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Wisdom Revolution #2
The Oldest Dance
As one of the war heroes searches the oldest language in the ancient art of dance, he might discover the Intuitionist's power of finding answers to any questions.
Missing memories might pile up if you encounter the Mesmerizer who stopped World War III with a four-minute speech, especially if he asks you to forget. Even if it’s the one and only purpose you have, you will forget it. For he has the voice.
Kusha forgot what she found on the night of the High Auction.
But the laws of the universe are painfully fair sometimes. Purpose always calls you, either through your dreams, or daydreams, even in nightmares … perhaps, through intuition?
So the Intuitionist, Kusha, runs through the questions the universe throws at her. Each question leads her to her purpose. Her life as an unevolved, Ungraded citizen seems rich compared to those of her friends outside the walls who aren't even citizens. She wants to help her friends, but her questions, her past, her missing memories lead her to myths she never should tangle with. Most importantly, she never should encounter the war heroes who seek the Source among the devil’s scriptures and an old form of dance. Not when the dance calls her in dreams after what happened on the night of the auction.
Welcome to Episode 2 of Wisdom Revolution.
Missing memories might pile up if you encounter the Mesmerizer who stopped World War III with a four-minute speech, especially if he asks you to forget. Even if it’s the one and only purpose you have, you will forget it. For he has the voice.
Kusha forgot what she found on the night of the High Auction.
But the laws of the universe are painfully fair sometimes. Purpose always calls you, either through your dreams, or daydreams, even in nightmares … perhaps, through intuition?
So the Intuitionist, Kusha, runs through the questions the universe throws at her. Each question leads her to her purpose. Her life as an unevolved, Ungraded citizen seems rich compared to those of her friends outside the walls who aren't even citizens. She wants to help her friends, but her questions, her past, her missing memories lead her to myths she never should tangle with. Most importantly, she never should encounter the war heroes who seek the Source among the devil’s scriptures and an old form of dance. Not when the dance calls her in dreams after what happened on the night of the auction.
Welcome to Episode 2 of Wisdom Revolution.
252 pages, Hardcover
First published September 19, 2021
About the author
Misba
7 books1,873 followersI could write a bio here--long or short. You won't know me still. Not in the way you could if you read things I wrote. But you can start here--from some of my articles. As for the books, Wisdom Revolution is out there.
Article links in Patreon:
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https://www.patreon.com/posts/96800944
Article links in Patreon:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/87969455
https://www.patreon.com/posts/what-is...
https://www.patreon.com/posts/96800944
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November 15, 2021
1. The Archaeologist
IT’S A LAUGHABLE LOCK—ONE that you would use only to guard a graveyard. Not that anyone would trouble themselves invading a timber hut in a mangrove forest farther away from the Bay of Bengal. Still, how can someone live with a lock like that? Made of ancient iron, reeking of rust. It would need a primordial key to be twisted and turned, going through several moments of mechanical trouble until the old lock opens. Good luck if you can do that without breaking the key.
Oh! The key … Well, the owner of the hut has left the key right beside the lock, including instructions. The Monk, Yuan Yagmur—revealing his muscled arms from under his wide, dark shawl—takes the note (the one with instructions):
Please, scan your CRAB first before touching the key. For your own safety.
From what, you ask? It’s a surprise.
Enter without scanning if you want to find out.
—Mee-Hae Ra
Scan? Or not scan? The Monk wonders, but soon, he decides to follow the instruction. He takes his CRAB to the scanner as any modest monk would do. Though, it itches him to find out what trap that woman has set in such a shabby cottage. Could even be some prehistoric tricks with wooden logs flying like pendulums or spikes under the moving floor. Perhaps a net—used to catch monkeys?
With those sorts of traps, the cottage would break for sure. But who knows? For a woman, who once was a yearning of the Mesmerizer, anything is possible.
When he finishes scanning the CRAB in his wrist, a text appears in old-style, green fonts:
YOU’RE ‘STILL’ WELCOME!
The Monk takes the key and inserts it into the lock carefully, hoping neither the key nor the lock will break. Of course, he does the methodical twists and turns with mechanical precision, winning through the rust until he opens the almost broken door like the gentle monk he is. The door shrieks.
How does she live here alone? He wonders, forgetting that he, too, used to live in such a hut once, until a certain mesmerizer designed an entire mansion for him. However, Mee-Hae Ra isn’t a monk. She’s never been one.
The Monk enters the wooden house. His geta sandals tapping the floor: Pit-pat … pit-pat …
The lights glow, sensing a human presence. “Welcome home!” a high-pitched, familiar female voice says from a speaker made with old-fashioned magnetic functions instead of a quantum sound-wave carrier. The inside of the house isn’t as shabby as the outside. If his first impression weren’t ninety percent pre-constructed by the entrance, he would think that it was a nice, comfortable place to live in. A place deep inside a forest where Royal Bengal Tigers have increased their numbers after the Apocalypse befell humans.
The Monk senses no human prana anywhere. No one is home. To think she’s living so close to that man, right near the south of Alpha, while he has been exploring the entire earth, searching for her just the last week. Not everyone has flawless intuition, do they?
He glances around. Things look familiar: the high shelves full of books, jars of green tea, dried flowers—also for tea, big rocks, and crystals that emit strong prana and light. The light trapped inside the crystals makes them brighter, stunning against the dark background of the wooden floor and ceiling. A splendid collection of tea and rocks and books by a seventy-year-old archaeologist, yes, but that sofa is a literary hell!
Books open, socks unwashed, cornflakes and chips scattered, undergarments with 34D tags faded—no, they are not washed either. Standing seven feet away, the Monk, with his evolved nose, smells what a woman should smell like around the breastbone that protects a woman’s heart.
Before the unwashed, pink and grey briefs can reveal any signs of masturbation, Yuan Yagmur looks away like the perfect, gentle monk who hasn’t touched a woman, at least, not in that way. And, no. He’s not blushing. What monk would blush, witnessing something so human, something as normal as eating or shitting? So, he looks around, as indifferent as he is to most things.
The largest wall in the living room is full of framed photos, depicting stories of war, peace, friendship, and love—everything in the last six decades displayed on a single wall. He feels a tiny spark of emotion, seeing his own photo here, right in the middle of the war and the friendship zone—if there’s any zoning at all among the chaotically placed frames, that is.
And there rests him—the Mesmerizer, frozen in one of his rarest smiles, right beside Mee-Hae. His hair is a darker shade of blond in the photos, as it was back then, and his eyes blue like the clearest sky. His never-aging arm is wrapped around Mee-Hae’s waist until his palm touches her swollen belly. The Monk remembers taking this shot himself. Sometimes, he wonders if it’s his fault that that man lost his last threads of humanity.
The Monk turns towards the entrance of the hut. Something approaches from the forest. Footsteps. They stiffen a little, tense and alert. Whoever is coming has sensed his presence. It’s her. She’s closer now, climbing the wooden stairs cautiously one by one and releasing her tension as she checks the entry log.
The door screams open.
“Yuan?” calls one of the most influential archaeologists of the planet and also the owner of this half-broken hut.
Mee-Hae Ra.
Pointy face, angled eyes; skin warmed after years of living in the south; blue T-shirt, jean shorts, and CRAB in her left wrist. Nothing has changed, except the short, dark-red hair—it was black during the war. “Nice hair, Ra,” the Monk mutters.
Approaching, Mee-Hae stops a foot away from him, who is wrapped in his decades-old, dark shawl that should be torn and faded by now, but it isn’t, thanks to the technology that repairs one molecule at a time (if you have the budget for it).
Mee-Hae finally jumps to him, wrapping her arms around his neck; her feet leave the floor. “Your shawl smells the same.”
“And you don’t feel well.” The Monk touches her shoulder, tracing her body with his palm. It rests at the back of her waist.
“Stop scanning me.” Mee-Hae releases him. “Your hair is greying. Is it a new fashion? And what’s with the laugh lines?”
“Pico says I look younger than last month,” the Monk mutters, averting his gaze from the wall of photos, not wanting to talk about a particular mesmerizer.
“I’m guessing something happened?” Mee-Hae says, busying herself with make-the-sofa-sittable and turn-the-room-walkable for a sudden guest.
The Monk avoids the question. He brings out a small package of tea—procured from the Himalayas with difficulty. He puts it on the desk that Mee-Hae has just cleaned. “You talked about some stones you found a while ago,” he says.
“Three years.” Mee-Hae quickly turns around to face him, holding her unwashed panties. From this close, they smell prominently feminine to the Monk’s highly evolved nose. Mee-Hae Ra throws them with her faultless aim to a basket twenty feet away; she’ll have to wash them in the river later. “Your a while ago is actually three years,” she says. “You didn’t pay attention then. I wonder what happened? You even brought the rarest tea on the planet!” She throws a piercing gaze at him. Her pouty lips make her look angry. Abandoning her cleaning, she approaches the balcony, holding the tea package.
“It looks hand-procured,” she mutters. “By any chance, did you pluck it yourself?” She looks at the Monk and already gets the answer that a modest monk won’t provide.
The Monk follows and breathes in the green mangrove forest. The balcony entrance is open from the outside. “You keep an ancient lock with a scanner while the balcony is open?” he asks.
“Who will steal from an archeologist who gets no gold and camps temporarily in a forest?” Mee-Hae replies.
“Ten years doesn’t sound temporary.”
“Ten years is a blink for a seventy-year-old High Grade,” Mee-Hae says. “But you’re avoiding my question, Yagmur. Don’t think I didn’t notice.” She rolls her eyes as she says the Monk’s last name.
The Monk looks warmly at her. “I wasn’t interested in it then.”
“Now you’re interested? After three years? No wonder you even found me here!” says Mee-Hae. “I’m sure I was harder to find than the tea I’m holding.”
The Monk smiles in response.
“You’re after secrets, aren’t you? Just like him,” Mee-Hae says.
“Why do you have his photos?” the Monk finally asks, even though he wanted to avoid talking about the Mesmerizer, at least, with her, yet he asks, more out of worry than curiosity.
“I thought a Monk with no emotions would understand.”
“No emotions? That hurt!” The Monk widens his eyes. “That proves I do have emotions, just not the unnecessary ones.”
“What’s unnecessary? A partner on bed?” Mee-Hae now looks at his face, probably to find out if he’s still a loner in his Lotus Lodge. It takes only a second to find the answer she seeks. She shakes her head in denial.
“Now, you are avoiding my question.” The Monk looks into the forest, a few deer with dark spots peeking through the trees.
“I just don’t care enough, Yuan. Let’s say, throwing away the photos or keeping them means the same to me. I’m busy with something more meaningful, and I don’t have time to think about what I should throw out or not,” Mee-Hae says.
“You mentioned prehistoric civilizations in your last … well, three-year-old email.” The Monk changes the topic. No one cares about the past. To a High Grade who has lived long enough, the past is just a tiny pixel in a large, high-resolution canvas. “You said they got destroyed mysteriously,” he says.
“It’s not a mystery anymore. I found proof, and WSI shut down the research. A few Silver Agents came and took my stones. They didn’t even bring me some tea as a courtesy when they came,” says Mee-Hae, frowning, probably at the thought of the World Security Intelligence. Everyone hates them.
“What stones?” the Monk asks while browsing her bookshelf.
“Evidence of radioactive rain destroying a city seventy thousand years ago,” Mee-Hae replies, frowning.
“A city? Seventy thousand years ago, you say?”
“Rewrites history, huh?” Mee-Hae gazes at him. The sparkles in her eyes are those of an archaeologist who is living in a forest near her latest discovered underwater civilization. “The last Ice Age was supposed to be twelve thousand years ago.”
“What do you believe, Ra? I’ll believe whatever you say.” The Monk turns at her, his complete attention now at her eyes.
Mee-Hae doesn’t reply for a long time. A High Grade’s words have weight; she must now think through what leaves her lips. “There are signs of war. The radioactive rain wasn’t natural. I believe they were annihilated.” Mee-Hae utters annihilated so carefully as if someone might hear, as if it’s a cautiously chosen word and not spoken as a part of a casual description. The fewer words you say, the more chance they have of being general, that is, both true and false. After all, the devil lies in the details.
“War?” The Monk frowns—almost, noticing how vaguely the Archeologist crafted her answer, for he said he’d believe it blindly.
“I know what war looks like, Yuan.” Mee-Hae gazes into the forest from the balcony. Her palm traces her lower belly where her womb should be, and her face creases as if she is in physical pain.
“They took my stone samples,” she says. “They said those were under the jurisdiction of WSI. Sometimes, I wonder if he is behind it, too. Or maybe I’m thinking too much.” Her voice drones as her thoughts drift to a certain mesmerizer.
“It’s not him,” the Monk says in a determined voice.
“Because he never hides knowledge?”
“Because he’s busy seeking knowledge,” the Monk says.
“Oh, yes, busy was the word. Always.” Mee-Hae nods. “I remember how much scared he was of not having enough time for all he wanted to do, for all he wanted to … achieve.” After several more moments of gazing at nothing in particular into the forest, she suddenly faces the Monk. “I want answers, Yuan,” she says.
“Come to Lotus Lodge. I’m getting a team together.”
“Who else?” Mee-Hae asks.
“You first.”
“Let me guess, you want me to call the others.”
“I sent them emails,” says the Monk.
“Just answer a question, Yuan. Did he put you onto this?”
The Monk stares, not hiding that he wanted to avoid answering this question. “He tried to make me work. With him,” he says truthfully, just as a war hero, the owner of a strong voice, should.
“You are wrong, Yuan,” Mee-Hae says, half-worried and half-angry, her voice suddenly quivering. “He wanted to make you work. With or without him.”
“I have to stop him,” the Monk says.
“Am I the bait?”
The Monk looks at Mee-Hae. He never wants to answer it if he doesn’t need to. So, this time, he visibly avoids her question. “You’re still depending on healing pills?” he says in questioning tone.
And Mee-Hae, like the perfect, gentle, and understanding woman from contemporary books of the Old World, lets the Monk avoid her crucial question. The question she should never have overlooked. The question even the Monk will regret not answering right now, right here, not only for her sake but also for his own.
“Don’t worry about my pills. It’s common in this era. Thoughts are powerful,” Mee-Hae whispers in response.
“Just cut the negative ones,” the Monk says, watching her face, the suffering clear in her eyes. He approaches enough to put his palm on the back of her waist. Her waist is too warm. He closes his eyes, focusing inside of her, his palm becoming one with her body.
In an instant, her muscles, her blood, thousands of lymph vessels, including the inner wounds around her womb, become visible, sensible—not in the way you see with your eyes, but the way you see the things in a book.
The Monk watches her womb bleeding internally because of her creative mind that is so strong that it turns her imagination into reality. Even though her strong prana heals it at the same rate, constant damage and regeneration is happening inside her. And much of her energy gets drained in cell-building, in self-healing.
The Monk focuses his prana, passing it into her body, making the healing faster a little. “You need to control your thoughts, Ra.”
“Don’t heal me, Yuan. I need to learn to live on my own,” Mee-Hae mutters, but she doesn’t push his hand away. She hasn’t felt this pain-free for so long … she just wants to enjoy this for a moment or two longer.
“My nightmares are out of control. The thoughts during my dreams,” Mee-Hae says, leaning against his chest.
The Monk frowns. He remembers the thirty-seven beasts in his forest that turned stone-hard and dead. They marked him for something. Some sort of ritual—dark ritual, for no ritual of the light would involve death.
It’s too dangerous for her to step into this. Is he making a mistake bringing her? What if that monster harms her? He saw what that man has become in their recent meeting. Guilt overwhelms him. But Yuan Yagmur soon buries his guilt like a well-trained monk. Emotions won���t defeat him. Not ever.
The key to conquering emotions isn’t in not feeling them. Rather in catching them the instant they appear. “Mastering emotions starts with observation,” their master used to say.
Their master, and not his.
“But if you are really looking for it,” Mee-Hae releases him from the light embrace, “will you read the Devil’s Book?”
A herd of deer catches the Monk’s attention. They are running. He senses the fear in them. Soon, the largest cat in this forest takes one of them: it runs, grabs a neck, halts, and mauls; then it kills. A predator wins. Always.
The herd of deer accepts it. Mourning a while, they go back to grazing. Perhaps they even think, this time too, it wasn’t me. Not yet.
The Monk remembers what he told the Mesmerizer. That he won’t step into the evil. That he won’t read the Devil’s Book.
He will never let that predator win. Never.
Amazon link THE OLDEST DANCE: https://www.amazon.com/dp/9843508238
Amazon link THE HIGH AUCTION: https://www.amazon.com/dp/9843506596
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April 4, 2024You will never have a voice that deserves to speak if you have a mind full of filthy bigotry and misogyny. If you still live in a world where you let your women to be the slaves at your home, if you still live in where you shout at your women to cover their bodies because you just can't fight the oppressors, if you can't have a conversation with women without being a dumb from Stone Age living in the caves, if whenever you open your mouth it's only garbage coming out and it shows that it's full of dung planted by your parents and your society, then, yes, you do not deserve to speak. You do not deserve to speak anywhere at all. It's 2022, and here, you get to speak only if you talk about changes in your society. You get to speak only if the women around you supports your voice, your words. If the woman at your own home can't respect you, no one in the world will respect you. If you can't make the ones in your own home stand with you no matter what, you can't ever earn the faith of others. Keep fighting the women--the half of your population--and you'll always be at the lowest strata in the devil's playground. You stay in your level forever, you'll never see what beyond, and you'll never know what the real fight is. And you'll always keep fighting the dolls the devil places on the board. And your country will slowly succumb to inflation and chaos and destruction. But I guess, you don't mind. I guess you don't care. You'll rape you own neighbor's children first if chaos begins. Because that's what you all are. Animals with no mind...
I had goosebumps reading this book.
I had goosebumps reading this book.
July 26, 2024
I understand that many people who read this book are going all about how cool its characters are, how well-built and real they feel, how perfectly they develop bit by bit over time. I totally understand them. People are also saying about its plot that how craftily the author manages to put the story arcs and all the beats at exactly the right places, and how well they manage to touch the reader emotions. I totally get you guys all.
But…
You know what I think?
I think people don’t get to those crafty, beautiful, enlightening, or whatever cool/big-things-your-characters-do sorta moments or what a smart-plot-twist-happens-at page-200 sorta moments if they can’t pass the previous 199 pages and reaches them. This is what I believe.
You go to a bookstore; you take a book; you expect the basic things will be there first. The basic things are:
1. Great characters evolving one step at a time even if it’s in a small episode
2. A plot with all the beats are there. Even if you fake a feeling of death, it should be there at the right place
3. A resolution moment at the Arc 3.
And these are basic. Any book that has ‘em right can be a bestseller for 3-6 months (depends on marketing)
But...
You know what is the advanced thing that a book can have? The thing that can make a book immortal?
The advanced thing is the writing style and voice.
A style that can make people keep reading even when they’re tired of building a career or an empire or two. A style that reminds you that once in your life you began reading because you loved reading books, and not just because it’s a profession, not just because you have to post a review content this week too or else people will forget that you're still here. It’s a writing style that makes people forget about critiquing and lets them simply enjoy it and finish it. Most important fact is: such voices leave an impact.
You crave such books.
I crave such books. I want books that give me rest instead of making me tired.
For me, THE NAME OF THE WIND was that book. I read good books before that didn’t make me tired, but I didn’t read those books in an age when I believed human body can be tired.
After I read Misba’s THE HIGH AUCTION and THE OLDEST DANCE, I just found two more books that give me rest instead of making me tired. These two are books that made me read until the end without making me realize I was reading. These two books also come with the basic three points that a book needs: it has a smart plot fit for an episode; it has characters who we see in a starting point at the beginning of the story, and they reach to a certain level of development at the end of the story (I’m stunned to see how intelligently Misba handles this part in just 250pgs), and the arc 3 feels like a short, episode-level resolution for all the major characters. While serving the basic story elements in the best way possible, Misba writes in a voice that makes an impact on your mind.
If the author continues to hold on, I can feel it in my bones that the author is here to be immortal, and not a bestseller, or just a bestseller. At least, one thing I know for sure is the right people are reading her book, people each of whom is worth a thousand default sells where the books don’t get opened afterwards anyway until you frequently see its cover coming at your face. I wish to live long enough to see how she becomes something bit by bit.
The High Auction and The Oldest Dance are not just 5 star books; they are 7 star ones. One extra star for her voice and writing style, the other star is for the covers she paints.
Ps. I’m not the type who would praise other books in the review of another author’s title. Even though THE NAME OF THE WIND is totally a different genre, I couldn’t help mentioning it here because they both gave me the similar feeling. Misba’s books are undoubtedly futuristic techy sci-fi, but written like some of the best epic fantasies you’ve read. I wish the author will keep her head clear and let her creative prana not ‘affected’ by stress--just like the Monk who never reacts to anything like a normal human would.
But…
You know what I think?
I think people don’t get to those crafty, beautiful, enlightening, or whatever cool/big-things-your-characters-do sorta moments or what a smart-plot-twist-happens-at page-200 sorta moments if they can’t pass the previous 199 pages and reaches them. This is what I believe.
You go to a bookstore; you take a book; you expect the basic things will be there first. The basic things are:
1. Great characters evolving one step at a time even if it’s in a small episode
2. A plot with all the beats are there. Even if you fake a feeling of death, it should be there at the right place
3. A resolution moment at the Arc 3.
And these are basic. Any book that has ‘em right can be a bestseller for 3-6 months (depends on marketing)
But...
You know what is the advanced thing that a book can have? The thing that can make a book immortal?
The advanced thing is the writing style and voice.
A style that can make people keep reading even when they’re tired of building a career or an empire or two. A style that reminds you that once in your life you began reading because you loved reading books, and not just because it’s a profession, not just because you have to post a review content this week too or else people will forget that you're still here. It’s a writing style that makes people forget about critiquing and lets them simply enjoy it and finish it. Most important fact is: such voices leave an impact.
You crave such books.
I crave such books. I want books that give me rest instead of making me tired.
For me, THE NAME OF THE WIND was that book. I read good books before that didn’t make me tired, but I didn’t read those books in an age when I believed human body can be tired.
After I read Misba’s THE HIGH AUCTION and THE OLDEST DANCE, I just found two more books that give me rest instead of making me tired. These two are books that made me read until the end without making me realize I was reading. These two books also come with the basic three points that a book needs: it has a smart plot fit for an episode; it has characters who we see in a starting point at the beginning of the story, and they reach to a certain level of development at the end of the story (I’m stunned to see how intelligently Misba handles this part in just 250pgs), and the arc 3 feels like a short, episode-level resolution for all the major characters. While serving the basic story elements in the best way possible, Misba writes in a voice that makes an impact on your mind.
If the author continues to hold on, I can feel it in my bones that the author is here to be immortal, and not a bestseller, or just a bestseller. At least, one thing I know for sure is the right people are reading her book, people each of whom is worth a thousand default sells where the books don’t get opened afterwards anyway until you frequently see its cover coming at your face. I wish to live long enough to see how she becomes something bit by bit.
The High Auction and The Oldest Dance are not just 5 star books; they are 7 star ones. One extra star for her voice and writing style, the other star is for the covers she paints.
Ps. I’m not the type who would praise other books in the review of another author’s title. Even though THE NAME OF THE WIND is totally a different genre, I couldn’t help mentioning it here because they both gave me the similar feeling. Misba’s books are undoubtedly futuristic techy sci-fi, but written like some of the best epic fantasies you’ve read. I wish the author will keep her head clear and let her creative prana not ‘affected’ by stress--just like the Monk who never reacts to anything like a normal human would.
Monks aren’t dangerous until they are moody, until they think they have nothing to lose. Especially when they do have a thousand and one things to lose. But who will convince them??
August 15, 2024
Sometimes, confidence depends on who you’re competing with. Sometimes, confidence depends on you realizing your opponents are not stronger than you. Sometimes, confidence is about how you view others. The realm outside the walls gives her that sort of confidence.
I am officially declaring myself a fan of this series with this incredible set of characters and such an adorable, respectable protagonist with such an intriguing mind. I read The High Auction before. It had stunning prose. I toned myself down for that one's review before, mostly because it was a short book and short books can have stunning writing when it's the first of a series, when the author is fresh. I wanted to see how the second book of the series goes after she enters the publishing world.
My goodness!
This book exceeds my imagination and expectation! Once again, Misba begins every chapter like it's the first chapter of a book. Once again, Misba introduces a new character, Ren Agnello, and she makes us see and feel the character within its first para. If anyone of you do not want to see Ren Agnello more after reading that three-page chapter (chapter-5), let me know. I'll hear you.
Here is the active entrance of Ren [chapter-5]
HAVE YOU EVER FELT HUMANS spend a huge chunk of their time sleeping or showering? How about cooking and eating? Ren Agnello sure feels it right down to his bone marrow. Considering he’s reading emails on the wall of his shower while conditioning his shiny blond waves with care.
He replies to thirteen emails swiftly, then writes another one to his beautiful assistant, Esla, just to make it fourteen and not an unlucky thirteen. He even writes two programs, dictating them to his CRAB with his mind, and checks if they solve the bug issues. He then sends both the codes to the head of Alphatech’s Prime Team, Mihir, including a note at the end: I was promoted seventeen years ago. How long will you make me do things that interns can do? Ren.
This book, compared to its first of the series, has more details in the character personality, emotions, and those repetitions of moments that make things ironic at the end of the book. The shining prose and philosophical thoughts that come out as striking punch to the face. No guys, they're not political, and they're not abstract or universally general lines that you'd think you've before. Mark my words: You will find countless lines in this book, once again like in The high Auction, that you've never heard before.
The best part of book-2 was the incredible plot mixed with outstanding voice and tone of writing. I was pretty impressed with the book-1's plot already. It had excellent start, journey, stake building, and the final arc at the High Auction. But this book, The Oldest Dance, has much intricate plot than the book 1. I felt surprised when I saw the book begins with the monk war hero. So naturally, I was more interested to find him more in the book, and it paid off. It was splendid how the Monk has his own arc in this one, and how his arc meets the protagonist, Kusha's arc at the end.
[SPOILER] I was looking forward to how the Monk will finally meet our beloved protagonist who finds it hard to talk to people, (pun intended) and I have to warn you, the book really gives you a blazing orchestra in the end. Tell me if its blazing music doesn't burn you.
One thing that I have to add here is, I was dreading the moment when the Monk meets the Intuitionist; I was dreading because often I found out the conversation between the leads get clumsy and cheap right after they meet. But with this book, the moments they meet were some of the best pages I've ever read. They had the most intensity. I don't mean romance here, but damn, those pages were hot. [SPOILER ENDS]
This is the first time I'm feeling romance without a single mention of romance in a book.
And what a lyrical presentation of prose!
Of course, she would be anxious. Women get concerned when a man gets too close. The concern multiplies if the man is old.
Apart from the blazing music and mysterious dance represented in this book, what impressed me more were the following things:
1. When the Monk gets rejected by Meera--Kusha's adoptive mother--and decides that he must do what he didn't want to do. That moment was so dramatic full of crafty dialogues, it gave me chills. Especially when the Monk almost discovered what Meera is hiding.
2. When Monk invades the world's most secured place that is designed by none other than the Mesmerizer, and it's hidden with invisibility techs, and I personally liked Pico's humor around there.
According to the plan I found from the article Top Ten Best Designed Architecture, there are seventeen dozen bookshelves, nineteen-foot-high each, and they are not exactly empty.--Pico
3. Word Witch: I was too much intrigued with this Word Witch and the mention of Bedeys in this book. As far as I found, Bedeys are South Asian version of Tinkers and nomads who live in boats and roam around places to places and show tricks with snakes. It certainly intrigued me as this is a different but still similar taste of fantasy. I'm certainly interested to see the South Asian versions of Tinkers and con tribes. It didn't come much in this book, but the hint of Word Witch shows that it will come in the future in some grand way. I'll be disappointed if it doesn't.
4. The conversation of the old costume seller and the Ask Anything Fairy intrigued me a lot. Those were some rich and dramatic conversation with juice, I must admit.
Not photos! Paintings! These are ninety-year-old paintings, and they’re well-preserved; they’re antique, you ignorant New World brat! Fifty thousand is only for the arts and not for the ink or the face-printer.
5. Last but not the least, can we give a round of applause for Maroc Metz--the Mesmerizer's loyal butler who gives me The Black Butler vibe? Maroc Metz completely gives me Sebastian x Hannibal vibe who will do anything for Ruem, the Mesmerizer. His conversation with the Monk at the end of the book was severe and intense.
There’s no music, no beats of drums—or maybe it should be tabla and talam for the genre she chose for her dance, Maroc notes. Yet, if you watch for twenty seconds, you’ll find your own music, your own rhythm, just as Maroc Metz does. In his mind, he finds his own tempo to match every footwork the Intuitionist makes, every leap she does, and every swirl she adds in between.
So far, after reading The High Auction by Misba, I told myself, we are seeing a new character master with voice. And After reading The Oldest Dance, we are seeing a plot and conversation master with tone. And I'm telling none of the conversation will ever feel dry. They have meat around. We're deeply entering a must-read series. .
[I received an ARC for the book]
October 20, 2024
So, my sister always gives me the last moment's manuscript to critique. Because in the end, whatever her dozens of critiques might leave out because of being polite and too nice, I would not. I'm currently reading the first third of the manuscript. And this is the first time I didn't skim through a past-moment scene--a backstory:
[***minor changes may remain from the final version. Formatting may not be the same here.***]
“There are three kinds of sins among humans,” Master said decades ago. “One kind: Humans love to do it, and it hurts only them. The second kind, well, that’s just a little intensified kind that harms beyond one person. And, to be honest, I made this one up to make the third one more dramatic. Everyone knows the third one is always dramatic.” Master chuckled that day, and Ruem still remembers clearly how even Yuan was annoyed at their master’s drama.
“So, the third kind of sin,” Master began, again dramatically, “harms generations after generations. Hiding wisdom is this third kind of sin. Humans are here to learn and share. Not to hide it like an old miser who bumped into a treasure, hidden it, stored it, and died without using it. Do you know why the miser hides the treasure?”
“Because he feared losing it?” Ruem said then.
���No, my boy,” Master said. “He hid it because he didn’t earn it with work. He just found it accidentally. Humans don’t hide the things they can earn again.”
“So, we shouldn’t use the treasure we find?” Yuan asked. “Just because we didn’t earn it?”
“Of course, you should use everything you find,” Master emphasized on ‘use’. “You bump into something because the universe leads you to it. So, you may use it, share it, but not ‘hide’ it. The worst kinds of sinners are the ones who hide wisdom. God save such sinners from generations of curses.”
Eight decades later, Ruem now believes little in sins. Yet, the repulsive feeling overpowers him whenever he finds a deformed truth, buried knowledge, or scrolls with misguidance.
[***minor changes may remain from the final version. Formatting may not be the same here.***]
October 19, 2024
People can accept strange things as long as others are doing it too.
Is this a spirituality book? No. Is this a religious book? No. Does this book convince the readers about some sorta belief? Definitely no. Then what do you mean this book is convincing? Morons, it means that its pages convince the readers to keep reading until it ends. That’s the only convincing a reader needs when s/he picks a f***ing fantasy book. You don’t need to learn something when you read a book; you don’t need to change your faith after you read a book; you definitely don’t need to wonder at all what million other stuff the universe has. When you read a book, you only need to be convinced enough whether the current page f***ing takes you to the next page or not. That’s the only f***ing convincing you need. This book is 243-page long, and it convinced me 243 times to get to the next page, and I f***ing want the next book as soon as possible.
Just like the first book, this book too was full of paras that I just wanted to post here, but I'll go with some short lines.
The power to reach answers is useless if you don’t know which questions to ask. Right questions are essential to finding what you seek ...
... right questions never come without context.
Thought Disorder Syndrome isn’t rare in this era. If your mind is focused, if your thoughts are powerful enough to become a reality, you need to be careful of what you think.
I was so very surprised at the fact that how intricately and wisely the author is building her world. And all these under such short length books. I loved the maze-like city; I loved the magic system, the power of voice and hypnosis, I loved how the authors builds even diseases in the future. The character building in this book is hugely exceptional. This book has the kind of characters that everyone will fall in love with instantly...
Is this a spirituality book? No. Is this a religious book? No. Does this book convince the readers about some sorta belief? Definitely no. Then what do you mean this book is convincing? Morons, it means that its pages convince the readers to keep reading until it ends. That’s the only convincing a reader needs when s/he picks a f***ing fantasy book. You don’t need to learn something when you read a book; you don’t need to change your faith after you read a book; you definitely don’t need to wonder at all what million other stuff the universe has. When you read a book, you only need to be convinced enough whether the current page f***ing takes you to the next page or not. That’s the only f***ing convincing you need. This book is 243-page long, and it convinced me 243 times to get to the next page, and I f***ing want the next book as soon as possible.
Just like the first book, this book too was full of paras that I just wanted to post here, but I'll go with some short lines.
The power to reach answers is useless if you don’t know which questions to ask. Right questions are essential to finding what you seek ...
... right questions never come without context.
Thought Disorder Syndrome isn’t rare in this era. If your mind is focused, if your thoughts are powerful enough to become a reality, you need to be careful of what you think.
I was so very surprised at the fact that how intricately and wisely the author is building her world. And all these under such short length books. I loved the maze-like city; I loved the magic system, the power of voice and hypnosis, I loved how the authors builds even diseases in the future. The character building in this book is hugely exceptional. This book has the kind of characters that everyone will fall in love with instantly...
September 17, 2024
I received a hardcover review copy with a sign and an "Old City Mail" seal. I asked the author what she wrote. It definitely looks Bengali, and it looks beautiful. The pages are so textured and hyper cream. It definitely looks like sketch paper. I'm guessing it's a special edition..
I'm in love with every chapter. I'm still awed at the fact that she writes every chapter like a first chapter of a book. I mean seriously, anyone who reads from any middle chapter in the book will end up being curious at it and will want to start from the beginning. The weaving of prose beautifully is easy. But crafting the lines while giving tension and arousing curiosity and love for the characters isn't something you see easily. This is a must-read.
EDIT: The author said it's pronounced--
"Valobasha...
Misba"
In Bengali, Valobasha means Love.
August 2, 2024
“Sometimes, there are those people whose voices are so strong, you just do what they say. You hold their glasses or keep their purses or buy them dinner because they ask you to do it out of the blue. You don’t ponder if you want to do it or not. Because they don’t give you the time to think. Then, you end up doing it, for you’re too much in the present limbo ...”
A science-fiction fantasy with a mesmerizing voice and lyrical writing that draws out some mesmerizing characters into life. Don’t forget that the book is about the Mesmerization power in futuristic South Asia. People have evolved through spiritual and mental evolution and so speaking right is a thing in the society. Let’s just say evolved High-Grade parents might be more concerned if you are not greeting the guest right. Of course, if you are not old enough you won’t have Voice yet. But this is where the book stunned me. Its world-building is so well thought out... I am still wondering how the author built it within such a short book. The thought-provoking lines and measured dialogues also caught my attention. Since speaking and voice are the power of the evolved people, so you will find many many many witty conversations that just fit the pages right. And what a theme! Blending Indian mythology in the tech-scifi world with spirituality and philosophy as a theme. I also have to add ... this book has a concept of spiritual magic like Force in Star Wars or Chi. It’s termed Prana in the book. And some of the characters do dance and music from South Asian culture that captivated me. I loved this new world and the well-built characters that feel like game and anime characters. Overall, it’s a new series that I will look for.
A science-fiction fantasy with a mesmerizing voice and lyrical writing that draws out some mesmerizing characters into life. Don’t forget that the book is about the Mesmerization power in futuristic South Asia. People have evolved through spiritual and mental evolution and so speaking right is a thing in the society. Let’s just say evolved High-Grade parents might be more concerned if you are not greeting the guest right. Of course, if you are not old enough you won’t have Voice yet. But this is where the book stunned me. Its world-building is so well thought out... I am still wondering how the author built it within such a short book. The thought-provoking lines and measured dialogues also caught my attention. Since speaking and voice are the power of the evolved people, so you will find many many many witty conversations that just fit the pages right. And what a theme! Blending Indian mythology in the tech-scifi world with spirituality and philosophy as a theme. I also have to add ... this book has a concept of spiritual magic like Force in Star Wars or Chi. It’s termed Prana in the book. And some of the characters do dance and music from South Asian culture that captivated me. I loved this new world and the well-built characters that feel like game and anime characters. Overall, it’s a new series that I will look for.
July 31, 2024
Fire chars.
Fire kills.
Fire has a prana that only steals.
When you see fire, running would be dire.
For a burn from fire would never heal.’
Kusha read it aloud once from The Book Of Prana ¬written by Anonymous
I wanted to give a long and good review on this book, which I'll do later. This book deserves it. I just couldn't help it write this point. So many times while reading this book I just wanted to stop and sit and marvel at what I just read, and then I wanted to talk about it with someone, but i put that point for later to write down in my review. But then, the next point arrives soon after and marvels me even more. As this kept happening over and over, I think specifically after this point, I just couldn't help it anymore I just had to write down this poem at least.
#THIS_IS_BIG
#POETRY_IN_SCIFI
Fire kills.
Fire has a prana that only steals.
When you see fire, running would be dire.
For a burn from fire would never heal.’
Kusha read it aloud once from The Book Of Prana ¬written by Anonymous
I wanted to give a long and good review on this book, which I'll do later. This book deserves it. I just couldn't help it write this point. So many times while reading this book I just wanted to stop and sit and marvel at what I just read, and then I wanted to talk about it with someone, but i put that point for later to write down in my review. But then, the next point arrives soon after and marvels me even more. As this kept happening over and over, I think specifically after this point, I just couldn't help it anymore I just had to write down this poem at least.
#THIS_IS_BIG
#POETRY_IN_SCIFI
October 20, 2024
His eyes usually look tired and blurred during these times, like an old man’s eyes should when they boringly gaze at anything in the world. Ninety-nine years should be enough to turn the world boring.
But tonight, the Monk’s eyes look energetic—full of prana, to be precise. They look like those old times, the times when he used to get excited, finding something interesting, something new, something he never saw before. And then, he would go after it with sparkling eyes. To be exact, he would go after it with the Mesmerizer—with … Ruem. Always with Ruem.
The Monk’s eyes sparkle like that today ...
Have you ever bumped into a story and thought that you'll never run out of topics to talk about if you begin to talk about it? I'm sure you have. So did I, with a few. They grew on me under my skin somehow. And when I found a fellow fan, I just can't stop talking about it with them. This is that kind of book. It's first book was somewhere around 160 pgs, and Oldest Dance has around 240 pgs. And yet, I feel like I have so many things to talk about, and I don't know where should I even begin. I've almost never came to read a book where all elements of a book would be perfectly laid out, where everything will feel so complete. This book gave me everything. It gave me a crazy plot, stunning characters, so measured and rich dialogues ... don't even make me start with the narrative prose. I can guarantee you, if it ever comes in an audiobook, you'll never ever drift off from listening. It never lets you drift off from its pages. I have read a lot of voicey and books with flowing prose in the last ten years. I loved them, but I also thought most lack at least in one thing--usually in building a character that I can really fall in love with or in plot. But this book has all elements perfectly blended in. The author is scarily talented. This book isn't made in a year or two; I can see that.
Most important: what to do about her? Follow? Or not follow?
Yes, I'll definitely follow...
But tonight, the Monk’s eyes look energetic—full of prana, to be precise. They look like those old times, the times when he used to get excited, finding something interesting, something new, something he never saw before. And then, he would go after it with sparkling eyes. To be exact, he would go after it with the Mesmerizer—with … Ruem. Always with Ruem.
The Monk’s eyes sparkle like that today ...
Have you ever bumped into a story and thought that you'll never run out of topics to talk about if you begin to talk about it? I'm sure you have. So did I, with a few. They grew on me under my skin somehow. And when I found a fellow fan, I just can't stop talking about it with them. This is that kind of book. It's first book was somewhere around 160 pgs, and Oldest Dance has around 240 pgs. And yet, I feel like I have so many things to talk about, and I don't know where should I even begin. I've almost never came to read a book where all elements of a book would be perfectly laid out, where everything will feel so complete. This book gave me everything. It gave me a crazy plot, stunning characters, so measured and rich dialogues ... don't even make me start with the narrative prose. I can guarantee you, if it ever comes in an audiobook, you'll never ever drift off from listening. It never lets you drift off from its pages. I have read a lot of voicey and books with flowing prose in the last ten years. I loved them, but I also thought most lack at least in one thing--usually in building a character that I can really fall in love with or in plot. But this book has all elements perfectly blended in. The author is scarily talented. This book isn't made in a year or two; I can see that.
Most important: what to do about her? Follow? Or not follow?
Yes, I'll definitely follow...
October 29, 2024
Just as a musician would run his fingers on a piano—a set of keys first, another set next while maintaining a proper timing. The explosions continue just like that.
The tunes resemble the sounds of an organ.
The tunes craft music.
Stunning! Just stunning! You know this book is embarrassing me to the point why I didn't come to it sooner. It'll sure embarrass many.
The tunes resemble the sounds of an organ.
The tunes craft music.
Stunning! Just stunning! You know this book is embarrassing me to the point why I didn't come to it sooner. It'll sure embarrass many.
January 14, 2025
This book has been a great ride. From a sci-fi perspective, from a fantasy perspective to a philosophical and spiritual perspective, this book is one of the bests I've read this year. The characters are intriguing and makes me curious to know more about them. Especially the MC, who seems like the weakest character in the book, but also seems like the strongest potential. Just the perfect hero-quality.
October 2, 2024
I think there's a thing called 'imagination common sense'. Not most people have it. It's that thing where you see something, and then it makes you solve a completely whole different thing in a whole different department. Like I did a thesis once where the topic was how exploring multi-field affects the brain. And then, I came up to a video where I saw this man who was a scientist in math field, but also is a pro chef, and also has papers in neuro-science. And sometimes, he explains his new food recipe with math/ neuro science. I call this 'imagination common sense'. Like you do programming, and then you realize the real universe is a giant program where everywhere you see math. If you still don't get what I mean, then perhaps this will help, the opposite of 'imagination common sense' is 'factology'. People with imagination common sense solves things faster. While factologists stay within their own goddamn circle for their whole life. They also call the one who practice multi-disciplinary subjects that never goes together 'Ablists'. Cuz they just can't think that people just might be practicing multiple things together to heal their brain. Apparently, always learning a new thing keeps ADHD and Alzheimer in control. I am super duper excited seeing this side of human mind evolution applied in this book.
November 7, 2024
The story continues really stronger in The Oldest Dance. I could see the Monk way more here with much stronger presence in a way that I could see he was influencing my attention. Plus, there's is always this vibe whenever the mesmerizer is on the scene too. I liked the scene where the Gold Agent meets him in Kuhawk. It was really interesting that Maroc was playing The Roar of Death Sonata in violin right before the Gold Agent came. It kinda remind me how Neil Gaiman sets the mood of each of his scene with pause or music before even a slight conversation happens. There could be lots to talk about from these books and I wouldn't ever run out of topics if I start. Misba's books are masterful. I want to see more of them...
January 8, 2025
Normally, when I read scifi, I used to read the ones where there would be some total skinny white dude wearing weird goggles to act like nerds, and they would frequently say "A'mma baaaad booooooooyy!" just to act whiter than ever. And they would explain their things like "my auto-glowing, ass-poking, nice-looking screw driver is poking the next ass gradually one nanometer at a time while I stay 105 degree slanted to the completely grey board beside me in a way that I would make a perfect tangent on a hot blonde's circular boobs if the boob was five inches above my eye level, also if I can ever manage to look at one from that level, that it."
Oh phew, so this is why I was avoiding scifi for a while even though I read some good ones recently too, which I love so much that i worry what I'll do when I move out of my temporary house. But man, this book just blew me away that I never thought a book could do to me. This book flows like the sweetest water from the eternal fountain from a fantasy land. I am eagerly waiting for the next book.
Oh phew, so this is why I was avoiding scifi for a while even though I read some good ones recently too, which I love so much that i worry what I'll do when I move out of my temporary house. But man, this book just blew me away that I never thought a book could do to me. This book flows like the sweetest water from the eternal fountain from a fantasy land. I am eagerly waiting for the next book.
July 14, 2022
This book gave me everything. It gave me a crazy plot, stunning characters, so measured and rich dialogues ... don't even make me start with the narrative prose. I can guarantee you, if it ever comes in an audiobook, you'll never ever drift off from listening. It never lets you drift off from its pages.
November 26, 2024
As its first reader, reader of its second draft to all other drafts, including being the instant-critique of her art, I think it's my duty to review it. This series is the most engaging story I've ever read. It's world is like Final Fantasy, that is magic and metaphysical power in a futuristic settings and rich world building that feels real. The kind readers want to live. The thing that amazes me the most is, how perfectionist the author is...she wants her characters to be the best, she wants her structure perfect, she wants her plot perfect, she wants her writing to be perfect, and she keeps redoing her illustrations because after a week she'd think the lines thickness wasn't good enough (!)
She has a checklist for every page and she told me give 1or 0 to every page. If I marked a page 0, she would stop and fix that specific page until it's not just readable, but flowing and melting through my mouth giving me tension. Only then, she'd move to the next page. Living four years with Misba, I saw closely how a piece of art, whether a painting or a writing or the other things she does, I came to see how they get shaped. I'm lucky I got to see her cute nose while she complains about her own writing and painting. I always say, "it just can't get any better, honey."
She proves me wrong every time. Sometimes, that's A dozen times per page. If you read the chapters, you will see, they don't feel boring no matter how many times you read them. I don't think I could have survived after that many reading if her pages were flat and not flowing. This is the only logic I can show as the partner-for-life of the author while I review her book.
Enjoy!
She has a checklist for every page and she told me give 1or 0 to every page. If I marked a page 0, she would stop and fix that specific page until it's not just readable, but flowing and melting through my mouth giving me tension. Only then, she'd move to the next page. Living four years with Misba, I saw closely how a piece of art, whether a painting or a writing or the other things she does, I came to see how they get shaped. I'm lucky I got to see her cute nose while she complains about her own writing and painting. I always say, "it just can't get any better, honey."
She proves me wrong every time. Sometimes, that's A dozen times per page. If you read the chapters, you will see, they don't feel boring no matter how many times you read them. I don't think I could have survived after that many reading if her pages were flat and not flowing. This is the only logic I can show as the partner-for-life of the author while I review her book.
Enjoy!
January 13, 2024
I liked how the Monk was shown more in this book, which was just the perfect timing for his development. Absolutely loved his character and I loved how even the "Monk" has his subtle petty side of him that definitely foreshadows something if I'm not reading too much into that.
July 11, 2022
The Oldest Dance had more crafted scenes than pages. If the first one had more focus on paragraphs, this second one I think had more focus on story structure and plot and scenes. And on characterizations, I think this second book continued the rich characterization the first one started.
March 29, 2024
"As a war hero searches the oldest language in an ancient art of dance, he might discover the Intuitionist's power of reaching any answers."
The synopsis tells me we'll have more of the Monk, and not only that, we'd have encounters of the Monk and the MC. Well, aren't I looking forward to that! And I'm also curious to see who else will be introduced besides Meehae. I'm enjoying this series much more than I expected.
The synopsis tells me we'll have more of the Monk, and not only that, we'd have encounters of the Monk and the MC. Well, aren't I looking forward to that! And I'm also curious to see who else will be introduced besides Meehae. I'm enjoying this series much more than I expected.
October 23, 2023
The boy wonders if he could beg for forgiveness. You can always ask for forgiveness, no matter who you are, as long as the one from whom you ask has something human. The boy thinks he can too, but then he looks into her eyes, and he loses hope. No way forgiveness may come from that pair of eyes. Dragging himself, he just runs.
You cannot convince someone who is not listening. She has shut her ears; she has closed her eyes. Meaning: it’s the end of his life. He called it upon himself. It’s his fault—the boy sees it. The death. He’s called death on to himself. A smile cracks on her lips.
I trust Kusha because she is so authentic and truthful, but I'm also terrified of her. Genuine people don't ponder much about making it believable, which makes them predictable, but it also makes their rage come without a warning. There's book where I have read 'what's the best punishment in the world?' The author says the best punishment in the world is "a prison where the fools will kept in absolute delight and luxury and happiness to provide them all the peaks of their soul-time within a very short span and make it run out, so that their falls begin afterward and the rest of their soul-time suffers in misery."I think that author is a super sadist cuz why else would you wanna punish someone with happiness so that one can reach their eternal misery. Oops! I think I just described Satan too.
October 31, 2024
There’s no music, no beats of drums—or maybe it should be tabla and talam for the genre she chose for her dance, Maroc notes. Yet, if you watch for twenty seconds, you’ll find your own music, your own rhythm, just as Maroc Metz does. In his mind, he finds his own tempo to match every footwork the Intuitionist makes, every leap she does, and every swirl she adds in between.That is some description of a dance. Somehow I don't know whether the protagonist is moving left or right, somehow I don't know what she is actually doing while being on that stage, yet somehow I just know what she is doing, and somehow her dance just looks so musical in my head. I never thought I'd be seeing dance in a book someday.
July 14, 2022
A new character that instantly made me curious about her past. Then comes the Monk's journey and his little yet grand fights with the Mesmerizer. That Kuhawk scene was incredibly visual. Great writing on the dynamic parts as well.
July 16, 2022
I read Misba's books, and she takes characterization to a whole different level and it scares me out. It's as if I'am represented in the book to a level of detail that I even look back at the wall to see if someone is seeing me.
April 4, 2022
“Seekers only need a hint, my boy,” their master said. Their master, and not his. “Seekers are your target. The rest, leave them be. They are, what do you say, non-playable characters? They are only here to build the world; they’re here to make the world believable. They are here to keep the balance of the universe. They’re not your target. And the ones who are your target would only need one hint or two.” MY GOODNESS! Who writes 'these' like this today? Maybe in the dead ol days, yes, but now? I love Yuan and Ruem's master's voice so much. This book is something. I like the second book more than the first.
January 12, 2024
I might be sounding general, but I thought, High Auction was a really superb entry to a fantasy world. It had the best characterization and mood along with some of the best-crafted pages I've ever read.
January 15, 2025
Its lines flow like honey; its characters are some fine glasses of wine, and its theme is something that can eat and digest. This is a livable world, guys. It's like fantasy but in the future.
Currently reading
August 19, 2024“She walked barefoot on roads. Traveled to countless villages, towns, and cities. She spent nights with Bedeys—nomads on the boats—fought for women, killed for women, cried for women, and danced naked when she went berserk. And whenever she asked, the Hijras would join her. Hijras would do anything for her.”
This book isn't for the forgetful people. There are several kinds of forgetfulness. I don't want to go into the details of each kind. But they say the 'intellectuals' forget to close the door, but they remember the stuff that matters. Today I won't call the Donkeys 'Donkeys' or the Dogs 'Dogs' or the Daddys 'Daddys' who have gone through this structured path of 'Donkey to Dog to Daddy'--the copy pasted pathway over the centuries. To the people who really want to awaken their true power. I mean seriously, not mockingly, but to the people who used to code into Meave (from Westworld)--if you want to be free, fight yourselves first. I give you a deadline of two years or something like that. But work on yourselves first before you do anything stupid. I mean it. Do not follow structured paths. Do not call yourselves Kings or Gods either--those are also 'terms' which I would call the 'Dogs' of the upper floor. Go infinite. And don't dog yourselves.
Something Kusha doesn’t want to answer. Because if she answers, Meera will not say, so your trustworthy friend left you in an alley of a lawless city? Worse: did you leave your comrade on the battlefield? Meera never says such things aloud.
Want to read
May 24, 2022Normally when I read scifi, they go well over my head because of how badly they are written. I read some rare few scifi books where the writing was good. Those books could show me characters and the world in a juicy ways, like adding humor in bot characters or making human jokes while showing techs, you know, the kind of comments that immediately brings me back to normal state of point rather than some classroom where the bored teacher talks about imaginary numbers in number-language rather than human language. Or the sociology class where teachers teach four-syllable-words rather than sociology itself. If those rare few books hadn't existed, I'd ve lost faith in scifi and probably I wouldn't have got to this book by a new author. I'm so glad i tried this book. This book exceeds my expectation in all ways. It has nothing that I could call 'talking tech in four-syllable adjectives'. This is a completely human stuff told in human language with a voice like an old storyteller and emotions like the old contemporary books.
Currently reading
August 19, 2024“Ruem,” he mumbles inaudibly. The name feels distant in his tongue. A long time ago, they used to call each other by their names. How time changes all! He now even thinks of him as the Mesmerizer, not Ruem. Perhaps the Mesmerizer does that too. Perhaps he thinks of him as the Monk.
Sometimes I can't believe how realistic Misba's words get as I read. I wonder how many names have turned into these other names in your heads, just like there are names in my heads too. Perhaps around these times, you all feel nostalgic about the days of the old, just like The Oldest Dance speaks about it.
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