A chapter and a book

About 4 years ago in 2007, there were many farewells for me. I resigned from the company which I worked for almost 30 years, bidding goodbye to many close colleagues. In the same year, my daughter left home for college education in the states. My maid for more than 12 years went home to Sri Lanka. My neighbour who shared the same backyard fence sold her house; whilst the neighbour on my left who is a diplomat was posted to Laos and moved there with his entire family. I can still remember waving to his adorable 5 year old son when the car left for the airport.

This diplomat neighbour has returned after a 4 year posting and is moving in next week after renovating his house. Tonight I am going to the States to attend my daughter's convocation. If she decides to accept a job offer in Singapore, she too would be back. In a flash, I think of this 4 year period like a chapter in a book. During this period I had to struggle to re-establish a new identity within myself. There was lots of time for reflection and letting the real needs surface. Though I can't say that I really know myself now, I think I am at least a bit closer to my inner self than before.

Also in a homecoming of sorts, I have in my book shelf amongst many old and brownish looking books one titled "Brothers Karamazov" by Dostoyevsky. When I was reading a book introducing existentialism a few months back, there was mention that Dostoyevsky, the Russian writer is one of the early existentialists. Hence my interest was stirred and I picked up the book by Dostoyevsky to read "again" with very little recollection of having read it before. The first page on the left upper corner was my signature and the date "7-6-76". I bought the book some 35 years ago! The book has 382 pages. To help me appreciate the book better I also surfed the net for some critical analysis and was surprised when someone mentioned that the book has 900 pages. Perhaps the guy had one with large fonts because mine has really very small font. However when I was about 50 pages to the end I became puzzled that the story was no where ending. I then scrutinized the faded cover only to discover there was a faint and almost invisible "1" after the title, denoting it to be volume 1. I told my son about it and he remarked that I set a guiness record for taking 35 years to read a book only to realise it is half way through. Somehow I feel it is also symbolic of me realising that I still do not know how my own story should be after 35years.

I went to the library to borrow the complete volumes and have just finished reading it. I realised that 35 years ago I abandoned the book half way which explained why I did not proceed to buy the second volume. In retrospect it was a good thing because I would never have appreciated the book as a young person of early twenties. Now with an additional 35 years of meeting, observing and engaging with various types of people, as well as my own self reflection, I can relate more to this epic novel about 4 brother who are each trapped in their own way, one a prisoner of passion and sensuality, one of intellect, one of spirituality and one of dire external circumstances. In a way my finishing this book after 35 years adds on to my recent feeling of homecoming.