My ‘Purple’ Hangover...

My ‘Purple’ Hangover...

If only novels were a part of our prospectus, guess I would have never failed. Only if they assemble subjects on obsessions that by and large capture 90% of my awareness all-round-the-year....... Shame they don’t. Coming into what I really face....
Ever had an emotion that you are bothered for a few hours after completing a tragic love story? Or ever thought of all those events and characters, --ditching the matter you should actually be thinking about--, and nothing else dwell in your thoughts for hours at a stretch.
Well, I have the same effect upon me whenever I put down a book even if at-least for a break; finding myself weakening to put up a fight against those breathtaking (even ghastly ) sentiments, I find myself tracing the same path back to my book and trying to complete the tale.

Impending along to the day when I took reading novels on a serious note rather than just a means to pass the time in a train journey (-- Comics took care of that in the childhood--).....
When I started with H.G.Wells’ science-fiction, I often had sensations of an invisible man trying to pull down my shorts in the eeriness of dark nights and sometimes I opened the window post-midnight considering a definite possibility of an alien invasion. When I, the, jumped to Daniel Defoe; the book actually got me ready up for an adventure. I was even found trying to make a tent and everything I could to set myself a camp where I could survive for days (if only I had a source of food, I wouldn’t have to run down to the kitchen or the toilet, accordingly, every time my stomach gave a twist). Finally, I had to give in my effort. Then when the age of “Animorphs” came, I attempted to turn myself into some effective creature and go into the examination store of my school and sneak out the papers.

Science fiction, I suppose, did not suit me for they lured me into extremes; so (incidentally) I pranced to Indian Love stories when one of my friends mentioned the name of an author, Chetan Bhagat. He, then, had four books under his belt. Starting with a borrowed ‘3 Mistakes of my Life’, I found myself talking the world about Ali and crying down to the last page. Borrowed today-returned tomorrow. Within a week or so I read all his other books, after actually purchasing each one. The upshot of ‘2 States’ was so much that I cried and cried so much that mom had to lock out the book for a month. It was heights when I, in point of fact, read the 4 books, 12 times each, in a matter of a month. Not to mention, when I ran around for funds to organise a quiz on Bhagat’s books (in Class VIII, I was then); even went to the extent of completing the banners and the whole length of question paper for the quiz.

The saga of love stretched for a long after these four novels. The longest effect, or I should say, the longest hangover till that day I had was when I read Ravinder Singh’s ‘I too had a love story...’ Save me Oh! Lord, after completing the book, at a stretch of 4 hours; I was found crying for more than 20 hours at length, refusing meals and bath. Then Durjoy Dutta, Manavi Ahuja, Nikita Singh, Tuhina A. Sarkar, Orvangana Ghai, Sumrit Shahi, Sidhart Oberoi, Sachin Garg and many more to be named took away rest of my two years giving me the same hangover day-in and day-out. It was not until I read ‘The Orange Hangover’ by Rahul Saini that I came over my term ‘The Purple Hangover’ that represents the feelings and the after effects of completing a novel.
Having had enough of Indian love chronicles, and having shed litres of saline stream out of the eyes, I reflected of trying out foreign best-sellers. To start with I made my way with Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Saga and the hangover lasted beyond imagination. I was stuck with Edward, Bella, Jacob, Charlie, Vamps; Shape-shifters well over a month after finishing the concluding edition of the series. E.L. James took me to another level with ‘The Fifty Shades’. This hangover lasted immensely. I must admit, not the BDSM part, but the thrill of how-will-they-get-together? The Fifty Shades hangover made me talk about it to all my fellow colleagues and I can proudly declare to have made a handful of people purchase the books.
After all these books, I was sitting empty handed thinking how my hangover led me through different emotions and different events every time I close my eyes being half-way through a series. Just then I thought of returning back to my childhood, returning back to the thing which has marked steps of my progress through my age year after year. I decided to return to Harry Potter series, which I absconded on the very first book for the childish reason that I got occupied immensely by virtual games for more than a year. And now when I have finally completed the J.K. Rowling series I am swollen with pride saying that I justified my childhood. Finally having managed to complete the series in exactly 7 days (one book a day), I finally join the broken strings that I left un-stitched 5 years back. To be honest, the reason enough to complete my childhood string left me with such hangover that I never had ever imagined.  Being left with Potter ‘Wrackspurts’ is nothing short of riding “Nimbus 2000” or “Firebolt”, comparing with Potter’s Pleasure. It leads me back to the days when I waited for the month of May just to watch the annual series of ‘May-movie-magic’ on Pogo which televised each of the Potter adapted movies.
Having reasonably seen through a few genre of novels, I seem to have recently developed a taste for philosophy and truth after having read ‘The Alchemist’ by Paulo Coelho. I have tagged myself of reading books that people may have read way back when I was stuck with Indian love stories, but I pride myself to be able to translate each book into a motion picture rolling inside my head for scores of days after the actual completion of the story-on-paper. Science fiction, Indian love, Magic, Extreme love (making), and currently philosophy; a wide range of topics to interest me in the future but speaking of what lays in the present, I may now be found engulfed by Nicholas Sparks or Paulo Coelho.
In wait of the same Purple Hangover dedicated to philosophy...
In wait to fulfil what my heart truly desires..... ‘To be overwhelmed by the words of the book long after they are out of my palms.’