Dreams in Prussian Blue- A Review

It is breezy, light, and meaningful. It is an excellent read, and an absolute page turner.

I am talking about Paritosh Uttam's maiden novel 'Dreams in Prussian Blue'.

Naina is the protagonist of the book. The book revolves around the lives of Naina, and her live-in boyfriend, and college art genius Michael Agnello.

Naina and Michael are both students at the Fine Arts college in Mumbai. Head over heels in love with Michael, Naina drops out of college with him, leaving behind her family and way of life. It is only after a while that she realises that life is not at all a bed of roses. All Michael is interested in doing is painting through the night. He refuses to share any of the other responsibilities at home, cranky and irresponsible most of the time. Naina struggles with many odd jobs, providing everything for Michael, including his painting supplies. Naina also works hard to get Michael some kind of recognition as a painting genius. The lack of Michael's cooperation on anything leads to failure in every aspect. Just when Naina's patience wears thin, and she is all set to leave Michael, tragedy intervenes. Michael loses his eyesight in an accident, and Naina is back to where she began in the first place. As she struggles to make both ends meet, and Michael happy, she has transcended to becoming a liar, and a cheat.

Will Michael ever forgive her for what she has done to him? Will she be able to forgive Michael, for pushing her to such ends? Or will there be two separate personal tragedies?

The novel is fast paced, and breezy. It delivers just what it promises to be, a Metro read. It goes to show the various nuances in the lives of live-in couples. It shows the consequences of rushing into any relationship without rational thought. It efficiently displays the sorrow, and despair prevailing in such life. It showcases the fact that a person with a passion, like art cannot be capable of adjusting in any other occupation. Blue seems to be the central theme of the book, as it is evident in the title. Whether it is Naina who is blue with sorrow, or Michael who in his blindness, cannot see anything else.

Almost throughout the book, the reader is sympathetic towards Naina. Naina has put all her dreams on hold for Michael's sake, who is insensitive to her needs, feelings or dreams. It is commendable that a male writer has been able to empathise so well, with what a woman goes through in such situations. What one must remember is that Michael is also a victim here, but merely of the circumstances. His views on life and materialism, though indifferent, ring the bell of truth.

The narrative technique is good. The time frame constantly shifts from the present to the past and back. It is something fresh, but definitely not something that is unheard of. It is character central. The characters have been dealt with very well.

It is fast paced, and leaves you dwelling upon the realities of life, as we know it. A good read.

Happiness :D

I never knew this feeling.

mind racing,

almost giddy,

almost heady,

my fingers tingling,

shivering a bit, but mainly tingling.

Stomach upside down,

light, full of butterflies.

eyes laughing,

twinkling all the while.

Feet, tapping to the music,

dancing to the music,

in my ears!

My lips streched,

into something more than a smile,

less than a laugh.

My heart seems full,

yet utterly weightless.

Is this what they call happiness?

I have heard so,

now, believe its true.

Sorry?

I had been a little apprehensive about the use of the word 'Sorry'. It is usually used very flippantly. People believe that one word is enough to erase all the hurt, and misgivings. Unfortunately, it takes a lot to say 'Sorry' and actually mean it. There are hardly any people left on this planet who say it, only when they mean it.

Sorry, is a word with a truck load of value, was my perception all along. But then, a thought struck me recently. By saying 'sorry' if peace is attained, or if 'sorry' saves a relationship, what is the harm in doing so? A story to demonstrate the same.

My best friend is like any other best friend. She is my confidante, and my guide. I turn to her for every problem that takes place in my life. Now, it so happened, that me and her had a huge argument about a play that we were to stage in school. We both said a lot of hurtful things to each other. Each of us was very upset by the other's behaviour. I kept my feelings to myself, and felt guilty for days together. Me, and her had stopped talking to each other, and even if we did, it was just some niceties. It was she who made the first step, she came to me one day after class, and gave me small 'sorry' card. That was it. We were back to being friends again. It was then that I noted that, both of us were guilty of hurting each other, but her thoughtfulness, had helped us get back together again.

It was then that I felt that in a disagreement it doesn't matter who apologises first. Friendship, love, and relationships are more important than the act of apologising. As long as peace in the relationship is brought back, 'sorry' is a very small price to pay for it.

There is a very beautiful quote I read, " Words are like bricks, you can build a wall or a bridge, the choice is yours." It is so true in this case. Holding onto one's ego, and refusing to apologise, can do more harm than the original fight itself; it leaves an impression of indifference.

Using our words well, and apologising are very important. Infact, apologising requires a lot of courage. Only acceptance of one's errors, can make a person apologise in a heartfelt manner.

And yet...and yet, you'll never know!

I'll be smiling when you see me,

the tears will never show,

I'll be hurting in every way,

and Yet, you'll never know.

My heart in a million pieces,

broken, and strewn everywhere,

hurling accuses at me,

all the way,

and Yet, you'll never witness,

my heart bearing stiches.

Angst will envelope me,

hold me cold and deep,

unfetching, and all in vain,

saddened by the treachery, so coy.

and Yet, you'll never suspect,

anything out of normal,

amiss or short.

Yet, I'll always love you,

but, You my dear, shall Never know.

P.S: Inspiration drawn for this poem from a few lines composed by Manmeet Singh, my friend from class 12.

Cheated on..

It hurt to even think about it.

I wondered, how long would it take me to get over this? Would I always find myself in tears thinking about it? Or worse, would I just stubbornly shut it all up in one corner of my brain, and never visit it again? Would I be able to do that? Or would I erupt with emotions like a volcano, unable to bottle up too much?

Nobody had ever told me it would feel like this. Nobody had prepared me for this one. Nobody ever even thought that it would happen to me. Anybody but me. We were easily the most ideal couple known to friends. Probably, that’s the reason we didn’t last. Ideal relationships don’t exist.

Our love story had been something right out of a Hindi movie, very dramatic. I had first laid my eyes on him during a dance workshop in my college. I was in the first year of college then, and he was in his final year. You could call it love at first sight. He looked like a Greek God to me. Those beautiful hazel eyes, the straight aristocratic nose, and the dimpled smile. He had completely swept me off my feet. The next day, he asked me out on a date. We hit off instantly. Every waking moment was in his company. After I graduated, he approached my parents. Things didn’t go down too well with them, we were of different castes. After a year, I did manage to convince my parents, but they’d made it plain that they’d have nothing to do with me after the wedding. I was dead to them.

Looking back at the way I thought we loved each other, and how much in love we were. It had been very difficult for me to believe that he had done this to me.

Somebody should gift me a self-help guide, which would probably go along the lines of "Rulebook for dumped, cheated-on wives."

For the first one month, my brain was filled with only one question. "Why?"
I was young, beautiful, intelligent, qualified, and sexy. I had been married to Amar, just over three years, when I found out about his extra curricular activities.

I had happened to come home early one winter afternoon, and found her in my silk robe, on his lap.

I was enraged, broken and felt betrayed. I could almost taste the hate and anger running through my body in my veins. I immediately filed for divorce, and he was more than happy to let go of me.

I always had very strong beliefs about adultery and the breach of trust in a marriage. For me, it was the worst thing a person could do to another. Nothing was worse than lying to a person who trusted and loved you the most. It was worse than murder. Murder just crumples the body; treachery crumples a person’s heart, rendering them unable to feel anything. Total numbness prevails.

Her name was Anita. At first, they were just colleagues at office. Later, "good friends". There were even times when we three would hang out together. Now thinking about it made me feel like, at all those get-togethers, Amar and Anita were always just silently laughing at how foolish I was. Unable to see, what they were doing to my life. They must’ve found it very amusing; I was tying the noose around my own neck without even knowing about it.
　
It’s been a year now, since I found out. I still find it difficult to think about it. It hurts. I know that my heart is somewhat mended, taped up to hold it together, but you can still see the cracks in it.

I doubt if I will fall in love ever again. I doubt if I will ever trust again.

But I also had beliefs about the way God functioned. When he closed a door in your face, he also opened a window to your back.