Thirteen Years as Locomente

Locomente has officially become a teenager today - not so much of a baby anymore! It feels even more incredible that I have maintained this site despite it's lesser traffic and the demotivation attributed by that. 

In the book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell explains that the key to achieving true expertise in any skill is simply a matter of practicing, albeit in the correct way, for at least 10 000 hours. At this juncture, I wonder if I have practiced the art of creative writing enough. Most importantly, have I practiced it in the correct way. Maybe I have.  Or maybe I am only halfway through. 

When success is not achieved,  persistence is the key. But then how could one measure success in this context? Is consistency enough? Or the sheer willpower to let it thrive for selfish reasons enough? If greatness lies in normalcy, consistency and routine are its components too. Sometimes aiming towards simplicity is enough to attain greatness!

Anyways, at this moment I am overwhelmed with gratitude as I write this because Locomente is my alternate ego. Locomente broadened my horizon and perspective.  Locomente nudged and threw tantrums at me so that get out of my comfort zone. 

The exercise of creative writing subconsciously  urged me to stay present in the moment and observe. Also, to focus on the gaps between the words written and the silences in the midst of chaos. 

I know that I shall hold on to this baby of mine all my life. And I also know that there still are a bunch of people who read my posts. Some may comment.  Some may not. Yet I know that and it motivates as well as inspires me to write.  

I so hope that my words go beyond this little nest in the blogosphere and find a dwelling within the magical world of fictional stories. That's Locomente's birthday wish,  let's put it that way. Fingers crossed. 

Until then...

Miles to go before I sleep...

So many thoughts are yet to be translated into words... This romance with words is eternal...

Cheers to the 13 years of being Locomente and Cheers for more...

Thank you dear readers for reading... commenting... and for just being there for Locomente...

 

On Earth we're Briefly Gorgeous

On Earth we're Briefly Gorgeous written by Ocean Voung is presented as a collection of letters written to a mother who can't read English in first person narrative. It takes us through the thoughts and experiences of a Vietnamese boy raised in the USA by his mother Rose and grandmother Lam. 

Vietnamese history and the destruction caused by war is one of the most heart-wrenching ones. There are so many instances in the book that would make us shudder. The book not only deals with the impact of war at an individual level, but also about homosexuality, drug abuse, mental illness, suicides, generational trauma, racial discrimination among other things. 

I was glued to the first 30% of the book. There was a poetic quality to the writing which urged me to pause and reflect. The next 30% or so of the book seemed more like an Instagram reel or YouTube shorts. It was moving from one instance to another, delving into one subject after another, jumping so frequently that my head started to flood. I wanted to scream and say, stick to one thing at a time. There will be a brief account about sexual expedition with his gay partner immediately followed by a disheartening abortion account by his mother rapidly followed by a narrative on the addictive nature of a prescriptive drug called oxycodone to be succeeded by another instance of a sexual experience and so on. The last 30%, however, finds its grounds and gets back to the poetic and reflective quality. Therefore, the books fails to emotionally connects with us.

In short, the book is briefly gorgeous and calls for your patience. 

⭐⭐/5

Norwegian wood - Not a Book Review

Norwegian Wood written by Japanese author Murakami was written in 1987. Yet relevant and relatable even today. It is a book about life and death and everything in between. I had tried reading this book in early 2018 and i couldn't withstand the avalanche of melancholy stuffed within those 380 odd pages. Or maybe I was just too young maybe; untouched by the cruelties (read as realities) of life. Couple of days before, this book called me from my shelf. I picked up thinking I won't survive this time either. As i read through the first 15 pages, a familiar yet odd lump formed in my throat and a discomfort built in my gut. Yet I read. Turned page and page. Oh boy! I wasn't expecting such a masterpiece. Of course I knew it is a celebrated book. But then it's not necessary that one need to really enjoy and appreciate it.

 

Toru, the optimist. Kizuki, the escapist. Naoko, the pessimist. Midori, the realist. Nagasawa, the selfish. Hatsumi, the romantic. Storm Trooper, the perfectionist. Reiko, the survivor. They grew inside me so much that they became part of my life. Such is ghr brilliant writing of Murakami. It is descriptive of the minutest of minute detail. I still feel sad. Yet I feel glad to be alive in this world and be able to have read it. This book makes us appreciate things that we may otherwise take for granted. 

I also realised that everyone has to face grief. Today or tomorrow or day after ot thereafter. That is unavoidable. But we all have the option to choose how we want to face it and deal with it. Each of the characters had a unique way to deal with it. That perspective emanated strength.

This is said to be the easiest of Murakami books. This is the first one I read and it shattered me emotionally yet it preserved me emotionally. I can't, therefore, say if this was an easy read or not. All i can say is it is a book that would leave an impact in your heart. Such books should never be missed. I highly recommend this.