A Memoir

I am an English Literature graduate but I hate declaring it to people who ask reason being I threw my three years in campus not focusing on my studies. So much so that I probably missed out in acquiring the kind of knowledge a person with a literature degree ought to have. I studied literature because it was the only way I could get into a local university since I did badly in my STPM and my results proved that I was not good enough to study any other course. I could have done better for my degree but I did not, thus making myself unworthy to be called a literature graduate.

Though I studied literature, I never understood why Shakespeare deserved to be rated above the other literary writers. I found his works to be over flowery so much so that sometimes I wish he had just gotten straight to the point but of course that would mean that his works would be extremely short. I found delight in Asian literature, perhaps it was because I could relate better, to be able to feel with the author. The very first book that left an impact in me was “The Untouchable” by the very unpopular Mulk Raj Anand whose books cannot be found anywhere in Malaysia. I fell in love with the book immediately after reading it and craved to read of his other works but unfortunately, that was probably the only book he ever wrote. I diverted my interest to R.K Narayan after that. He is a little bit more popular than Mr. Anand but not popular enough to be a superstar author like Mr. V.S Naipul.

I had the outmost respect for R.K Narayan, I thought he wrote his works with great wisdom. Today, I read his memoir, a personal narration of his life, I was left speechless. Our friend was a son of a school headmaster with a bright future ahead of him but he took the road less traveled. He struggled through his school years, not that he could not cope with it, he was just not interested, eventually he abandoned school. For a few years, he was jobless. He had many job offers but he walked out of those jobs because they were not exciting enough. He fed on his parents money as an adult with no proper income to sustain himself what more to help his family who was struggling financially. Yes, he was easily seen as the ‘good for nothing’ son. He remained stubborn, and selfish. He was conscious that he was living like a parasite but he did not care much, he spent his days writing even thought no publisher accepted his works and he continued living that way for many years even after he got married. He became a free lance writer who wrote for newspapers and magazines with no stable income. After many years of perseverance, he eventually managed to write something which the publishers thought was worthy enough to be published the book was called ‘Swami and Friends’ and there was no turning back after that.

As I read his memoir, I related my current life with R.K’s life. I see myself at the present as a parasite, jobless and living off my sister’s expenses. I don’t want to be like R.K, I want to pursue my dreams in a more noble manner, I want to be of use to society even as I begin my journey to pursue my dreams. R.K has given me hope that success is a possibility as long as we don’t loose sight of our dreams.

My passion is cooking, my dream is to bring joy to people through their stomach yet part of me remains dissatisfied that I actually wasted three years of my university days not achieving what I should have. I am very tempted to…….I shan’t continue, just in case critics begin to throw their knifes at me for being so fickle minded.