Saturday, October 20, 2012

Reader's Block

I know it's temporary! Just a few days back I ranted about how I was so much into reading, and I read more than half a dozen of books! And it was a nice feeling, you know! It's good to have someone else, apart from your ego blabber inside your mind. I had the authors tell me nice stories and things, which made me sway away to distant lands of dreams and imagination, afar from all the hustle and bustle of the city and commotion of the people around.

I was having a nice time with books! But I think I spoke too much, that's the reason why it got jinxed! I am not able to read anything. Oh no! everything's perfect with my eyes, and my pair of specs, but this is just something which I cannot understand. I just cannot read! I am not able to grasp anything, ANYTHING. And, it is astounding. Because books used to be my source of solace!

Well, now that I am writing about it, I think I know what caused it! I started off with "One Hundred Years of Solitude" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. It was an ebook. I scrolled pages after pages, reading the words and making sense of the foreign names which I couldn't pronounce. After flipping more than 15 pages, I realised, I hadn't grasped the plot yet! I felt horrible. I did not wanted to go back and catchup with the lost part, because I realised, I 'd have to begin reading all over again!

I appreicate the book. Really. It is one of the must-read novels and people have given some amazing feedback about it. But to me it is sheer Greek. I don't understand it! Such a high level of writing is something which is not my cup of tea!

Whenever I write poems, absurd, weird, abstract ones, I have people tell me how beautiful I've written. I thank them. But when I go back and read them after 2 years or so, it makes no sense to me. I wonder, how did people understand what I wrote, and what was I really thinking when I did that. The fact is, only I would have understood what it meant, if I were in that frame of mind, and of course at that point of time it would have been beautiful. But with time, it probably becomes obsolete!

Same is the case with novels like these. They are perhaps written in the 19th century or later, in a particular setup - say war or crisis, and at that time, perhaps, it would have made a lot of sense. Or rather, the people of that particular nation would still be able to extract some sense out of it, but I would never be able to do that!

Give me anything to read on history of India, I would eagerly read it, but a foreign writer describing something in his local setup rarely makes sense.

The book is well acclaimed, but I find it unreadable. With due respect to the writer and the readers who have found that book interesting, I'd say, I have lost the urge to read anything after reading "One hundred years of solitude".

When I try to read "What young india wants" by Chetan Bhagat, I feel weird too. I don't blame it on CB. I blame it on the previous read! It's like tasting a weird syrup, and then trying to drink coke. The former's taste still persists! You don't enjoy it anymore and end up hating coke too!

So for time being, I think it's reader's block!

I think by the time I overcome the reader's block, I should cash on the writer's unblock! :D