Anjali and the Gestalt

From my review here:


“…and digging himself deeper until he dug himself right down into Gina’s father’s coal mine,…”

Impossible to plotify this story other than by reading it as a whole, but it all seems emotionally honest, even though some of the characters deceive the other characters, deceive even themselves. The story of Michael and Gina, escaped from her father who had held them both under his financial thumb, this couple becoming a would-be Bonnie and Clyde? No, because one of them, scared of his own shadow, is seeking a Yellow House not a a Yellow Brick Road, a house with a red swing outside, a house housing Michael’s ex and his handsome little son with curls. But, Gina, when abandoned, is tended by a disarmingly altruistic old man, before she randomly by chance is due to be a waitress at a certain marriage feast….
And it is the Gestalt itself that owns the emotional honesty, I guess, not the individual people who make up that Gestalt. A Gestalt that wants what it wants and has no mercy but to let its own real-time audit-trail pan out to get it. Circumventing human fickleness and any inborn sincerity trying to express itself person by person, transcending such fickleness?
Gestalt, one of the names they call God?

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