Monday, February 27, 2012

In The Mirror ......


BOOK REVIEW: Love, Me and Bullshit!


The year was 2004!! The paperback revolution in India started in that year itself. With the advent of a new trend of narrating self – experience in colleges – the long starved readers started relating with the dizzy nostalgia of umpteen recklessness of their own post teen days. Or repenting for what they missed. And for the mass, it was relishing the glimpse of their larger than life dream college life. And, in no time, the trend became a style – a shield-like attribute that any IIT/IIM alumni should possess. And, it increased the readership exponentially – the youth of India once again returned to the age old habit of reading novels – hats off to Chetan Bhagat !! and also to Peter Robinson !!

And, in Love, Me and Bullshit! – the author too acknowledged Bhagat’s contribution to inspire him for getting started. But, he has chosen a different path. Perhaps he was not too keen on making his book an “inspiration” for another Hindi movie.

The narrative is set on a time frame of 3 years – that portrays the juncture of any human life – the complexities of desire, love, lust and all that jazz.

Through the eyes of the protagonist, the author gives a vivid description of the inner conflict of a human mind. The mind that feels depressed as a friend gets to ride on his dream – the mind that repents for not chasing a “lion” – the mind that longs for someone to share his biggest happiness of life with – it is actually a graphic narrative of an honest mind that does not hesitate to unleash the feelings hiding in the darkest and the furthest nook of the heart.
The narration of the deep frustration is very real.Raw. It hurts. Itches your skin. The story makes you identify the poet, the philosopher and the beast in you.  It reflects the strength of inner belief in the God throughout.

 Love, Me and Bullshit! by Vivek Kumar Agarwal
The writing is smooth, sometimes allegorical with imageries. I loved the way the author portrayed the essence of love. It has no reason. Not physical. Not platonic. It simply happens and slowly creeps into the highest rung of prioritization of our mind. And, we become ready to sacrifice anything – just anything.



But the story strangely restricts itself only within the inner feelings of the protagonist. Though the readers are highly acquainted – it does not even trod the way of fun and glamour. Although it is humorous at times, the story mostly reflects the gloomy side of human psyche. The conflict within. The author proclaims himself as a victim of melodramatic Hindi movies – but he safely avoided a gripping climax. Be it the same old story – we always love to bite our nails in the climax scene.
But the book scores differently.  It scores in the odd way that inspires one to listen to his heart against all possible odds bypassing all lucre of prosaic grace.

And, in the end it will make you stand in front of the mirror. You will notice the poet in you on your right, aloof – you will notice the philosopher on your left, aloof – and the beast in you is …… well, some things are best when left unsaid. The position of the beast in the mirror I mean!!