The Magical Dust

Books may well be the only true magic- Alice Hoffman.

Magic is believed to exist in the creeky corners of the magicians' caves, in the dark forests of the wizards, in the creepy silences of alleys, in the dense mountains and yes above all in the hidden mind of the ingenieur who designs magical illusions.Well yes we all have heard about magic, but not many have seen it in front of their eyes; the one that we cannot have an explanation to.

Or perhaps,we never realise the real magic.The magic in the papers that bind history so beautifully that we don't ever come to know!Ever noticed,how ever particle of dust on a book reminds us of its glory.Ever felt how it's moist fragrance enchants our minds.The worn out pages just make us flip them with the most enthusiasm.How the essence of holding that piece of literature makes us hum a melodious tune.It is this trance that old books with their yellow pages encapsulate us.And then, many of us don't believe in magic?

The longing to sit in the warm sun and read Austen, reading Dickens while sitting in the quitest corner of the library, sipping coffee while going through Twain's adventures, glimpsing the unfolded realities of life all through the writings of some of the greatest artists,isn't this magic?Don't we just get hypnotized and want to read the entire book and do nothing else?Even some of the most crude truths are understood while analysing the depths of characters.We understand them all but we have no explanations as to how we got them settled in our minds.

While the story of Oliver Twist brings tears to our eyes,the happy ending of the March sisters in Little women brings a cheer.Elizabeth Bennet's fate makes you smile,and Dorian Gray's character makes you loathe any such hedonism.Doesn't this all influence our thoughts and we just have no answer to us finding a change in ourselves?The aspect of just sitting in such dusty galleries and learn some of the biggest life's lessons baptises us.We grow in that salty wooden fragrance of the binded texts.From childhood itself we start with some of the most enchanting journeys walking through our old libraries and book shelves;but suddenly we don't realise how we all understand those facts of life?Weird isn't it?Well, it's all magical you see.





The Reader(2009)

Kate Winslet, David Kross, Ralph Fiennes

If the parameters of life could be measured, then each one of us would die young out of self-guilt.

The Reader, an absolutely provoking movie, set in the post Nazi Germany encapsulates the life of a fifteen year old boy named Michael, who shares a rather disturbing relationship with a woman twice his age during one summer.The lady named Hanna brings out the happiness in that boy without ever trying to even get emotionally attached.The heated affair doesn't last very long as she abruptly leaves him and disappears, only to be witnessed by Michael again in a court, charged with being a Nazi guard & held guilty for the murder of three hundred jews.

The sanity, the peace of mind that Michael could gain by being loved starts withering off and soon he finds himself at the crossroads when he has to face his past yet again.He is bewildered by the unperturbed power of his emotions, his helplessness.A life that echoes with passages of dark yet fulfilling times presses upon him the questions of reaching out to Hanna.

A true piece depicting humane struggles of dealing with life's most unexpected turns, this movie brings back those serious offerings of life's lessons that perhaps many of us don't bother to deal with, namely: honesty, care, faith and above all, love for those people who turn out to be our moulders at times.