CHANDNI: ROOTS - Softcover

Inhaltsangabe

This a story of love and human relationships. Love in a universal sense is the essence of life. Love of one’s own identity drives the quest for roots. A lot of people ask themselves at some stage: “Who am I ? Where do I come from? What are my Roots?”Chandni was roaming around forests of Southeast Asia and deserts of central Asia in search of her ethnic roots. Those were tumultuous days in the Brahmaputra valley. People were confused by various issues of identity crisis. Ethnic strife, militancy, political killings kept the valley in turmoil. Intellectuals were looking for answers to the diverse issues in different ways according to their backgrounds. People like Shib and Chandni followed their own nose.Together they discovered new dimensions of love and sex. Read the following in their story:(Shib) looked back at his long eventful life. Emotions were running riot. He must sort it all out.Once his University class-mate, Safa had said that love has a disembodied message beyond nerves and curves. How true it is, he thought. It gives a different dimension to love. The disembodied message of the body – that’s the whole purpose of the physical manifestation of love and life. 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 human race that makes it divine. Shib felt overwhelmed. The river Burhidihing played an important role in their growing relationship: The Burhidihing looked mesmerizing as it emerged out of the rain forest, cascading over the rocks and breaking into luxuriant foams that shone in the spectral colours of the grazing sunlight. They were speechless as they absorbed the magnificence of the surrounding. The sun was low on the horizon. A soft fragrance of the wilderness was riding the breeze that sometimes brought in a few blossoms of the Bokul tree nearby. He kept looking at her and whispered to himself: “I want to grow with this woman.” That defined his love. They were both looking at the river. A low whistling sound, sometimes sounding like howlingcame 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.

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