Music, such music is a sufficient gift. Why ask for happiness; why hope not to grieve? It is enough, it is to be blessed enough, to live from day to day and to hear such music – not too much, or the soul could not sustain it- from time to time.
Fell into a disturbed sleep some nights before wondering what this meant.
These are the last lines of Vikram Seth's An Equal Music, which I just HAD to finish before I slept [imagine having only a hundred pages to go and you leave it for the next morning…].
No point getting to the last line; I didn't digest what it meant. What, he resumes playing, or is content with his ad jingles? I tried desperately to put it out of my mind. And slept.
Then the nightmare began. I couldn't understand what I read. No, not even the middle chapters of An Equal Music, that were so simply written. Not Upamanyu Chatterjee, RK Narayan… not even Enid Blyton! Not the usual stuff my nightmares are made of but just as scary.
2 am, I bolted out of bed looking for my inhaler; a sudden attack there, due to the shock of the nightmare and the cold weather.
I couldn't find it Anywhere, not on the bedside table or under my pillow, not the floor, nowhere!
Oh, thank god, I'd just snoozed off and that was just another nightmare; here is my inhaler, right in my pocket. *Whiff* *whiff* *cough*
I woke in the morning, and reached for The Bangalore Times [Excellent Sudoku, but little else to look forward to; maybe the never-wrong TV listings…].
"Today is Plain English Day" the cover page said.
Ah, thank god atleast someone recognizes my needs.
Epilogue:I read Vikram Seth again, and understood it perfectly. Just to make sure, I went through Upamanyu Chatterjee, RK Narayan and Enid Blyton and found no difficulties understanding what they said.
I believe verbosity is not a sin, as long as it conveys to your readers what you want to say. "Simplify and Unify" need not necessarily be the backbone of good writing 'coz reading isn't for timepass alone.
Currently reading Milton's Paradise Lost.