Thursday, 24 October 2013

The Fault In Our Stars. Metaphor love.

Henri, there might be a book which makes you loose all sense of reality and truth and make you long for the book to never end. Then there are books which makes you rethink your entire existence and then after you finish you the book you realize that all that is left of you is a hollow empty shell that you cannot see filling up in the near future.
And then there is The Fault in Our Stars.
*Might Contain Spoilers*
I have written and erased this line so much. I know I tend to exaggerate a lot and the expression of my affection for things is rather alarming to some people, but when I say TFIOS is the book that makes you laugh, cry and then makes you want to curl up and continue crying and then you re read it again, repeating the same cycle of crying and laughing over and over again, then I'm not exaggerating.
It is hard not to fall in love with TFIOS. At first you'd be all, 'Oh it's another brave cancer kid surviving story' But then comes the Top Graduate in The Department Of Crooked Smiles, Augustus Waters.
The book is a love story. It is a love story in the truest sense. It has romance, foreign trips, and a tragedy. It happens to feature cancer ridden humans, but it is not a cancer story.
The Brilliant John Green writes about death in a frank, unapologetic manner which is highly refreshing and deeply profound at the same time.
He makes you fall in love with the characters slowly, slowly and then all at once ( if you have read TFIOS you would know the reference).
The Brilliant John Green is so Brilliant that he creates a work of fiction in a work of fiction then uses quotes from the former work of fiction in the latter work of fiction. 
Sample this: That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt.
If your mind isn't blown away by this then there is something fundamentally wrong with you.
TFIOS is filled with quotes that make you want to stop and put down the book and scream at the mere awesomeness of it all. 
Sample this: My thoughts are stars that I can't fathom into constellations.
The Brilliant John Green veers the book from sweetly romantic to Gut Wrenchingly, Hysterical Tears Inducing and Overwhelming Depression Engulfing Every Pore of Your Body tale.
He doesn't conform to the conventional norms of this genre, where the dying person keeps their hopes and good spirits up until the point they stop, to quote from TFIOS, suffering from Personhood (seriously, it is brilliant).
I have read it countless times now, and I still face the same above stated reaction while reading the book. It is beautiful and powerful.
If you're still not motivated enough to read that book, Henri, then you're a soulless monster.
Just kidding, you're a part of my imagination, OFCOURSE you love TFIOS.
Till the next time
River Targaryen

Monday, 14 October 2013

Existential Crisis!!

Now that I've caught your attention with a fancy sounding title, let me assure you that this letter once again contains my profound revelations about my own life. Yes, I have managed to one up you in the 'self absorbed' stakes, Henri.
But on a much serious note (yeah right!) I suffered from a serious case of self doubt over the 'future' recently. I am not really proud of how I came about this sudden 'crisis'. 
I don't think you have any idea how obsessed I am with the idea of writing for Cosmo. It is one of my life's ambition to work at Cosmo (it's not saying much since one of my ambition in life is to poke my Journalism professor in the stomach and see if the rumors about his abdomen being covered by acrylic sheet instead of skin are actually true)
Anyways, I had always imagined myself, very conveniently, placed in Cosmo right after college and working there as a columnist. Now all my well laid plans of Cosmo glory are awry.
And why you ask? The Existential Crisis, my beautiful imaginary friend. 
I came across an article, while surfing Cosmo's website, 'How sexy bitches kiss: 10 ways that sexy bitches kiss'. I kid you not.
The 'EC' (acronyms are cool) came crashing onto me as I thought: Do I want to write about the techniques used by sexy bitches to kiss?
And it led to a chain reaction of questions and uncertainties for the future arouse in my brain. 
The idea of future scares me. Future has always been so abstract. And now it is in our faces expecting us to make *shudder* decisions.
I had everything planned. It was not a good plan, not even a feasible one, but it was a plan nonetheless.
I would get out of college. Work for Cosmo for a couple of years and then open my own bookstore. 
But now stupid reality has given me a big check and my previously held beliefs about my glorious future at Cosmo are being questioned.
Another thing working against me is the fact that I cannot write when told what to write. It's as if all the things I know and have learnt about writing, just fall right out of my brain. So faced with the mother of writing blocks, I came upon this realization.
The only option left for me is to do a J.K Rowling and become successful enough to write on my own accord. But you and I, both, know that the chances of that are slimmer than me riding my unicorn up to the moon.
I envy you. What with being imaginary and all that, you don't have to worry about the future or what you're going to do with your life. 
So I will figure out what I can do to become rich and famous, without doing anything and you continue to live your glamorous imaginary existence.
Till the next time.
River Targaryen