Hello,
Do you ever skip the uninteresting parts of a movie or a web series ? I use the skip button generously, much to the annoyance of anyone who treats viewing as sacrosanct , and wants to watch blow by blow account of an action sequence, or a watch the heart wrenching scene as people narrate their saddest of stories. I pretty much want to use the same button in life too - skipping over these seemingly difficult days- my days that have a Groundhog Effect, events occurring only to repeat once again, as I try hard to break a pattern.
Reading Corner
Finished reading Days at the Morisaki Shop and was left feeling underwhelmed. This book had been on my TBR for a long time, very obviously influenced by BookTok/ Bookstagram. It had a promising start, I was intrigued by the setup - a girl moves in with her uncle, and rediscovers the joys of reading while she helps him with his second-hand bookstore. I related to the parts where reading helps her cope, it helps her move on, and provides a much needed distraction. But I was left feeling underwhelmed as the novel ended, fading into just about another day at the Morisaki Shop.
Books have come to my rescue at different stages in my life, but that is perhaps because there hasn’t been a time when I wasn’t actively reading. The period when I did everything in my power to stay away from reading was the years when I was preparing for competitive exams, and years that followed during my Bachelors. I gave up reading for leisure, often telling myself that I will have plenty of time to ‘catch up’ on reading. While the later is true - I did end up ‘catching up’, in hindsight, I wish I didn’t have to take an extreme measure like deciding to ban reading altogether. The days when I read, I am human, the days I don’t, I am a potboiler of emotions at the mercy of everyone’s emotions around me, seething and spilling at the slightest nudge.
Writing Corner
Target Run is an on going series featured here on TOAT. For recap, read here.
“Okay, “ she turns around, “Will see you around”, she says, before walking away.
Her smile. Same as Neelambari’s. It had stood the test of time.
“Bye Neelambari”, I call out absentmindedly.
She turns around, and looks at me with her deep blue eyes, “Its Shwetha”, she hisses without blinking.
After she leaves, I absentmindedly check out my stuff as well, and make my way to my car. It was unusually cold for Arkansas that evening, a chilly wind refusing to bow down, and playing a light whistle. My car was the only one in the Parking Lot, and stood in the middle of an eerie fog.
I settle inside my car, the steering is cold as steel. I turn on the heater, and rub my hands aggressively to warm them up. As I wait for the car to heat up a little, I whip out my phone and search for on Facebook.
“Shwet-
—a Srinivas” it reads, “Legacy page” it says.
A chill goes down my spine. No. It can’t be.
My fingers scroll past the feed to hurriedly, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. I find condolence messages in hundreds. The same face, the same person.
A description reads :
“The Srinivas family are deeply mourning the loss of their daughter, Shwetha, their Son-In-Law, Ram, and their grandson, Pranav in a car accident. They shall remain in our hearts forever”.
Learning Corner
See y’all in the next edition!