Showing posts with label nostalgia.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nostalgia.. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Bookstores & Libraries: Their Stories and Enigma!

By Sunaina Patnaik at Tuesday, February 17, 2015 4 comments



“I didn't go to bookshops to buy. That's a little bourgeois. I went because they were civilized places. It made me happy there were people who sat down and wrote and wrote and wrote and there were other people who devoted their lives to making those words into books. It was lovely. Like standing in the middle of civilization.” 
― Jerry Pinto, Em and The Big Hoom

A quaint little bookstore, shelves stacked with a diverse range of books, the musty aroma of the wooden lofts, and more books scaling till the roof. Paradise!

Surely, the storekeeper was old, but he seemed to remember the names of the writers on his fingertips.

He was well versed with what they wrote, and the ones that were good.

Conversations with him were lucid, but strangely unusual. He spoke from the experience that came along with the company of books and words. An experience any reader would lust for!

Again, I felt like a child. I knew this is exactly how I felt when I stepped into a library for the first time ever. 

Don't you feel like an entirely different person altogether when you are in a bookstore? Or for that matter, a library?

And let us not forget those nostalgic second hand bookstores where you find books with dry leaves and roses, feathers, notes written by a mother to her son etc.

After buying a bunch of books and comics from the bookstore, my mother and I, we went home in glee. I believe we cannot buy this glee on Amazon or Flipkart.

The whole emotion of touching the books, reading their summary, and purchasing one right away with the anticipation of unleashing its mystery after you go home is absolutely lost each time you purchase a book online.

No, I am serious. I have got nothing against the online stores. I practically live on Amazon.

However, let us consider this scenario too. We go to a bookstore on a whim. (Yes, these days buying books from an online store or going to a library has mostly turned into a whim for 90% of us.) We walk from one shelf to another; we touch one book to another waiting to find that one book that would turn into our favourite for the next 5 years. 

We look for that one book that will end up being a major part of our memories.

In this process, we also reunite with books that have made our childhoods lovely. We do not go home with one book, but with three more books that the librarian or the storekeeper suggests us.

We fall in love with more writers and their words accidentally. 

We explore. We discover.

******

Come 2020, I am not sure if people will still visit libraries and bookstores. Utterly sad, I know. But I don't know. We are so dependent on the Internet. To top it all, rumours like "No bright future for libraries and print versions of books" because of tablets and ereaders is even depressing.

As a child, I still remember going to a library every evening with my mother. It was a ritual she never missed. And I made sure I was a part of it. Even today, my mother purchases books from the local stores instead of relying on the online stores. So does my father.  Taking the cue from them, I have firmly decided that I would purchase books from bookstores only. 

I am quite obstinate about it.

Let me tell you this. Libraries and bookstores are magical. You will never know what stories they hold high up their chest unless you visit them. Walk up to your closest bookstore or library, and fall in love with a world that will cast a spell on you forever.

We cannot let libraries and bookstores go extinct only because we refuse to visit them. 

As long as human race exists, stories and storytellers will thrive. While we are at it, we might as well give our next generation of individuals a fine experience of being in a library than learn about them on their iPad.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Memories In Time

By Sunaina Patnaik at Wednesday, January 21, 2015 0 comments


“I don't feel very much like Pooh today," said Pooh.


"There there," said Piglet. "I'll bring you tea and honey until you do.” 
― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh


Perhaps only love can heal love.

Cannot figure out how? Let me explain.

When I was in twelfth, I had to shift to Vizag due to some unforeseen circumstances. A change in the college, a change in the city, and miles away from home - with too many changes and uncertainties, I was terribly homesick.

I missed my parents. I missed home. 

It was the first time I stayed away from my parents, and being with my grandparents was fun, but it did not help much. I had regular bouts of home, and Hyderabad.

People who know me well, also know how much I adore Vizag. I keep saying it - it is the place to be. But I grew out of it back then. Even before I realized it, I fell in love with the city again.

I have probably written a lot about my friends in places and spaces I cannot recollect any longer, however, I have never written about the four girls who made my stay in Vizag more than wonderful, and made me fall in love with it again. With one step at a time though.

Anjani, Anuja, Niharika, and Prasanthi - you girls have contributed a lot to my happiness and bitter sadness. 

As we step into the eighth year of our friendship, I felt a testimonial to all that we cherished together had to happen.

Probably I wouldn't have put on even a little (Read a lot) weight if Niha wasn't there to feed me cake every single day. I wouldn't have known the joy in sharing food if not for Anjani and Anuja, and perhaps, I would have never taken all the critical feedback in good humour had Anjani never thrown sarcastic remarks on my face.

Maybe my walks in the rain would not have been this memorable if Niha wasn't there. Maybe I would not have bunked practicals if not for Anjani, and maybe I would have never picked fights with any friend if not for Anuja.

Maybe I wouldn't have laughed so much even when I was going through the worse days if not for these girls; and maybe I wouldn't have savoured street food so much if not for Anjani. Shopping with these girls was awfully great, and sharing our deepest secrets in the darkest of the days let me talk about things I would have never imagined I'd talk.

I have also learned how to lie most conveniently. I mean, I always had a good story to tell our principal each time we bunked a practical or a weekend exam. You see how they helped me? I started writing stories to protect me and my friends from drastic situations. I will give it you straight - my lies were an epic fail. No one ever believed me.

Vizag is a beautiful place. In many million ways, it is so simple. I wouldn't know a perfect weekend had I not watched a movie at Jagadamba, and go for a stroll at the RK beach, and make my friend walk miles in pursuit of reaching Tenneti Park. 

I would trade my place with anything to be in Vizag doing a writing job, and staying closer to my grandparents and family. 

Any day. I mean it.

If not for these girls, I might have never realized the beauty of this city, and how closely it held me during the nights I missed home

It is a home away from home, and these girls are totally family away from family. 

Like an old warm quilt.

Friday, May 23, 2014

Of Lost Love, Forgotten Emotions!

By Sunaina Patnaik at Friday, May 23, 2014 9 comments


“When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.” 

― George R.R. Martin



Sometimes, in a world full of a million people and their zillion dreams, we all drift into a moment where simple things mattered. The moments where we had boundless love, memories that were actually moments, sweet sense of joy, and bitter sadness that held us together.


Lost love. Forgotten emotions. Bittersweet memories. Nostalgia.

It is quite astonishing how the long talks about serendipity, love, heartbreak and the metaphors cannot justify the ethereal feeling of lost love.

While the memories are long gone and the pain has faded, I can still write about the lost love. Fondly!

Love is like a bowl of freshly made ice-cream. An ice-cream that has the best of cream, chocolate chips, and sprinkles. It has an aroma that reminds you of all the best moments in your life.

On a beautiful, rainy day, you sit in your favourite cafe, and savour your bowl of ice-cream. You enjoy it without thinking about anything, and when you finish it, you keep craving for more. Lost love, it ends in a fleeting moment, breaking your heart away, it makes you lose your senses, and after all the pain, you still crave it.

Emotions! So much for being a human.

Lost love, you leave a part of yourself there, and walk out in the storming rain, and this is when you cannot stop thinking about the repercussions, the dire consequences, and oh, the gory future.

You take time. The pain eventually fades. You smile. You are happy.

You take some more time. The pain completely fades. You laugh. You are infectiously happy.

But on odd nights, you hold a glass of whiskey in your hand, and reminisce all the good old moments where simply things made your life beautiful. As you listen to your favourite track by Coldplay, and swoon over Chris Martin's magical voice, you think of all the little moments that made your life alive and pink.

Lost love, amidst all the grandeur and morbid details of life, you made sense. You keep us, the hopeless romantics, emotionally alive. Even when everything makes us numb, the tiny detail of you makes us squeal in the night.

And it is strange how you still make sense in spite of being lost for an eternity!

 

God Made Me Funky! Copyright © 2012 Design by Antonia Sundrani Vinte e poucos