Monday, August 8, 2011

I was never a big fan of Indian writers. For some reason, ignorance or conceit, I never actually let myself read something by an Indian author, with the prior notion that I wouldn't enjoy it.
However, today St. Francis and internals played a compelling role in making me read two wonderful literary pieces by Girish Karnad and Geeta Mehta. Restless soul that I am, I sat unmoving. I forgot everything/everyone for that brief period while I was immersed in these gripping stories, told so simply. There is nothing like reading something that stirs your emotions at the most basic level. And then there's the fact that no one understands the core of your culture like a fellow Indian. I've always loved a book/text that makes me think, that has me absorbed to the extent that I have to remind myself I'm not part of the story. And these two did just that.  I have a new found love for my English department and the syllabus they choose for us. If only I had realized this two years ago.