Tomorrow is another day

I love sunsets. No matter how bad my day is, a few minutes alone on the terrace, at dusk, manages to soothe my hurt mind and senses. Its like taking a dip in a sea of tranquility.

The Thorn Birds

.. took me 5 years to finish. No, I didn’t read a paragraph a day, I had actually progressed quite rapidly through the book, but when I reached the end, I realized to my absolute horror that the last chapter had been torn off(I had quite idiotically not checked to see if all the pages were there, whilst borrowing the book from the library).I did try obtaining it from various sources but wasn’t at all successful, later I got busy with life and the thought of getting the book was gradually forgotten.
So, when five years later, my sis comes home with a copy of this very book in her hand, my surprise & happiness knew no bounds.
“My cup runneth over” I yelled out loud,
to which she, used to my sudden emotional outbursts by now, walked on by, unfazed.
Anyway, after I wrestled the book away from her, I starting reading the last chapter and was quite happy to remember all the characters really well. It is a fantastic book. Even though I’m not too crazy of books which fall into the family drama category, I totally enjoyed this one. Made me crave and wish for more brilliant writers like Colleen McCullough . Every emotion struck a cord and the book was nothing if not soul-stirring.This is one of those books which one just *has* to read in their life time.
I’m not going to write about the story, like I usually do, but instead I’m going to write the book’s brilliant opening parah:
“There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches ,it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine .And ,dying, it rises above its own agony to out-carol the lark and the nightingale .One superlatives song, existence the price .But the whole world stills to listen and God in his heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain…..Or so says the legend.”
[No. of pages: 560]

The Last Juror

……………barely passed muster. I bought it basically because it was a ‘John Grisham’ novel and his books have a certain palpable excitement to them. This one though boasted of a slow humdrum. Set in the 1970’s, it tells the tale of Willie Traynor, a 23 yr old college dropout who assumes ownership of a bankrupt newspaper. A brutal murder occurs in the town and with the paper reporting it all, it begins to rake in the moolah. The murderer is tried before a jury who convict him and he swears revenge against them all. After a couple of years, he gets paroled and retribution begins. The book isn’t a complete washout and is extremely readable in parts. You even begin to connect with Willie & his struggle and feel warmly for Miss Callie, a maternal figure to Willie. It’s a slight drift from the usual Grisham and though this lullaby is soothing, it’s for the adrenalin that I thrive.
[No. of pages: 505]