Friday, December 13, 2019

The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger - Kitabi Karwan Repost



View this post on Instagram

The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger A close friend warned me that I won’t enjoy this book as much as I might have, had I read it when I was a teenager. Yet, I went ahead with it, simply because I personally believe that reflecting on ideals, at any of the different stages of life (or reading, whatever floats your boat) is therapeutic and worth exploring. To that extent, this book is perhaps, as any cliched literature connoisseur might tell you, is the best reflection of teenage angst that has ever been penned. It is hard to dispute the fact, and I won’t, but what got me thinking was the underlying hints of mental health issues which are often dismissed as teenage outbursts. The extremity of the protagonist’s thoughts, the constant mood swings and even a slight suggestion of child abuse trauma made me ponder over the lack of conversation surrounding mental health development in adolescents. Even though we as a society are far more progressive with regard to the concept of wholesome development and health compared to the 1940s and 50s in America, the absence of systematic support to young adults affected by “teenage angst” is glaring. The troubled life of the author of this classic in itself is a brilliant case for what a life without proper mental health interventions may turn out to be. The alleged semi-biographical nature of the book is reflected often in parallels between the protagonist’s and the author’s behaviour with regard to many things such as women (both demonstrated a rather dismissive and nonchalant approach towards women, and often gravitated towards women with wide age gaps) and society (their reclusive nature, disregard and divisive attitude towards “phones” etc.) I intend to make my future kids read this book. Once they do so, I would take them out and talk to them, and perhaps figure out together where do the ducks go during winters :) #thecatcherintherye #jdsalinger #paperback #teen #teenangst #mentalhealth #angst #childabuse #trauma #rebel #rebellion #teenagerebel #teenrebellion #fiction #classic #classics #reading #bookstgram #books #book #americanfiction #classicfiction #kitab #karvan #kitabikarvan #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #society
A post shared by Kitabi Karwan (@kitabikarwan) on



A close friend warned me that I won’t enjoy this book as much as I might have had I read it when I was a teenager. Yet, I went ahead with it, simply because I personally believe that reflecting on ideals, at any of the different stages of life (or reading, whatever floats your boat) is therapeutic and worth exploring. To that extent, this book is perhaps, as any cliched literature connoisseur might tell you, is the best reflection of teenage angst that has ever been penned. It is hard to dispute the fact, and I won’t, but what got me thinking was the underlying hints of mental health issues which are often dismissed as teenage outbursts. 

The extremity of the protagonist’s thoughts, the constant mood swings and even a slight suggestion of child abuse trauma made me ponder over the lack of conversation surrounding mental health development in adolescents. Even though we as a society are far more progressive with regard to the concept of wholesome development and health compared to the 1940s and 50s in America, the absence of systematic support to young adults affected by “teenage angst” is glaring.

This might not seem to be a bothersome issue to some, or a pressing one, but I beg to disagree. In fact, the troubled life of the author of this classic in itself is a brilliant case for what a life without proper mental health interventions may turn out to be. The alleged semi-biographical nature of the book is reflected often in parallels between the protagonist’s and the author’s behaviour with regard to many things such as women (both demonstrated a rather dismissive and nonchalant approach towards women, and often gravitated towards women with wide age gaps) and society (their reclusive nature, disregard and divisive attitude towards “phones” etc.)

On the whole, I intend to make my future kids, nieces, nephews and all other familial relationships you can imagine vis-a-vis children, read this book. Once they do so, I would take them out to a park, or a museum, have a conversation with them, and perhaps figure out together where do the ducks go during winters :) 

Wednesday, December 4, 2019

Tuesday’s with Morrie by Mitch Albom - Kitabi Karwan Repost


View this post on Instagram

Tuesday’s with Morrie by Mitch Albom (@mitchalbom ) A multitude of metaphors are deployed for describing life, but rarely do we see life being seen as a lesson in itself. In an almost Kantian manner, Tuesday’s with Morrie is a beautiful book taking on life, as an end in itself. As someone on the brink of entering my late twenties, a book about life lessons by a dying professor to one of his students seems almost therapeutic...to the extent that it somehow predicates some, and probably all the errors I’ll make in life. As lovely as the lessons delivered by Morrie in a rather matter-of-factly manner are, I’m in somewhat of a conundrum. The first thought that crossed my mind after finishing the book was that poetically human beings only appreciate lessons only after taking the fall from incorrect decisions. At least a good chunk of them do anyway. Thus, any aphorisms (the new word I picked up from the book) about life are at best an effort to blunt the impact of the mistakes we’ll inevitably make. Personally, I’m not a fatalist or a pessimist, and I am a huge believer of books that help us improve our lives. But that being said, I stick by my original thought that often we end up making mistakes or taking decisions that strongly stand in the way dictated by these lessons. Then what role do these lessons play? I believe the lessons serve as reminders rather than guides, and prevent us from the trappings of the extremities of a pragmatic world. So yes, I’ll end up chasing a conventional career regardless of the number of people who tell me that a career won’t be what satisfies me the most. But I would like to believe that when it comes to choosing between my career and say family or friendship relations, I would always choose the latter, thanks to Morrie (and many others’) reminders. #reading #bookstgram #books #book #kitab #karvan #kitabikarvan #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #nonfiction #life #selfhelp #selfhelpbook #selfhelpbooks #hope #tuesdaythoughts #tuesdaypeople #tuesdaymotivation #tuesdayswithmorrie #mitchalbom #morrie #teacher #professor #lifelessons #lifelesson
A post shared by Kitabi Karwan (@kitabikarwan) on



A multitude of metaphors are deployed for describing life, but rarely do we see life being seen as a lesson in itself. In an almost Kantian manner, Tuesday’s with Morrie is a beautiful book taking on life, as an end in itself. As someone on the brink of entering my late twenties, a book about life lessons by a dying professor to one of his students seems almost therapeutic...to the extent that it somehow predicates some, and probably all the errors I’ll make in life.
As lovely as the lessons delivered by Morrie in a rather matter-of-factly manner are, I’m in somewhat of a conundrum. The first thought that crossed my mind after finishing the book was that poetically human beings only appreciate lessons only after taking the fall from incorrect decisions. At least a good chunk of them do anyway. Thus, any aphorisms (the new word I picked up from the book) about life are at best an effort to blunt the impact of the mistakes we’ll inevitably make.


Personally, I’m not a fatalist or a pessimist, and I am a huge believer of books that help us improve our lives. But that being said, I stick by my original thought that often we end up making mistakes or taking decisions that strongly stand in the way dictated by these lessons. Then what role do these lessons play? I believe the lessons serve as reminders rather than guides, and prevent us from the trappings of the extremities of a pragmatic world. So yes, I’ll end up chasing a conventional career regardless of the number of people who tell me that a career won’t be what satisfies me the most. But I would like to believe that when it comes to choosing between my career and say family or friendship relations, I would always choose the latter, thanks to Morrie (and many others’) reminders.

Sunday, December 1, 2019

Everything is F*cked: A Book About Hope by Mark Manson - Kitabi Karwan Repost




View this post on Instagram

Everything is F*cked: A Book About Hope by Mark Manson Common sense, logical analysis and critical thinking are powerful tools to understand practically everything, and that’s what Mark Manson is all about. Everything is F*cked is his follow up book, and it shines just as much as the previous one, which is…not a lot. Forgive me for being counterintuitive in my method of communication (I swear it is not a pun on the books’ underlying ideas), but reading this book was a strange experience for me. I remember reading the first book during a slightly confusing and turbulent time in my life, and finding it to be one of the best books I have read in a while. I rated it a five on five and recommended it as a must-read. However, even though the content of this second book was just as…for a lack of proper word, pathbreaking, I felt let down, which got me pondering about the difference. Soon it dawned upon me that books, like us, are subject to the whims of time and context, not just of the publishing era, but also the personal environment and mindset of the reader. In retrospect, Mark Manson’s advice in both books seems nothing but an extension of what one would conclude if they simply thought logically and rationally. The problem is, the same can only be done in a good mental zone, one which is at best at a manageable level of stress or activity. Ergo, I believe this book would impact each one of you differently and leave people polarised simply because of the unique zones we’ll end up reading them in. Both of the books are not huge leaps of information or ideas or thinking for me personally. The writing style is definitely unique, eclectic and fresh, which perhaps glams up the content. But striped down to its bare content, the book suffers in multiple ways. I noticed some absurd leaps of faith as well, and also a poor understanding of deep philosophical concepts such as the writings of Kant, and a supremely biased understanding of the consequences of the upcoming AI revolution. #reading #bookstgram #books #book #kitab #karvan #kitabikarvan #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #everythingisfucked #markmanson #nonfiction #life #selfhelp #selfhelpbook #selfhelpbooks #hope
A post shared by Kitabi Karwan (@kitabikarwan) on

Common sense, logical analysis and critical thinking are powerful tools to understand practically everything, and that’s what Mark Manson is all about. Everything is F*cked is his follow up book, and it shines just as much as the previous one, which is…not a lot. Forgive me for being counterintuitive in my method of communication (I swear it is not a pun on the books’ underlying ideas), but reading this book was a strange experience for me. I remember reading the first book during a slightly confusing and turbulent time in my life, and finding it to be one of the best books I have read in a while. I rated it a five on five and recommended it as a must-read. However, even though the content of this second book was just as…for a lack of proper word, pathbreaking, I felt let down, which got me pondering about the difference. Soon it dawned upon me that books, like us, are subject to the whims of time and context, not just of the publishing era, but also the personal environment and mindset of the reader. In retrospect, Mark Manson’s advice in both books seems nothing but an extension of what one would conclude if they simply thought logically and rationally. The problem is, the same can only be done in a good mental zone, one which is at best at a manageable level of stress or activity. Ergo, I believe this book would impact each one of you differently and leave people polarised simply because of the unique zones we’ll end up reading them in.
Both of the books are not huge leaps of information or ideas or thinking for me personally. The writing style is definitely unique, eclectic and fresh, which perhaps glams up the content. But striped down to its bare content, the book suffers in multiple ways. I noticed some absurd leaps of faith as well, and also a poor understanding of deep philosophical concepts such as the writings of Kant, and a supremely biased understanding of the consequences of the upcoming AI revolution.