February 18

Kafka on the Shore

No matter how many books you read, each new one has its own set of possibilities and expectations. And somehow it takes a lot of time for me now to select a book to read next.
So there was this book called Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami. A random stumble in a way while looking around for a good read. The japanese connection could be one of the reason i wanted to read this. And so it was that i finally bought this book. But somehow as if by destiny, i never got a chance or the desire to start with it for a month. It was as if i was waiting for a perfect moment to start this book.
And so it was on the airport, while waiting for my flight, that i started this mysterious story. It left a lot to wonder initially and even at the end there is a lot of things to ponder upon. Yet not even for a moment did it make me feel a sense of incompleteness.
All the other emotions i could feel, including Happiness, Joy, Ecstasy, Desire, Pain, Sorrow, Anguish to name a few. The rest, as with emotions, are too tough to describe. I loved the story of how a boy struggles not just in physical life, but also the mental turmoil that accompanies each moment. It was a book about thoughts as much as about events.
I loved Miss Saeki because she symbolized perfection in a way I have never read about. The 15 year old and the 50 year old characters merged into one in a weirdly enthralling way.
I loved that cabin, all isolated and far away, being portrayed as a stepping stone into mental development. It was like a test that made you come out stronger than before mentally.
I loved the character of Sakura somehow. It seemed familiar somehow, as if it was someone i have met or would meet in this life or next.
I dont think i can rate it or compare it with other books but even if i do it would be among the top 5 books i have ever read.

No matter how many books you read, each new one has its own set of possibilities and expectations. And somehow it takes a lot of time for me now to select a book to read next.

So there was this book called Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami. A random stumble in a way while looking around for a good read. The Japanese connection could be one of the reason i wanted to read this. And so it was that i finally bought this book. But somehow as if by destiny, i never got a chance or the desire to start with it for a month. It was as if i was waiting for a perfect moment to start this book.

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