Mukutdhariji keeps us posted with his writings, which is reminiscent of one great writer whose fan I have bee. Khushwant Singh.
Why I am reminded is necessary to explain. There are twin reasons. One is that which I adore. The other is that which I detest.
I adore Khudhwant Singh's lucidity. The free flow of language. What amazed me is something that I found even more, rather than just equal or less, lucid. It was the Hindi transcription of his writings, not translation. The two are different. The former carries the spirit, the latter does only mechanical conversion into another format of language.
So this is about lucidity and free flow that attracted. I find same kind of writing virtues in our friend Mukutdhariji, though he also carries with him the other side of Khushwant Singh that I always observed with distaste .
That was about the subjects he chose. Too trivial to be admired. Small is beautiful, one friend said when I once mentioned this in a casual discussion. I agreed and do agree even now, but my concern was a bit different. There were burning issues hanging around. Khushwant Singh seemed totally indifferent, kept talking his way about people he met , admired or otherwise referred to, losing not just sight but also track of the contemporary issues.
My regrets revisit me when I read my enlightened friends of the kind Mukutdhariji is, in distractions of the kind Khushwant Singh might have given them to imbibe.
If the critical part is seems unpalatable, I beg to be excused, but my problem since day one , since writing became part and parcel, is that I can not hold back my reactions, nor can camouflage it while expressing .