I like big books and I cannot lie!
In a world where there is a constant need for instant gratification, I often find myself taking the long route. And don’t I just love it!
In a world which loves it’s one-minute-viral-Reel-songs, I have always loved the long songs, classical music and ghazals — like the ones which take their time to unfold and reach a crescendo in it’s 8th or 9th minute, and take you along in its journey to a different world.
I love old (because its rare in the modern world) slow-burner movies which take time to build, absorb you completely and then hit you the hardest when you least expect it, usually at the very end.
In a world of terribly tiny tales and short poems, I love big books with hundreds of pages; or even those magnificent short stories by O. Henry and Anton Chekhov which stay with you for a life time. I love the characters which slowly reveal their many layers and still leave a lot to imagination. And as much as I love fiction, I find myself drawn more towards non-fiction for it’s truth and rawness.
In the world where systematic attention-deficit and constant need for validation and visibility is being created by social media, I try to to save little pieces of the real-me. The one-minute songs which have a catchy high point and then nothing more to it; the OTT platforms churning movies by the dozen you would hardly remember the names of — it takes a conscious effort to not lose myself in it.
I don’t want instant gratification . I enjoy the process of finer things slowly revealing themselves to me. I’m hanging on to the old world charms. But I can feel it slipping away slowly through the sands of time.