioning how I write or like to write. It was quite a bittersweet moment - I haven't blogged in a month now! So much for being so happy/proud about those Hampi Diaries. Here's a long over due post.
All about the Jaipur Literature Festival.
Like I mentioned in my previous post, I had attended the Jaipur Literature Festival (JLF from here on out) over the Republic Day long weekend. From the moment I reached there, I knew I would have so much to write about when I got back home. A little bit of what I wanted to articulate about my experience, my friend Mrinalini did in her blog a few weeks ago, actually. And I will get to all of that.
I was desperate for 2013 to be a much more happy year than 2012 was. And so far, it hasn't let me down. In any way. This trip to Jaipur was amazing. I had the right company and the atmosphere was intellectually charged and left me amazed - exactly what I had been hoping for.
Background time :
My family (and extended family) classify as what we call in Tamil, a 'padippaala kudumbam'. A well-read family. Also, we love to read. Be it reading newspapers, magazines, books or to read as in be educated or knowledgeable. But above all, we love to read. I think I'd be correct in saying that most of my family must have at one point or another (if not periodically) spent a huge chunk of their salary on books. Books are investments. It was only natural for us to leave a whole room of books and a few cupboards full of books at our home in Mohali when we moved to Delhi. They were far too many in number to cart all the way here - and perhaps, we'd have had to rent another small apartment here. Needless to say, we have cultivated quite a collection in the last five years that we've lived here.
As a child, Enid Blyton made up my literary world. Noddy. Malory Towers. Famous Five.
Noddy books are however, my earliest memory of me trying to read on my own. Although I liked my parents reading out loud to me, I think I was in a hurry to try read on my own. As with a lot of other things, including moving out of the house. Anyway, getting back to the point - I loved and still do, love to read.
I was once called a 'ferocious' reader. I'm pretty sure Uncle wanted to say voracious. But I think back then, I was okay with the ferocious, too. Now, of course, it's a family joke.
Fiction was love. Non-fiction felt like something older, boring people read.
Something changed, though. Something changed around the time I entered college. I may have started reading a book, but I don't think I read long enough to finish it. It's true of so many books that I bought in the last 3 years. Unfortunate. And btw, I also transitioned into non-fiction in this phase. Maybe they weren't as gripping as the fiction was. Maybe my attention span had lessened incredibly and unfortunately.
Back in 2012, I made a promise to myself - to actually finish reading a whole book. That did not take off the way I wanted it to! I'm currently reading 10 different books. But one thing has changed, I make it a point to read at least for 10 minutes each night before sleeping. Btw, I finished 2 books a few weeks ago.
So I had a few apprehensions before going to JLF. I wondered whether my lax attitude and insanely low attention span would go against me. It's a world-renowned literary festival - and a person like me was going to attend it! Also, after having transitioned into non-fiction, I haven't been able to appreciate fiction the way I used to. I hope to get it back soon. So I wondered how many of the sessions I'd even attend! It felt like more logical sense for my friends pursuing a degree in English Literature to attend it instead of me. At another level, I believed that attending JLF would get me my beloved, much missed habit back.
My friends had reached on Day 0 - my plan was to join them by or before lunch on Day 1. I reached right on time for the Dalai Lama's session with Pico Iyer. I have to admit, there's not much that I can recall from that session - there was such a lot of crowd that from the place I was standing at, I could barely see the screen nor hear/understand what HH was saying. And perhaps, also because it was the first session ever. I was too busy being seduced by the atmosphere. It was electric!
And soon, one of my concerns went away. It wasn't going to be limited to literature in the form of fiction. And perhaps not just the literature, but just authors and how they felt. How they felt about the freedom of expression, development issues in India, the Indian economy as compared to the Chinese economy. Or passionate narration of a historic event - I had never imagined military history could be remotely interesting. Or about the first sexual revolution in Europe. Or how awesomesauce it is to be Punjabi by nature. Or discovering Latin American humour. What it meant to be away from home - or what one's identity was. Or see a controversy brew right in front of you and get to say 'Oh no he didn't!' in your head.
Confession time, though. Most of what I attended, I did not understand. Sometimes, these beautiful, intelligent people seem to be on an entirely different tangent. And you want to believe that you're eager, interested and that it is all intelligible to you. Because, you want to belong, perhaps? Initially, I was very disturbed by this inability to understand. But now, I feel that this will probably come with maturity. And maybe even if I just don't get it - it's okay. It's fine. :)
All about the Jaipur Literature Festival.
Like I mentioned in my previous post, I had attended the Jaipur Literature Festival (JLF from here on out) over the Republic Day long weekend. From the moment I reached there, I knew I would have so much to write about when I got back home. A little bit of what I wanted to articulate about my experience, my friend Mrinalini did in her blog a few weeks ago, actually. And I will get to all of that.
I was desperate for 2013 to be a much more happy year than 2012 was. And so far, it hasn't let me down. In any way. This trip to Jaipur was amazing. I had the right company and the atmosphere was intellectually charged and left me amazed - exactly what I had been hoping for.
Background time :
My family (and extended family) classify as what we call in Tamil, a 'padippaala kudumbam'. A well-read family. Also, we love to read. Be it reading newspapers, magazines, books or to read as in be educated or knowledgeable. But above all, we love to read. I think I'd be correct in saying that most of my family must have at one point or another (if not periodically) spent a huge chunk of their salary on books. Books are investments. It was only natural for us to leave a whole room of books and a few cupboards full of books at our home in Mohali when we moved to Delhi. They were far too many in number to cart all the way here - and perhaps, we'd have had to rent another small apartment here. Needless to say, we have cultivated quite a collection in the last five years that we've lived here.
As a child, Enid Blyton made up my literary world. Noddy. Malory Towers. Famous Five.
Noddy books are however, my earliest memory of me trying to read on my own. Although I liked my parents reading out loud to me, I think I was in a hurry to try read on my own. As with a lot of other things, including moving out of the house. Anyway, getting back to the point - I loved and still do, love to read.
I was once called a 'ferocious' reader. I'm pretty sure Uncle wanted to say voracious. But I think back then, I was okay with the ferocious, too. Now, of course, it's a family joke.
Fiction was love. Non-fiction felt like something older, boring people read.
Something changed, though. Something changed around the time I entered college. I may have started reading a book, but I don't think I read long enough to finish it. It's true of so many books that I bought in the last 3 years. Unfortunate. And btw, I also transitioned into non-fiction in this phase. Maybe they weren't as gripping as the fiction was. Maybe my attention span had lessened incredibly and unfortunately.
Back in 2012, I made a promise to myself - to actually finish reading a whole book. That did not take off the way I wanted it to! I'm currently reading 10 different books. But one thing has changed, I make it a point to read at least for 10 minutes each night before sleeping. Btw, I finished 2 books a few weeks ago.
So I had a few apprehensions before going to JLF. I wondered whether my lax attitude and insanely low attention span would go against me. It's a world-renowned literary festival - and a person like me was going to attend it! Also, after having transitioned into non-fiction, I haven't been able to appreciate fiction the way I used to. I hope to get it back soon. So I wondered how many of the sessions I'd even attend! It felt like more logical sense for my friends pursuing a degree in English Literature to attend it instead of me. At another level, I believed that attending JLF would get me my beloved, much missed habit back.
My friends had reached on Day 0 - my plan was to join them by or before lunch on Day 1. I reached right on time for the Dalai Lama's session with Pico Iyer. I have to admit, there's not much that I can recall from that session - there was such a lot of crowd that from the place I was standing at, I could barely see the screen nor hear/understand what HH was saying. And perhaps, also because it was the first session ever. I was too busy being seduced by the atmosphere. It was electric!
And soon, one of my concerns went away. It wasn't going to be limited to literature in the form of fiction. And perhaps not just the literature, but just authors and how they felt. How they felt about the freedom of expression, development issues in India, the Indian economy as compared to the Chinese economy. Or passionate narration of a historic event - I had never imagined military history could be remotely interesting. Or about the first sexual revolution in Europe. Or how awesomesauce it is to be Punjabi by nature. Or discovering Latin American humour. What it meant to be away from home - or what one's identity was. Or see a controversy brew right in front of you and get to say 'Oh no he didn't!' in your head.
Confession time, though. Most of what I attended, I did not understand. Sometimes, these beautiful, intelligent people seem to be on an entirely different tangent. And you want to believe that you're eager, interested and that it is all intelligible to you. Because, you want to belong, perhaps? Initially, I was very disturbed by this inability to understand. But now, I feel that this will probably come with maturity. And maybe even if I just don't get it - it's okay. It's fine. :)
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