Saturday, August 11, 2018

8 Books Which Have Influenced Me


The 9th day of August is usually significant for most book lovers across the world. Not surprisingly, it is denoted as the Book Lovers day. Not that a book lover needs a specific day to love books, but then again, it’s always good to have a “day” you can relate to. So, two days back as I lay surfing the net after a days’ work, I found post after post of people enlisting the books which have made a significant difference to their lives or have taught them some valuable lesson. I often enjoy going through these lists as they are a good source of discovering great books. This year, however, I noticed one particular trend. Now to be fair, most of the people whose lists I skimmed through are the “Corporate Types” and the general leaning within this fraternity seems to be towards books belonging to the non-fiction category. What surprised me, however, was how almost all the learning seemed to centre on making more money or improving their work life. I’m all for such books, but surely books can teach us much more, no? With this in mind, I set upon making a list of 8 books which have had some bearing on the way I think and the way I approach life. Each one of them is a masterpiece in their own way.

Please Note – I strongly believe that fiction plays just as important a role in influencing us as non-fiction and thus I have listed an equal number of fiction books. If your belief is to the contrary, I hope this list makes you pick up at least one of these masterpieces.

1)      The Hobbit – J.R.R. Tolkien

Published in 1937 initially for children, this book has struck a chord with people of all age groups. A simple, timid and fun loving character reluctantly decides to accompany a bunch of unruly strangers on a perilous adventure and discovers that life beyond the comfort zone has as much to teach as it has to intimidate. This classic tribute to the “underdog” demonstrates that no matter how small or insignificant you may seem to the world and more importantly to yourself, you can battle all kinds of dragons and be that difference which the world needs. Also, to be there and back again is much better than to have stayed put and lament the unknown.

2)      The Alchemist – Paulo Coelho

This 1988 masterpiece features on almost every “must read” list, deservedly so. A young pilgrim sets out on the journey to discover a mythical stone with legendary powers, in the process he discovers a more important secret, his own self. In this materialistic world of desires one often forgets the most crucial element to success, will. It is this will to succeed that causes the universe to bring success to you. Most of us grapple with our “wants”; a better life, a better job, a better car, riches etc. and blame everyone but ourselves for our failures. Few of us set out on our very own journey to discover the elixir of life. It is our mind that is the alchemist in search of the elixir, “Will” we ever find it?

3)      How I raised myself from failure to success in selling – Frank Bettger

      Another timeless classic, this book was first published in the year 1949 yet 69 years later it continues to inspire and motivate salespersons across the world. The story of how a one-time baseball rookie, with nothing but determination as his ally goes from being a mediocre insurance agent to a salesperson of legendary stature is awe-inspiring. This book teaches one the importance of determination and the constant need to improve and/or improvise. Being in the profession of selling constantly throws challenges at you, much like life. It tests your ability to make decisions. Things do not often go your way, but resourcefulness as a virtue comes handy. What’s most important is to introspect, learn from past mistakes and take steps to remedy them. Also, a sale for the sake of selling is no sale at all.

4)      Sherlock Holmes – Arthur Conan Doyle

The most popular and sought after detective in literary history has many life lessons up his sleeve for the keen observer. The science of deduction, as he calls it, is just as fabled as its stellar practitioner. Single minded focus on the task at hand, calmness in the face of adversity, and usage of cold, calculative logic to solve the gravest of problems are three virtues each one of us can benefit from. The obsessive need to imbibe only that knowledge which is relevant while weeding out the rest ensures insulation from distractions, which today seem omnipresent. His unwavering loyalty to methods and opinion which to others may seem absurd but often lead him to success shows tremendous self-confidence and belief. “Everybody sees, but few observe” is a phrase which often describes the differentiator between problem solvers and those who cannot. That a man as celebrated as him has his faults portrays the humane side to genius. Also, greatness needs chronicling to achieve that legendary status, usually at the hands of willing lieutenants.

5)      Man’s search for meaning – Viktor Frankl

How many times have you complained about the supposed difficulties of life or declared, “That’s it, I can’t do it anymore.”? Now if doing just that could cost you your life, what would you do? This literary masterpiece, published in 1946, is an ode to human survival instinct and more importantly, hope. As an inmate at Auschwitz concentration camp in Nazi occupied Poland, the author lived through horrors most of us can hardly imagine. His experience makes us realise that the human body and mind can face any situation as long as there is hope. No odds are insurmountable to those who believe they can beat them. With all the modern comforts and privileges our “survival instinct” is hardly, if ever, tested. Yet, it never leaves us. Like a watchful protector it awaits its calling subconsciously. In the words of Christopher Reeve, “Once you choose hope, anything’s possible.

6)      The Gift – Cecilia Ahern

A relatively lighter read, this delightful book is a must read for all the “workaholics” out there. It is a simple story of an individual so deeply invested in his work that he has little time for anything else, including life. In this competitive world where being a workaholic is a matter of pride for most, do we ask ourselves why is it that we work? Is it a means to an end or an end in itself? Most importantly, what if we never get the time to fulfil that dream because we were so busy working for it and not towards it? We must value not only our work but also the reason behind it. In the process of earning a living, we mustn’t forget to live life.

7)      Mein Kampf – Adolf Hitler

A simple yet profound learning from this autobiography is that humans will find justification for any act, no matter how atrocious. When hatred consumes you, no act seems wrong, no atrocity seems outrageous and no cost seems high enough.

8)      Harry Potter – J K Rowling

As a series which got me hooked on to reading, I have to admit no book/work of art has moved me more than these 7 books. For a kid growing in the 90s and early 2000s, the words of Albus Dumbledore were magically therapeutic. “Do not pity the living Harry, pity the dead and above all those who live without love.” Indeed, the most important message of this fantasy epic is Love and goodness within the human heart. It is this love that influences most of our actions throughout our lives. Love for our children, parents, spouse, siblings, country, animals, etc. Every action we take is influenced by our love for something and it is the goodness within us which steers our action towards the positive side. In this scorching desert of hate, love is that oasis which humanity, filled with thirst, seeks. Numerous wide-eyed readers like me have been influenced by the wisdom of Albus Dumbledore and continue to believe that “Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”

I have read a lot of books in the last 14 years and I will read many more in the future, but these 8 books will always be the ones I turn to in times of need. Go ahead, pick one up if you haven’t already and let the magic take over. As Stephen King says, “Books are a uniquely portable magic.”


Happy Reading.

Dhruv.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

I am God

 I am God, and God is me. Everything that is, is mine and everything that can be, will be due to me.

Once upon a time, there was a place, a land of wonder. Beauty abound, it was a spectacle in the canvas of the universe. The splendor of the place lied in its various oxymoron’s. It was a world of conflict, yet it was at peace. It lay there awaiting its master, the arrival of whom was but a matter of time. I am that master and Earth is my conquest.

I wasn't always the power that I am today, born from a single cell I have faced struggle all through my quest for domination.  Slowly but steadily I evolved, change I knew was the only option I had if I was to establish my supremacy over this realm. I had many adversaries over the years both, alive as well as nature induced, but perseverance has a way of overcoming even the strongest of obstacles, and overcome I did.

You see, power doesn't lie in knowing how to use brute force, true power lies in knowing that you have the power.  I discovered that very early and I realized where my power lay. While others had brains, I had something much more potent. I had a mind, and I trained It. Steadily but surely my power grew, and with power also grew my influence. I was now becoming a master of my surroundings, but then again who wanted just the surroundings? I started spreading my arms, and widening my reach, greed being my sole motivator.

As time passed, the force I wielded became insurmountable, my adversaries, once abundant all around were now my prisoners, and the tables had turned on them. I remember the way they hunted us, as we lay helpless, hungry packs pouncing on us. Now it was my turn, they were mine to hunt, mine to protect. I am revengeful, I am not merciless. I protect those i hunt too, you see I am a benevolent God.

The land that was my wonder once is now my kingdom, I own it and I decide its fate. So what if some palaces burn. I’ll just build them back. The gifts of the ground now belong to me, they are mine to use or misuse. So what if they may be limited, I’ll just find an alternative .My power is now unlimited.

I am one, yet I am not. My existence is no longer an example of singularity. I have countless personalities, and with greater numbers come greater conflicts. The splendor of colours is now engulfed in a ravenous darkness, but then again, I am the ruler and it Is all mine.


I can’t be beaten, just not yet. I will survive and make the sun set. My power is my mind, not an illusion .Who am I? I am the Father, I am the son, and the God of this world. I am Human.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

I will Live

I will live, I will live
Give me a chance
Yes I will live.

Believe me for i say no lies.
Cant you see that in my eyes?
Give me a chance, I will live.

Take my wealth, I care for it not.
my shelter too, I need it not, 
For my soul tells me that I will live.

As my Journey takes me higher,
My hands might shake,
My legs might tire
It may seem like the end is near,
Yet, i will live yes i will live

The darkness,its said will surely come
Bringing along times troublesome 
Yet give up on the quest, i will not.
'Cos I wish to live, so i will live.



Thursday, October 23, 2014

Do it,Today

"Is there something that needs to be done?"
"Yes there is, but for today there is none."
"Then when shall you do this work?"
"Tomorrow maybe, just stop being a jerk."

Have you ever had this little argument?
With your friend,sibling, or maybe parent.
Yes, you say you have, don't you?
I know you do, cause i've had them too.

Work always keeps piling on,
Ever increasing, why isn't it ever begone?
Boring as hell it may often seem,
Beneath your stature, many it may deem.

But work it is, your very own,
Do it you must, haven't you always known?
Then why leave it for another day,
Why leave the tea, to cool off on the tray?

Is it so hard to do what's needed?
Today, and not tomorrow instead.
Should you really lay off your responsibility,
Till it does reflects on your ability?

Do it now, i say you must,
'Cause only then you do what's right and what's just.
Procrastination is never the right way,
Why do it tomorrow, when you can do it today. 



Thursday, June 12, 2014

Finding the Dark


Caution - If you haven't read Before the Dark, do not proceed further.You can read it here


"Oh come on, you call that greatness?" Mr.Gibbon spat ,a look of disgust on his round and by now red face. "What he has done is no great deed, he is just an ordinary man with an unusual name that's it."
"Look at you, Gladwell Gibbon, you foolish man. You still don't accept it, do you? He has lured you and your damned group of men right into his lair, sure you have me captured but then, i am hardly of any good, aren't i? You have no bargaining power Gibbon your days are numbered."
"We'll see about that", sneered the Captain of the Redemption Society as he turned towards Roman with a sharp knife in his hand. "Tell me the rest of the story boy or ill slice off your ear." and he placed the knife right beneath his right ear-lobe.
"okay, okay."said Roman as he continued his tale.
"He blended so well within our family that after a year it was difficult to even imagine that he wasn't infact a part of it till as near as a year back. He would help my father with his Dairy and then help me with my studies. For a boy who never went to school he was unusually intelligent. He was sharp, very sharp. Nothing ever missed his eye. He was 14 when i found him and in a year the transformation was remarkable. The small, squeaky, timid boy had gone and the one that took his place was tall, confident and mysterious. He seemed to write a lot and the diary that he kept was like a treasure, he kept it so well guarded that i had seen it only once. Till i finally got a chance to read it three years later. But other than this he hardly seemed to be any trouble. My father even started to consider handing him the dairy business so he could permanently shift to Livingsworth. But a sedentary life at Big City was hardly what He wanted so he refused. Saying something about other plans. We never knew then what his plans were, and i wished i would never have found out. He left-"
Roman stopped short as another man dressed in the same military camouflage as Capt.Gibbons entered the room. "Sir, its one of the ships, Claude 1. They are hit bad."
"How many left?"
"Twenty three of our's against Three Hundred from their end, they attacked sooner than we expected"
"God Damn ---", Gibbon cursed, "Go to the tower and get me Commander Von Ham on the line, NOW." he bellowed as the soldier ran out of the room. "You wait here, i'll be back to finish our little story.Till then you have time to decide where your priorities lie. One wrong move and my men outside the room will not hesitate to shoot you like an animal." Saying that he left the room shutting the door behind him.
As Roman heard the click of the lock he wondered how and when did things get so far.
He was always a bit cautious around his new friend but not in his wildest dreams did he think that the hatred He harbored was so deep rooted.
He had recounted the stories of his Orphanage and Roman heard with horror the atrocities that the young children had to bear. But what scared him most, gave him sleepless nights was the confession that the master of Telling Tales Home for Children was murdered, neck sliced from one end to the other in his sleep by a timid little 14 year old. That was the day Roman started sniffing into the life of his friend, who now seemed something much different that what he had initially thought. But it was not until two years later, 21 June 1956, precisely that he found out the truth.
The Summer of 1956 was one of the hottest anyone had spent in recent memory and as usual Roman and the entire family was at Livingsworth on their summer visit. Having tried to locate the Diary unsuccessfully at his home in the city, Roman was more and more desperate to find it and read it. All his efforts seemed futile as the Diary seemed untraceable yet Roman knew,as he walked through the narrow lanes of the village that the Little Book held all the answers he needed and that it was too important to be lost. The most difficult part had been to pretend that nothing was wrong and that all was just as it had always been, yet he doubted that his fears were not a secret. There was a slight difference in the camaraderie between the two boys ever since that confession was made and Roman knew that he had to find that book as soon as he could. As he neared the shack where it had all begun, a sudden thought hit him. Like a flash of light Roman ran into the shack and frantically started looking around. He scaled the entire shack and finally reached the corner where four years back he had stared into those mesmerizing eyes. He noticed the the tiling was a bit loose and lifted it from the floor. There was a hollow pit under the tile, the size of a small box. Roman reached out his arm into the pit and with a jolt of excitement laid his hand on something slim and leathery. He knew he had found it and as he pulled it out, he could feel his heart in his mouth. Finally his search was over, he thought as he retrieved the black book from its underground pit. With shivering hands he opened the book and there on the first page written in a bold, neat hand was,
 "THE DIARY OF MORDRIC ZATANION"
At last,Roman thought as he found the first entry, that he was about to unravel the Secret of his friend, Mordric-
A loud thud brought him back to the reality as the door of the room flew open and Gibbon came flying into the room, seething with anger,"Two of my ships have been lost boy, you better tell me the story or i will blow your head off."
Foolish man, Roman said to himself as he began his tale yet again, he thinks he has a chance....

To be Continued...soon.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Before the dark

It was a rainy day,yes a rainy day, I remember playing in the park with the kids from the neighborhood,splashing water and jumping across puddles. Indeed, it was one of the rainiest days the village of Livingsworth had seen in years.Livingsworth. The name still induces a feeling of nostalgia. Those quaint two storied row houses, with their conjoined terraces. The narrow,crooked lanes that slithered their way through the entire village. The village centre and all its activities, the tea houses and the knowing looks of the elders as you walked your way through the alleys. Ah! how can i ever forget that place.
I, who spent most of the year living in the Big City, for me Livingsworth was more than just a place. It was a haven. A sanctuary to get away from the hustle bustle of the Big City.

And so it was that on that day as i was in the park having fun in the downpour that i saw him for the first time. He was just a child, dripping wet and shivering. He was cowering in one of the old, unoccupied shacks, which until a few years back belonged to an impoverished smith who, one night in a drunken rage, had murdered his wife and children and then committed suicide . Since then, the shack was unoccupied and falling apart. The roof was in such a bad condition that it hardly could keep the water out. He was right there, and i couldn't take my eyes off him. Even in such a pitiable condition, there was something about him that stumped me. Something in the way he was looking at us playing while he cowered, alone and cold. His eyes, i can never forget that look, seemed to blame us for his troubles. Those cold, hate-filled eyes.

Before i had the time to think , i felt myself walking towards him. There was something in those small, grey eyes that was strangely hypnotic,and there i was right in front of him still transfixed by those eyes.
"Hey, i am Roman, are you new to Livingsworth?"
No reply. He kept staring at me with the same look for sometime and then suddenly got up and walked inside the house. I was taken aback, and honestly felt a bit insulted. But yet i decided to follow him . So i walked into the shack. It was damp and stuffy in there. The holes in the wall let some light enter the otherwise dark place. I followed him till the very back before he stopped and turned. Those eyes,i observed, had completely transformed. From the piercing,blaming look to a look of fear and pain, the change was astonishing.
"Please don't hurt me", he pleaded in a small squeaky,almost feminine voice. The fear in his voice made me feel pity for the boy."I won't hurt you", i assured. "Who are you?". Still he did not reply. We both stood there in the damp place looking at each other. Maybe my silence gave him confidence."My name is--"

You know what the name was sir.Even then when i heard it, the name seemed strange, funny, sinister even. But he relaxed after that, and started talking. He told me he was not from Livingsworth and that he was an orphan, also that he had come to the village in search of a shelter as the masters at his orphanage would regularly beat the children there.

I took him to my house and my father let him stay as a helper in his dairy business. We became friends and were almost as close as brothers. All was well, until the fateful summer four years later.The summer of 1956. If i had known then what this boy would do in the future, i would have never gone inside the shack. But those eyes, i knew the moment i saw them, they were destined to see greatness, to see things no ordinary eyes ever could.

 And that they did...


To be continued....