Diary a Feminist: Stranger Than Fiction

There is something eerie in the air these days. Else, why would you come ac­ross so many strange news? Events which are bizarre. Which defy reason. Which evoke a whirlpool of thoughts, a phantasmagoria of feelings.

There is something op­pressive. Absurd.

I remember when I read Kafka’s The Trial. Quite a few years back. I had heard it was great. And I knew a bit about Kafka’s standing in philosophical literature. But that was all.

I had this approach (and still have, to some extent) toward books: I read be­cause I just loved to read, loved to know, and not be­cause I was out to discover hidden meanings. Or truths, or philosophies, or some kind of enlightenment.

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