“So, this is the first session of 2023… We added some candles this time, to make it romantic. The narrator picked up ‘The Warrior of the Light’.”
POCKET DIARY BOOK CLUB
MINUTES OF THE MEETING
YEAR 2023
08/01/2023
03:00 PM (Writing a 0 before 3 gives minutes a serious vibe, no funny business).
So, this is the first session of 2023, I cannot believe it. How will I? It sustained for 5 whole
editions and people are not bored of books, yet. So, we added some candles this time, to
make it romantic. The hero’s and the heroines were sitting around the dim light as the
narrator picked up the manual of a boy, called ‘The Warrior of the Light’. He was an old man,
or a man of old…
His voice was soft and commanding as he spoke, “The temple has many bells, and he should
go to the edge of the village and lis ten for them. He does so but does not hear anything. A
fisherman in the village tells the boy there had been a temple on the island, but an earthquake
collapsed the building. Even though the island is no longer visible, the people can sometimes
hear the be lls when the wind whistles through the island. The boy becomes obsessed with
hearing the bells and loses interest in everything else. Though teased, he never gives up faith
that he will hear them one day.”
Imagine him reading, with a small candle kept in front of him, sitting cross-legged, in a white
short kurta with 5 brown buttons reaching up to his closed collar. Pair them with linen brown
pants. Add a pair of black specs hanging from his neck.
He wore his necklace on his eyes and said, “If she ever retu rned, he could tell her that,
although he had not seen the island, he had heard the temple bells set ringing by the motion
of the waves.”
“You know, typical boy behaviour”, the narrator boyishly smiled and I thought, this man is
younger than millennials and Gen a-z.
Reader: Yogesh, Book Name: The Manual of the Warrior of light, Author: Paulo Coehlo.
I searched and I searched but Anaro was extinct from the world of internet. Only Manjula
Bhagat, its author and Mitesh, the reader of the club who introduced her to its characters
remember her now.
“DD One पे serial आता था!”
I am talking of the Classics series ‘Katha Sarita’ every Monday night at 2130 hrs in the year
2008. But Pandit Gangadhar Vidhyadhar Mayadhar Omkarnath Shastri had left Aaj ki Aawaz
and I was watching “Annu Ki Ho Gayee Wah Bhai Wah” on Star One that year.
Nirali wore a sea green and white stripped kaftan with ankle length leggings. It makes her
look like she is back in college again. Some might think I have a crush on her. I don’t. She is
just looking fresh as a petal.
Reena brought Sita – Warrior of Mithila by Amish Tripathi
I did not get to write much about Reena in tha past few minutes. I received acknowledgement
of that fact from the source herself. I told her I will write about her today. I hope I keep my
promise.
Asmita brought two male fri ends with her for safety. We are not goons (I joked) but I don’t
visit closed spaces alone either, it’s an internalised “girl thing”.
Our warrior of the light met her on a ramble in the park. She was sitting under the shade of a
tree (my imagination) and h e was curious as to what is she reading. Twice, thrice he walked
past her thinking of going up to her and ask. On the fourth turn, he stopped and asked. And
that conversation brought her to this club.
She brought Antima by Manav Kaul.
The conversation move d to age. Who is young and who is old. Nirali wants to preserve her
two white hairs. I suggested a layer.
Rajesh came from the mountains. And brought a unique name, “Sab Kuch Hona Bacha
Rahega” by Vinod Kumar Shukla. He is a punctual man. Or an early bird. Today he came 15
minutes late, just to avoid listening to the rules. His bad luck. We repeated them for him.
3400 BCE,
“Somewhere near the Godavari River, India Sita cut quickly and efficiently, slicing through the
thick leaf stems with her sharp knife. The dwarf banana trees were as tall as she was. She did
not need to stretch. She stopped and looked at her handiwork. Then she cast a look at
Makrant, the Malayaputra soldier, a short distance away. He had cut down perhaps half the
number of leaves that Sita had.”
Reena was speaking and all of us were listening to the first chapter of her book.
I loved the new tradition of reading the first chapter for the club, it was necessary.
We all love describing the book that we bring along with us but as an audience, we cannot
connect. A beginning is necessary for every story to generate curiosity. We are not cats. We
won’t be killed.
Then if a listener likes the book, he can read it on his own and find his own favourite paragraph
to connect with.
The conversation went to variations of Ramayan (I’ll skip the ‘a’) in different religions. There
might be books out there tel ling the life story of Suparnakha, Mandodari, Kaushalya and
Sunaina.
“Was Kaushalya, in her misery, never angry on her husband for binding her so with the system
that did not allow her to go after her son and spend the remainder of her life in his palace?
What were her thoughts?”
Nirali said “There is a Gujarati song for Sita.” And we listened:
કાચા રે કાન તમે ક્ાાં ના ભગવાન તમે અગ્નિ પરીક્ષા કોની કીધી
તારો પડછાયો થઇ જઇ ને વગડો રે વેઠ્યો એને લોકોની વાતે ત્યાગી દીધી
પગ્ત થઇ ને પત્નીને પારખતાાં ન આવડી છો ને ઘટઘટના જ્ઞાતા થઇ ફૂલાઓ
પણ રામ તમે સીતાજીની તોલે ન આવો મારા રામ તમે સીતાજીની તોલે ન આવો
તમથીયે પહેલા અશોક વનમાાં સીતાજી એ રાવણને હરાવ્યો
દ ૈ ત્યોના બીચમા નીરાધાર નારી તો’યે દશ માથાવાળો ત્યાાં ના ફાવ્યો
મરેલા ને માયો તેમા કયયું શયાં પરાક્રમ અમથો ગ્વજય નો લૂટ્યો લ્હાવો
મારા રામ તમે સીતાજી ની તોલે ન આવો મારા રામ તમે સીતાજી ની તોલે ન આવો.
Nirali (also me) insisted she read more because we loved the book. Women! They can be such
annoying pests.
Someone said the author used superhero’s to humanise our mythological characters. I won’t
be surprised if Amish too missed Shaktimaan. I read about the concept developed by Mukesh
Khanna from our childhood mythological stories (Kundalini Yoga, VFX, Costume, Good
Messages).
Nirali has trekked to the base camp of Mount Everest and plans to do s o again this year with
her 4/5-year-old daughter. In her journey up, they were dead on their feet when they met
Buddhist monks who were climbing effortlessly and swiftly. She could almost imagine wings
in their ankles.
Time went on.
“जो मेर े घर कभी नहीीं आए ींगे
मैं उनसे ममलने उनक े पास चला जाऊ ीं गा
एक उफनती नदी कभी नहीीं आएगी मेर े घर
नदी जैसे लोगो से ममलने नदी मकनार े जाऊ ीं गा
क ु छ तैर ीं गा और ड ू ब जाऊ ीं गा”
– Rajesh Ji read it as a tribute to Pocket Diary Book Club.
Ankit read A 1000 Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosaaini, Aditya read कक िं कर्तव्यकिमूढ़, a Gujarati
book. Then came The Five People You Meet In Heaven by Mitch Albom.
“God is dead and we have killed him”, said German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. “His book
was poorly translated, inspiring Hitler”, said Sandeep. “And no amount of water can wash our
hands off the blood.” The second statement is not read by people, taking pride in the murder.
He read Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoyevsky.
“To live longer than forty years is bad manners, is vulgar, immoral. Who does live beyond
forty? Answer that, sincerely and honestly I will tell you who do: fools and worthless fellows.
I tell all old men that to their face, all these venerable old men, all these silver -haired and
reverend seniors! I tell the whole world that to its face! I have a right to say so, for I shall go
on living to sixty myself. To seventy! To eighty! … Stay, let me take breath …”
– He was reading Chapter I
“You imagine no doubt, gentlemen, that I want to amuse you. You are mistaken in that, too.”
A person reading to us and sitting back, just listening, doing nothing, is a perfect lazy activity
for a type Lazy (there is no other word for it) personality, like me.
“But what can a decent man speak of with most pleasure?
Answer: Of himself.
Well, so I will talk about myself.”
The End