The Life of Pi

I spent the greater part of my saturday finishing the Life of Pi . It was amazing. Considering I had taken a good 6-7 months to get across the first 80 odd pages. Not to blame the book itself for this joyous dash from page 1 to page 80, I will attribute it to other 'uncontrollable factors'. Anyways, that I finished 250 something pages in a few hours on a beautiful Saturday speaks favourably of the book. It is a story that had several elements to catch my attention - My love for biology, especially of the zoological aspect; my love for animals themselves; my philosophies - particularly my religious sentiments, or rather my secular and non-religious ones; my vegetarianism; my resignation towards flowery language and yet the grudging affinity for verbose and amusing writing; my appreciation for resourcefulness; even my typical inclination towards tales with twisted tails... All in all, I cant put a finger on one thing that made me journey with Pi over the seas of pages. It would take several fingers and I have only 2 pairs of limbs. At points in the book, I felt the motion sickness Pi battled, I felt like reaching under my bed and warmly and benevolently patting the cool, wet muzzle of my very own feline ally. I felt the twinge of guilt for that first flying fish and the pang of remorse for the turtle. More than anything, I could not miss the philosophical titbits sometimes hidden and at other times flaunted in the bounty of anecdotal recounts, all threads woven into a rich and colourful fabric - one that I covered myself in a settled into a Saturday reading fever. I like the different style and the real descriptions. That's something I worry about regarding my own writing abilities. I can describe people, emotions... can I also describe things, places and happenings to create the same interest, credibility and rapture? Again, Pi has become a friend who is gently coaxing me to make the trip I have promised myself, to observe, learn and write. To process, and deliver. I must. Someday.