ISBN 0-316-76948-7

Ever been in between things. I am, sort of. Like all in-between things you know, all of 'eM (hehe) , all pouring down as hell, all at the same time. So there I am in between relationship, naah, more like kicked out of one, in between jobs naah more like out of one, in between cities naah more like out of one. You get the point. No!!
Its like before the storm you know, the lull, sort of.

Yes, Yes!! “eM Salinger” (due apologies Mr. JD Salinger) had bitten me, but the poisons spreading now, slowly, sort of.

I think I just over did the Salinger bit, “sort of”. hehe!!

This is fun n all. hehehe!!

So this is it. I am finally with the Rye. Had heard of it now and then, whispers you know. Slowly turning into a murmur, then chatter and now slowly yet surely soaring into a crescendo. Until the ears burst, proverbially, sort of.

They have all read it, Janta Janardhan of the blog word. All pseudo intellectuals types. Not all, maybe not Jabber. He's been like that since the beginning. I think.

But then she said she did too, eM did. So that’s why I put all of two hundred and fifty eight rupees into the cashier’s hand. Not for any love of Salinger, nor for any higher purpose. Its was purely out of sheer unadulterated Peer Pressure (PP).

Like all of us in those days were - “Peer Pressure Prone” (PPP).

We even had an index. “PPP – Index”. “P-pex”, if you will. (now a days they have even made it a virtue. It’s probably related to the alpha male personality syndrome. Sorry its an all male exclusive dominion only. All alpha types females are termed man-eaters, or more denigrating terms. Terms I, innocent ’n all, cant even being to bear to type )

You could be like 9.98(and that’s very high) on the P-pex, like KC or Poojari. Or You could be like robot, 1.5 and all. But each one of us had a P-pex. So do I. Sevenish types. No. You disagree. Ok Ok I'll increase it, by leaps and bounds. 7.3. happy!!!

The Catcher I guess is like some kind of an open secret, to an exclusive club, of intellectuals. Having read it is no guarantee of immediate acceptance. But you have to read it to avoid rejection. Its some kind of an elimination threshold. Not an acceptance criteria mind you. A rejection barrier of sorts, "the catcher" is, you know.

Had been obsessing about it, the whole day. So when I finally did escape, it was pouring, ok ok it was a little more than dripping, but it did seem to me like a conspiring universe
preventing me from committing the misdemeanor ("discerning" readers would almost immeditaely recognize the allusion to Paulo uncle ...which uncle of ours you ask? ... its me trying to be funny an all. You Disagree....Sod off!!! )

So there I was at Landmark, finally, looking at Salinger’s opus. The first thing that strikes you about the Catcher is that its cover is absolutely blank. Like you're mind is now, perhaps. Maybe!! No?

Not a shred of letter extolling how it changed the intellectual landscape of the world, being modest, very very modest in a very vain way, sort of. Like I saw this video of Jack Welch once, meeting every body in the room saying, "Hi! I am Jack!! " Was he crazy. Every Body knows Jack Welch. See totally vain. Me thinks.

And then with trepidation I read the first few pages. Oh boy. Boy oh boy oh BOY!! What a treat. Salinger wrote like eM did, at least in the opening lines of this confession. And I thought that was very, very funny. In a very cute sort of way. And I had this stupid grin all the while reading her first two lines.

Salinger’s opus in the first few pages has been like those opening lines, funny, like a tickle on the stomach, the kinds that doesn’t make you snort out loud, but the kinds that puts a grin on your face that you can’t let go.

Yes sirr this is going to be one hell of book. Me thinks!!
Some good might come out of reading the confessions after all. In a very, very ironical way, sort of ;-)