Ever read something that makes you feel that an author squeezed your life's experiences and used it as ink to write a story? Your story?? That's how I'm feeling. At 12:48 am.
Earlier today, before heading out to the gym, I stopped by at the library to pick up a book. Some people like to listen to music while they workout, I like to read. It's probably the only time I get to do so.
As I began to read the first few pages of Mohsin Hamid's book, I immediately felt a connection. It touches on so many themes of my life. Perhaps the life of every immigrant. How one feels like a child outside the candy store, always looking in. How one's always observant, because deep down there's a feeling of not belonging. This book has moments that will make one scream - thats so me. It seemed to touch on every emotion or sentiment I've ever pondered on.
As I read, I saw how Changez (the protaganist) asked the very same questions, I did, probably still do. And finds no answer, just confusion. Changez's enlightenment comes at the hands of Juan-Bautista. Juan's description of the jannissaries makes Changez realise what he became and gives him the strength to give it up.
184 pages. 5 hours. Ends a bit weirdly, but great read!
In other news, I met up with Adrienne for coffee after working out. Told her about this book and shared some childhood memories with her. She made a pretty strange comment; "Your memories of a few moments have so much intensity. And my entire life, there isn't one thing that can rate as highly on an emotional thermometer, as do your memories and accounts of your life."
I dont remember what I told her, but really, why am I surviving on memories instead of cultivating more of them?
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