Photo by - EndevourmeSome time back I read 'the Island Walkers', John Bemrose. Nice book.
Recently I read Iris Murdoch - 'The Green Knight' and 'the Bell'.
Both are amazing novels.
The characters seem so real...after finishing the book i couldnt grasp that they are just not real.
In The Green Knight, Moy, a teenage character, wants to be an artist.
She collects stones, she paints. She is sensitive, and so also vulnerable, delicate.
She lives in her own world, pretty similar to mine.
Somewhere in the novel she thinks -
Why do i collect stones...
Dont they also have their own destiny?
When i bring them home from the wild,
may be they miss the winds, the rains,
the dust, the grass.
Perhaps wild is their true home and other stones their friends,
do i have a right to interfere with their destiny?
Incidentally, at the end of novel Moy says -
when i turn 18, maybe i will go to India
where people believe that everything that exists has life
and every thing, though even small, is important...
well...may be thats why...i am in india... n i am happy :-)