There are certain things that you could never understand. At least to a certain extent, it would be difficult to articulate, fathom and assure to yourself, that something of that sort could happen. Reading “Wave” gave me an experience of such, which will never be forgotten, for sure. Its deep evocative poignancy still haunts my mind, even after completing the reading for days. It is not a mere memoir; it is indeed more than a book that represents mere details. Each word, phrase and sentence has been crafted with an utmost essence of love. If you are person who could sense the moisture of words, the fragility of phrases, and the warmth a sentence could bring; I attest, you would never find a substitute to this piece of work.
Writing in retrospect, isn’t an easy task. Recalling the memories of a colorful past, transcribing thoughts into words and rearranging it with an eye on readability, only a writer could possibly understand the excruciating pain the author had undergone. Yet, I must clearly state that the writer has always been able to share a glimpse of hope even in the most hideous incidents that she had to experience. It isn’t a book of mourning. it isn’t a book of sorrow or lamenting. It is a book of life. Life is a whirlpool of emotions which in turn creates its beauty. This book compels the reader to endure the beauty of love, even foregone. Swiftly and tenderly, it wings up to appreciate all shades of memories. Later, it behests the reader to celebrate life, even amidst its fragility and impermanence and that marks its uniqueness.
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