The Rebel... The Wanderer... The Buddha of Suburbia

"My name is Karim Amir and I am an Englishman born and bred almost".
Karim is the son of an Indian migrant and his English wife, and his only dream is to escape the boredom, the oppression of the racist neighborhood of the suburbs and reap the greater pleasures of the 1970's.
Hanif Kureishi's debut autobiographical novel, The Buddha of Suburbia takes us through the narrow streets of South London and gives us a true taste of youth in revolt. Karim's story is a deliciously witty and satirical account of a third culture kid exploring the realms of art, sex and spirituality in the  turbulent waters of the 70's London. His story serves as a political and social collage of what the turn of the decade held for Britain and leaves us inspired, questioning who we are and what we it is that we want of this thing called life.
The story is scattered amongst characters we seem to know- the immigrant father who came from India two decades ago, to study law and go home with his fortune 'like Ghandi' but somehow forgot to return, the Aunt Jeeta, an Indian princess, who sells groceries, and her daughter, the rebellious Jamila who reads Silvia Plath and is forcefully betrothed to the crippled Changez from India.
The Buddha of Suburbia is a rich and inspiring story, one that forms an interesting comparison to the next generation of youths who stand at the turn of a millennium unable to conceive what is expected of them and wonder what they expect of themselves.

 

Four Extractions Complete!

I am very relieved to say that I did survive the ordeal of having four perfectly healthy teeth pulled out (on two separate days). I cannot say that it was not at least a slightly traumatizing experience: the crunch sound a tooth makes when it refuses to let go of the flesh and bone that binds it, the shock waves that travel through all near by teeth at the sight of slaughter.
I experienced almost no pain at the dentist's clinic but an hour after returning home with my mouth stuffed with bloody cotton wool a numbing pain shot through my face, piercing my jaw bone. I could almost feel the hollowness of the cavity the missing tooth had created in my skull. With a couple of Panadols I was able to get my mind off the unpleasantness. The pain persisted for a day or two but I had very little difficulty in chewing food or brushing my teeth. A few hours after my last two extractions, in spite of my mother's appeal to stick to vegetable soup, I devoured a whole plate of rice with dried fish curry.
Now since my wounds have healed I am glad that the most gruesome parts of getting braces are behind me. Can't wait for the perfect smile!

Avurudu is here...

Wishing everyone a Happy and Prosperous Sinhalese and Tamil New Year!!!

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

One thing overtakes another- with classes, braces and internet connection failures- and before you know it, two months have gone by with hardly any writing work done. Nonetheless, I have been reading quite a lot and lazing around on the floor (it's hard to do anything else with this heat), and I can't wait to write about all that I have discovered.
Avurudu (Sinhalese and Tamil New Year) is around the corner and it calls for a Spring cleaning. That and the preparing of the sweet treats ought to keep me busy for the next week or so. Not to forget, the hordes of relatives. In the mean time, I will try to pick up where I left off with this blogging business. Pfft, so much for daily posting...

The Kite Runner... A Tale of Broken, Fallen Dreams

Two nights of insomnia is all I needed to finish this mind gripping novel by Khaled Hosseini.

The Kite Runner (film)

Narrated by Karim, the son of an affluent and respected businessman, The Kite Runner is a nostalgic account of childhood, of days spent picking juicy pomegranates, munching dried mulberries and walnuts, and running across street markets in the suburbs of Kabul during a time prior to the reign of blood, before words like communism, the Roussi or the Taliban had begun to plague the people of Afghanistan. But Karim and his loyal friend Hassan soon learn that the happiness of childhood is as ephemeral as the wings of a butterfly. Evil strikes on the most important day of their lives, tearing them apart and leaving behind an emptiness, a guilt that will haunt Karim for life. It is this bundle of memories that Karim takes with him when he sets off to find a better life in California as yet another Afghan refugee. Decades later, when Karim discovers "a way to be good again", he is forced to return to the land of his birth, 'the soil of his ancestors'. The novel gathers pace as he sets out on this adventure in 'modern' Afghanistan.

It felt as if I was right there, strolling the streets of this forlorn city, amongst the sun scorched alleys and "adobe walls", reminiscing the recent past of a nation that had once had hopes and dreams of betterment. It inspired in me a sense of the desperation that clings to every aspect of life in Afghanistan.

The Kite Runner is not only a heart warming story of love, friendship and 'blood', but also a reflection of the ways of the people of Afghanistan and the dark and bitter history of their nation.