π

It was another day at the grind and exams the previous week hadn't gone quite as I wanted but nonetheless I survived to live another day. The following days were our last in this horrible place, where people came in dozens curled up in pain or "electively" as "they" like to say (who would do such a thing electively?) in order to be put under the knife, consenting for their innermost to be explored in the literal sense of it. After weeks of torture it was finally going to be over, our seniors didn't say much but you could feel they were starting to give way and allow us time to ourselves as it came well earned after many a long day. 

My friend casually asked me would you like to go to the cinema with her and I said yes quickly. I embraced every moment of not being here. So it was decided we would go the following day after the early morning march around the wards and barrage of questions for which we seldom knew the answer. On that fateful day my monthly reminder came and so I was in cramping fits but on the surface I was as quiet as a sleeping baby only giving away my torment with a slight crease of the forehead ever so often. But it was decided so I took what I could and off we went not without a few glitches but alas we went. 

Now it would be a great opportunity to say I had no idea what exactly we were going to see and neither did I care much. On arriving I read the charts it was single screen cinema showing a double and they were (in no particular order) Breaking Dawn pt 2 and Life of Pi. The first was somewhat familiar but I must confess I've never seen any of the previous parts in full and I really don't care to but here I was seeing the 3rd part...or is it the 4th? I have no idea but all in all I couldn't care less, I was just here to relax and refresh my dulled out senses. 
With eminent hunger on its way I made my way to the cafeteria to stock up for an estimated 3 1/2 hours of audio-visual entertainment. Yet again I had to be contented with pastry when I really wanted something savoury to eat, it was the midday showing after all. Too little places cater to our every Halal needs. Nevertheless I sat and was pleased to see curtains retracted and having seated midway into the cinema hall it felt comfortable and soothing. After a few minutes of new adverts for upcoming movies to entice the crowds to come back the first one started...I heard music...south-east asian music to be exact..hmm queer. Clearly I didn't have a hoot about the other movie. Saw some animals, all in a very ethnic setting. I was perplexed, this must be that other movie about the life of someone, maybe it was an Indian. 

I sat back and from the very start to the finish my curiosity peaked. The Life of Piscine Molitor Patel better known as Pi and in 3D for that matter. Can an inanimate movie made to play on emotion actually do just that? It did, it was love not at first sight but love nonetheless. The story, the journey, the struggle all meshed into a movie that will remain in my memory for a very long time. I couldn't stop there I had to read the novel, it had plainly come across the screen that it was directed based on it. The first book store I tried didn't have it, can you imagine? I tried a second much smaller book store and the attendant nodded yes they have it when I asked. My heart was overjoyed, its the smallest of things that take my breath away. I had it in my hand and soon in my shopping bag and off I set off to do more errands and then home to where the journey would begin again. This time correctly and not tainted by director's need to please the masses. 

I lapped up every inch of it, every line, every word from the front to the back including the reviews...every single letter in just about 3 days. You must say a long time for a book of 354 pages especially if I was so compelled to read it. It did not disappoint and my taking so long to read it was because life is not a library no matter how much we wish it to be. If justification is needed I used every minute of the time I did have free. 

If you've read till here and still reading, I applaud you. Reading is indeed an art but slowly becoming dead. It envelopes our ability to imagine to interpret never given never underestimated. This book has inspired me to write again...a joy I once took with great passion. Imagine what it could do for you? Until another time I leave you with these words of Yann Martel.."To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation."

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Blogging with purpose, 

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