Good Morning!

There is something mesmerizing about dawn...the chirping of birds, the chilly fog lifting as the sun's first rays come penetrating through, the reddish orange morning sun smiling down upon you-these have been time and again described in prose and poetry alike. But what struck me today was the unusual calm of the hostel, the deserted campus road, save for the rare morning joggers, the crunchy leaves that lay on the road having breathed their last, the scritch-scratch of the broom of the early sweeper, the dog on the roadside barely opening its lazy eyes to watch me jog by, the aroma of the first cup of coffee from the roadside chai-walla, and as time ticked by, the campus sprung to life...Yes, there is indeed something about the dawn-refreshing,exhilarating,rejuvenating,calming; something inexplicable that cannot be read about, but only be experienced. And if you own a pair of shoes, it only gets better.

The morning jog brings a unique bag of surprises to each one's mind...to some it is refreshing views on past issues, to some it is favourite lines from a book long forgotten, to yet others it is the tingling excitement of the day ahead. The morning run is also surprisingly adaptive, it either clears your head of disturbing issues as you concentrate on your steps, or it helps you focus and concentrate better on some thought.

If you are one of those to whom early morning means 10:00 am, trust me, you are missing out on something wonderful that life has to offer you...Kick out of bed at 6, get those jogging shoes out and run your campus road...But let me warn you, be prepared for addiction :)

A Train to Pakistan

It's amazing how when you decide to do something with all your heart, there's nothing stopping you. After 3 semesters of book-starvation at Kgp, I finally decided to make time to read a good book, no matter how loaded I was. And that's how I came to read "A Train to Pakistan" this week with sheer dedication, ignoring my forthcoming mid-semesters. It was worth it.
I've heard Khushwant Singh to be a great critique, but this book is different. I'm guessing it's one of his first, since it was published in 1956! The book beautifully captures the India-Pakistan partion, not from a wide perspective but from an insignificant village on the border. It portrays how human emotions harden, how man changes in terrible times such as these. It makes you wonder about the value of human life, rather the absense of it. The riots between Sikhs and Muslims, trains filled with slaughtered humans crossing the border both ways, people fleeing their homes only to be murdered elsewhere have been described vividly by many a writers. But what makes Khushwant Singh unique is his book dwells not on the inhumanness of these acts, but the inevitable change for the worse that the human mind and heart go through in times when men are mindlessly wiped off the Earth.
Not forever does the bulbul sing
In balmy shades of bowers,
Not forever lasts the spring
Nor ever blosson flowers.
Not forever reigneth joy,
Sets the sun on days of bliss,
Friendships not forever last,
They know not life, who know not this.
-from A Train to Pakistan.

Thanks to my extremely generous neighbour who willingly lent me this book, and expected nothing in return, but a word of gratitude in this post :)