In passing

By passerby

Ageing differently

I pity the ones who have lost their faith in the simplicity, and their belief in truth. They are better avoided.

A direct and through-provoking article aroused my curiosity. I wanted to know more. Came across a compelling interview, which will surely make me buy a book after I am done with Dostoevsky. The young Indian author is Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghvi and here's an extract:

"I don't think India has inspired my writing in as much as it has the process of writing. India is naturally and relentlessly dramatic: here, the narrative is of life's conflict with itself - and this drama never folds up, there is no curtain call. The natural chaos of India makes you think in ways that are not always linear - and this either broadens your understanding of what is logical, or transcends it entirely. And when you sidestep logic, the world before you is much larger and zanier. To live happily in India you have to bypass logic to some extent. And maybe that's also where magic lies: ahead of the rationale and the explicable."

...

"Music is the canvas upon which I imagine my stories: it's the stuff I lay on all the ideas, the themes, the conflicts. I also use music to store scenes as well as to follow an internal narrative. I can play a certain piece of Chopin and know exactly how it connects me to a scene in The Last Song of Dusk. Music is more important to me than literature because it articulates more purely and accurately what language can only hope to accomplish."


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