There are some books that talk of things you know well, then there are some that speak things you vaguely know and lastly there are books that talk of things you feel but you don't really come up explaining your feelings... You stay in quasi state of semi-understanding and convincing yourself that this was the most you had the capability to make out... One such book is 'Reluctant Fundamentalist'.
As I held that 180 paged book in my hands, (thanks to my friend Pallav Deb), I was quite in a fix, if at all that was my cup of tea to read something about a Pakistani migrant to America and so and so forth, but I am glad I did not drop the idea of reading it in. All the while, I was reading, I could strangely correlate with Changez, the lead of the story and sometimes even with the American soldier sitting opposite to him, in some Pakistani restaurant... The dusk darkens to night and I feel myself wondering along with Changez, the strange reasons of his aloofness towards the ongoing wars, his morally condemn-able, yet very honest feeling of momentary gayness at the losses of America, the upheavals and downfalls of his professional and personal life and most importantly, the lack of connection between him and the American ways and life inspite of his apparent liking of these...
I could feel Changez's heartfelt agony at the rejections of Erica, the woman he loved, and the lifts of his morale whenever he thought that probably he was of some importance to her. I could honestly feel that how even some one, dead long ago, can have an impact on your life, or can stand in your ways and then i felt that a lot of the feels were yet unfolded...
The end of the book left me as if in the midst of an ocean full of uncertainty... I desperately kept hoping and infact believing that the American soldier was not at killing Changez. But strangely enough, to its comparison I merely wished that Changez would not be a terrorist. It was as if something that hardly mattered. The best part about the book was the probable antagonist being so much protagonist-like that you don't really feel bad even if he goes killing...All I am left to say is that, its one of the rarest pieces of work that engrosses you into itself completely... HAILS to Mohsin Hamid...
As I held that 180 paged book in my hands, (thanks to my friend Pallav Deb), I was quite in a fix, if at all that was my cup of tea to read something about a Pakistani migrant to America and so and so forth, but I am glad I did not drop the idea of reading it in. All the while, I was reading, I could strangely correlate with Changez, the lead of the story and sometimes even with the American soldier sitting opposite to him, in some Pakistani restaurant... The dusk darkens to night and I feel myself wondering along with Changez, the strange reasons of his aloofness towards the ongoing wars, his morally condemn-able, yet very honest feeling of momentary gayness at the losses of America, the upheavals and downfalls of his professional and personal life and most importantly, the lack of connection between him and the American ways and life inspite of his apparent liking of these...
I could feel Changez's heartfelt agony at the rejections of Erica, the woman he loved, and the lifts of his morale whenever he thought that probably he was of some importance to her. I could honestly feel that how even some one, dead long ago, can have an impact on your life, or can stand in your ways and then i felt that a lot of the feels were yet unfolded...
The end of the book left me as if in the midst of an ocean full of uncertainty... I desperately kept hoping and infact believing that the American soldier was not at killing Changez. But strangely enough, to its comparison I merely wished that Changez would not be a terrorist. It was as if something that hardly mattered. The best part about the book was the probable antagonist being so much protagonist-like that you don't really feel bad even if he goes killing...All I am left to say is that, its one of the rarest pieces of work that engrosses you into itself completely... HAILS to Mohsin Hamid...
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