The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

More than your quintessential war-time love story. Pulled together by the love for books, across from two different parts of England, one being London, and the other an island on the Channel. A connection which otherwise would never have happened, had it not been for the love of books. Serendipity in the real sense. A man writing a letter to the owner of a book he loved so much, just because he found her address on it. A kind of chivalry which seems missing in present day society. Not to ignore the pain that is brought about by war-time destruction, leading to deprivation, starvation and loss of life and loved ones. To hold on to one's sanity at such times of hopeless bereavement which seems to have no end is an extremely difficult thing to do. In times of frustration, people do anything to hold on to the last shred of dignity and serenity. That's what the people of Guernsey did, by making up a book club, just so they can come together to share whatever little ounce of happiness they were able to muster through, meagre amounts of food acquired through 'unlawful' means, hidden from the Germans and what not. Amongst all this, a sudden blossoming of love comes as a welcome change like a fresh shower of rain. A must read and a welcome change to everyday romance which will change your perception of reading and romance all together.

Reminiscing

Can I ever stop reminiscing, can I ever stop to hope,
Standing underneath looming shadows,
Flickering lights tend to mope.
Hiding beneath the greenish hills,
Lies a plethora of dinge yearning from my heart.
Rains had just ceased to bash,
Blue skies were starting to splash.
Rainbow had only come to peep,
Dark clouds had seemed to clear off.
Life had begun to become beautiful,
When karma came to clash.
Leaning against the coppice gate,
Once again I dig the past,
Old deeds long forgotten,
Came bolting and wrecking havoc
The chains which had gathered rust.

If Only...

If only words were enough to tell you how much i miss you..
Nothing can stop the tears which flow at the thought of u with her..
Your nights were mine but now all you crave is her arms...
Pain flows down my spine like molten volcano, enough to last an eternity...
I keep looking for traces of you in anyone who claims to have known you...
Sometimes they lie, just to be in bed with me..
Sometimes i let them, thinking they must have come across you sometime, somewhere, unaware, carefree...
Just for that one night I pretend I can sense you in their flesh..
To crawl and reach the trapped energy your touch might have left on them..
For that single moment i make you my heaven...
And yet again i get back to dreary days until I find someone who claims to be your friend again...

Only if I could have been yours... Darlin' only if you had wanted to be mine

- Shradha Bhatia

Autistic Whims

When sleep does not seem near at hand,
When calmness is the last thing I ever achieve,
When all I want is to melt into a blissful slumber on a fluffy cloud,
When the clock keeps ticking by and time runs away way too fast,
When I crave for that solitary cottage of my dreams I call home,
That's when I hope to find a lake of peace, a river of contentment, and an ocean of tranquility,
Yet the ebbing tides seem too brutally impatient to settle down and cater to my autistic whims...

Breathless...

Breathe breathe breathe o' ye caged bird...
Breathe in the fiesty freedom beyond,
Breathe in the promising wind of happiness' at the zenith,
Breathe in the holy smoke that blows yonder,
Breathe in the crazy madness of laughter unleashed,
Breathe in the surpassing joy of the monks,
Breathe in what feels like must be heaven,
Breathe, feel and absorb the heady feeling of unwinding,
A chain unleashed and the barriers removed and,
Breathe in what was not the world but solely and only you...

Midnight Musings...

Right when you thought you had reached the zenith of calm,
Fate chooses to pull you cruelly back out of your reverie,
Lying atop a seemingly cushiony grassbed of contentment,
We can all but hope that the thing melting away is not our last shred of sanity,
Memories pull at your heartstrings and pain demands attention,
Calm, peace, serenity seem like mirthless stepsisters laughing at you from the valley beyond,
Naught can be done to soothe the maddening mind,
Tis all but tumult, an overpowering of bewildered emotions pelting at your soul...
Where is the calm that you talked yourself into?
Whither is the glee you felt only a while ago...
Melting vapour and disappearing chasms...that's all that remains to be eating at the folds of the minds begotten spaces that have long since left unfounded...
Strange is the mind and its power to behold things you try most to forget...

Bangalore Diaries and Perspective

Mild, pleasant, rainy Bangalore gave me perspective. They say you have to face your fears. Running away never helps. Got to see this first-hand. True it is, that the pain never really vanishes, but it does fade with time. And the right kind of company, the right words spoken, albeit unknowingly, make a great impact on us, shedding light on what was mildly visible, yet hidden to the unsuspecting brain. Clouded by our senses, ruled by our hearts, we tend to see the world through a grey sheath. However, sometimes something happens and the veil comes undone. There really is a rainbow behind those dark clouds. We just need to have patience for the rains to subside. Yes it hurts, hurts beyond endurance. But the sun shines brightest only after it rains the hardest. The night is always the darkest before the onset of dawn. Strange how only a few hours of the right people and the right words can work wonders. But then this is just me. There are multiple facets to dealing with a situation. And I found mine at Namma Bengaluru.