Poet Lost

I was having a conversation with a friend of mine when she mentioned the (in)famous Da Vinci Code, and inquired if I had ever read it. Well, I certainly have read it, and I made it clear that I didn’t think much of it.

That reminded me of the review I wrote on 17th October 2004 - a day after I compleated reading Dan Brown’s ‘novel’. I’ll post it here for those who are curious:

Its less than 24 hours since I completed reading Dan Brown’s novel, and I wanted to write what I thought of the book.

First things first. What is this book all about? The Da Vinci Code is a novel, and as novels go it should not be treated seriously. Unfortunetly, this book does something that most works of fiction rarely touch upon - the divinity of Jesus, the truth of the Holy Grail, and how Leonard Da Vinci supposedly hid codes in some of his great paintings - codes which would reveal the ultimate secret of Jesus. This secret, the novel claims, is something so powerful that the Catholic Church would do anything to stop it from being exposed. Okay, so after reading of such a plot, readers would forgive themselves for having bitten the bait and purchased it.

I am not a Christian. I do not claim to understand some of the Bibical references in the novel. I am no art historian either. I have always been intrigued by the enigma that is Leonardo and his work, but I know nothing more than the fact that Splinter (the rat in Ninja Turtles) admired him and named the eldest of the Turtles after him. Therefore, you won’t find me questioning Brown’s claims.

I do, however, read. And reading is something that I enjoy; something that I savour. A good book for me would leave a permenant imprint in my mind. When I pick a novel to read, I expect a few things - well rounded charachters, good diolouge, an original plot and most importantly I need great prose dammit.

Brown’s novel only gave me a plot. As I mentioned earlier, the plot is the very reason that I wanted to read it. The plot wis the very reason that I kept asking my friends if they had read it. The plot is the very reason that these same friends purchased the novel for themselves. And the plot is the reason that I almost purchased it myself. (Fortunetly, I didn’t. Thanks to Tweety for giving me a copy) The plot is the only reason I can attribute for the novel’s phenomenal sucess.

Hey Jesus wasn’t a divine entity, dude! I read this awesome novel from this Brown guy. And don’t even get me started on what the Mona Lisa is all about. You just have to read it.

Conspiracies have a way of enticing us to do stupid things, don’t they? Where am I going with this long diatribe? Hang on, I am getting to it.

Brown’s greatest skill is the same skill possessed by Sidney Sheldon, Daniel Steele, Barbara Taylor Bradford, James Patterson and hell even Mario Puzo (But he wrote the Godfather. He is forgiven). They have the ability to write tales are pre-concieved for the modern reader who has little time to waste on reading novels with grace, charm and are heavy. Instead we want something that is light, fast and is unputdownable (Cliche, I know) That is exactly what Brown has given us. Something that is fast and unputdownable.

From the moment I started this novel there were two voices in my head - one pushing me to get back to the novel; to hell with all the work that have piled up over the week. The other telling me that this was nothing more than pulp fiction, cleverly masking behind “impecable research”. Unfortunetly, the former won.

Brown’s charachters -Robert Langdon, Sophie Neveau, Sir Leigh Teabing, Silas and Bishop Aringarosa - are two dimensional and easily forgettable. Langdon likes nothing more than symbols so he could start off his various lecturtes. I call them ‘lectures’ because his diolouge throughout the novel resembles one - even when he is being chased by the French police and a mad monk. Neveau likes nothing better than cracking codes. Teabing, the most ridiculous charachter is also, strangely enough, the most colorful (What do you expect with a name like Teabing?) as he plots the downfall of the Catholic church - at least he gets the best diologue throughout (”Robert, you brought me a virgin?”, “If you step into my plane, inspector, my lawyers will have your testicles for breakfast”).

The Da Vinci Code is many things to many people. For me, it is a I will never read it again. For people who want a better plot, better writing, and a more unforgettable read, do yourselves a favour: seek out ‘Mission’ by Patrick Tilley. I believe that it is now out of print and very hard to get. I was lucky enough to find a copy in the local library. I know what I will be reading next. It won’t be any offering by Dan Brown.

Genius, the old adage goes, is forever. Anand Vasu at Cricinfo, it seems, couldn’t agree more. And who can blame him? Yesterday, six months since he last played an international game of cricket, Sachin Tendulkar showed the world of cricket why, with the exception of Brian Lara, he has no match.

Following the text based commentary on Cricinfo, the sense of excitement at the ground was almost tangible; the prospect of Sachin returning – the Sachin of old whose shot-making rendered experienced writers almost wordless - was too much for Indian cricket fans.

‘God is back’, a journalist was supposed to have said yesterday.

Indeed.

Welcome back, Sachin. The world of cricket missed you.

If there is one thing I love about broadband Internet access, it is the freedom to download and tryout a variety of new (and free) software. One of my recent favourites is the new Google Desktop search tool. Much like its predecessor, this is a very good search tool indexing media files, documents, emails, and chat transcripts. Finding files is now only seconds away, which is not always the case when using Windows native search function.

Version two of Google Desktop, however, goes beyond the realms of search. Gone is the cute little icon that sits on your system tray, waiting for you to double click when you are trying to find a file in your local machine. The new version comes with a sidebar that integrates the search function with a RSS newsreader, a email indexer that provides previews to emails that you’ve received (text only) and Google’s own News index.

What it ultimately means is that the user has access to a world of information at his/her fingertips. You can customize the sidebar so that the information that is presented relates directly to your area of interest. If you look at the screenshot below, you’ll notice the Newsreader (under ‘Web Clips’) holds information relating to cricket. That is because I’ve loaded the RSS feeds of Cricinfo and BBC Cricket into it. Every time those pages are updated, I’ll be immediately notified. Its also a great way of keeping updated with your favourite blogs.

The email archive is a funny tool that I haven’t still worked out. It does a good job at indexing email that you receive on your computer, provided that you use a local email client such as Outlook or Outlook Express. The client also has to be opened for the index to be updated immediately. Once its updated, and assuming that the email is in text format, you can preview the email simply by clicking the respective item. This doesn’t happen all the time though and its something that I am looking into.

The email tool is also supposed to archive your Gmail. According to the index status page on my sidebar, it is still in the process of archiving mine. That makes it two months and counting.

The search function itself works like a charm and is well on its way to making the native search function of Windows obsolete (Of course a certain Bill Gates will make sure that doesn’t happen). The searches are performed at super-fast speeds and are very accurate. Also if you know your way around using Google search operators such as ‘filetype:’ etc, the process becomes even easier. I’ve only encountered problems with the searching of video files, which supposedly works, but apparently not for me.

Oh well, nothing is perfect I guess.

Click here for larger picture.

An interesting report on Cricinfo. According to recent polls, members of the Australian cricket team regard Brian Lara (55%) as the most dangerous opposition batsmen, ahead of Sachin Tendulkar (25%) and Rahul Dravid (20%).

Freddie Flintoff was voted as the most dangerous opposition bowler ahead of his Lancashire team mate Muttiah Muralitharan.

Hardly any big surprises there except for the inclusion of Sri Lanka’s Muralitharan. His record against Australia isn’t impressive when compared to his career stats. This is, I suspect, partly due to Darrel Hair, John Howard and few drunk Aussie supporters heckling the poor guy; you can only do so much when you are cheat/freak/thrower/chucker in their eyes.

I just came across this amazing guitar site called Freelicks. The owner posts video lessons of popular pieces and songs to improve your guitar playing. I’ve only come come across the free videos (which you can also download) and I can tell you that they are excellent. Fantastic resource for all you guitarists.

Came across an interesting article on ZDNet. Interesting for those who are facinated by the powerplays that continue to shape the internet.

Big Internet and Media companies eye Web 2.0 by ZDNet’s Richard MacManus — There’s a lot of jockeying for position among the big Internet and media companies these days. David Berlind suggests there are two main camps developing: Microsoft/Yahoo/Real vs. Google/Sun/AOL/Comcast, with Apple the aloof cool kid doing its own thing (the Internet’s version of The Fonz). John Battelle thinks that IM and VOIP are “critical applications” […]

And another if you want to get an idea on the bigger picture:

The big picture behind Google, Microsoft, Yahoo, AOL, Real, and Sun deal-o-mania by ZDNet’s David Berlind — Maybe I’m crazy. But if you ask me, there’s a super big picture that’s begining to form when you start to look at all of this week’s announcements, or maybe-announcements involving Google, AOL, Real, Microsoft, Apple, Yahoo, Sun and more. If I’m not mistaken, just about everyone is taking sides in preparation for what […]

I’ve been working on a short story over the past week. Right now, the plot is very much a series of wild stabs in the dark. Still, I am rather satisfied with what has come about thus far. Give it a read and, if you have the time, tell me what you think. I am always looking for constructive critique.

Oneiric
By: Theena Kumaragurunathan 2005

As daylight waltzed away, night swung in, and silence drowned out the last decibel of sound, I woke up to the sounds of my own screaming. High notes of anguish. My dreams transformed me into a tenor of woe.

The mirror in front of my bed reflected my weary sweat-soaked face, and the smiling moon outside the window. Full moon.

Elsewhere in the city, religious festivals were probably underway to mark Vesak. Here, yours truly began another nocturnal day of looking over my shoulder, shouting at imaginary beings in my room before proceeding to have a conversation with them about the weather, the state of the nation and me.

Right now, as I write this aimless piece on my current state of relative peace, dear reader, I find myself asking if this act is in itself a dream. I did the usual things: I pinched myself and I felt the light stimulus on the skin - check; I felt the familiar tension on the keyboard as I typed away into the night - check; the low sounds of the Colombo night were audible and, more importantly, ordinary - check.

I passed my self-designed-self-administered-sanity test.

I opened the music program and chose not to meddle with it as it went about choosing the soundtrack for my life. For my now. It chose Mozart’s Requiem before swinging into the sixties and the Beatles. Paul McCartney told me to take a sad song and make it better.

My room is a cube. It couldn’t get more cube-y than this. If it did, then I am probably locked away in a lunatic asylum. Lunatic asylums are painted white to symbolize a fresh start for all their patients, no matter what shades they had used to paint their past. My room is painted white too; I have no use for colours. White in my room symbolizes plainness – like vast areas of void, of nothingness – like the Polar Caps - where the most mundane of objects, like a polar bear’s carcass, when sighted, is cause for celebration.

Like my head.
Or my heart.
And my face.

There is a carcass there in all three; I just have to find it.

Six hours have passed since I woke up. Six hours and I’ve written three hundred words that can, at best, be classed as a stream of consciousness. Six hours and I feel the need to go back to bed and close my eyes. And when that happens, perhaps I’ll dream. Perhaps all this was a dream instead and I’ll actually wake up.

Someone, I can’t recall who, said that the one thing that made society’s successful so successful, and society’s dogpile so dogpilish, is the ability of the former to separate dreams from reality. Guess I am fucked then.

I closed my eyes and woke up to the sounds of the world of medicine. Doctors, nurses, beeping sounds and people I didn’t recognize – probably relatives, I’ll be bonding with in the coming days – stood around me and stared.

The doctors and their medical school certified faces of compassion. My ‘relatives’ faces and their need for normality. That – normality – is when a loved one is either dead or alive. When you are caught in the grey area of life and death, like I am, you become a freak.

A freak - check.
********************************************************************
The crash had left the car mangled beyond recognition. It was a Honda Civic, the 1998 model, built by a Japanese car company bent on providing cars that took away the X in sexy while adding more Fs to efficient. In front of the car, lay a body - a woman - dead, he could tell even from this distance. The gaping hole on the windshield indicated that she had been in the passenger’s side only a minute before. The airbag had probably saved the life of the driver, but he wasn’t sure.

A poem I wrote tonight:

Your name here

by Theena Kumaragurunathan 2005

Smile fleetingly and flee.
Offer me not Hope,
For Hope inflates.
No, smile fleetingly,
And then flee.

Leave mystery in your place instead:
The story of your eyes,
Told in that wordless prose of your smile,
Of love that is best won;
Or leave the sonance of your silent laugh:
With the pitch of your mirth and notes so fine,
With it a song for you and me I shall compose-
Of a muse found and a poet forever lost.

Yes.
Smile.
Flee.

Offer me not hope or love,
Not enchantment. Not inspiration.
Joy, euphoria, delight -
No! Smile fleetingly,
And then flee.

I upgraded my PC today. Until today, I’ve been working on a Windows XP machine running PIII 866 MHz processor along with 128 MB RAM. Needless to say the performance of the machine was abit like watching Mr T sing: shit.

I added two 128 MB SDRAM chips, taking the grand total to 385 MB RAM - more than sufficent for my computing needs at the moment. I also added a DVD writer - the Sony DRU 810 A; a luxury perhaps, but I have the feeling that it might payback big time in the future.

Gideon Haigh at Cricinfo writes on what constitutes a great test. Great article again from a man who I believe will be one of the finest cricket writers in time to come. An extract of the article:

Cricket can be cruel. The beaten edge, the unplayable ball, the impossible chance that is taken, the straightforward chance that is fluffed, the umpire’s inadvertent error: on individuals, cricket inflicts the most exquisite suffering. But, for all the blah about glorious uncertainty, Test cricket is utterly, massively, viciously fair.

Full article here.