Animal Farm

I recently finished reading the book “Animal Farm” by George Orwell and it gave me some sense of satisfaction of having done something significant after finishing off with college.

Anyways, the book is excellent and it feels really good to know that one has read a book that has been highly acclaimed by critics world over (at number 31 in the Time magazine’s list of 100 best English language novels from 1923 to 2005). The book is a satire showcasing how the ideals of socialism and communism were distorted by its leaders and for this purpose the author has chosen the animals of a farm (the Animal Farm) to depict the proletariat class. A little knowledge about the rise of communism and its prevalence in USSR greatly helps. One can actually relate to the animals in a sense that how leaders (represented by pigs in the book) are corrupted by greed and power, how they manipulate public (the other animals on the farm) and how they justify all their wrongdoings by either refuting their earlier promises and ideals or by crushing any voices that are raised against them. Like Panchtantra, the book does not need a particular period of time or the race/nationality to convey its message. Probably that is what makes it stand out.

The book is very short and the vocabulary used is also very simple (two factors which greatly inspired me to read it :) ). Unlike some of my friends who over the years have given me complex over the number and the quality of books read, I am not an avid reader, neither am I able to do the analysis like they do. Wikipedia and Shelfari really help a lot in such cases and this time it was no exception either. Here's the wikipedia link http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Animal_farm

The creativity of Orwell and his unique style to portray human nature make it a wonderful book to read. 

Will miss you a lot...

People without whom this journey of 4 years would not have been beautiful...

....

"Aviral!!! Aviral!!!...Baahar aaa saale.."

I woke up with a start. Varun was still sleeping on the mattress on the floor. I ran out of the room to the balcony. Rohit was calling my name, the way he always did, probably to call me for playing cricket, for going to department or for something else. My eyes searched for him. He wasn't there. His room was locked, so was everybody else's.  The lawn was empty. 

Realization dawned upon me. I myself had gone to railway station the other day to see him off.