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I guess everyone loves to be enigmatic once in a while.
At 14 (height 4' 6", weight 75 lbs) I entered the imposing portals of the Andhra University at Waltair (Vizagh), fresh from a moffusil college in Ponnur, where the language of instruction pretended to be English.
During those decades, AU was supposed to be the abode of gentlemen: meaning you speak in English (till you make friends, when you will stoop to your lowbrow mother tongue), you wear starched clothes and shoes, and most importantly, talk of Maugham as your best friend with whom you are on first name terms.
It was all bewildering to me.
Never heard of Maugham. But within a week, I was pleasantly surprised to discover in my MD Uncle's bookcase two of Maugham's books: Of Human Bondage, and Moon and Sixpence (he was too busy to open them...they were unthumbed). The former was a huge affair so I gave it a miss, and tried tackling the moony thing.
That was the first unabridged adult novel I read (without the benefit of a Dictionary...I wanted to get it over with quickly enough to boast that I read it cover to cover). I must say I could make out the rough plot and about 20% of the details...the only thing I dreamed of was the Tahiti Island.
Next morning I spoke about it with our topnotch classmate. He nodded his head approvingly. And said Maugham missed his Nobel because he was considered a 'cynic' (I didn't know what cynic was).
And then I told him I couldn't follow the meaning of the title. And asked him what it meant. He gave a knowing smile and said that his opinion wouldn't help me and I have to figure it out myself.
Kids are blessed with far more intuition than we credit them with...every teacher knows it although many don't admit it.
Anyway, I realized at once that this chap was blustering and in all probability he never read the book...which he confessed in our third year when we became chums.
Anything romantic to do with moon is bakwas...ask our Apollo astronauts.
Take honeymoon. It is neither as sweet as honey nor as rocky as the moon.
If you think that Hotel Bluemoon would always be a 5-star affair you are mistaken...I know a few whose beds are fighting arenas for lizards and cockroaches.
Talking of romantic names, we just visited the apartment block where we had booked our 'home' a couple of years back. It is now ready for 'possession'.
It is called the 'Nile Valley' Apartments.
It is nothing of the sort. You have to climb a rocky hill to reach it. There is no water body nearby. And not a blade of grass grew there before they planted some bamboo saplings...and fetched tons of water in tankers.
And they call it Nile Valley!!!
There is another gated township coming up and they call it 'Space Station', merely because it is a 30-floor affair...that is their concept of 'space'.
There is another called 'Sarovar'. And the inmates tell me that the only sarovar there is a nearby pond which belongs to none and so stinks to the 18th floor. They very much wish to drain it away and close it but can't. And hordes of mosquitoes travel up the lift like so many stowaways.
Words should be transparent.
For instance when I read the word 'treacle' first, maybe in Alice, I knew it would be gooey. And for 'gooey' I never consulted any dictionary.
Here is a description of Nino's no-nonsense kid Albertino (9):
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"...Albertino is only nine years old, but he manages himself very independently. He is reticent and dignified and, in talking to me he limits himself to essentials. In the course of a week when he was particularly loquacious, I remember hearing his voice three times. Monday morning he came into my study and said: 'The coffee's boiling over.' Thursday evening, after supper, he raised his head from the book he was carrying with him to ask: 'What are "antipodes"?' And Saturday, before going away with his mother for the summer, he said, 'Good morning!'.
...A few minutes later Albertino came in.
'A boy in my class says you write books,' he told me.
i admitted this was true.
'I'd like to read them,' said Albertino.
This was something totally unexpected. And my surprise made me feel almost guilty.
'They're right there on the second bookshelf,' i answered trying to be calm.
Albertino looked at the books on the second shelf one by one, while I subjected my conscience to a strict examination. No, even in my earliest works, there was nothing unsuited to a nine-year-old.
'Can I take this one?' he asked me.
..The following evening, while I was dozing in my study, Albertino came in. He had my book in his hand, and after he had put it back in place on the second shelf he started to go away.
'Have you finished it already?' I asked him.
'Yes,' he said, 'It's in big print, so it didn't take long.'
And he said nothing more..."
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Well, this world is bristling with Albertinos alright...my son who is all of 30 is yet to open any of my Ishani booklets...
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