32 days to go..
Circa 2008.
Summers always start early and end early in Coimbatore. I had just finished one more year clueless of my existence. I chanced upon the book gathering dust somewhere in the nook of the shelf. 'Gora' by Rabindranath Tagore. Rupa Publications.
Thanks to being a poor reader, it took me an entire month to consume the book, consume the emotions and jump into a sea of characters. West Bengal has always been at the forefront of thinking forward compared to the rest of India. The book introduced the concept of soul-searching, self-contradiction and of being resolute to me. Set in the early 1900's, the topic of orthodoxy pitted against progressiveness was dealt with such subtlety. I could jump into the life of Gora, the protagonist and not know if I was truly progressive or truly orthodox.
Over the years, I have wondered how enchanting it would have been to read the novel in its native language with the Rabindranath Tagore touch. The comparison, sadly, had to end there thanks to my absolute lack of proficiency in Bengali language. I have also come across some jigsaw puzzles from the ocean of journalists of how Tagore had been an absolute hypocrite when it comes to women empowerment.
But it doesn't matter to me now what he was, as a person. It was in the summer of 2006, when, as a clueless kid, I visited Bangalore and a distant relative of mine offered me two books and told me, "Here, pick a book of your choice! You can have it!"
I don't remember what was the other book (It had a picture of a train on its cover). My instincts were to take the book which had more pages. I picked Gora, then. To the distant relative whose name I don't remember anymore, thank you for introducing me to the world of books.
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