Archive for October, 2010

The Devil Wears Prada

My head feels fuzzy and I’ve just reached the present grounds after being engaged with a novel for past four hours. I have to say the best feeling I get from a book is being so indulged in it that I lose track of the chapters. Also the attitude brought about by an gripping story, reading past midnight till you get to the core of things, or as far as your eyelids can muster the strength to remain separated.

I finished The Devil Wears Prada last night, so I thought to write something about it as a record. I believe even fiction has some resemblance to real world or some moral to the story. Will not be wasting my time writing the storyline of the book (oh so miranda priestly!). It showed how we give ourselves up to be swallowed by the world of materialism and career concerns, not noticing when our relations fall apart. The higher your worldly aim is, the more people you have to tread over

to get there. This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t follow your dreams. Not at all. Just make sure you’re choosing the right path to get to your destination. Sh

ort cuts can be just an illusion. So when you reach the top of the ladder, and look around to see that no one is by your side, it may not all seem worth the effort.

The book may put you off to get into fashion orientated career, its definitely a good read for the magazine-cum-weight loss ladies. =)


Tear drop!

She closed her eyes for some moments. And thought of him. A tear dropped! Her eyes opened, her senses had awakened, something that she didn’t want. No memory of his was ever to pass across her mind again. Why was it so hard to repress the memory.

Another tear! What was she, an object of someone’s desire, or a human with a heart and soul. Could she not be loved back the same way. Why wasn’t her love as disperesed, or altered by other beings that crossed her path. Why had it become enchanted by only his presence.

And a word, an echo from him made her feel like she was walking on the canopy of clouds, the world under her feet, with fresh breeze touching her face. She could tip toe in her white dress and spin in circles, she could feel the softening of her mood and playing of the piano. What had awakened her this way, was her love.

Yet he had left her quietly. For another girl. And gave her the reason to repress the feelings he himself was determined to arouse in her. It wasn’t easy. Neither to accept the loss, nor reach out in thin air. Love can sometimes be a feeling as light as a floating feather, or a curse left after indulging into something forbidden.