The Bastard of Istanbul

“Past is anything but bygone”.

Only few know the struggles I had with this book since the last one month. Sure, it started off slow; sure, I had to push through it reluctantly for days; sure, I reissued it maybe 5-6 times; but I cannot hate it anymore now that I've finally completed it.

I love how the the book has predominantly female characters, each with a distinct and quirky personality. I love how their stories intermingle in a painfully striking manner. The book doesn't hit you until you've reached the end. But when it does, you're left with a plethora of thoughts.

The best part about the book is that it made me feel deeply connected to a place I've never visited. But then that's what books do, i suppose - take you to places you've never been and make you yearn for them. On many levels, Istanbul (or Turkey) felt like India - similar family values, rich cuisine, rich heritage, culture and a painful past - delibrately erased, slowly forgotten, but ever present ghost of the past.

Still debating whether it's best to forget what happened, to erase it completely, to have no knowledge of it, or to remember it each daily, to have full knowledge, and re-live the pain or the guilt of the past. Is it better to be ignorant and blissful or knowledgeable and ever suffering?
“Past is anything but bygone”. Only few know the struggles I had with this book since the last one month. Sure, it started off slow; sure, I had to push through it reluctantly for days; sure, I reissued it maybe 5-6 times; but I cannot hate it anymore now that I've finally completed it. I love how the the book has predominantly female characters, each with a distinct and quirky personality. I love how their stories intermingle in a painfully striking manner. The book doesn't hit you until you've reached the end. But when it does, you're left with a plethora of thoughts. The best part about the book is that it made me feel deeply connected to a place I've never visited. But then that's what books do, i suppose - take you to places you've never been and make you yearn for them. On many levels, Istanbul (or Turkey) felt like India - similar family values, rich cuisine, rich heritage, culture and a painful past - deliberately erased, slowly forgotten, but ever present ghost of the past. Still debating whether it's best to forget what happened, to erase it completely, to have no knowledge of it, or to remember it each daily, to have full knowledge, and re-live the pain or the guilt of the past. Is it better to be ignorant and blissful or knowledgeable and ever suffering?