Kailasa of Ellora [Blank Verse]

They carved a temple in a mountainside,
Cutting away all rock that wasn't temple,
Chipping from the top down and outside-in,
Until some domed stone segregated sky
From inner sanctum and all its idols,
And it has stood over twelve hundred years,
And it will surely stand twelve hundred more,
But someday it'll be a mountain again.

BOOKS: “Pawan” by Sorabh Pant

Pawan: The Flying AccountantPawan: The Flying Accountant by Sorabh Pant
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

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On one level, the more superficial level, this is a superhero fantasy featuring a Vanara (a supernatural monkey-man creature from Indian mythology,) on another level it’s a political satire that riffs on the geopolitics and the military-industrial complex of India. It’s cleverer as the latter than the former.

The story has some clunkiness, including the occasional hard to follow description and sloppy story elements (e.g. the deus ex machina.) That said, it’s pop genre fiction and with regards sloppy story elements they’re par for the course in superhero fiction. My point being that the fact that it’s amusing and mostly readable means it hits its target, strained credulity and logical inconsistencies aside.

The humor is of the broadest range with occasional laugh-out-loud hilarity, lots of mildly amusing jokes, and a few groan-worthy lines that go down like a lead-balloon. That’s not a terrible ratio for a novel.

If you want to check out a book featuring an Indian mythology-based superhero, and you don’t mind a lot of jokes directed at political and national security apparatus leadership, this book is worth looking into.

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DAILY PHOTO: Sri Narasimhaswamy Temple, Srirangapatna

DAILY PHOTO: Scenes from Diwali 2023, Bangalore

Brahma by Ralph Waldo Emerson

If the red slayer think he slays,
   Or if the slain think he is slain,
 They know not well the subtle ways
   I keep, and pass, and turn again.

Far or forgot to me is near;
   Shadow and sunlight are the same;
 The vanished gods to me appear;
   And one to me are shame and fame.

They reckon ill who leave me out;
   When me they fly, I am the wings;
 I am the doubter and the doubt,
   I am the hymn the Brahmin sings.

The strong gods pine for my abode,
   And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
 But thou, meek lover of the good!
   Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.