Moonstone

 I am not writing anything here. Not because I don't have anything to say. But because, I don't have anything coherent to say. Or of importance.

As I am drowning in a stream of streaming platforms. And struggling to complete one book I have been reading for the past two months. 

The Moonstone - it is a detective story alright. But the narration and the style is more of proper literature. Let me stress again, I have nothing against detective stories - those were my stepping stones into English literature. But I wish to believe that I have grown beyond them. 

This book by Wilkie Collins is whodunnit story. But no, not murder. (so far at least). Who stole the moonstone - the huge, dazzling egg sized diamond from India, which is supposed to value around 20,000 pounds? On the day, our heroine Rachel got it as an inheritance on her 18th birthday?

The Sergent who was called in to investigate the case, couldn't solve it. Nor did the his higher officer. 

Where did it go? Is its' disappearance in any way related to three Indian jugglers who were seen rambling around? What role did the maid servant Rosanna had to play in all this? Did she take here own life out of shame and guilt? 

No, I don't have an answer. As I am still reading and listening and reading in yet another device. 

In other news, I have this app which sends me one verse from Bhagavatgita every day. Read it for a few days. Also another app, which sends me one Hindi poem each day. Yesterday's poem was by Kabir. And I did not understand one word of it. But it is fancier to read poetry, than crime thrillers, isn't it? 

Who wants to join a walking challenge for March? (Download and install any steps/walking app) Whether we win it or not, the fun is in the journey!