Skip to main content

My Cousin Rachel – Daphne du Maurier

It was Krishna’s wedding. Krishna, my closest pal during childhood; my first best friend (first best friend !! does that sound strange ? well ! at different times in life I had different best friends. Guys with whom I had nothing to hide and who hid nothing from me. My brothers.) All day I was wondering what to give . He generally was fond of things carved out of glass. The only doubt was whether he still liked showpieces . well , I thought I’d go to the shop and decide. Brigades was on the way. I decided to put at stop at Archies there to choose a gift. As always there was no place to park. Went downwards along Church Street looking for a space. Drove , drove and drove .. finally found a place to park. Turned around to see something that I would always love to see. Blossoms. Something was going on. Was it being renovated ? No , this was the newly furnished ground floor and was still being filled with books. I went to the first floor – straight to the du Maurier section. Eyes sought ‘My cousin Rachel’ . There it was – a greenish book with a lady draped in a green shawl looking directly at me. Behind her was a house , a villa. The villa was a bit far off. Between the villa and her one could see a lot of greenery. Trees all around and a well maintained lawn.

I turned the book and started with what was written on the back cover (I hate reading whatever is written in the back cover. I feel it somehow gives away the author, somehow cheats me , somehow doesn’t give me the right to let the events unwind in my mind since I start expecting things to happen. My best readings have come from books of which I hadn’t read an introduction , of which I knew nothing , expected nothing. I don’t know how many of you like to see movie trailers or would enjoy the movie after you have been told the story.) Anyway , the crime was committed. I read it in a single go ..

“Ambrose married Rachel and never returned home. His letters to his cousin hinted that he was being poisoned and when Philip arrived in Italy, Ambrose was dead…”

I’ll put a stop to Gorky and start with du Maurier. Shouldn’t one go after ones heart’s desire than fame ?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Other World

"Ankle deep, he waded through the bluebells. His spirit rose and exalted... as he breathed in the sun-drenched air. The glorious day was in its last decline. Long shadows lay on the sward... and from above the leaves dripped their shimmering drops of gold-green light. Moths and butterflies swarmed in merry hosts... flittering here, glimmering there. But, hush. Could that be a deer?" When we were searching for "Tess of d'Urbervilles" in the library memories rushed in, almost overwhelming me.  Memories of school days when I would look at a bookshelf and see different worlds, when Hercule Poirot and Dirk Pitt and Sherlock Holmes loomed larger than life, when the reality of life was less real than those in books,  when my sadness and happiness and mood changes did not depend on what happened in the life I was living but in the lives of characters that I was closely following,  when even though the only place I had been to, other than Bangalore, that too occasionally
4 comments
Read more

Through the testing glass

Surprise ! Surprise !! There is none who surprises himself more than me ! Am I a nerd? Far from it. Did I answer the questions wrong ? Nope. P had a single word answer for all unanswerable-incomprehensible questions - "Whatever !" He never knew they’d oppose so greatly to it. They were his close pals. He knew they’d tell things only for his benefit. But he’d made the decision already. Him - “Guys, I’ve signed up for MS.” K - “MS, you ? Robbie, you must be doing an MBA dude. That suits you more.” N - “MS doesn’t make sense to you at all.” T maintained silence. ** lot of talk/arguments for the next 2 hrs ** They were not the first ones. A lot of people had told him in the past to do MBA. He used to wonder – do they perceive him as a dumb techie ? did he actually have ‘it’ in him to be an MBA – to manage people, projects, to lead ? ugh ! he’d rather sit in a corner, read a book or just do the task that he’s assigned with. How could people perceive him as a person different from
3 comments
Read more

A Poet's Corner

Relived a wonderful moment when I accidentally read one of my old scribblings. There are some places where the moment you go, you feel completely at ease ; you’d stay, transfixed with a longing in your heart to be left there forever! It could be a library, a church, a temple, top of a mountain, a beach, an island, a hut in the middle of a forest, a river bank .. it could even be someone’s house. S’s house, it’s not a house, it is a being. The moment you enter, you feel a warm, smooth embrace. There is certainly something there.. something in the way the house was built, something in the way things were arranged, something in the way lighting was set up, something that kept you suspended in a dream-like state. The flute at the shelf near the bottom of the stairs was lazily placed but you felt as though it blew music into your mind. The winding stairs that led to a small study upstairs beckoned you to go up and when you did, it wasn’t merely going up in space, you felt as though yo
3 comments
Read more