Pink Reverie

Cantan las pajaritas al primer vistazo del sol escarlata. Sale el sol, que da color al cielo, pero sin calentarnos. Es un día bastante normal.

Sin embargo, dentro de mí, no lo es.

Aquel día, en un edificio icónico de una universidad más conocida en este país, me siento en la primera fila con otras nueve personas. Es solo un asiento bastante cómodo, no significa nada especial para mí. Solo realmente significa que soy la alumna con calificación más alta en mi facultad. No es algo tan fascinante, porque una calificación es solo una forma de evaluación, no garantiza algo absoluto el futuro. Poco tiempo ya pasa, y me doy cuenta la profundidad de sentarme allí. Luego, me choca otra realidad, que mi Papá también está, y va a ver su hija recibiendo el honor en el escenario. Tal vez para mí, no significa nada, pero no puedo imaginar que feliz es Papá al verme así.

Aquella realización me lleva a cuatro años antes, y también a ocho años antes, unos momentos similares. Mi Papá estaba, y estaba, callado, pero sabía yo que era tan feliz por dentro. Siempre es un hombre de poca palabra. Sabiendo que está orgulloso de mí es todo lo que necesito. Hasta aquel momento, el día de mi graduación universitaria, el único que puedo hacer por Papá es ser la mejor alumna. Es el menos que puedo regalar al héroe de mi vida. Algo parece trivial, pero tras mirar atrás, sé que no es.

Empiezo a llorar, pensando en cómo sentirá mi Papá. Algo dentro de mi pecho pica, no sé por qué duele tanto. Entre mis lágrimas, susurro mis gracias a Dios, y espero por el bienestar de mi Papá. Nunca he pensado que sentarme allí me pondrá tan emocionante.

Mi asiento aquel día es solo un pedacito de una alegría. Mi camino sigue siendo muy largo, y realmente todo justo comenzó.

Por Papá, por Mamá en el cielo, y por Dios.

What would you do if you started a game for leisure but it eventually put you in peril? Through her first crime novel Ripper, Isabel Allende offers such experience. I recommend this as your time-killer, if you're up for the challenge (don't worry, Allende's unexpected plot won't transpire to you!). 

Here's how it goes down. A teenage detective Amanda Martín—being a daughter of Bob Martín, a homicide detective and Indiana Jackson, a healer in the Holistic Clinic—is obsessed in solving crimes and thus creates a detective game on the internet with some other socially awkward but sharp-minded kids across the globe. In line with her godmother astrologist predicting a bloodbath striking San Francisco, series of unusual death happen periodically, challenging Amanda and the Ripper players to investigate the possible serial murder, unaware of the lurking danger around her and the people she loves. Together with her Ripper fellows, her beloved ones, and the San Francisco police force, Amanda puts the pieces of puzzle together, racing against the ticking clock to save someone she loves.

Being Allende’s first mystery novel, Ripper is fun to read with the captivating details of each character. It does not only focus on following one character’s life, rather, it narrates every character’s back story, enabling the readers to relate to each of them and understand their actions all the while. Although the novel suggests Amanda as the centre of the plot, other characters are told with balanced proportion, as in how Allende narrates Indiana’s love life and serves the detailed story of her love interest. The rich details and shifted centre; sometimes describing the crimes, then following Amanda’s deduction, providing someone’s back story, and telling love story, are craftily used by Allende to build the suspense. Those details matter as the clue, and while you may have your own deduction, it will surprise you how the story is twisted and turned out.

As the novel depicts the life of several characters, it is almost prominent in promoting diversity. The heroine is, like Allende herself, an American of Hispanic descent, which makes the novel is slightly centres among the Hispanic Americans. However, it also involves other Americans of various descent. There is Amanda’s godmother the Serbian Celeste Roko, Indiana’s Japanese co-worker Yumiko Sato, the victim’s family an Ethiopian named Ayani, a Filipino butler named Galang, and some others. They were also of different conditions, in terms of sexual preference, physical intactness, and psychological health. The novel also brings up some religious themes, mentioning all kinds of beliefs without weighing on particular religious view. All those characters of different ethnic and religious backgrounds live in harmony and work together, despite the murder theme the novel depicts. It might be Allende’s attempt to point out the beauty of diversity as well as the actuality of human nature, which in reality exists in her neighbourhood.

While the narrative flow is captivating in detail, it consequently slows down the pace of the plot. The novel is started by a snippet on the suspense, which gives the readers foreshadow to trigger the readers to keep turning the page. It does the trick, though, for without the thought to get there, the readers might be lost in more than the first half of the book. Started off with a gripping criminal scene, the novel proceeds on the expositions, which Allende does well. However, the plot then revolves much around Indiana’s love story, following her love interests Alan Keller and Ryan Miller. At this point, it could be eluding that the book is actually about crime rather than romantic love story. Only at the last chapters does the plot flow faster and it is packed of suspense. In addition, the deconcentrated story, while adding to the richness of the rising action, leads to an ungainly reading experience.

The English translation, translated by Ollie Brock and Frank Wynne from the Spanish El Juego de Ripper, reflects well Allende’s flowing narrative, gripping the readers to the last page. Reading this novel is like reading several at once; crime, romance, war, friendship, and family are packed up inside. With this book, Allende offers a fun and light reading experience on a crime genre. It might be slightly difficult to follow as there are many minor plots, and the rising action takes long to get to the suspense, but it will be paid off when you are at the end of the book. Whether or not you are a crime-mystery fan, Ripper will rip your heart out, in a good way.

Dear pal,

do you remember a little note written on each page of your elementary school’s notebook? “Experience is the best teacher”, it says. You may be well-acquainted to the saying, but does it soak into your head and affect your daily attitude?

Oh, chill, I’m not gonna lecture you. Just sit back, and relax because I’m about to tell you a story.

I have a friend. He is, uh, was such a nice, not to mention, good-looking guy who enchanted everyone around him with his pure innocence. I assumed he was pious as he was raised in a religious family. It was good old days when we hung out, talking about stuff. He told me how his parents were strict of religious rules. Good parents, I thought, but apparently my friend didn’t think so. One day, after a long summer break, he started to show some changes. I rarely saw him on campus, let alone at the mosque. Just that, and distance grew between us. We have less frequent encounter, but I can always find him on social media. To my surprise, he has been posting photos of his daily life, which is, let’s say, hedonistic. Name all that worldly pleasures that come across your mind. Debauchery is close enough. He does that kind of thing now, and he keeps posting about it, proudly.

That’s not it. There’s more.

His parents who are, you know, devout religious, found out about their son. I managed to know that his parents never stop giving him advice, smoothly and in the gentlest way possible, to behave as their religion taught. But you know what the son’s reaction to his parents’ perennial good intention? He posted a long status on his social media, spilling his resentment on them. He wrote about how annoying it was to have such parents, who—he said—dictated him which God to believe in. He questioned why they didn’t give him freedom on choosing his own belief, while it was his—he inserted the f-word here—life. He even threw a remark that even God failed to make him believe in His existence. He closed his short essay by saying that he had to lie and pretend to be a good son for them, in order to be loved and funded. He even admitted that all that he cared was their money.

That status dropped explosive on me. Where has my dear friend gone? The innocent Prince Charming is not so innocent anymore, in fact—as people put—grows stupid. Uh, does the story sound familiar?

I assure you, I’m not talking about Dorian Gray. Forget that Oscar Wilde’s Gothic protagonist, what I told you is a true story. Let’s hope he won’t go as far as Dorian did.

It broke my heart, seriously. He takes his parents for granted, and even looks down on God! That’s loads of arrogance he showed, whereas just a tiny bit of it can destroy whole good deeds. What a shame.

It breaks my heart to see him become an agnostic. It saddens me that he too thinks religious belief is not relevant in today’s modern and advanced world. He thinks holding on conservative religious teaching will get him nowhere, and will only hinder his path in the world full of competitions. I wonder if Kemal Atatürk is his role model :(

Frankly, people are talking about him, judging him based on the established moral value here. You and I, my pal, can do better. Let's learn from him instead of judging him.

Now, I invite you to reflect on this. “Experience is the best teacher”. It doesn’t have to be your own experience, we can also learn from others. That’s even better because we don’t have to actually go through the bitter part. Well, if you are not into religious belief either, make sure we’re still on the same page about morality here. Only then can you take a valuable lesson from the story of my friend.

My wish for you, my dear pal, is that you'll never fall into the same hole my other friend did.

Have a nice day :)

Love, something everyone seeks. A mere common word which is considered powerful. Just a word, which moved Neruda to write his critically acclaimed love poems, eventually led him to be known as one of the greatest poets of the 20th century. Indeed, love is something beautiful as well as powerful, meaningful as well as harmful. In short, it’s a double-edged sword. Only people who know how to wield it can truly find happiness. Otherwise, love will only be a downfall. How to wield it, then?

You know, this subject is tricky. You just can’t help the feeling, head over heels for someone, ready to die for them, only to waking up heartbroken. You can finally stand again, finding someone new, only to be back to square one. You love again. You’re hurt again. You feel like running in a never-ending circle just to find your better half. Then, you start to not believe in love. Oh, despair not. Try to trace back what you did wrong. Clueless? You think you did nothing wrong?

Perhaps, you loved them too much.

What’s with it, you say? Well, first, common sense, fella: everything too much is never good. Let me share to you something precious a friend told me this morning, “If you love someone or something more than you love Allah and His prophets, it’ll never work out.” I’ve heard this many times, but this time it hit me hard. I started to look back, and realised how I’ve been living fancying vain things instead of praying. I might perform my prayers full time, but my time for looking up the vain things I like was more than the time I used to communicate with God.

Is it the case with you too? If yes, we found your problem. The solution is easy, but of course, easier said than done. If you want someone to be your future, get closer to Allah, not to them. If the person you want falls to someone else’s embrace, then surely Allah has a better one, in fact the best, in store for you. The key is to love someone because of Allah. Just let Allah guide you to the right path, believe in Him. If you make Allah your beloved King, for whom you do everything, then you could be united with that someone, even if they are in the other hemisphere of the globe.

I’m no one to tell you this, but heed what I shared to you. Let’s do this the right way, hand in hand, reminding each other to be better. Insha’Allah we’ll build our happy little palace here and in the afterlife :)