Where Two Rivers Meet: Reading Kafka on the Shore “And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through… but you will know the person who walked out is not the same one who walked in.” — Haruki Murakami After a long time, I picked up a book, and for some reason, it felt like more than just a book. Maybe because reading again after so long was like stumbling upon an oasis in a desert. Or maybe because it transported me across time and space into something utterly unnatural. And the name of that book is (drumroll...) Kafka on the Shore . I picked it up because a friend suggested it. I had always thought this Murakami guy was a bit overhyped. For the past two days, I lived somewhere between Tokyo and the surreal between a library filled with ghosts and a forest that seemed to exist outside of time. I wandered with Kafka Tamura, spoke softly with Nakata (in the third person, just like him), and listened to Oshima's quiet truths echo within me. ...