DEVDAS KAKATI CHANDNI: ROOT (Roots) - Softcover

Inhaltsangabe

This book describes the discovery of romantic love and roots as an essential purpose of life. The hero Shib discovers the significance of love and sex in the following soliloquy of his : Love has a disembodied message beyond nerves and curves.“The disembodied message of the body – that’s the whole purpose of the physical manifestation of love and life.” He thought – that’s what makes sex sublime. Sex is only a medium in an endless quest of that sublime. “That is what makes an otherwise crude process beautiful and powerful. It is a mysteriously attractive process as a means for the continuity of the race that makes it divine.” What did she discover? Meeting Chandni in Konhora was not an accident. He was destined to meet her.Destiny is no accident. The picture of Chandni wandering alone through the vast expanses of Asia kept disturbing him. He felt more than a little guilty. He tried to think of something different. But the train of thought began to get blurred, and he slouched back in his seat. He tried to sleep but could not stop thinking about her all the way to Dibru. He imagined her with her sling bag - alone – roaming around in the forests of Southeast Asia and the desolate snowfields of Central Asia. Utterly alone – on a vague mission – that did not make much sense to him. He felt a pang in his heart for the lonely girl, away from family and friends, a loveless life. In some way he was involved in all that. She was not just a lonely girl any more. Their meeting in the Café Konhora" had changed all that in some inexplicable way and he had a responsibility in it. Just because he knew her, just because he saw things that way, as if she was a fundamental particle of Physics under his microscope. As he viewed it, it changed in a way to fall in line with his imagination. In the process he himself had undergone transformation, for gradually he began to feel it was he who was fully responsible for the shape of her life. As the afternoon sun shone on him, he looked iridescent. An aura of fulfilment akin to spirituality emanated from him and enveloped her. She looked into his eyes and saw herself there – there in that glow from his eyes, there she was. She remembered the moment when they were looking at the playful squirrel running up and down the tree outside Café Konhora and he was saying, “I may find something to do here.” She did not have anything to say then. But now she has. “You said the holy monastery island Majuli must be saved if northeast with its life of serenity, spirituality, tolerance and liberalness is to be saved. There are many things to be done. I can come with you and work together.”Life suddenly took a different dimension.“Let us go to the island” In her introspective mood she now told herself, “Oh, where have I been all these years? I am here, here, I am here in all that is here, and all that he is.” She moved towards him into his arms and rested her head on his bosom, quietly listening to the pulsations of his heart. They were both looking at the river. A low whistling sound, sometimes sounding like howling, came down the river throbbing like the cascading water, bringing who knows what messages from long past – streaming migrants from distant lands – elegies from bygone days – yearnings of people buried around here in ancient times – battles fought for rights over lands and harvests. Nobody is bothered about where the river came from or where it will go. Nobody. She reclined, keeping her head on his broad shoulder. Soon she fell asleep just like that. He slowly put down her head on his lap and stroked her hair. He was surprised how peacefully she slept. No tension on her face, no travel weariness of the nomadic years – as the soft breeze played through her hair. The breeze wafted in some blossoms from the tree that fell as confetti around them.

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