GOD OF SMALL THINGS ...
it is a rather small book with an attractive cover depicting lilies sunken in a pool of water ... the main protagonist is a woman named rahel and his twin estha ... they are said to be twins from the same egg but fertilized by a different sperm ... this i guess serves as the main plot for the story with rahel being able to telepathically know whatever estha goes through including an incident in which the latter is abused by an orange juice seller ... my most comical scene is where they go with their aunt to the local police station to report a crime and the policemen keeps hitting their aunt's breasts with a pen like fruit buyer picking mangoes in the market ... ok, that is rather uncouth but arundhati roy has a way with words ... the book won the precious Man Booker Prize and it is the only book that the author has written so far since it was launched in 1997 ... i guess it deserves a consideration or two ...
ANGELA'S ASHES ...
The true story of frank mccourt childhood when his family emigrated from america to settle in ireland ... it is one of the most painful books you could ever read ... the author completely detaches himself from unearned emotion and sentimentalism when he delves you into the silent anguish and pain that the poor go through ... watching his siblings die one after the other, caring from his sick mother, having to assume fatherly roles after his alcoholic father abandoned the nest and the singular pressures of having to be an american outcaste in an irish slum really takes a toll on young frank as the book depicts ... but at the end of it all he is able to save enough money (some of it he stole from the house of the moneylender after the latter died of a heart attack) to go to america where his life is depicted in the novel 'TIS ... i have not read 'Tis though ... oh, the book did win a pulitzer
THE MAMMOTH HUNTERS ...
I bought this book thinking it was really going to sink me into the challenges that the stone-agers went through hunting bison, mammoth and mastodon ... i thought it was going to take me into this otherworld with sabre-toothed tigers and six foot tall wart-hogs ... indeed, it is no more than a misguided soap opera that would not have earned much at the ratings ... Jean Auel (the author) seems not able to free herself from the entrapments and the endearments of the modern world when she takes her mind back to over 30,000 years ago .. the main protagonist Ayla, is a stereotypical testerone-driven femme fatale whose amazing skills at anything including lighting a fire, are supposedly so ingenious that the whole race of humanity and neandertals are almost ready to worship her ... i found that rather pitiful
HARRY POTTER ...
fascinating book ... exceptional ... deserving all the billions that j.k. rowling, the author, made ... it is not escapist fantasy as many might think ... it does not avoid death or pain and harry potter is not insulated from calamity as many other protagonists are ... he is also just an average kid ... he is not a sports hunk neither is he a pock-marked wizkid poring through manuscripts with glasses or writing impressive software programmes ... he is just a normal boy who happens to be a wizard and is supposed to attend the hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry despite having to live with his muggle relatives who are just nothing but a pain in the ass ... an evil snaky-looking evil lord called voldermort is also after the life of this poor boy ... any teen will identify with the book ... and they do identify for they are the ones who have bought so many copies of the book that if they were laid on the ground in three layers they would cover the whole of brazil ... and if they were to form a trail they would go round the world thrice! .. j.k. is one storywriter!
WUTHERING HEIGHTS ...
completely ancient book of the 19th something ... written by emile bronte whose personal life was just as interesting as the novel ... it is a rather dreary tale about a certain dubious character healthcliff who roosts in one of those dreary castle where the sun never shines brightly enough on anything ... the story is so creepy and gloomy that after reading it i felt something eerie and wierd about the atmosphere that i could not put my finger on ... reading it is more like listening to one of those far-off death-themed soundtracks as found in the lord of the rings ... you might not necessarily understand the words but something very haunting about it keeps captivating you ... yea, i am not a really got plot outliner but this is just a blog and not an advertizing campaign
RICH DAD, POOR DAD ...
Fascinating book ... some very financially sound tips when it comes to investing your money ... loved the way he defined assets as things that bring money in and liabilities as things that expend your money ... this robert dude is really suave ... this reminds me that i have to get my copy back from a friend who has kept mum after borrowing it like many moons ago
THE ALCHEMIST ...
it starts as a rather simple tale about a shepherd boy looking for treasure buried beneath the pyramids ... it becomes a tale about the incredible possibilities of the human mind, the power of positive thinking and above all why we should all believe in our dreams ... loved the quote 'Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should lead their lives, but none about his or her own.' ... powerful book!
i will try to more to this list of my favourite books
Friday, November 24, 2006
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
if i could write a letter about iten
i wrote a letter to my brother yesterday ... it was raining and i thought that would be cool for inspiration ... i did jumble and jot many words down i remember ... but today in the morning i was too afraid to send it ... instead i just folded it sharply and placed it inside a novel
he is lucky that he gets written letters ... i only got three letters in high school ... perhaps that is not such a shame for an extreme introvert ... the first one was from my elder sister ... she wrote when i was in form one ... a lovely letter that ended with a cool catch-phrase, cheerio, that was the thingy for those heydays ... she demanded that i write back and just like yesterday i did scribble something down but it only ended between the pages of my exercise book ... she never wrote again!
the next one i received in fourth form ... it was a rather saucy letter from a girl i had no idea about ... i was more stupefied than impressed, and it came to my realization letter that all the 'let my love come flying like a jumbo jet to the airport of your heart' stuff was meant for another 'downstairs' guy in the next class ... one was referred to as a 'downstairs bloke' if their transcripts were one of the usuals that were decorated with capital Ds ... he stole my identity cause i was bright and quite unknown ... and the way my name was plastered proudly on the noticeboard for excellent results was a sure way of having the chick think of him as one solid brainiac ... it worked ... i idly returned the letter to the fella and did not even raise an issue ... all my energies were committed elsewhere
the last one i got in the midst of the fervent fires of the kcse exams ... it was from my sister who lives in swaziland ... it came with a delightful card and i proudly showcased it on top of my desk during moments of absurd vanity ... it was the first letter she wrote to me after moving there ... it appeared that she was rather happy and content ... the swaziland she described seemed remarkably different from kenya both in features and in culture that one could always be occupied with the satiation of their own curiosity ... she said that she was rather shy of displaying our photos for we were rather skinny as compared to those bootylicious swazis ... surprisingly, those 'reed dance' crazy folks down there have been feeding on mutated cows that take only three months to mature! ... better to remain a leaner but healthier-eating kenyan
it is not so hard to fall in love with letters especially if you come from iten ... a close friend told me frankly that to grow up in such a beautiful place ... close to the howling valley with its creamy fog ... meant that one could either go mad or become a poet ... the latter description better suits me thank you though much of my poetry i only read myself
i guess the valley will always be a part of my life ... it howls within me from time to time like a lover calling his man to her bosom ... i was always scared and i still am of looking down at it ... of course their was the profit of the panoramic view that opened before you ... a closer brown valley dotted with huts and lines of grevellia trees and a much more distant second one ... the second valley is always purple but with binoculars one can have a closer look at where the kerio river feeds the lake kamnarok and probably spot elephants taking a sip of water during a hot day
i have walked all the way down to that 'hell' ... for hell it is, burning and scalding hotter than anything i can ever imagine ... it was part of a hike we took while we were in high school ... and it firmly implanted the adage 'life is beautiful but cruel' into our young minds
descending down the first valley is not hard ... there are people mingling all over and cars flashing past on its way to either eldoret or kabarnet ...and since we left at dusk we were howling like dogs all the way probably scaring sleeping little children that a pack of jackals or T-9s had been let loose ... then we slipped down a narrow road that opened slowly like a ribbon to lead us down to the desolate second valley ... the trip down is beautiful ... brownish-green grass, virgin and untouched by human hand or a cow's mouth wave rustle softly in the wind reminding you of a beautiful woman ... and the path bear no sign of human feet ... you feel like adam or eve taking the first steps in a brand new planet
the experience was also very carthartic for long ago, the people of my tribe 'the keiyo' had stuck to the stiff sides of this escarpment to seek protection from the violent nandi, tugen and maasai tribes ... my mother has endowed me with many memories of my people and walking down the escarpment i could almost see them herding their goats, tending their streams of water, making mursik, giving their warcries when nandi warriors were spotted ... it was a war cry that even the goats knew very well and they would follow their owners into hiding ... leaving behind a deserted village
the torture begins once you are down the second valley ... it is not as flat as it is normally viewed as from iten ... it is just a chaos of hill and valley ... you struggle up the sharp incline of a hill, thinking that it is the last one and that you can finally be rewarded with the majestic view of the green lake kamnarok only to find out that there is another hill -and probably five others as well after that
but with a spirit that only high school students could have we struggled and leapt with young joy as we spotted the lake, it did not even matter that we could no longer touch it with the proliferation of weed around it ... it did not not even come to mind that there was another torturous back trip ... one in which many would have their legs fail them, one in which a student would be severely dehydrated that he would have to be hospitalized for a week, one in which a close friend would wonder of on his own and almost end up trampled by elephants ... we just celebrated the fact that our hard work had come to fruition and we could at least gaze close upon the lake ... it looked distant and inviting, almost hypnotic and all of us were mesmerized by a sensation almost alien ... i do not know whether our headmaster and literature felt the same for they had taken an easier hour drive to the lake with a weatherbeaten landrover ...
i will write my brother a letter another time!
he is lucky that he gets written letters ... i only got three letters in high school ... perhaps that is not such a shame for an extreme introvert ... the first one was from my elder sister ... she wrote when i was in form one ... a lovely letter that ended with a cool catch-phrase, cheerio, that was the thingy for those heydays ... she demanded that i write back and just like yesterday i did scribble something down but it only ended between the pages of my exercise book ... she never wrote again!
the next one i received in fourth form ... it was a rather saucy letter from a girl i had no idea about ... i was more stupefied than impressed, and it came to my realization letter that all the 'let my love come flying like a jumbo jet to the airport of your heart' stuff was meant for another 'downstairs' guy in the next class ... one was referred to as a 'downstairs bloke' if their transcripts were one of the usuals that were decorated with capital Ds ... he stole my identity cause i was bright and quite unknown ... and the way my name was plastered proudly on the noticeboard for excellent results was a sure way of having the chick think of him as one solid brainiac ... it worked ... i idly returned the letter to the fella and did not even raise an issue ... all my energies were committed elsewhere
the last one i got in the midst of the fervent fires of the kcse exams ... it was from my sister who lives in swaziland ... it came with a delightful card and i proudly showcased it on top of my desk during moments of absurd vanity ... it was the first letter she wrote to me after moving there ... it appeared that she was rather happy and content ... the swaziland she described seemed remarkably different from kenya both in features and in culture that one could always be occupied with the satiation of their own curiosity ... she said that she was rather shy of displaying our photos for we were rather skinny as compared to those bootylicious swazis ... surprisingly, those 'reed dance' crazy folks down there have been feeding on mutated cows that take only three months to mature! ... better to remain a leaner but healthier-eating kenyan
it is not so hard to fall in love with letters especially if you come from iten ... a close friend told me frankly that to grow up in such a beautiful place ... close to the howling valley with its creamy fog ... meant that one could either go mad or become a poet ... the latter description better suits me thank you though much of my poetry i only read myself
i guess the valley will always be a part of my life ... it howls within me from time to time like a lover calling his man to her bosom ... i was always scared and i still am of looking down at it ... of course their was the profit of the panoramic view that opened before you ... a closer brown valley dotted with huts and lines of grevellia trees and a much more distant second one ... the second valley is always purple but with binoculars one can have a closer look at where the kerio river feeds the lake kamnarok and probably spot elephants taking a sip of water during a hot day
i have walked all the way down to that 'hell' ... for hell it is, burning and scalding hotter than anything i can ever imagine ... it was part of a hike we took while we were in high school ... and it firmly implanted the adage 'life is beautiful but cruel' into our young minds
descending down the first valley is not hard ... there are people mingling all over and cars flashing past on its way to either eldoret or kabarnet ...and since we left at dusk we were howling like dogs all the way probably scaring sleeping little children that a pack of jackals or T-9s had been let loose ... then we slipped down a narrow road that opened slowly like a ribbon to lead us down to the desolate second valley ... the trip down is beautiful ... brownish-green grass, virgin and untouched by human hand or a cow's mouth wave rustle softly in the wind reminding you of a beautiful woman ... and the path bear no sign of human feet ... you feel like adam or eve taking the first steps in a brand new planet
the experience was also very carthartic for long ago, the people of my tribe 'the keiyo' had stuck to the stiff sides of this escarpment to seek protection from the violent nandi, tugen and maasai tribes ... my mother has endowed me with many memories of my people and walking down the escarpment i could almost see them herding their goats, tending their streams of water, making mursik, giving their warcries when nandi warriors were spotted ... it was a war cry that even the goats knew very well and they would follow their owners into hiding ... leaving behind a deserted village
the torture begins once you are down the second valley ... it is not as flat as it is normally viewed as from iten ... it is just a chaos of hill and valley ... you struggle up the sharp incline of a hill, thinking that it is the last one and that you can finally be rewarded with the majestic view of the green lake kamnarok only to find out that there is another hill -and probably five others as well after that
but with a spirit that only high school students could have we struggled and leapt with young joy as we spotted the lake, it did not even matter that we could no longer touch it with the proliferation of weed around it ... it did not not even come to mind that there was another torturous back trip ... one in which many would have their legs fail them, one in which a student would be severely dehydrated that he would have to be hospitalized for a week, one in which a close friend would wonder of on his own and almost end up trampled by elephants ... we just celebrated the fact that our hard work had come to fruition and we could at least gaze close upon the lake ... it looked distant and inviting, almost hypnotic and all of us were mesmerized by a sensation almost alien ... i do not know whether our headmaster and literature felt the same for they had taken an easier hour drive to the lake with a weatherbeaten landrover ...
i will write my brother a letter another time!
Friday, November 03, 2006
am listening to James Blunt's 'you are beautiful' while writing this
i have been discovered ... not that i have committed any crime but it is just that my blog was my own private secret for my own private thoughts ... it was a way of getting lost from the world, for a moment at least and trying to be this mdkims being ... yea, my siblings finally came to realize that i was the guy behind mdkims after i left a flashdisk hanging around somewhere with my writing ... nways that is all water under the bridge
i have not blogged for a while ... i kinda decided to go for some soul-searching and to find inspirations in the small things of life that people do not usually see in the scurry and scramble that is their wake ... actually i think am a loser when it comes to that ... not that i do not find inspiration just that i find it hard to effectively describe such situations with words ... i expect people to feel what i am feeling without me saying anything ... this has often resulted in odd and unfriendly stares from friends and acquaintances alike
keeping that odd and unfriendly stares in mind, i am reminded of high school and being in form one specifically ... we were coming with this friend of mine, fresh and friendly from laden with good tidingsof chapatis, mahamris, mkarangos, drinking chocolate to be mixed with blueband, cocoa for cold power and a lot of other boola boola that we happened to possess at the time ... then we noticed this strange stares we got from our mono peers ... they hovered like desperate bats in the windows around the administration block waving their arms about at us ... we were like what ... but they only kept rounding their mouths into silent Qs and Os keeping on bloodshot eyes ..we amua to lenga and kept walking proudly like kings ... then as suddenly as the day had been clear and bright it became dark and ominous as a scroungel of form twos appeared from a corridor and passed gently around us ... so gently did they filch from us that it happened right under the noses of the teachers who tried so hard but rather very daftly to protect us ... i still have not figured out what exactly happened but what i do know is that many of the mahamris and chapatis were gone ... and as we went for consolations from our mono peers we realized that their arm-waving and odd-stres thing had been secret morse codes telling us that the form twos were rather dangerous that day ... of course, like hapless baboons they were soon begging us the few remaining pieces of chapos and mahamris and out of our big hearts or lack of otherwise we rather half-heartedly surrendered everything
one of the biggest scares we had as monos was a terryifying word GRADUATION DAY ... we were told that on that day form-fours would beat the chicken out of us all toddlers so that only real men could go and become form twos ... and there were the horrible statistics that on average three boys died every year ... form twos who loved revenging on us for sufferings they felt in their first year told us that even the headmaster dared not stop anyone on that day and locked himself in his house leaving everyone to his own fate ... of course, it was all balderdash ... there was nothing like graduation day but when you are young, callow and craven you can believe any crap around ...
so every evening around third term as the fourth years pressed on towards kcse we began eyeing each other with terrified looks any time we heard a commotion around prep time ... the worst day came when power went out and we were left in the dark ... there was something in the air rather sinister that day and looking back through my memories i cannot quite put my finger on what it was ... all i know is that another guy called isaac and i began firmly assuring everyone that whatever happened we should not scramble off and that if we stuck together we could make a formidable army ... i doubt if anyone was really listening to us for even in the darkness you could feel their eyes dancing around ... then a branch brushed against the window, then another and soon there was such a rush of branches being hit against the windows that it was almost like the sound of the rain ... isaac and i were the first to jump off a corner window ... he was more agile than i and was on the window ledge faster ... i felt as if he was taking such a long while so i pushed him and his trousers got caught on a hook and was all ripped up ... i did not care ... all i knew was that i was going to run to a nearby catholic church and seek for clemency and safety in its sacred altars ... somehow we all had that idea for everyone was following me ... i saw that that was not good and made a point to run faster ... it became nothing more than a point for my limbs did not agree and to see the numbers of teens who rushed past me one would have thought i was actually running backwards ....
that day was quite long but for the school gates were firmly locked and the and the watchman felt nothing for our plight ... slowly we came to realize that it was all in vain ... there was never a graduation day and never was there to be ... in fact, those same fourth years were the same ones who came to commiserate with us thinking we had all gone bonkers ... it finally dawned on us that the whole branches-against-the-windows thing was all the work of a cheeky fellow mono called Leila and his petty gang! we all fell splat into their mudtrap! they had to make themselves very scarce that day and the next for many hands itched to strangle them
one of the worst situations that could have happened to a mono in our time was the hanging-in-the-closet thingy ... form fours shared rooms in twos and the two would connive so that one of them would pretend to be friendly to a mono ... take the mono to their room ... give him cold power, hot power, biscuits, bread (twas the high school delight and most relished), quencher and stuff ... he would even give one a trendy blazer to put on as a point of honour ... then he would excuse himself to go out for something and guess who comes strolling in ... the other roommate and mad as a thousand hells he would be
"form one unafanya nini hapa ... umeanza kumea pembe na kuanza kuniibia eeeee .... ngoja utajua mimi ni nani leo"
between the mouthfuls of bread and hot power the mono would have in his mouth, the mono would scarcely be able to breathe, let alone speak ... the form four would promptly take a hangar, put it inside the trendy blazer with the mono still wearing it and placing him as if he was a piece of cloth in his closet ... the mono would have paid with his blood to be released ... wow, that was one cruel prank!
the thing i remember about the form fours of our time was their determination to bend all rules ... tv and movies had to be off by 10:30 but one time while watching a rather sleazy movie they decided to extend time from 11 ... 12 ... the watchman came in ... put the lights on and demanded that the tv be put off ... he was promptly lifted up like a feather, put inside a drum, a lid was placed on top, someone sat on it to threaten him with kicks if he dared shout, the lights were put on and everyone continued watching the movie calmly as if nothing happened! ....
what a life highschool was!
i have not blogged for a while ... i kinda decided to go for some soul-searching and to find inspirations in the small things of life that people do not usually see in the scurry and scramble that is their wake ... actually i think am a loser when it comes to that ... not that i do not find inspiration just that i find it hard to effectively describe such situations with words ... i expect people to feel what i am feeling without me saying anything ... this has often resulted in odd and unfriendly stares from friends and acquaintances alike
keeping that odd and unfriendly stares in mind, i am reminded of high school and being in form one specifically ... we were coming with this friend of mine, fresh and friendly from laden with good tidingsof chapatis, mahamris, mkarangos, drinking chocolate to be mixed with blueband, cocoa for cold power and a lot of other boola boola that we happened to possess at the time ... then we noticed this strange stares we got from our mono peers ... they hovered like desperate bats in the windows around the administration block waving their arms about at us ... we were like what ... but they only kept rounding their mouths into silent Qs and Os keeping on bloodshot eyes ..we amua to lenga and kept walking proudly like kings ... then as suddenly as the day had been clear and bright it became dark and ominous as a scroungel of form twos appeared from a corridor and passed gently around us ... so gently did they filch from us that it happened right under the noses of the teachers who tried so hard but rather very daftly to protect us ... i still have not figured out what exactly happened but what i do know is that many of the mahamris and chapatis were gone ... and as we went for consolations from our mono peers we realized that their arm-waving and odd-stres thing had been secret morse codes telling us that the form twos were rather dangerous that day ... of course, like hapless baboons they were soon begging us the few remaining pieces of chapos and mahamris and out of our big hearts or lack of otherwise we rather half-heartedly surrendered everything
one of the biggest scares we had as monos was a terryifying word GRADUATION DAY ... we were told that on that day form-fours would beat the chicken out of us all toddlers so that only real men could go and become form twos ... and there were the horrible statistics that on average three boys died every year ... form twos who loved revenging on us for sufferings they felt in their first year told us that even the headmaster dared not stop anyone on that day and locked himself in his house leaving everyone to his own fate ... of course, it was all balderdash ... there was nothing like graduation day but when you are young, callow and craven you can believe any crap around ...
so every evening around third term as the fourth years pressed on towards kcse we began eyeing each other with terrified looks any time we heard a commotion around prep time ... the worst day came when power went out and we were left in the dark ... there was something in the air rather sinister that day and looking back through my memories i cannot quite put my finger on what it was ... all i know is that another guy called isaac and i began firmly assuring everyone that whatever happened we should not scramble off and that if we stuck together we could make a formidable army ... i doubt if anyone was really listening to us for even in the darkness you could feel their eyes dancing around ... then a branch brushed against the window, then another and soon there was such a rush of branches being hit against the windows that it was almost like the sound of the rain ... isaac and i were the first to jump off a corner window ... he was more agile than i and was on the window ledge faster ... i felt as if he was taking such a long while so i pushed him and his trousers got caught on a hook and was all ripped up ... i did not care ... all i knew was that i was going to run to a nearby catholic church and seek for clemency and safety in its sacred altars ... somehow we all had that idea for everyone was following me ... i saw that that was not good and made a point to run faster ... it became nothing more than a point for my limbs did not agree and to see the numbers of teens who rushed past me one would have thought i was actually running backwards ....
that day was quite long but for the school gates were firmly locked and the and the watchman felt nothing for our plight ... slowly we came to realize that it was all in vain ... there was never a graduation day and never was there to be ... in fact, those same fourth years were the same ones who came to commiserate with us thinking we had all gone bonkers ... it finally dawned on us that the whole branches-against-the-windows thing was all the work of a cheeky fellow mono called Leila and his petty gang! we all fell splat into their mudtrap! they had to make themselves very scarce that day and the next for many hands itched to strangle them
one of the worst situations that could have happened to a mono in our time was the hanging-in-the-closet thingy ... form fours shared rooms in twos and the two would connive so that one of them would pretend to be friendly to a mono ... take the mono to their room ... give him cold power, hot power, biscuits, bread (twas the high school delight and most relished), quencher and stuff ... he would even give one a trendy blazer to put on as a point of honour ... then he would excuse himself to go out for something and guess who comes strolling in ... the other roommate and mad as a thousand hells he would be
"form one unafanya nini hapa ... umeanza kumea pembe na kuanza kuniibia eeeee .... ngoja utajua mimi ni nani leo"
between the mouthfuls of bread and hot power the mono would have in his mouth, the mono would scarcely be able to breathe, let alone speak ... the form four would promptly take a hangar, put it inside the trendy blazer with the mono still wearing it and placing him as if he was a piece of cloth in his closet ... the mono would have paid with his blood to be released ... wow, that was one cruel prank!
the thing i remember about the form fours of our time was their determination to bend all rules ... tv and movies had to be off by 10:30 but one time while watching a rather sleazy movie they decided to extend time from 11 ... 12 ... the watchman came in ... put the lights on and demanded that the tv be put off ... he was promptly lifted up like a feather, put inside a drum, a lid was placed on top, someone sat on it to threaten him with kicks if he dared shout, the lights were put on and everyone continued watching the movie calmly as if nothing happened! ....
what a life highschool was!
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