DREAMS FROM MY FATHER- a review

so the book is finally over.It took me relatively longer time. This is so primarily because of my intermittent nature of study these days. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant experience. Both Obama's story and the manner in which he has narrated it are poignant. His reflections and revelations, ideas and convictions, observations and experiences make for an interesting study. Yet, it must be said, the book might not have been as captivating as it turned out to be, had it not been for the fact that the author is now the US president. This single fact provides the single most important relevance to the book. Hence, when one reads about his critique of runaway consumerism in New york and its slavish imitation in Djakarta and Nairobi, one can't help but wonder and be amused at the contradiction as now he ,himself, is at the helm of affairs in a country which is considered to be the epitome of free-market economy and its concomitant consumerism.His principled opposition to the aid-politics and dependency syndrome in the Thirld world  and  his not so thinly veiled contempt for the unholy alliance in which big companies from rich countries use pliant governments in poor countries to extract maximum economic benefits make one question, at least one's own self, how did this man manage to become the president of US. The stories of his vast travels which took him from Hawai to Indonesia, India, Kenya and even Karachi reassure the reader that finally White House has the occupant whose exposure is vast and varied and who knows better. Not only does Obama come across as a well-read man, his study is diverse too. It is not restricted to one version-the victor's version-alone. He knows about different perspectives.His understanding of colonialism, its effects and aftermath appears to be particularly keen. He knows exactly how the person in the thirld world country thinks and how he views the U.S. This is a far cry from the usual "white" presidency or the general U.S public, both of which show remarkable sense of ignorance about the "other" parts of the world. As for the personal story of Obama, being black in america and its many consequent personal insults and collective pain do not make him bitter. He abhors blind nationalism, crying conspiracy or playing victim. He takes up his share of responsibility and he works. True, he too had his moments of doubts and weaknesses.Still, he never gave himself up to any parochial prejudices. It was an act of walking on a tight rope which he found himself doing constantly.  Without being seen as someone who is co-opted and without being labelled as disloyal to his community, Obama wanted to believe in the inherent goodness of all human beings and not let his world get compartmentalized in the black and the white. Despite his foregoing belief in common humanity, Obama remained alive to the fact that he was black after all and can be seen constantly reminding himself about his responsibility towards the black community, be it via community organizing or Law.

The book also makes it abundantly clear that the man was not born with a silver spoon. Obama has experienced poverty first-hand. He has spent a night without a shelter in New york and on a cramped cot in Kenya. He has travelled in cramped vehicles and ,at times, while standing most of the way with his head stooped due to low roof bus.

Obama's language in the book is quite rhythmic for the most part. However, a few paragraphs leave much to be desired. The length of the book too could have been reduced by a quarter. At times it does give reader an impression of a drag. Nevertheless, the book manages to hold  interest of the reader till the very end. The highlights of the book are Obama's reflections, monologues, the big questions he asks himself and the last few lines of every chapter. The book can be adapted into a movie, since it is written with such a detail of all the sights and sounds and smells.

Overall, the book is a good read and if nothing else, it will at least help you get a better understanding of arguably the most important man in the world right now.  

Looking back....

I have been reading Obama's "Dreams from my father". It is an interesting book and is having a strange effect on me. I have only read a first few pages and am already thinking about my own past, my childhood, teenage, and adolescence which , in my case, spans over university and library life. I suddenly realise the importance of remembering the past and of recording it. In the hustle and bustle of everyday life and in our exuberance to keep pace with it and in our notion of 'living in the moment', we tend to undervalue our past, if not completely disregard it. We consider reminiscence a distraction at best and an utter waste of time at worst. However, past holds many things, some flattering and not so flattering, some bring smile and even laughter, others embarrassment, relief and lots of 'if'- 'would that'-'wish'

In my case, it is equally true. I spent first eighteen years of my life at Larkana and it seems as if it was long time ago. I never looked back. Every now and then, my conversations with my mother did wander off to the not-so-distant shores of Larkana but never quite enough. I got so unnecessarily busy and absorbed 'in the moment' that Larkana and its people, my childhood friends and neighbours rarely occurred to me, barring a few moments, a few phone calls, two fleeting visits and one glance at my school. This is so despite the fact that the time spent at Larkana was so fulfilling and enriching. Here in Karachi, the phase of university life which spanned over four years ended and I did not look back yet again. However, it is not all that unusual. Life after university, and outside university, is like this. It does not give you an opportunity to sit under a tree, catch some breath, look back and reminisce good old campus days. The jostling begins. The naivety of your youthful dreams, claims and aspirations begins to dawn on you. The limits to what you can actually achieve begin to become clearer. It is not that simple, after all. You are not that special , after all. You do pick up a few successes along the way but they do not come without your share of failures too, both personal and professional. This post-university phase of life saw me seated behind a carrel no. 25 at DCL, Karachi. Dickens says, " it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us." Such were the two years spent at Library and , although everything hinges on the result, it looks like the phase of library is coming to an end and so is my blog. In short, it is important, at times, to remember past, if not to learn lessons and to see what we could have done differently then to just savour the memories and to appreciate the years and the life we have spent and,more importantly, to come to terms with it....