Tag Archives: books

The best way to kill a read

The most effective way to kill a good read is to read it really, really fast. Joel calls that being a “speed freak”.

But it isn’t really my fault, not really. The book is just so, so sad. I had to kill it before it kills me. Sorry Bookie, my life is more real to me than yours. I am so sorry you had to die such an unglamorous death.

Like Joel said, I fulfilled my “freaky nature” by exploding through the book at the top speed. Two-lines-per-second. My eyes were blurry as it skimmed the alphabets, barely registering a verb, an adjective, not even a word, they were all a jumble of alphabets, or closer to nothing, because before I could “see” the letter a I have already skipped forward to n and then it was y and another word that began with t.

Names were my speed bumps, I would pause at the word “Norah” “David” “Paul” (if they happened to register); inverted commas which signaled conversations caught my attention. A truly tiring way to read.

But tell me if you can, that it is not sad, to keep a secret from your beloved wife! Tell me that it is not tragic to see a family fall apart because of one sore mistake!

Tell me that meaningless affairs are not heart-wrenching, and that you do not pity the man who lives a secret life behind his camera lens.

A talented boy who used music as an outlet for anger and leading his life out of defiance. Three persons’ sad memories intermingled into a rivers of bitterness and then an OCEAN of regrets.

The worst: a secret, a wrongful secret,i kept till the very last breath and taken to the deathbed: the injustice of it! And finally when it was all said and done the dust had already settled and there was nothing more to say, or do. The dead is gone and the living try their best to live again, live like they have never seen sadness.

OK, the ending wasn’t that bleak, but it might just have been, you know. Anyhow to me it doesn’t make up for the lost years and the decades of anguish, but really, it just teaches us that life still goes on, heedless of mundane human tragedies. No tragedy is too hard for Life to get over.

So tell me if you had such a book in your hand you would not dash through it, beat down the unhappy, stifling paragraphs and be done with it. It will take some time before i read it again!

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The solitaire mystery

The joker is the only card in the deck that is neither a Spade, a Diamond, a Club nor a Heart. It is not an Ace, Five, Jack or King. The joker is an outsider looking in to the lives of ordinary people, and he marvels the extraordinary fact of being alive.

Why are we shaped this way? Why is the world this way?

How come we can think about our existence?

So what it is like being alive? Are we truly living? Where do we come from? Where does the world come from?

We live by feeding off the earth’s produce. The more we consumed, the more ‘earth-like’ we became. We were much at home, that the world became our habit and we stopped wondering about why everything was the way it was. We also created luxuries from available materials, and we became quickly intoxicated by these things: fashion, culture, power, wealth and glamour. We gulped them down greedily like how children slurped up their favourite fizzy drinks. Today we are eternally occupied by temporal, material things.

The joker is different. The joker saw through the evils of over-consumption. He ‘spits out the lie-juice’ and kept his mind clear. He is the only one who set sights on finding the true meaning of his existence. He had many questions that the ordinary people could not answer. That frustrated and angered the people.

Why are you being such a pest, asking all these questions that don’t matter?

You disturb our lives and our minds, you distract us from things that are truly important.

Why do you bother us so?

When I think about it, I think I my senses have been dulled by ‘earth-juice’ too. The world has become my habit, and I live each day complaining about the slightest things, and chasing after the smallest pleasure. As I grow older my appetite increases, and I need more to satisfy myself. Because I needed so many things to keep myself happy, I am dissatisfied most of the time.

So, the lucky thing about misfortunes is that they shake you up and force you to relook the way you have lived your life.

I recently tripped and fell and lost my way. I had just picked myself up, dusted my hands, and looking around I realised that though I was in a different place, it was not a bad kind of different at all. I start from scratch again rebuilding my priorities. It was like looking through your old cupboard and tossing out things that are bad and irrelevant and repacking the good things.


Are we truly conscious of Being Alive? Asking the right questions about live could be the first step to finding the important things, and by valuing these things we understand the best way to live, and by living well we unlock the secret to true happiness (:

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Something important to hang on to

We need an anchor in life, so that we will not be swept away by the undercurrents.

What is yours?

I would build mine around my passion for books, reading, philosophy, family, great ol’ friends, and nice nibbles (: Oh and beautiful clothes! (we have to wear something, righttt?)

To top it all, freshly baked bread are the mainstays of a wholesome, delicious and blissful life! Yums Yums!

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