Book Review: When A Diary Feels Like Scripture, And A Flower Teaches You To Wait
The Master of Unfinished Things: Anita Gopalan's translation of Geet Chaturvedi's 'Adhoori Cheezon Ka Devta', is a blend of memoir, essay, and allegory. The book invites introspection.
In one of his editorials, respected Hindi writer and editor of the prestigious literary magazine, Pahal, Gyanranjan wrote of Geet Chaturvedi: "His style bears the delicate etching of words and the fragrance of poetry even in prose." This line, seemingly too perfect, finds its truth when you read 'The Master of Unfinished Things', the English translation of 'Adhoori Cheezon Ka Devta'. You realise how rarely a sentence is both true and beautiful.
Anita Gopalan’s translation is luminous. It renders the lyrical cadences and meditative poise of Geet Chaturvedi’s prose with a grace that feels at once faithful and startlingly fresh. Geet speaks of life’s tremors, love, memory, time, not to solve them, but to observe them with tenderness. His prose does not demand reverence; it exists quietly, curiously, complete in its incompleteness.
A Book Without Borders
This book is a fluid fusion of memoir, aphorism, essay, and allegory, effortlessly blending these forms so that the boundaries between them become inconsequential. Genres don’t disappear, but in the gentle flow of thought, they cease to matter. The tone is quietly playful, inviting reflection without ever seeming frivolous, while the form remains porous, allowing ideas and emotions to spill over into one another. The self, fragmented and scattered throughout, still holds a mysterious order, much like a room filled with books that have been read, lived with, and cherished.
In these pages, time and space collapse as Kalidasa’s poetry mingles with Kafka’s existential musings, Karvi flowers bloom alongside Greek myths, and Proust’s introspective overcoat brushes against Buddha’s meditative silences. Reading this book is not just an intellectual experience, it’s like stepping into a room that feels both familiar and profoundly intimate, as though it has been waiting for you all along, ready to embrace you with its quiet wisdom.
The much-loved author Geet Chaturvedi’s tender introspection is a gift for all who are willing to listen, reflect, and understand.
Between The Poet And The Essayist
For those familiar with Geet Chaturvedi’s poetry, his prose offers no shock, it sings with the same lyrical cadence, yet it also ventures deeper into the realms of thought and reflection. In Cat Years, a seemingly simple childhood memory of a cat named Nooru gradually unravels into a profound meditation on the nature of love and affection. The cat’s gift of scratches becomes a metaphor for the love, raw, unspoken, and often painful. This quiet theology of love lingers long after the essay ends.
In another piece, focused on Bhujang Meshram, the essay shifts from mere portraiture to an exploration of the narrator’s own evolution. We witness the interplay of poetry, debates, and youthful mischief, showing how deeply our friendships shape us. Chaturvedi doesn’t place his friend on a pedestal; rather, he allows for a gentle, intimate recognition of the shared journey. Through his prose, we see not just the subject, but also the self, shaped and redefined in the light of friendship and experience.
Paradox Of Wholeness In What Remains Unfinished
In The Master of Unfinished Things, Geet Chaturvedi explores a profound paradox: there are things that, despite remaining unfinished, radiate a sense of wholeness. And then there are those that seem whole yet leave us with an underlying emptiness, a quiet ache. This tension between completeness and incompleteness is the very essence of the book.
It’s not merely a collection of essays; it is an intricate, multidimensional exploration of memory, intellect, emotion, and self-reflection. Geet Chaturvedi, with influences from literary giants like Dante, Márquez, Rilke, Borges, Kafka, and Vinod Kumar Shukla, transforms every subject into a portal of thought. Each essay becomes a room in which you linger, feeling the weight of unfinished reflections, yet sensing a profound sense of wholeness.
This is writing that doesn't seek to resolve, but instead, invites you into the delicate beauty of uncertainty, where incompleteness itself feels whole.
The Karvi That Waits
Among the many essays in The Master of Unfinished Things, one that stands out for its quiet resonance is “Karvi Flowers". The Karvi, which blooms only once in several years, is a powerful metaphor for all that requires time to grow, whether it’s love, understanding, or a life-changing experience. The Karvi blooms slowly, often unnoticed, enduring harsh conditions, yet it stands tall with remarkable strength.
The image of a flower that persists, even when trampled, symbolises resilience in the face of adversity. Geet’s words don’t aim to impress; they don’t seek grandeur or spectacle. Instead, they offer solace, urging us to find strength in the process of waiting and growing, even when the results are unseen.
This essay invites us to worship the quiet perseverance of the Karvi flower, not for the spectacle of its bloom, but for its ability to endure in silence and patience, reflecting the quiet but profound journey of life itself.
The Diary As A Secret Gospel
Midway through the book, the diary entries arrive like sudden telegrams from the subconscious, brief, piercing, and impossible to ignore. Some feel like quiet reflections, others like raw wounds left open to air. Chaturvedi writes about love not as grand declarations but as subtle truths: how it reveals itself in imagined conversations even in someone’s absence, or in the quiet act of holding back tears, not from strength, but from a desire to protect fragile shoulders nearby. Even letting go, or welcoming someone back, becomes an expression of love.
These thoughts don’t come across as sentimental, they feel like x-rays, exposing the quiet, often overlooked corners of the human heart. In his prose, the emotional and the literary aren’t separate, they breathe together, turning each page into a mirror where one pauses, recognizes something unspoken, and feels the ache.
Where Prose Breathes Like Poetry
The book’s greatest virtue lies in its language, cultivated yet unpretentious, reflective without being cold. The poet within Geet Chaturvedi is ever-present, not in flamboyant metaphor, but in quiet clarity that speaks volumes. One reads lines where love is what sets us free, time is what murders us, and mirrors become spies sent by God, each thought soaked in a lucid melancholy where philosophy wears the fragrance of poetry. The prose flows with a gentle grace, allowing readers to breathe within its rhythm, feeling as though every sentence is both a question and an answer.
This is not a book one merely reads; it is a book one lives with, slowly, like a long evening that passes unnoticed until you realise how much of it you’ve absorbed. It leaves you more alone, but more whole in your aloneness, offering the kind of solitude that nurtures rather than empties.
While reading, you feel the book ‘The Master of Unfinished Things’ becomes a silent companion, one you return to in moments of quiet reflection, finding something new with every encounter. A perfect companion for those who believe that the unfinished, too, can be sacred, and that within incompleteness lies an extraordinary kind of wholeness.
Book: The Master of Unfinished Things
Author: Geet Chaturvedi
Translated by: Anita Gopalan
Published by: Penguin
Price: Rs 399
Ashutosh Kumar Thakur is a Bangalore-based management professional, literary critic, and festival curator.
[Disclaimer: The opinions, beliefs, and views expressed by the various authors and forum participants on this website are personal and do not reflect the opinions, beliefs, and views of ABP News Network Pvt Ltd.]
Top Headlines
