My rating: 2 of 5 stars
How do you recall a bitter taste in your mouth, left usually by something unwarranted or unfamiliar. Would you remember something specific which made the inside of your mouth feel acrid, stinging to the point of repulsion. Or would you recollect the whole episode as unsavoury, not intending to remind yourself of the affair at all.
Perhaps it would depend upon what you choose to keep at the centre of your experience. If you ever wish to remember that is.
In Doshi’s book, which is essentially about a troubled mother-daughter relationship, there were way too many places where I sulked and wondered where to place this feeling. Was I angry with the mother who birthed a daughter and failed to understand the responsibility which comes with being a parent? A bit perhaps, the struggle to adjust with the changes while entering motherhood is understandable. But can that struggle be lifelong. What if a mother is not in tune with the ways of the world and expected behaviour on her part. Can one judge such a person, who otherwise tries to live her life to the fullest, indulging in the passionate pursuits while remaining unmindful to those who really need her or depend upon her for their existence. I don’t know. I tried understanding the characters, the author’s intent in creating them and giving them a life which seems too unreal for minds completely adjusted to the ordered dynamics of mother-child relationships and norms of a society.
Perhaps as an individual, I can understand the conflicts tormenting a restless mind but as a mother, I feel uncomfortable.
Author’s narrative is mostly fluid except at some places where it seems hackneyed or superfluous. I was tempted to abandon the reading in between but only skipped some paragraphs here and there.
Perhaps it would depend upon what you choose to keep at the centre of your experience. If you ever wish to remember that is.
In Doshi’s book, which is essentially about a troubled mother-daughter relationship, there were way too many places where I sulked and wondered where to place this feeling. Was I angry with the mother who birthed a daughter and failed to understand the responsibility which comes with being a parent? A bit perhaps, the struggle to adjust with the changes while entering motherhood is understandable. But can that struggle be lifelong. What if a mother is not in tune with the ways of the world and expected behaviour on her part. Can one judge such a person, who otherwise tries to live her life to the fullest, indulging in the passionate pursuits while remaining unmindful to those who really need her or depend upon her for their existence. I don’t know. I tried understanding the characters, the author’s intent in creating them and giving them a life which seems too unreal for minds completely adjusted to the ordered dynamics of mother-child relationships and norms of a society.
Perhaps as an individual, I can understand the conflicts tormenting a restless mind but as a mother, I feel uncomfortable.
Author’s narrative is mostly fluid except at some places where it seems hackneyed or superfluous. I was tempted to abandon the reading in between but only skipped some paragraphs here and there.
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