Reading Time: 4 minutes
Abu reviewsGypsy Wanderings & Random Reflections by Dr. Sunil Kaushal, exclusively for Different Truths.
Book: Gypsy Wanderings & Random Reflections
Author: Dr. Sunil Kaushal
As a child, I was loner, quiet and introverted. Being extremely sensitive meant getting hurt easily; empathizing with the underdog, I ran into chances of becoming vulnerable myself. I would recede into my shell, only occasionally coming out of an emotional vacuum of my own making. However, that did not stop me, my true strengths from blossoming. (p.153)
Or
She is the one who does not fit in, is lonely, lacking a sense of belonging for she belongs only to herself. Although she yearns to be accepted when accepted by others, she herself moves away after some time; she is forever on a journey of self-discovery, feeling different from society’s norms. (p.153)
Dr. Sunil Kaushal, a retired gynecologist turned trilingual writer-poet, was awarded with many prestigious awards
Dr. Sunil Kaushal, a retired gynaecologist turned trilingual writer-poet, was awarded many prestigious awards such as The Enchanting Muse Award, Fellow of the Regal World of Scribes, Women’s Achiever’s Award. She was also awarded the Best President Lioness, Asia Award by Lion’s International for the work she did for the welfare of the women and children. It is indeed a privilege to read her memoir Gypsy Wanderings & Random Reflections.
I wanted to write about the painful journey of a misfit and the fire that rages in her innermost core before it sublimates and she comes out a winner at the other end of the dark tunnel, having overcome her own demons. (p.153)
Perhaps a dozen reasons — an army family narrative with multiple transfers and resultant challenges and their containment with sheer zeal and moral courage and inner strength, an autobiography, an honest as well as a metaphoric account of the author’s life-journey, an alluring depiction of some beautiful Indian cities—Meerut, Dehra Dun, Shillong, an account of her ‘transition from the ugly silkworm to a beautiful butterfly soaring in freedom’, a diary of an Indian woman’s self-exploration and self-discovery, an exemplary woman that champions and celebrates freedom and upholds justice.
Yet one can also enjoy the book for the sheer charms and beauty of Sunil’s captivating words:
One of the servants would light an earthen lamp at the grave every Friday. From the safe distance of our rooms, we watched in fearful fascination, mystified and scared as the lamp flickered, casting eerie and weird shadows. I would imagine white figures in flowing white robes, floating and hovering among the trees. (p. 13)
Or
Read her account of a Sunday Barra Bazaar scene in Shillong:
Imagine our amazement when we saw large tubs of water in the bazaar on the roadside, with live fish about five to six inches in length swimming in it. These are sole life while dried fish to flood the market. Everything from foodstuff, meat, fruits, vegetables, clothes, shoes to jewellery was available here in these quaint narrow lanes. Cars and bikes also drove around amongst the thronging crowds. (p.122)
Her account of Kwai-paan of Khasi, ‘the kwai paan is offered is as a sign of hospitality and a token of friendship…One piece of kwai is as potent as a peg of whiskey’ (p.123) makes her a sort of journalist of merit.
Her account of Kwai-paan of Khasi, ‘the kwai paan is offered is as a sign of hospitality and a token of friendship…One piece of kwai is as potent as a peg of whiskey’ (p.123) makes her a sort of journalist of merit.
One is enticed to leisurely go through the depiction of her scintillating shopping trip to Dhera :
With a heavy breakfast of ‘aloo ka parathas’ tucked in our tummies, we were in time to catch the first bus to town; well covered in long woolen coats and caps, the brisk walks warmed our bodies. Seeing our breath forming little clouds, Bhaji and I made a game of it, but soon got breathless. (p.71)
A particular scene of ‘The Beautiful Valley’ which I like most:
By the roadside under a eucalyptus tree, sat an old cobbler laying his tools on a sack. The three shops, one selling vegetables, the other rations and a bakery, were postage stamp-sized but served the few inhabitants that Clement Town boasted of. Eucalyptus trees grew everywhere and the wind blew gusts of the refreshing aromatic fragrance. (p.74)
I enjoyed her labour of love, life in print! I can touch it, smell it. ‘Random Reflections’ adds an added dimension to the author’s uniquely, a liquid narrative of ‘Gypsy Wanderings.’
It is a cumulative of all the features said earlier. Her prose is consummate, passionate, and lucid. I enjoyed her labour of love, life in print! I can touch it, smell it. ‘Random Reflections’ adds an added dimension to the author’s uniquely, a liquid narrative of ‘Gypsy Wanderings.’ I come to know the finer threads of the author’s die-hard personality as well as her gentle, generous, noble being who can empathise with the underprivileged and who can safely sail to secured shore defeating howling winds and tempestuous storms.
One cannot but be moved by her fantastic portrayal of lively characters, her sense of humour, her imaginative prowess, her storytelling ability, her honesty and sincerity and resourcefulness. It’s a kind of enduring repository of her men and women, the flora and the fauna of multiple Indian beautiful cities she stayed with her family, the diverse weather conditions, and the heterogeneous cultural milieu we boast of. Her resilience to life’s oddities and crudities coupled with her unflinching belief in the self and her keen observation of sights and scenes and their emotional and passionate rendering into neat prose gives her memoir an enduring excellence.
Her resilience to life’s oddities and crudities coupled with her unflinching belief in the self and her keen observation of sights and scenes and their emotional and passionate rendering into neat prose gives her memoir enduring excellence.
The memoir also takes pride in displaying some beautiful family and public photos. The cover is impressive, and the format is a handy one.
Photo sourced by the author
