tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-366778722024-03-11T08:50:20.572+05:30MellowDramaOpinions. Storytelling. Pep talk. amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.comBlogger293125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-29109905290802142202023-07-17T10:30:00.001+05:302023-07-17T10:30:00.139+05:30Journey into Imagination: 3 Visionary Authors and Illustrators Revolutionizing Children's Literature<p>Let's introduce you to three extraordinary authors and illustrators who have left an indelible mark on children's literature. From captivating illustrations to enchanting narratives, their works have captured the hearts of readers worldwide. Join me on this delightful journey into the world of Oliver Jeffers, Julia Donaldson, and Chris Riddell.</p><p><b>1. Oliver Jeffers: Where Imagination Takes Flight! <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWD3GuU-lSjodHw4_E0M33d7QTze1tRttpasvC4i9cq1aCJmasi-Il74gwOrIs1nDlQkhBwHrmaroupPbP01k-_2PY2NKXCTIOz0KoZfyvRph1dcfUjDJg3XE4-_qs0MduRwK87wmlYTEcH9J2x0lAX5WPiNCyUd1LVI1L4AJ5gh8PXS10mWXbcw/s267/OliverJ.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="188" data-original-width="267" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWD3GuU-lSjodHw4_E0M33d7QTze1tRttpasvC4i9cq1aCJmasi-Il74gwOrIs1nDlQkhBwHrmaroupPbP01k-_2PY2NKXCTIOz0KoZfyvRph1dcfUjDJg3XE4-_qs0MduRwK87wmlYTEcH9J2x0lAX5WPiNCyUd1LVI1L4AJ5gh8PXS10mWXbcw/w200-h141/OliverJ.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Oliver Jeffers</b></td></tr></tbody></table></b></p><p>Picture this: vibrant colors, whimsical illustrations, and stories that make your heart soar. That's Oliver Jeffers for you! With his unique visual storytelling style, he transports readers to magical worlds through books like "Lost and Found" and "The Day the Crayons Quit." Jeffers' enchanting artistry will leave you in awe and craving more.</p><p><b>2. Julia Donaldson: Words That Dance Off the Page!</b></p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPhFIlFWMjpl7E3VN_ueu9CcMYQV6uftsEpsz60YiFTodOacrDyqel9bisRmKe-E98yq6aYec-6zlU_U8B1L7lFzAjf8Em52J0qSfaDQ8vPvHA90P8pRzmAjptsrk1qTxjUsvG2kov_yogCrgerL4pDVhWpk_FbLZOr3pXr1ZEcdMl5hGuaxO69w/s1400/JuliaD.webp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="933" data-original-width="1400" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPhFIlFWMjpl7E3VN_ueu9CcMYQV6uftsEpsz60YiFTodOacrDyqel9bisRmKe-E98yq6aYec-6zlU_U8B1L7lFzAjf8Em52J0qSfaDQ8vPvHA90P8pRzmAjptsrk1qTxjUsvG2kov_yogCrgerL4pDVhWpk_FbLZOr3pXr1ZEcdMl5hGuaxO69w/w199-h133/JuliaD.webp" width="199" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Julia Donaldson</b></td></tr></tbody></table>Prepare to be swept off your feet by the lyrical tales of Julia Donaldson. With her rhythmic language and unforgettable characters, she creates stories that come alive. From the mischievous "Gruffalo" to the witchy adventures in "Room on the Broom," Donaldson's narratives are pure delight. Trust us, you'll be reciting her catchy rhymes long after the book is closed!</p><p><b><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdBz1hB1qTnA4zvaLb6vqGg9LSYf8H4xtXIxgrTjhHWMydoErIwcmSevylg-Kl5N_hQQteQCB5F7NTj-A5rRswqoBBslML7KNMPeaRKQhqhUFOFlv5_49ZeMsvV-abi4N3FMU6szt8s7TSxr_Iclxahf7Q5XlTwmz04yKMrgWa6__4C07elx_VQ/s289/ChrisR.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="289" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdBz1hB1qTnA4zvaLb6vqGg9LSYf8H4xtXIxgrTjhHWMydoErIwcmSevylg-Kl5N_hQQteQCB5F7NTj-A5rRswqoBBslML7KNMPeaRKQhqhUFOFlv5_49ZeMsvV-abi4N3FMU6szt8s7TSxr_Iclxahf7Q5XlTwmz04yKMrgWa6__4C07elx_VQ/w200-h120/ChrisR.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Chris Riddell</b></td></tr></tbody></table>3. Chris Riddell: Where Imagination Meets Intricacy!</b></p><p>Step into a world where imagination knows no bounds. Chris Riddell's intricate illustrations and magical storytelling transport readers to realms beyond their wildest dreams. Whether exploring the "Edge Chronicles" or joining forces with Neil Gaiman, Riddell's whimsical artistry is a visual feast that sparks the imagination and ignites a sense of wonder.</p><p><b>Bonus Mention: Kate DiCamillo - Stories That Touch Your Soul! </b><br /></p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ98mFwjOGWv1ahp2jNyXPmDWe_WvckaHjUGLjZ822DnC3c6mW9TYNoRZXVOOxRibbiEVaSpB7Ttg4neGGDwszNSmn4zrfhnWcjbPXsjwDgtljGD2vQE131csBsrs92SG4O9OaHn20O6rQioRFaTgyt9Ynp1eg2mrwAp-r9cGvOTE5wB_INioxMQ/s259/Kate.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="195" data-original-width="259" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ98mFwjOGWv1ahp2jNyXPmDWe_WvckaHjUGLjZ822DnC3c6mW9TYNoRZXVOOxRibbiEVaSpB7Ttg4neGGDwszNSmn4zrfhnWcjbPXsjwDgtljGD2vQE131csBsrs92SG4O9OaHn20O6rQioRFaTgyt9Ynp1eg2mrwAp-r9cGvOTE5wB_INioxMQ/w200-h151/Kate.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b>Kate DiCamillo</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table>We couldn't resist mentioning Kate DiCamillo, the queen of heartfelt storytelling. Her emotionally resonant tales, like "Because of Winn-Dixie" and "The Tale of Despereaux," tug at your heartstrings and leave a lasting impact. DiCamillo's ability to capture the essence of human emotions will make you laugh, cry, and reflect on life's beautiful intricacies.</p><p>So there you have it, book lovers! </p><p>Oliver Jeffers, Julia Donaldson, Chris Riddell, and the soul-stirring tales of Kate DiCamillo are waiting to whisk you away on extraordinary adventures. From captivating illustrations to rhythmic storytelling, their creative genius will leave you spellbound. Dive into their books, lose yourself in their enchanting worlds, and let your imagination run wild. Happy reading, and may your journey through the magic of their storytelling be absolutely unforgettable!</p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-2409177597529074062023-07-14T13:02:00.023+05:302023-07-14T18:48:01.632+05:30Sparking a Reading Revolution: 5 Tricks to create a Bookworm <p>Reading is a gateway to a world of knowledge, imagination, and personal growth. Whether you're nurturing a child's reading habits or looking to cultivate your own, developing a lifelong love for books is a journey worth embarking on. In this blog post, we'll explore smart and informative tips and tricks to create lasting reading habits that will enrich your life and expand your horizons.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK0Aqosf5cSdZynjDLD9D0c3wydA0dLS1bJLSZqMJs_T_OVmp5NnxNbHRX7d6I0KltKLuyK_YHDuB4bgCKuMko-D4s4VE_xIaUyAwzmuypbE_b6nQdWSi906TvnIY4OYWs7Xk8WvtmaeS1cUNCdzynq079gC0pfus4msnxsDSQMWmJWkPFwwcenQ/s6000/pexels-anna-pou-9345612.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK0Aqosf5cSdZynjDLD9D0c3wydA0dLS1bJLSZqMJs_T_OVmp5NnxNbHRX7d6I0KltKLuyK_YHDuB4bgCKuMko-D4s4VE_xIaUyAwzmuypbE_b6nQdWSi906TvnIY4OYWs7Xk8WvtmaeS1cUNCdzynq079gC0pfus4msnxsDSQMWmJWkPFwwcenQ/w200-h133/pexels-anna-pou-9345612.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><p>Here are some nifty ideas to get yourself or your little ones to build a reading habit:</p><p><b>1. Create a Reading Challenge: </b>Design a fun and interactive reading challenge to make reading a thrilling adventure. Set achievable goals, offer rewards or incentives, and track progress together. Whether it's completing a certain number of books or exploring different genres, a reading challenge adds excitement and motivation.</p><p><b>2. Make Reading Interactive: </b>Enhance the reading experience by incorporating interactive elements. Encourage children to create their own bookmarks, act out scenes from their favorite books, or draw illustrations based on the story. Adding a hands-on and creative aspect to reading keeps children engaged and invested in the process.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONve5cdW7USl0VZiIqQa7r4PM0YJj03QSL3jo0dplmzh3_SByETi9EjumpbCFJH7tYR6OaFBv55zgQzP4IrMh3VJLbLgMEhSA8wTT8M1yljd6cilHRcoLxlK3HSske7Z7GUT5UR-TKd5X9MHVNGFGjNybfR3__MvX1BuuNwzQzTElkfCp_10L8A/s6240/pexels-nataliya-vaitkevich-6532374.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="6240" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONve5cdW7USl0VZiIqQa7r4PM0YJj03QSL3jo0dplmzh3_SByETi9EjumpbCFJH7tYR6OaFBv55zgQzP4IrMh3VJLbLgMEhSA8wTT8M1yljd6cilHRcoLxlK3HSske7Z7GUT5UR-TKd5X9MHVNGFGjNybfR3__MvX1BuuNwzQzTElkfCp_10L8A/w200-h133/pexels-nataliya-vaitkevich-6532374.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><b>3. Create a Reading Rewards System: </b>Implement a reading rewards system where children earn points or stickers for every book they complete. Accumulated points can be redeemed for small rewards or special privileges. This gamification of reading adds an element of fun and encourages children to consistently pick up books.<p><b>4. Host Book Swap Parties: </b>Organize book swap parties where children can bring books they have already read and exchange them with friends. This not only introduces them to new titles but also encourages social interaction and a sense of community around reading. It's a fantastic way to keep the excitement for reading alive.</p><p><b>5. Connect Books to Real-Life Experiences: </b>Help children relate books to their own lives by selecting stories that align with their interests or experiences. If they love animals, choose books with animal characters or set in nature. By making connections between books and their own lives, children develop a deeper connection with reading.</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG32P9_Vh7GxVtvnm7TmH_4xVqrtzoAdMfci96i7m538aBiiZyFXSHTdYTK-7HyTEGU1i8XWIxvs_9ozSUP00HOdfCoZmJ2YLDPJpAJ_L7ujMrLGDqMgybS1pyBfnoT6iwc00wtKThAhJEzZcNGk_9aew8UfN2wtu7krflGjEjGPIKbugE7c-clw/s6000/pexels-o%CC%88zgu%CC%88r-844734.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG32P9_Vh7GxVtvnm7TmH_4xVqrtzoAdMfci96i7m538aBiiZyFXSHTdYTK-7HyTEGU1i8XWIxvs_9ozSUP00HOdfCoZmJ2YLDPJpAJ_L7ujMrLGDqMgybS1pyBfnoT6iwc00wtKThAhJEzZcNGk_9aew8UfN2wtu7krflGjEjGPIKbugE7c-clw/w200-h133/pexels-o%CC%88zgu%CC%88r-844734.jpg" width="200" /><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></a></p><p><b>6. Utilize Technology: </b>Embrace the convenience of technology by exploring e-books and audiobooks. These digital formats provide easy access to a vast library of titles that can be enjoyed on the go. Audiobooks, in particular, are a great option for multitaskers, allowing you to dive into stories while commuting or engaging in other activities.</p><p>Remember, the key is to make reading enjoyable, interactive, and relevant to children's interests and experiences. With these innovative tricks, you can ignite their love for reading and foster a lifelong reading habit that will benefit them in countless ways. Happy reading adventures! </p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-19177256292604547312022-11-01T22:23:00.000+05:302023-07-11T19:10:49.609+05:30Freedom in a tea cup<p> The country has celebrated its 75th independence day. How about you?</p><p>This Independence Day as I made my ritualistic first cup, the air was filled with patriotism. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiy13ePpEUswsKwQcrlsXasKRAZ-lbISqTbNON9B9aFNXcm_o01oNRqp-gGsVBljuvdgQzo59IYR9j_d4FlfRV220Z7RkJo7oSrh2EYpkyaG9SLUtUHSsHDWUuVNcloBSYEzZxqA/s249/tea.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="202" data-original-width="249" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiy13ePpEUswsKwQcrlsXasKRAZ-lbISqTbNON9B9aFNXcm_o01oNRqp-gGsVBljuvdgQzo59IYR9j_d4FlfRV220Z7RkJo7oSrh2EYpkyaG9SLUtUHSsHDWUuVNcloBSYEzZxqA/s0/tea.jpeg" width="249"></a></div><p>I focused on measuring the water for making a cup of tea. I added my standard spice to it and waited for it to come to a rolling boil. Things- feeling of being deficient and insufficient- often visit me during this time. As I don't like being spoken to till I have had my first cup, they have probably begun to get bored and leave of their own accord. Some sweet ones do accompany them at times- reminders of conversations, songs- but I am learning the art of balancing.</p><p>I measure the tea leaves with my fingers, letting a tactile sense guide me to the flavour. Sometime I flatter myself and think I know how much of which kind of tea needs to be added to which quantity of water for that perfect cup of refreshment. </p><p>Another couple of minutes of robust boiling and I add milk. I let this whole mixture boil once more and then cover it to allow it to steep while I get my preferred cup ready with some sugar in it. </p><p>I often also think of research that tells you of the ill-effects of having a cup of tea as the first thing to consume upon waking up. I haven't read or even glanced through these papers but I will take the opinion of those who matter in to consideration and shrug my shoulders at the research. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't.</p><p>My father has been a tea researcher. I do not know what that exactly means or entails but I do know how a good cup of tea smells. Quite early in life we- me and my younger sister- were introduced to the ritual that morning tea is. </p><p>I remember my father making tea in the kitchen for our breakfast- mostly a roti- smeared with homemade ghee, sprinkled with a herbed salt. If I focus well I can still recall that taste of the sweet, hot tea that would go so well with that roti.</p><p>Milk did try to make inroads into our lives and my sister's love for it is stuff legends are made of, but tea caught my fancy, , quite early on. As I grew up, stepped out of the house and learnt to make tea, I came under a lot of scrutiny and criticism from everyone I know for the way I prepared tea. My grandmother, who introduced me to the fullness of the flavour of saunf wali chai- declared that it was poison that I made. My mother told my would be MiL that probably our daughter is an exceptional child but just beware of the tea she makes. I could not understand the opposition much. I liked my tea strong and sweet, with the right amount of milk to give it just the colour that matched my complexion.</p><p>This amount of milk it seems was the reason for the glares I would get. To avoid those looks at times and at others just to save myself the tik-tik (of a very different nature than what is now a popular form) from the family I would make the lighter version of tea and dump it when no one would be looking.</p><p>Fast forward to about 11 years later where I was now a full time mother (is there any other kind? ). Jobless and friend-less in an alien city, far far far from family and relatives (thank god for that!) Life swerved like a car in a Bollywood chase scene.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ga2D7GzPDSqsJ8Q8TXamk6zSjyvwNiRnPafxc9Q_bClDW51sLmoTj_IQbt25QrIDSLGSgjs5hXmoARU1hC9olDITaVyip7GT6pzRGKlLI2Xk0AYDdp4S62CRMSEN2fxjCBnKgA/s277/tea1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="182" data-original-width="277" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ga2D7GzPDSqsJ8Q8TXamk6zSjyvwNiRnPafxc9Q_bClDW51sLmoTj_IQbt25QrIDSLGSgjs5hXmoARU1hC9olDITaVyip7GT6pzRGKlLI2Xk0AYDdp4S62CRMSEN2fxjCBnKgA/s0/tea1.jpeg" width="277"></a></div><p></p><p>I was gradually becoming clueless. I lost the concept of time. Chore upon chore piled up high on my to do list. The whole day would pass me by without giving me a moment to breathe. I figured out ( like all mums all over the world do, sooner or later) that if I wanted any time at all for anything which I wanted to do by myself or for myself, it had to be before the household stirred.</p><p>Tea, as you might have guessed by now, came to my rescue. While before this enlightenment I had seen tea as an energy drink, a life giver, sleep demolisher now I began to see the whole process of making tea as therapy without knowing its benefits.</p><p>Back to the moment, as I poured my tea, I try not to contemplate anything. Being a highly sensitive person, I have found it- tea and in depth thinking to be a hugely problematic thing. So, like the older ones have warned us, never mix work with pleasure, I heed the advice and drink my tea with an almost an empty mind. </p><p>And that is how I unshackle myself every morning and savour freedom of just being.<br></p><p>Happy Independence! May you relish yours and I mine. For as long as we live. </p><p>And yes it indeed is worth fighting for. </p><p> </p><p><br></p><p><br></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-70462851995272934052022-05-17T11:23:00.005+05:302022-05-17T11:23:54.723+05:30A2Z Challenge: H is for Haan Main Galat<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"></span><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><b>हाँ मैं गलत,</b></span></span></span><br />
<span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b>गलत मेरी बातें , गलती से ही दुनिया बनी </b></span></span><br />
<span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b>पूरा सही कोई नहीं, ले ले मेरी चेतावनी </b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
</span><br />
<span jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">(Yes, I make mistakes</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I am often on the wrong track, this world is made because of many mistakes</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">No one is completely correct, Take my warning)</span></span><br />
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<span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">This</span><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> song has two interpretations in my parenting story. </span></span><br />
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<span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">One is which, I as a parent would want to tell my children that no one really knows what to do in this life. None of us really are aware of how to navigate this life. We all make mistakes and that it is okay to do that- make mistakes. This world came to be so because of these mistakes- mine, yours and ours.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBHjTmsEMyiGbqJfLi_Bg8kduuqy-UgKpCW90rbAHmt6QSbwWf-8y4lFhYnvk4fb40sgL7752ItYWKrHGD4fqAt-yVEd_Tzqrxj966vh9wdob25JmjH2c1qxzkO1aEkGUaLzndwQ/s1600/eye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBHjTmsEMyiGbqJfLi_Bg8kduuqy-UgKpCW90rbAHmt6QSbwWf-8y4lFhYnvk4fb40sgL7752ItYWKrHGD4fqAt-yVEd_Tzqrxj966vh9wdob25JmjH2c1qxzkO1aEkGUaLzndwQ/s1600/eye.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Then there is the line of thinking that my (or rather all the kids everywhere in the world) children would presume. The one that every child knows well in her heart till the time she becomes a parent- that their parents are wrong, mistaken and (maybe) foolish. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">But I think we all agree that making mistakes is important and natural. Life is full of them and any life which isn't full of mistakes might be a very short-lived one or might be similar to the pot without the holes. If you have heard the story you will get the reference, else in short here it is:</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">A man carries two pots to fetch water everyday. One pot is intact and the other one has some holes. Finding the pot with holes sad, he asks it the reason for the long face. The pot says that it regrets not being fully useful to its owner as because of the holes it is able to deliver very little amount of water finally. The man laughs and tells this pot to look beyond its shortcomings and see the beautiful flowers blooming on the side on which it is brought home. Because of the holes it has watered the plants that have bloomed and made the path prettier.</span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP7iNdRBeztx-mYQpzvPh1BPUtWh7G45IqrmHeWfl8Z2iQIKCzy4YUEs5FXqM6xpZ3m55jGe8SDm7Mx-duXeM9tc2JsLvWO78lXJ4n69IFu57wCLQ10yE7MBp6St0EaOqhX7PBTQ/s1600/mistake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP7iNdRBeztx-mYQpzvPh1BPUtWh7G45IqrmHeWfl8Z2iQIKCzy4YUEs5FXqM6xpZ3m55jGe8SDm7Mx-duXeM9tc2JsLvWO78lXJ4n69IFu57wCLQ10yE7MBp6St0EaOqhX7PBTQ/s1600/mistake.jpg" /></a><span style="background-color: white;"><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span jsname="YS01Ge" style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">This is one of my favourite stories that I often think about. My mistakes also hit me and make me cringe out of nowhere at least a couple of times in a day. And so I want to teach my children this very important lesson that it is okay to make mistakes and give yourself a chance to learn from them. I am not sure how the lesson integration works. It is said that experience keeps a dear school but fools learn at their own expense. Hard to say who is what, no?</span></span><br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-11659586562686668352022-05-17T11:23:00.004+05:302022-05-17T11:23:46.749+05:30A2Z Challenge: G is (not really) for Gazab Ka Hai Din<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGMy4Ns5fEaIIypmKvvRGAeu6ts_qg-Oya6QmAmDYNDEo5xx5VBhVxUXGblzxBfVou4tvSoL9uoHucUob4FhAHsEg4moRNK11isa_ytDKegcdfO2EZ43wVb5J2EJUlZ1iHRQxtag/s1600/qsqt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGMy4Ns5fEaIIypmKvvRGAeu6ts_qg-Oya6QmAmDYNDEo5xx5VBhVxUXGblzxBfVou4tvSoL9uoHucUob4FhAHsEg4moRNK11isa_ytDKegcdfO2EZ43wVb5J2EJUlZ1iHRQxtag/s1600/qsqt.jpg" /></a><strike>गज़ब का है दिन देखो ज़रा </strike><br />
<strike>ये दीवानापन सोचो ज़रा </strike><br />
<strike>हम भी अकेले, तुम भी अकेले </strike><br />
<strike>मज़ा आ रहा है , कसम से </strike><br />
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<strike>(Look, what a fabulous day it is</strike><br />
<strike>WE are alone We are enjoying, By God!)</strike><br />
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<i>It was a nice balmy afternoon during the lockdown days. He looked at her with anticipation. She smiled. A kiss lingered in the air. But the next moment anguished cries rose from another corner of the house. Soon it seemed that a battle had been launched and the two of them were summoned back to the reality of being parents. </i><br />
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Have you ever lived out this horror story?<br />
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Today's song choice made itself clearer to me just last night. It wasn't as if I haven't known this truth for the past few years since the boy made an entry but nothing could have made it as crystal clear as what happened last night.<br />
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And to think of it now, what happened really wasn't all that different or revolutionary from everyday that I should have suffered this revelation just now in life.<br />
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Yesterday, by chance I managed to finish all the household chores and duties by 8.30 pm . everyone had been fed and kitchen closed for the day, things had gone back to their original place and so on. The husband called it a day and went off to sleep. I gave my children what I hoped would be the last stern look for the day and sat down with a book. I intended to read at least for an hour. I had kept my laptop handy just in case inspiration struck and I was also quite sure that it would.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPolNwBKByW_OSu4IcTRjTLHtvtPJDtI9XngeyAWJF8jspBedjs7oLoX90MR7BaVU_KTmnv6gFv1UDkWS65aCBJK3tDQZ6LWFZU9_EiTgw7Wa0QP3rHKtfj2_oaiVBtmQlhSbvA/s1600/caco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="189" data-original-width="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPolNwBKByW_OSu4IcTRjTLHtvtPJDtI9XngeyAWJF8jspBedjs7oLoX90MR7BaVU_KTmnv6gFv1UDkWS65aCBJK3tDQZ6LWFZU9_EiTgw7Wa0QP3rHKtfj2_oaiVBtmQlhSbvA/s1600/caco.jpg" /></a></div>
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Five silent minutes must have passed when it seemed as if hell seemed to break. The children who hadn't yet been sent to bed and were each doing their own activity under my nose had found something to fight about. It wasn't the usual fight where they just hit each other, mimic and then make up after 10 rough seconds. This time they were baring their teeth at each other. The younger one was baying for his sister's blood who he said had messed the puzzle he was making. The elder one was ready to charge at him with the ferocity of a bull who had seen red. I don't remember her grouse.<br />
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To cut a long story short, my hour of peaceful reading went into calming them down soothing them and then making me sleep. By the time they had slept I was too tired to do anything else and so all my dreams of reading and inspired writing were thwarted.<br />
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This dear reader is quite normal. <b>I have found that adages like: when you have two children, you are no more than a referee and I can't hear myself think in my house- are absolute truths. It seems that I can never find quiet in this house. the house that is supposed to be a refuge, a sanctuary sounds often like a the set of a live TV show with my son's panache for a background score. If he is playing with cars, there is a vrroomm vrrooomm sound accompanying the screech of the tyres, if it is cricket then a running commentary is on and if he is just jumping on beds and sofas then the musical score of a cartoon show plays. God forbid, if my children, 7 years apart, get into an argument about who has eaten more cookies during the day, the shrills and trills could wake up the whole village. </b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvtiVgaCJDDSRfn7Z2SNJ_Dj5qkGCXSmqiFHrIh6qbn0arzEDBFayoGwpQuqx7luWCFytqnRVCrK1AjAcclZWKPBJkXOLKvMHjdSDr4F4sw5axoDLofl56o8PZ8dfNIrQpTXD_g/s1600/cACO1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvtiVgaCJDDSRfn7Z2SNJ_Dj5qkGCXSmqiFHrIh6qbn0arzEDBFayoGwpQuqx7luWCFytqnRVCrK1AjAcclZWKPBJkXOLKvMHjdSDr4F4sw5axoDLofl56o8PZ8dfNIrQpTXD_g/s1600/cACO1.png" /></a></div>
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The gist of the matter is that we never find ourselves alone to do couple-y things. We are always surrounded by a cacophony which makes it hard for us to think of things to say and rational choices to make. So if you were to come visit us and hear some nonsense, or meet me on the road and I make some unintelligent remark about trivial things then know that I might have forgotten to put my thoughts in order.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-13858338097811373892022-05-17T11:23:00.003+05:302022-05-17T11:23:38.375+05:30A2Z Challenge: F is for Fikar Karein Fukrey<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Don't you think our Bollywood lyricist have been secretly dispensing top notch life secrets subtly (and at times not so subtly) via these songs? Consider today's choice:<br />
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<b>दुनिया फिरंगी स्यापा है, फ़िक्र ही गम दा पापा है </b><br />
<b>अपना तो बस यही जापा है, फ़िक्र करें फुकरे </b><br />
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<b>(The world is a foreign nightmare, worry fathers sadness</b><br />
<b>This is our only motto, only pretentious people worry)</b><br />
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Or consider this gem<br />
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जेबों में रख ले यारा, कंघी हैं तरकीबें<br />
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Anyway, much about the greatness of Bollywood, you must have noticed that I have taken a creative license today and not started today's song with the exact alphabet but this phrase '<i style="font-weight: bold;">Fikr hi gham da papa hai' </i>has since I heard it, stuck a chord with me. How true it is that we worry and we invite sadness! Long back I wrote a <a href="https://aanandika.blogspot.com/2013/08/worrying-about-chicken.html" target="_blank">poem</a> about the little things I worry about.<br />
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And I, at least have begun to worry too much about my daughter who exhibits certain worrisome qualities. This is really an offshoot of what I wrote yesterday but today I want to pour out what that inane worrying does to my relationship with her. Worrying is futile. One realises this as one grows up and moves along life, seeing that certain things happen exactly the way you had worriedly wanted them not to happen.<br />
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When I worry incessantly about how my kid is going to turn out or how she might get harshly treated because of her soft nature, I am maybe forgetting the fact that as a parent I do not really know how my child survives/ fights her battles when I am not around. I do not have a macro viewpoint. <b>I am seeing too closely and finding faults, because that is what I am looking for-the lacunae- that I have somehow convinced myself to look for ,to see and remedy before she goes out to face the world without me.</b><br />
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But she is already doing that and surviving quite well. She spends 6-7 hours in the school where I am not present nor do I have any control on what happens. She again spends 2-3 hours in the playground with strangers, her friends and acquaintances, and I do not know everything about those interactions as well.<br />
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In my bid to fill the lacunae I see in her persona, I try to give her the taste of the world's harshness. I have, over the years realised, that it is absolutely wrong. <b>I don't have to teach my child that world will treat her badly. I have to give her the comfort and knowledge that whatever might happen, I and our home are her refuge. Even if the world treats her badly, we are not going to judge her for the calls she takes. We are not going to make her guilty for living her truth. </b><br />
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But in my.constant worry I forget to do that. I rather cause bitterness and sadness in both our hearts giving myself the solace that at least she would be prepared for nasty, even if she feels mad at me for the moment.<br />
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And I see how wrong it is to believe that. <b>Children are meant to be loved. Unquestionably, irrevocably. their tender hearts need protection and not exposure.</b> We are not supposed to teach them any lessons in how life is going to treat them and we make a big mistake thinking that that is the foremost task of being a parent. <b>I am to be the support structure. The bamboo base tied with grass rope that sways because she is a person after all but then when the moment of forgetfulness of this fact passes can still be sturdy.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlRleYmWDE4SnhfBm7n5Krly47Nl12fSLA40-eoXvhvkVRjxTf2zky_E8auvyOU4TX5PCIwjJ1HSMaYiUVXwc9OGGf3lWlsyVWtyujM4mwb-6eODWkk1kUpk2s6fBWhPgAO5RJQ/s1600/love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlRleYmWDE4SnhfBm7n5Krly47Nl12fSLA40-eoXvhvkVRjxTf2zky_E8auvyOU4TX5PCIwjJ1HSMaYiUVXwc9OGGf3lWlsyVWtyujM4mwb-6eODWkk1kUpk2s6fBWhPgAO5RJQ/s1600/love.jpg" /></a></div>
To somehow teach them lessons and prepare them for what might come their way. Though I am still trying to find out where I stand on preparedness but I have made my peace with the fact that I am not too teach them any lessons. <br />
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So though I still do the fikar (worry) but knowing that it will father to sadness and because I am no show off I don't let my worries worry me. Also reading this<a href="https://aanandika.blogspot.com/2019/11/book-review-is-worry-worrying-you-by.html" target="_blank"> wonderful book</a> helped.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjYDfXPEHo6zBJnaWau2u4Ip6a91GEOe5nz8jWf0vA6SRbADbQAfIluWBT_xgPtcXpPdvezwjWULpWBD-d24NA37MhyphenhyphencW02xc-sKt9XGEePS3j9M3NA-_VPuYXZnIxsTINXeKgA/s1600/book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjYDfXPEHo6zBJnaWau2u4Ip6a91GEOe5nz8jWf0vA6SRbADbQAfIluWBT_xgPtcXpPdvezwjWULpWBD-d24NA37MhyphenhyphencW02xc-sKt9XGEePS3j9M3NA-_VPuYXZnIxsTINXeKgA/s1600/book.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-34008651153609301332022-05-17T11:23:00.002+05:302022-05-17T11:23:27.825+05:30A2Z Challenge: E is for Every breath you take<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; line-height: 1.58; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">Every breath you take and every move you make</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Every bond you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Every single day and every word you say</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Every game you play, every night you stay, I'll be watching you</span></span></b></div>
<div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="line-height: 1.58; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Though the song totally sounds creepy, doesn't this really sum up our lives as mothers. <i>Also because of the similarity in the E and I sound I chose to go with this song </i></span></span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34);"><i>instead of any other Hindi song.</i></span></span></span></div>
<div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="line-height: 1.58; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;">So back to the topic.</span></div>
<div class="ujudUb" jsname="U8S5sf" style="line-height: 1.58; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: white;">Mothers are by default negative creatures, I feel. </b><span style="background-color: white;">I look at my </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYkY6a4Ab1_8b9Sosnqezvc72pupHWZPUY_q45uGstn0CwHbGHFFG7FXxXd-_5DYjlFFxyyxZwRBuJ4dICc6IJGpYI6aBOBzrwzNfR-BHdHKqsAiZDShsqL8JReLRKnBVDaaIS8g/s1600/IMG_3835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYkY6a4Ab1_8b9Sosnqezvc72pupHWZPUY_q45uGstn0CwHbGHFFG7FXxXd-_5DYjlFFxyyxZwRBuJ4dICc6IJGpYI6aBOBzrwzNfR-BHdHKqsAiZDShsqL8JReLRKnBVDaaIS8g/s320/IMG_3835.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></span></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">daughter and think of ways in which she will mess up her life because she doesn't fold her clothes exactly the way they had been folded when they were sold </span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">to us. I see my son jumping and prancing on the sofa and nod my head in utter distress thinking about his future in which I see him as a street dancer. <b>It takes special effort for me to dispel such negative thoughts and remind myself that they are just children doing children-y things.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">That she will learn to pick after herself, fold the laundry and maybe back cupcakes that she has been meaning to bake since day 1 of the lockdown and that he will probably turn his energies into becoming a cricketer or a soldier. </span></span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS0ytgt6Zapb5sO-C6KXK0FNMVqsdhSlu_2INfvUug4NJ4BmDrMV1Z6nqGNpy49vzI98fGp3H_wnLwQLHTTTMcRVroONDIVygJWnpM4OoxA9CbrrXtEZEFjZ2T_VkiwGEQm-SY9A/s1600/2015-05-14+17.31.29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS0ytgt6Zapb5sO-C6KXK0FNMVqsdhSlu_2INfvUug4NJ4BmDrMV1Z6nqGNpy49vzI98fGp3H_wnLwQLHTTTMcRVroONDIVygJWnpM4OoxA9CbrrXtEZEFjZ2T_VkiwGEQm-SY9A/s320/2015-05-14+17.31.29.jpg" width="212" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: large;">I am tempted to check my daughter's phone (which she thinks is password protected by the way! *smirk smirk*), I am tempted to linger for five minutes more after handing her the device, outside the room when a friend telephones and by God I am tempted (pre & I am sure will be post the lockdown) </span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: large;">to go down to play with her bunch of friends in the evening just to know what are her chums up to. In fact, because the </span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: large;">children are in the house I am liking it more because they are with me. Mind you, not under my nose or anything but simply with me, in the house, where I know they are absolutely safe. I know that here no one can say or do something to them which I can't heal. The opposite scenario, when they are out in the big, bad world has given me sleepless nights. Yes, if you have read so far you can now label me as a psycho mom. But in my defence I was not much aware of such protective feelings before the <a href="https://aanandika.blogspot.com/2008/12/worrisome-worries.html" target="_blank">Taj blasts </a>so maybe we can blame Kasab and party.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;">I know my mother still worries about me. Not just about my health (I think she might have given up on that one after my lackadaisical attitude over the years) but about my mental health, physical health, my interactions with friends and family, my relationship with my kids and so on and so forth. </span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: white;">Now she rarely gives voice to her concerns because I would often make fun of her worrisome nature often but as my own children grow and spend more and more time out of the house and away from me, I think it is payback time and so</b></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: white;"><span jsname="YS01Ge">Every single day and every word you say</span><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge">Every game you play, every night you stay, I'll be watching you</span></i></span></span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-31529389496047193182022-05-17T11:23:00.001+05:302022-05-17T11:23:18.869+05:30A2Z Challenge : B for Bawra Mann <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">बांवरा मन राह ताके तरसे रे </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">नैना भी मल्हार बन के बरसे रे </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Would you know of any parent, who. hasn't cried because of the children? No, not for the children, not as in missing them or worrying about them or riddled-with-anxiety-about-them-crying But crying, may be not really the physical act but the act of exasperation in which you don't know what to do or in which your emotional dam has burst open and you can't wait for the spousal entity to come and take them off your hands.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you haven't ever then I would like to meet you. Please book me a return plane ticket to your address as soon as Corona permits.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHcBQFMgR0ITbwjcrpcmp3Ujhi0Whf7h8Y1JCrNv4VXuDNQPOH73ODcFGXPYFaYEKNubnjT0PiaeKsmIGD2MfpY53B_k0l_5NDSsSaMLjWBadDn-LU7woehDLByjdXEo64jrunDw/s1600/spouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="184" data-original-width="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHcBQFMgR0ITbwjcrpcmp3Ujhi0Whf7h8Y1JCrNv4VXuDNQPOH73ODcFGXPYFaYEKNubnjT0PiaeKsmIGD2MfpY53B_k0l_5NDSsSaMLjWBadDn-LU7woehDLByjdXEo64jrunDw/s1600/spouse.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">If you have then, I dedicate today's song to you. Young mothers and </span><span style="font-size: large;">fathers, accidental parents, experienced mums and dads, wherever you might be in your parenting journey, there are times when you are just about at the end of your rope. </span><b><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, I am saying this loud and clear as much as we love our children, it can be one t(c)rying and tiring job</span>. </b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Who knows it better than a young mum whose mental health comes under duress before she learns from her own or someone else's experience that every notion about raising the perfect child flies out of the window as soon as a child appears in her lap!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRHnhLFKLHzmZM-LICxUuezXcl6EZZDBLy_AIcMAYigx6rIix1Ob3xYGTgjElUrQq1fF9eQzHEZWCVfxGLDd3T7XRWO-Dfx7NUbdc2nSHUgmhliRUcyR7Ctf4SgPMZAd55A532FA/s1600/kid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRHnhLFKLHzmZM-LICxUuezXcl6EZZDBLy_AIcMAYigx6rIix1Ob3xYGTgjElUrQq1fF9eQzHEZWCVfxGLDd3T7XRWO-Dfx7NUbdc2nSHUgmhliRUcyR7Ctf4SgPMZAd55A532FA/s1600/kid.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Staying with a child all day long, taking care of her and not really knowing much about it, seeing tricks working for others, leading to disastrous results for you, yelling, shouting at them (even when they can hardly comprehend what you are saying to them, what to talk of when they can very well do understand, but can't help being children) can take a toll on even the most experienced parent. <b>Those are the times when you need your spouse to come and take charge because you need to put some physical distance between you and the little one.</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAkQHBU3erlmQBRrByU0mr5lo3JsAFNFSIs1NU28uNXSvP_6-Gyn2Pt5ABoYvVHHuhUd0NKxmJOgKVcMeX7GOn0EFQzorKCvL0IGI2FgF2CF7AF0TV6Nma940qCh_epxfEbh7ZA/s1600/baby1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAkQHBU3erlmQBRrByU0mr5lo3JsAFNFSIs1NU28uNXSvP_6-Gyn2Pt5ABoYvVHHuhUd0NKxmJOgKVcMeX7GOn0EFQzorKCvL0IGI2FgF2CF7AF0TV6Nma940qCh_epxfEbh7ZA/s320/baby1.jpg" width="312" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hats off to every spouse who steps in and steps up during this moment. That one who can understand that this isn't about the inability or lack of experience on the part of his/ her partner but the nature of the job which comes without any handbook. The one who sees his wife at the doorstep with the child in her arms ready to make a dash as soon he takes the child off her. Or the one who at the end of her shift is groggy with sleep but will not frown at the suggestion of a biggie break-in the early hours of the day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">You are the one who was being awaited like no one ever has been!</span><br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-62563460763868793382022-05-17T11:23:00.000+05:302022-05-17T11:23:10.823+05:30A2Z Challenge: D is for DJ Waley Babu<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>DJ वाले बाबू मेरा गाना चला दो </b><br />
<b>DJ वाले बाबू मेरा गाना चला दो </b><br />
<b>DJ वाले बाबू मेरा गाना चला दो </b><br />
<b>गाना चला दो, गाना चला दो </b><br />
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The boy aka Cutlet Kumar had put in an appearance in to our lives by September 2014. By the time this song came out in 2015, he had begun to sit by himself and wriggle his hips. He has forever had a ear for music but when this song came up on TV he would just go mad. <b>In whatever way he could communicate, he would ask for the song be played and then move enthusiastically to it. </b><br />
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This boy I tell you, is different. You know how they say that we are all made up of stardust. I do truly believe that he is from a far superior grade of material. Do you think I might be biased? Might be. Just a little bit. Abir is extremely alive. More alive than I have ever seen people or even kids to be. I don't really know how to explain it but I can see it when he is paying attention, when he is listening closely.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnSnPneyufeIUm9DRiZKNd7GC7gwDUnrSX9_h-Y3T_u52gkqeaPFJpDRwK5W1L5GlNPnaETYQBrt2JQjp_CDVffD_FSlKLb3mWlw2M4kaUIUcIcAY6_JFJ9da56jHqZy3tDc7nbw/s1600/DSC_0099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnSnPneyufeIUm9DRiZKNd7GC7gwDUnrSX9_h-Y3T_u52gkqeaPFJpDRwK5W1L5GlNPnaETYQBrt2JQjp_CDVffD_FSlKLb3mWlw2M4kaUIUcIcAY6_JFJ9da56jHqZy3tDc7nbw/s320/DSC_0099.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
While he can be all adorable and amazing, he can also be a brat! He doesn't let me talk to my mother over a phone call indwell try to jump on to my head if we are on a video call, in an attempt to finish the call sooner. <b>He will not let go of a thing till the time the whole family has succumbed to his wishes. </b>He will upturn his lower lip or pout and let me know that I have upset him somehow. And very often he will ask for a certain loud number to be played over and over again and jump on the well made beds and pull all the sofa cushions on the floor and call it dancing.<br />
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He has now forgotten the DJ wale babu song and moved on to newer ones like Chalti Hai Kya Nau Se Baara and Aankh Maare but his enthusiasm remains unbound and I hope it continues to be like that forever. </div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-29516336225165926322022-05-17T11:22:00.000+05:302022-05-17T11:22:58.447+05:30A2Z: Parenting Ki Kahani Hindi Gaanon Ke Zubani (A)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">Just now the relevance of doing a theme reveal, revealed itself to me. But such is life and so am I. Everything in retrospect.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So without much ado and coming back to the present here is something of revelation about my chosen theme. I am a big Bollywood fan. Music has played a big role in my life, at times as an accompaniment to joyous moments and at others as the background score to disastrous decisions and bad moods. I can always hear it playing. If you ask my friends I have always had a song for the moment we are in. And so using that super ability, I am going to attempt 26 posts. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Lekin, picture abhi baki hai dost!</i> Music is set but what about the script? The screenplay, if I may, is the parenting years with their ups and downs, the tears, sweat and blood I shed and hugs, kisses and laughter that I gained.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">आगे भी जाने न तू, पीछे भी जाने न तू </span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>जो भी है बस यही एक पल है </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have been a mother for 12 years now. With my two children, a girl of 12 and a boy of 5 years of age, I have been often told how fortunate I am in getting a taste of bringing up both the genders. But what these people do not probably know is that though I might be considered fortunate, I have just about no idea of what I am doing. Hence, the choice of the song.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_65s3Ino_NbHKNbQo7okeWqjVfaE8HyFNatvyV7vW-R7j3llVg2E1wLZ3Gok-YpCBDnk9vAZ3PjBNTtkFPsiuIjTEjGPkYRn8VQmrxkUQEKSd_fdV-eKc23M4J0DBxBJT6dFK0Q/s1600/IMG-20151031-WA0021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_65s3Ino_NbHKNbQo7okeWqjVfaE8HyFNatvyV7vW-R7j3llVg2E1wLZ3Gok-YpCBDnk9vAZ3PjBNTtkFPsiuIjTEjGPkYRn8VQmrxkUQEKSd_fdV-eKc23M4J0DBxBJT6dFK0Q/s400/IMG-20151031-WA0021.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>After years of struggling to perfect my 'P' game, I have realised the truth in the second line of the verse. </b>I haven't yet met anyone, a parent of any age, who has any idea about the game rules we all seem to be playing. What the many I consider as my gurus, do realise, is that it is the moment that matters. <b>What you do in the present moment with your child- how you look at them, how you speak to them and how you make them feel, among other things- in the present moment is all that matters. </b></span><b><br /></b>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLrKJG0OzASlEe-deI7lTychYbnEUHxp9YivKE9H8JTD8G2VHPNzqNDGBb6jGPV8_FbVSWz5BIVigw7Yp9J-d8pGUYRXMm-G82m2OMQL0mObq-v8ncsLXpn5go7ewcoWOXqdQ3zA/s1600/IMG_20190513_220617.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLrKJG0OzASlEe-deI7lTychYbnEUHxp9YivKE9H8JTD8G2VHPNzqNDGBb6jGPV8_FbVSWz5BIVigw7Yp9J-d8pGUYRXMm-G82m2OMQL0mObq-v8ncsLXpn5go7ewcoWOXqdQ3zA/s320/IMG_20190513_220617.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">The P game, unlike other games people play, is not one that gets over within a few years. It is a lifelong thing and yet what matters the most is the present moment. A very catch me if you can kind of logic, riht?! <b>Children, you see are very generous. They forgive (and I hope forget) what you did not know</b>. They are willing to give you a chance to redeem yourself at every next opportunity, every next moment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And so my friends, take this from a mother who has been at it for sometime now, </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">आगे भी जाने न तू, पीछे भी जाने न तू </span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>जो भी है बस यही एक पल है </b></span><br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-46667302047266342462022-01-31T21:43:00.005+05:302022-01-31T21:43:56.844+05:30Book Review: The Beast and The Bethany: Revenge of the Beast by Jack Meggitt-Phillips <p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Feeling grumpy? Feeling lost? Feeling happy or just planning on having a do-good day?</span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhe4yZ7-8SpUt1Hzl5T1hlKtwv_fVx6dBDw77PC-gpuB33SWBJRNj6eWWl6CYbMylFS_dEhDUevOKqO3E1kCZ99n7wxz-sXB3fDtzk9aaVbaqw5YOSJZtiIoNSRdyaXrOj0sjdg9g7zjGid0BgdaJqPsj1XLwjAmxXnmlgmmc6j81ikMx_3HKM=s1600" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhe4yZ7-8SpUt1Hzl5T1hlKtwv_fVx6dBDw77PC-gpuB33SWBJRNj6eWWl6CYbMylFS_dEhDUevOKqO3E1kCZ99n7wxz-sXB3fDtzk9aaVbaqw5YOSJZtiIoNSRdyaXrOj0sjdg9g7zjGid0BgdaJqPsj1XLwjAmxXnmlgmmc6j81ikMx_3HKM=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><p>Whatever you might be going through, <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jack Meggitt-Phillips' </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The Beast and The Bethany: Revenge of the Beast, will put you in just the right spirits. This is a sequel to the amazingly well written book<a href="https://aanandika.blogspot.com/2020/09/book-review-beast-and-bethany-by-jack.html" target="_blank"> The Beast and The Bethany</a> (obviously!) in which we meet both these characters and other important members of the cast and crew like the 511-year-old Ebenzer who has a penchant for a good life and kept the Beast in his attic. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"> He would feed the Beast all manner of objects and creatures and in return the Beast would vomit up expensive presents for him. But then the Bethany arrived.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-e9608418-7fff-249a-6337-871e7e0cae40"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But after the arrival of notorious prankster Bethany, along with her new feathery friend Claudette, they finally managed to get rid off the Beast. Now Bethany is determined that she and Ebenezer are going to de-beast their lives and Do Good. But Bethany finds that being a former prankster makes it hard to get taken on for voluntary work. And Ebenezer secretly misses the Beast’s gifts. And neither of them are all that sure what “good people” do anyway!</span><span style="color: #202020; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="color: #202020; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then there’s Claudette, the parrot, who’s not been feeling herself recently. Has she eaten something that has disagreed with her?</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p></span><p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Can you already see me clapping my hands with sheer excitement? May be this time around again I got more excited than my now 14 and 7 year olds who had earlier read the book with me in 2020. Also I am honoured to be part of the f</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">irst day of the ultimate blog tour for this fab sequel with the very fantastic Dave and gang of <b><a href="https://twitter.com/The_WriteReads" target="_blank">The Write Reads</a>.</b></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>So back to the book!!</b></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>I loved the first one and i loovvvvedddd this one. AND so did my kids. Both of them. Both the books. What are the chances!</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #404040;"><span style="background-color: white;">The story was full of twists and turns. It kept us hooked right through the freezing nights here in our part of India which has got the worst winters in years. Phillips writes with a flair for the dramatic ( NO wonder his </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">work has been performed at The Roundhouse and featured on Radio 4! I can almost imagine him doing a </span><span style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">pirouette as he writes one engaging scene after the other. Don't ask me why. I am told that in his head he believes himself to be a ballroom dancer. Yes I know pirouettes are associated with Ballet.) </span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Err...maybe its just an after effect of de-beasting but I am not feeling like myself!</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">So on with the review. </span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Hmmm it was very interesting to learn Ebenzer's back story and how he came in possession of the Beast. The next very interesting thing was Claudette's evolution. Into what you ask. Well for that you will have to read the hugely entertaining </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Beast and The Bethany: Revenge of the Beast.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-57607575525143433122021-11-13T11:23:00.015+05:302021-11-13T11:54:34.341+05:30Book Review: I Am Winter by Denise Brown<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvw2zWmOlnfZAcIwlRX03p2I61hdqB-QB-eRkHnSOuG6OlW9qJSxH_0d5Dyga-K6z1TiF3nfihPu9uAaKxfh72yGNSUyp9gxcWfd1M3sWJ1FVR8hc0J792vOkAiVbe1kwin5x8RQ/s475/winter.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="314" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvw2zWmOlnfZAcIwlRX03p2I61hdqB-QB-eRkHnSOuG6OlW9qJSxH_0d5Dyga-K6z1TiF3nfihPu9uAaKxfh72yGNSUyp9gxcWfd1M3sWJ1FVR8hc0J792vOkAiVbe1kwin5x8RQ/w212-h320/winter.jpg" width="212" /></a></span></div><span font-family:="" georgia="" merriweather="" serif="">Summer and Cee are neighbours and growing up in the vicinity have become best friends. In fact, Summer actually looks up to Cee. She also has a secret crush on Cee's brother. </span><p></p><p><span georgia="" merriweather="" serif="">One day in an attempt to have a little fun, the girls get into a car with a couple of boys and take some pills. The car meets with an accidents and Cee dies from a cardiac arrest. Summer is devastated by the loss of her best friend. She feels guilty as well to be alive instead of Cee who she thought had the zest for life. Gradually the social media begins to turn into a bullying ground which begins to torment and trouble Summer. Adding to her woes, the townspeople also start bullying Summer making her life miserable.<b> </b>How Summer lives through these testing times and how she comes out on the other side of this avalanche of feelings is what comprises the story.</span></p><p><span font-family:="" georgia="" merriweather="" serif="">The author writes Summer's story quite emphatically. Summer's pain as a young adult who has lost the one person, they thought knew them inside out, is palpable through I Am Winter. Brown has worked hard on making sure that you experience bullying in this work of fiction and feel its impact on the bullied. An applause worthy attempt to make sure that if any reader of I am Winter is ever tempted so, Summer's story might prevent them from taking that path.</span></p><p><span><sp font-family:="" georgia="" merriweather="" serif="">The other characters are done well too. I find the stories which are able to see the grays always more stirring.We are all results of our circumstances. They shape us and drive us to act the way we do. But that can never be an excuse to change or control vile things that bubble within us.</sp></span></p><b always="" and="" are="" attempts="" contribute="" down.="" ee="" face="" father="" grandparents="" gt="" her="" how="" immensely="" manages="" mother="" mum="" nbsp="" of="" on="" p="" periphery="" pull="" s="" society="" step="" story="" style="font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;" summer="" the="" though="" to="" yet=""><span font-family:="" georgia="" merriweather="" serif="">This YA novel has my heart and Summer and Brown, all my love.</span></b> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-29038649111586823822021-09-02T06:53:00.000+05:302021-09-02T06:53:54.310+05:30Obituary for the delhiwalla<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Aanandika Sood today breathed her last in the house that she had always seen in her dreams. The house was bustling with activity as her children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews and their children played games, danced and chatted about life and its meangeries, all of which she had been witnessing intently. She had eaten her fill of the fruits of the season and had been humming 'Hum bekhudi main tumko pukare chale gaye.'</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-48519586831625225682021-08-30T05:50:00.000+05:302021-08-30T05:50:01.755+05:30Book Review: The Secret Life of Debbie G by Vibha Batra and Kalyani Ganpathy<p><br />The Secret Life of Debbie G is the story of a teen girl named Soundarya. Her family and friends of course make for the rest of the cast of characters. But that is not the information that would want you to pick this book up and zip through it. Vibha Batra and Kalyani Ganpathy have created #agraphicnovel that is a coming of age story. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIGKXrX66gVKnoTgyeYjcJ1v5g3QJoBeuNYadwSQ1v5iHypAfSsFwkvdTRYHOp_rleddso7qOi5aGt4r58-DCCyioyW-UAmnmU0buhyphenhyphenxPQnXh_G5FOHTzKtrVzOfKSLKqh2syqxA/s400/debbie.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="310" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIGKXrX66gVKnoTgyeYjcJ1v5g3QJoBeuNYadwSQ1v5iHypAfSsFwkvdTRYHOp_rleddso7qOi5aGt4r58-DCCyioyW-UAmnmU0buhyphenhyphenxPQnXh_G5FOHTzKtrVzOfKSLKqh2syqxA/s320/debbie.jpeg" width="248" /></a></div><p></p><p>The book is very important in the number of topics it manages to bring to the fore. The writer and the illustrator have dared bring the topics generally swept under the carpet, out into the open. </p><p>What's more, with Debbie G's help and with that of the social media they have laid these bare and out in the open for everyone to pick up and examine with a lens of their choosing. Still, as you progress with the story you do realise that judgments are easy to pass especially at the younger lot who are just beginning to explore this world that adults before them have muddled up. As a mum of a teenager the book gave me a perspective on life as a teen in India.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-73695424657106013122021-08-26T22:57:00.006+05:302021-08-30T05:58:02.281+05:30What is love? A short handbook on how being in love/ relationship should make you feel<p>I have always known that the respect in any relationship matters utmost. There are other things like being seen and heard that are mandatory for a relationship to thrive but here are some ways I have realised to see it in simpler tangible things. Whatever the nature of relationship might be- romantic or platonic. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mgIqQn0Yhb9CH9sf4Ipb7m5R0bpl5KdJ5HxBdzMHXHpbSjgSLsbLKVVEKwpfUyx8s3Yzk7oOZVAdTBFXwUOStv6FmjhmXgI7jPjgArcT1yHcElMVljsUsKFrdChjcb0HxE07Lw/s2048/hannah-olinger-eNZayb-kkvE-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1367" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mgIqQn0Yhb9CH9sf4Ipb7m5R0bpl5KdJ5HxBdzMHXHpbSjgSLsbLKVVEKwpfUyx8s3Yzk7oOZVAdTBFXwUOStv6FmjhmXgI7jPjgArcT1yHcElMVljsUsKFrdChjcb0HxE07Lw/s320/hannah-olinger-eNZayb-kkvE-unsplash.jpg" width="214"></a></div><p>1. It should make you feel good about yourself. Very important. Non negotiable. Absolutely.</p><p>2. Also I don't think there is an accusatory tone in a healthy relationship</p><p>3. I think it should give you aspiration, some inspiration and not hold you back from wanting and expressing what you think you are</p><p><br></p><p>Some seriously good stuff from The Angry Therapist</p><p>1. Healthy feels like safety </p><p>2. You having the ability to express yourself and nothing is taken away. There are no consequences.</p><p>3. Held not grabbed</p><p>4. Supportive, encouraging and CHAMPIONING your story</p><p>5. Helps connect you to yourself</p><p>6. It should not hold you back from wanting something because you should be able to want whatever you want.</p><p><br></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-43204920798717355742021-08-24T18:57:00.007+05:302021-12-17T18:27:22.158+05:30To be loved<p> To be loved means to be seen as existing. </p><p>My friend Ruchi had shared a clip from Thich Nhat Hanh's interview being conducted by Oprah Winfrey in which I heard these words for the first time. It was a couple of years ago. </p><p>As soon as I heard him say this my whole world sort of lit up. </p><p>I have always struggled with the idea of love. I have never found a satisfactory answer from people who claim or who I have known to be in love. I have had this conversation with Ruchi also and I don't know if this in any way contributed to her sending me this particular message but despite our discussions on purpose, authenticity, love, karma- I have my doubts.</p><p>Well, anyway.</p><p>So back to love. I think I was set on this search for meaning of love, quite unwittingly by my younger sister. We were small kids in a village in Himachal Pradesh living the life that could only be imagined via Blyton's books. One day after being scolded by either of the parents she went on to stand on the extended ledge of out double storied house. I went after her and she asked me, "Why do we have to love our parents?"</p><p>I don't remember my answer but I am sure it must have been something related to being duty bound. But this set me out on a quest to define what it is to actually love. I went to college and then to study at the varsity. Met people at various stages of attraction, but still the big L eluded me. </p><p>I never went seeking it for myself maybe that's why. I always was an amused by-stander. My room mate at the university was a typical case. Completely, madly and thoroughly in love with a classmate of hers from school who had been selected to serve in the Army. I saw him knitting woollens for him and cry into her pillow when they were unable to speak on the phone for weeks altogether. I tried to understand from her what it made her feel- this love of hers for this guy. Did not get much from her and if she had said something during her teary hiccup-y intervals I might not have decoded it. Love dressed as infatuation is something that I found very interesting. Every second day, it could be a thrill! You could unabashedly dream on about the lethal mix that was of your own choosing.</p><p>In between I saw some power play while staying in a working womens' hostel and was told that this was also love. By then I had become distracted with my work and was thoroughly enjoying life as only a young professional could in the capital city with a bunch of girlfriends (one crazier than the other). A suitable match was found and this stint, the capital and the research- I left it all behind. I wasn't much concerned with love by now. </p><p>Married life with its ho-hum and drudgery engulfed years before the idea of seeking love resurfaced. Mind you, this time it wasn't just for research. This time I wanted to be loved but of course the problem remained with figuring out the what and how and why. </p><p>How was I to know that I am loved?</p><p>Why should I be loved?</p><p>What does it feel like to be loved?</p><p>For years nothing happened and then one day this video reached me, The moment I heard Thaya (Vieitnamese for teacher) say these words- To be loved means to be seen existing- my whole world was shaken. I think I unconsciously began to examine people in my life then, to decipher who actually saw me. I began to think of who had since that point in time accepted me for how I saw or knew myself. Of course friends and family were put under scrutiny unawares. I became very conscious of who wanted to change me with a pre-conceived notion of what I should be- as a person, as a wife, as a mother, as a daughter, a daughter-in-law. </p><p>I had always been a rebel without a cause but this time it seemed that I had found my just cause for rebelling against set standards and notions. I began to love myself and would now allow only that to matter. People who made me dislike, disapprove of myself were mostly on their way out. People who respected me for what I am- and I think I know to an extent what that is and how nice it is- were to get drenched in this love. </p><p>I hope my cause leads me from strength to strength and this I can teach my children to remember and apply to their lives and the lives of others who they encounter.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-72405816925159272002021-05-28T22:13:00.000+05:302021-05-28T22:13:33.588+05:30The Power of A Power Cut<p style="text-align: center;"><b><i>This post is brought to you by the cyclone Yaas, raging outside my window, shaking up the trees as if puppets and forcing rain to dance in every direction.</i></b></p><p>Did you stay in an area where power cuts weren't the norm?</p><p>Have you ever shuddered at the thought of an electricity cut?</p><p>Did you completely abhor the fact that when the lights went out, you had nothing and I mean absolutely nothing to do?</p><p>Well, well, well, save yourself the time and quit right here because this is an ode to the glory of windy or rainy days and rainy, windy and sultry nights when there would be a power cut, rendering the whole area, the whole house in darkness.</p><p>This is in praise of all the times when there would be an electricity cut in various cities I have lived. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxUdfIdI3YyvSDHW8kSvecCmUY7UUUoQTDZSbmlbAJfy9GvqdjrHWFcDPQMQkZUWyQbaKXqaXZd1weoLWh3Qc6Jq90oI4n2FZfPEyvmH7Qd8qvzeWCMrJWjreZwSB6VhnZAogHDw/s600/poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxUdfIdI3YyvSDHW8kSvecCmUY7UUUoQTDZSbmlbAJfy9GvqdjrHWFcDPQMQkZUWyQbaKXqaXZd1weoLWh3Qc6Jq90oI4n2FZfPEyvmH7Qd8qvzeWCMrJWjreZwSB6VhnZAogHDw/w400-h300/poster.jpg" width="400"></a></div><p>In Palampur that meant and if I am not wrong, till this day means, no electricity on Mondays from roughly 10 AM to 5 PM. </p><p>It also means that if there is hard rainfall or gusts of wind breaking the speedometer, the house might turn dark at any moment. </p><p>As a grown up you begin to get bothered by this. About meals not cooked or warmed before THAT DISASTER struck. Or about a mid-cycle load of laundry that will be sitting the whole day/night long in the washing machine. Or the preparation for a test or an exam. Or in case of this generation, maybe charging a device, missing out on a few hours of TV/ internet watching/ surfing.</p><p>On the other hand for some people this cut would mean a reprieve. A break from the monotony. A license to dream with your eyes open. An absolute giggle-worthy time for gossip, staring at the outer space or just at the wall or an object in front of you, to summon the spirits, or to crack your head over a puzzle.</p><p>This is what I remember vividly from the times when electricity cuts were a common occurrence and there were thankfully, no generators. I could be free of the obligatory studies. I could focus on staring at space. I was free to think and create stories upon stories. My sister specialised in case scenarios. The ones with the worst outcomes. Even diabolic, one would say( but could never guess from her cherubic face). </p><p>It was also the one and only occasion that I could be high handed in my house, provided our parents were out and the lights would flicker. This was the only occasion I could have all the revenge to my heart's content on my sister for being cleverer, stubborn and efficient and generally nice.</p><p>Weapon of my choice- what else- specially curated songs from Hindi suspense films of 50s, 60s and 70s. Think Gumnaam, Wo Kaun Thi?, Mera Saaya, Iteffaq, Dhund, Kohra, Madhumati, Bees Saal Baad (not the one starring Dimple..eeesh! What do you think of me? How dare you!)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoHNz6omhEcbV25JxUjwRU71XbPBcovd0zQfHk5dchkv8Y-BfQqS0smJPBGXsQXrXtgXUp-wxsMCxDsd9azUyuYx-ZAhh0gUAp7XhLJaop4AF4A2D3NxcSf_mxPGKJ-yX2ooUpxA/s350/power.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="313" data-original-width="350" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoHNz6omhEcbV25JxUjwRU71XbPBcovd0zQfHk5dchkv8Y-BfQqS0smJPBGXsQXrXtgXUp-wxsMCxDsd9azUyuYx-ZAhh0gUAp7XhLJaop4AF4A2D3NxcSf_mxPGKJ-yX2ooUpxA/w320-h227/power.jpeg" width="320"></a></div><p>When I went to study in Chandigarh the power cuts were an amazing time to roam around from door to door and getting everyone to come out into the main area in front of our hostel mess. It was also the time for sharing horror stories from your part of the country, personal experiences of spooky nature and of course, singing. Imagine a lot of girls set free during the night time when they should either be studying or sleeping, forced out of their rooms because of the summer heat. </p><p>Can you imagine the sense of jubilation in the singing?</p><p>I would go to my local guardian's house for spending weekends and this precious time would turn into sitting on the rooftops doing what we did best, sharing anecdotes, singing songs, weaving stories and dreaming about the future with our eyes open. The mosquitos were a bane but youth isn't really demanding that way. Swatting them, scratching our arms and legs, we would carry on chatting unfazed. </p><p>As much as of an old-timer this all might make me sound, I am sure, its just my old soul emitting a bluetooth signal searching for similar devices.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-81703133767582246792021-04-18T22:44:00.001+05:302021-04-18T22:44:10.388+05:30Audio Book Review: Flamingo Fashion by Samatha Hunter<p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORY8yh_EDo1P783cvco2nbyMDYmFTkll5vA8km6ND3XpdQZ_6xhcqA6kTXuMCNlO45LGOMeYG_HWKVuzeX6_CWSnpURo6BICjD5fY_No6-uqMEbXWw_xMRmQE0mwjXQRAWTA5TA/s2048/Flamingo+Fashion+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORY8yh_EDo1P783cvco2nbyMDYmFTkll5vA8km6ND3XpdQZ_6xhcqA6kTXuMCNlO45LGOMeYG_HWKVuzeX6_CWSnpURo6BICjD5fY_No6-uqMEbXWw_xMRmQE0mwjXQRAWTA5TA/w541-h372/Flamingo+Fashion+Cover.jpg" width="541" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><p>Flamingo Fashion is an audiobook written by Samantha Hunter and recorded in an impeccable style by Crown actor Michael Maloney. The very bright and nice cover for the audiobook has been illustrated by Maggy Roberts.</p></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It is an interesting book in itself as the author has chosen to publish it as an audiobook rather than go the traditional way. I would say that this has been a might good thing for me. We will find out how, just in a bit!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><u style="background-color: #ea9999;">More on the Book</u></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Flamingo Fashion is the story of two fashionistas. make that two fabulous fashionista flamingos Fiffi and Freddie. One fine day these two fine flamingo fashionistas decide to give the other residents of the Savanna a touch of their glamor. To find out who visits them and what do they manage to do for their clients and whether or not the clients are happy with the end result, you will have to download the book for yourself. The book is aimed at small children in the ages between 3 to 6 years but hey when has that ever stopped us from enjoying any book!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><u style="background-color: #ff00fe;">My review</u></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZl9GHx64GWTKek3h_g8niURukfkYLD7Jwq8yx9WuHqXSKlVcrO8zL1BSyR4FtB4zJ7rWJ3cfGSzIyIyVpjg9nhTS6bMcv0dbcjjx1xZxI35RJCTsjRq6wMke79eWzxO7U8nlBRg/s225/crown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZl9GHx64GWTKek3h_g8niURukfkYLD7Jwq8yx9WuHqXSKlVcrO8zL1BSyR4FtB4zJ7rWJ3cfGSzIyIyVpjg9nhTS6bMcv0dbcjjx1xZxI35RJCTsjRq6wMke79eWzxO7U8nlBRg/s0/crown.jpeg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The story is short and simple but is an absolute hoot. I listened to it along with my 13 year old and 6 year old and we all had something to take away from it. The story touches the theme of individual identity and how all of us have been created to serve a certain purpose. We come equipped to achieve it despite thinking that we aren't sufficient as we are. The language is simple. The delivery by Michael Maloney, the actor we have seen in the Netflix series The Crown, play the role of Edward Heath is just superb. The various characters of the book get an individual voice through Maloney and it is a delightful auditory experience. We giggled and giggled as we heard him lend his voice to one animal after the another. His range is truly impressive and well at display albeit the book is a short one. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><u style="background-color: #f4cccc;">About the author </u></b></span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf-sOvoz5i-7tUgEmZhP1C1hGXWUPtw636cuyhZYgk2omzVKUnKOISFJDw8JjSHXaRnuKA-JtXZaIZLi5EisX4WIiMIGKIQTgYmESVnztikCNDnjLDPDnRspy2i6RvXyJX3BEWNw/s1086/Samantha+Hunter+Author+Pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="724" data-original-width="1086" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf-sOvoz5i-7tUgEmZhP1C1hGXWUPtw636cuyhZYgk2omzVKUnKOISFJDw8JjSHXaRnuKA-JtXZaIZLi5EisX4WIiMIGKIQTgYmESVnztikCNDnjLDPDnRspy2i6RvXyJX3BEWNw/s320/Samantha+Hunter+Author+Pic.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;">Samantha Hunter wrote her first book, for the middle graders. It was a novel called Freddie’s Fantastic Adventures and was inspired by a children’s t-shirt with a flamingo on the front. She says that while out walking a few years later, the idea for Flamingo Fashion popped into her head! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Hunter is passionate about developing both children’s and adult’s creativity and her writing is designed to inspire imaginations in a fun and playful way. Proceeds from the book are going to the LitWorld charity, who work to develop children’s creative confidence and literacy skills, through the power of storytelling.</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-67802073800466523682021-03-09T20:30:00.051+05:302021-03-09T23:43:08.789+05:30Continuing March<h1 style="text-align: left;">We have put International Women's Day behind us just yesterday but I am sure some people are just waking up to it. Literally and metaphorically, both!</h1><div>So in continuation to the point that I was trying to get across yesterday I am here to speak about the bitter half. No, you read that correct. The bitter half has been complaining why no Men's Day (BTW it falls on Nov 19th, if I am not mistaken), give us an entire day to celebrate. Ask them what and I don't think they have a concrete answer yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is better to leave certain things just as they are and move on like Sahir Ludhianvi wrote:</div><div><br /></div><div>Wo afsana jise anjaam tak laana na ho mumkin, usse ek khoobsurat mod de ke chodna achha.</div><div><br /></div><div>Coming back to the main idea of today's post. I have a son and a daughter, so it has fallen on my broad shoulders to bring to your kind attention a very important thing. Let me first make a thing clear, I am not here attempting to bring this point out for conversation and debate because either I am biased towards a gender or because I am a feminist. I would rather, you think of me as a humanist, than anything else.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7TxfgRa05Ujg1PLfIsiGTfNZ13ebNYIbGkaxRyqDcjiuUq7nBKMIka1h3U-k0UCNR-FzPcx4aHuOPxV0Wg55Yv1rPKNZ6aquUKf1PYrUvCYBwbHfBXHSC_nQt_7WmH8_rrCI-Mg/s275/girl.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7TxfgRa05Ujg1PLfIsiGTfNZ13ebNYIbGkaxRyqDcjiuUq7nBKMIka1h3U-k0UCNR-FzPcx4aHuOPxV0Wg55Yv1rPKNZ6aquUKf1PYrUvCYBwbHfBXHSC_nQt_7WmH8_rrCI-Mg/s0/girl.jpeg" /></a></div>To cut to the chase, I have been very concerned for the mental state of our boys. All of them. I have reached that stage in life where I can't be bothered to discriminate between a boy and a man. For me they all fall into one category and that is babies. Don't come at me with your loaded vocabulary just now. There is more from where this just came.</div><div><br /></div><div>So babies, I mean babas or men that we are trying to raise are subjected to dual standards I think. At one point we are telling the world how we need to make space for women and at another, go on about gender equality (Baith jaaiye, I know the argument in favour of women who have been ignored for centuries, but this is not the fight I am referring to at the moment). We, I think and often fear, might just be bringing up boys who will be quite confused when they go out in to the world and then it really won't be a better place for you and for me and the entire humanity.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8iq3C2M2Ti6_Agj5M21Of8nW3QB8wqZnEjyBZbZzGj8b6Ga6eOvbmB45Op_znL-CVVfmRUGnh0_z_hWhoJrp0G5OO6m0h2nimw1SsIJF8uCQS-7wRA-5hiRDuFSSRRhFbmbJu_Q/s228/boy1.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="228" data-original-width="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8iq3C2M2Ti6_Agj5M21Of8nW3QB8wqZnEjyBZbZzGj8b6Ga6eOvbmB45Op_znL-CVVfmRUGnh0_z_hWhoJrp0G5OO6m0h2nimw1SsIJF8uCQS-7wRA-5hiRDuFSSRRhFbmbJu_Q/s0/boy1.jpeg" /></a></div><div>Let me take the help of my own family set up to illustrate what I am trying to say. I have a daughter who is 13 and a son who is 6 years old. I am raising or rather trying to raise her to be fierce (she is not taking this seriously, and might have called me a bully! Kids these days!!). I want her to march boldly on the path of life, making her own mistakes, winning her own battles and do things with a penchant. I might have not succeeded yet because she has just entered her teen years but I am not the one to get deterred. She hangs out mostly with boys, finds girl talk 'lame', is a <a href="https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/2/16/16915672/what-is-kpop-history-explained" target="_blank">K-Pop</a> fan (Say whaaa?), tells me she looks like some fellow named <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jungkook" target="_blank">JungCook</a> (Must have been named after a Khansama grandpa) and likes to do multiple rounds on the monkey bar. But give her 7 Barbie dolls and she is happy to play house and weave stories of domesticity, going to work, returning back to cook a meal and watch TV. They absolutely lack adventure (and often I think story) that I at times don't believe that this is the same child who can unleash mind numbing retorts at the speed of light at me, at the slightest provocation. This, sweet child, cries when a friend messages her to say that she won't speak to her ever again and which lasts for roughly ten minutes.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>I am okay with this daughter of mine (Do you think she has a split personality? *Shudders* God forbid) I accept her for who she is. We all, people around her, relatives, grandparents, teachers and acquaintances, realise that she is still figuring out her self.</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div>And then there is my boy. All of 6- an absolute joy, with a motor mouth and relentless energy, fights very hard to control tears from spilling on his little face while his lower lip curls with the effort and cycles so fast that I can't bear to look at him fearing he will bump into the next thing. He proclaimed to me that he loves puppies and hates girls, in those many words. Can you imagine my horror? I put him down and told him, " You can't say such things." He replied as he walked away,"But that's what I feel". <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMokGmVbdAHDJaQ0GaXFn2g7dTPRIB3xlg9tNM224FWuIpuL0E_iOUyv4mTUnHtFI7osFSVSPM7fg8gqltaNsY_06QIM4XagmR1btgF7oGDUUVENRWI0f48Dl5odgZo_aVVgYW4A/s225/doll.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMokGmVbdAHDJaQ0GaXFn2g7dTPRIB3xlg9tNM224FWuIpuL0E_iOUyv4mTUnHtFI7osFSVSPM7fg8gqltaNsY_06QIM4XagmR1btgF7oGDUUVENRWI0f48Dl5odgZo_aVVgYW4A/s0/doll.jpeg" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>That is where my confusion surfaced. I know that there is hardly any substance in what this 6 year old said but my reaction to it was an attempt to change whatever he feels and has chosen to weave in those words. For a while, I couldn't let him be who he is. </div><div><br /></div><div>I asked myself why can I not be as accepting of him as I would have been of any boy who would have asked to play with the dolls or a kitchen set? The stunning answer I got back was because that would have been my moment of glory, to find that my boy doesn't seek guns and fast cars but is instead happy to play house and wear pink tee shirt/ shorts. I can't flaunt a son who does what boys usually do. And before you rise to the occasion, baith jaiye, because had someone told me this, I might have had a hard time believing it maybe. The boy was never introduced to violence (The first film we took ourdaughter t watchin a cinema was Ghazni and for our son it was Bachna Ae Hasino) or to cars. </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>My friend Seema Shastry who gifted him his first book can be the reason he loves trucks (and the first word he uttered was DUMPTRUCK) but no racing cars or guns or even a bat was given to him till he could drag us to the shops and buy those. I understood then that this came naturally to him. I do dare to say as far as this is concerned that boys will be boys and girls will be girls, at their core. And please let them be.</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Unfortunately, I have also realised that glory eludes me yet again (as has been often the case). I have a boy who yearns to be a truck driver, likes chases of all sorts and makes a bang-bang sound all around the house the whole day. He wears a pink, green, yellow, white tee shirt if I ask him to but never agrees to wear shorts even in the humid Kolkata weather. He would rather play out an accident scene and then pretend going to an office like his father does but runs away screaming if you tell him that he can be a fauji (soldier).</div><div><br /></div><div>I am making a case for accepting the child as she or he is. I write all this to bring to your kind notice that if it is okay to let our girls be equal to boys, it is equally okay to not demand that the boys change and not do things unlike their ownselves.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Stuff does not have a gender. It is alright for boys and girls to play with dolls, bikes, cars and hopscotch, football, cricket- anything of their choosing. Careers or jobs do not have a sex. Choices are for them to make to do and become what brings them joy and contentment.</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div>Let us not, in our enthusiasm, burden our sons into being and saying and believing who they actually are. I, in no way, am making a case for disrespect or asking for any sanction for boys to be condescending in any way.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">All that I think I am trying to say is that as parents let us not be sexists towards any gender.</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div>Till next time</div><div>A</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-14819671394197572662021-03-08T17:03:00.017+05:302021-03-08T22:27:19.272+05:30Attitudes, Standards and Boundaries- A happy womens's day to you too <p>In my school group today morning, someone posted </p><p>Strong women do not have an attitude. They have standards and boundaries.</p><p>I wrote fab to that in my comment. And then it happened. I analysed the statement quite unintentionally because I am not the one to keep up with gender tropes. </p><p>Well, well, well ain't that food for thought! Come let us dig deep(err). </p><p>I think this must have come from a man and there is an obvious problem with the first part of the statement but we will get to it later. Hear me out first,</p><p>So, strong woman- who is this creature? A mythical being or a character from folk lore? Does she exist beyond the realms of imagination of feminists- both male and female? Let's turn the question around. </p><p>Who isn't a strong woman, rather?</p><p>You are my friend. Yes you too, gentlemen! Remember the concept of Ardhanaareshwar? The coexistence of the feminine and the masculine. The naari form before the eshwar. </p><p>Every man and woman, every human being on the planet, rises to the occasion even if it is just once in their own lifetimes. Don't you think so?</p><p>There isn't any need or scope for wars and battles in our daily lives, but there is a wide scope for having to cajole a child or a grown up refusing food and withering away, speak lovingly to a friend or an acquaintance while your own cup leaks, lead a stranger gently to a path she knows not of ( ummm... ya maybe not.) BUT what I mean to say is that life is challenging. To wake up everyday and show up is at times a huge challenge and day in and day out, men and women world over do that. They grind their teeth, muster their courage, call on their Gods and ancestors and they do what needs to be done. We are a strong species- strong men and women, strong in our intent. History isn't anything if not this.</p><p>Standards and heels women are told to keep these both high. I for one can't manage anything beyond <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitten_heel" target="_blank">kitten heels </a>so I can't say I endorse the statement in full but as far as standards are concerned, yes they must be high. I am not just talking of standard of expectations or standard of doing a job or maintaining the outer appearances. Never mind, I am digressing from what I had to say on standards. </p><p>I am a fairly easy person to get along with (can hear my husband snort!) and I am very forgiving and forgetful by nature. My favourite state of existence is IGNORANCE which the highest of minds called a state of BLISS. You get me, right? What I am trying to say is that even if the world is telling us to maintain high standards, it is alright to fall from them or accept and forgive people who fall from (your eyes, like how it happened with me last week. I had a high opinion of someone and it crash landed and went up in a blaze in less than 5 minutes). </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsyriXHwtHUedYFWeSCAgEHQHsZS25WAkkHfX5aeUGZlRb1gWFXENqFqp-bjM9BfphqESpILbIGUlP4Yue2sTLDmFmed_hXr3QfCrjDtFu1vAgLSUhURl5bCAOSdXiI6M2SZiwsA/s768/heels.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="768" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsyriXHwtHUedYFWeSCAgEHQHsZS25WAkkHfX5aeUGZlRb1gWFXENqFqp-bjM9BfphqESpILbIGUlP4Yue2sTLDmFmed_hXr3QfCrjDtFu1vAgLSUhURl5bCAOSdXiI6M2SZiwsA/s320/heels.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I summarise and repeat DO NOT HOLD YOUR STANDARDS ABOVE AND BEYOND THE PEACE OF YOUR OWN MIND. <p></p><p>Foremost forgive yourself when you have failed to rise to the standards of </p><p>a. your parents (make this a daily practice if you have parents who are anything like mine),</p><p>b. the society, because even though man is a social animal, no one really cares and those who do will forgive and empathise and they can be counted on one finger</p><p>Moving on to the second part of the said statement- BOUNDARIES. Yes please. Boundaries translate into saying no. They translate into letting down a person, first gently and then maybe if he/she is unable to take the hint, with a proverbial blue eye (Yessssir, I learnt this the hard way too. Nothing comes easy to the ignorant). Set up boundaries for yourself. </p><p>Say no. Liberally. To the boss, child, husband, parent, your own self for a third helping of the dessert.</p><p>You don't have to immediately give an answer. in most of the situations. </p><p>You do not have to feel bad for the decision you have chosen to make,</p><p>Remind yourself to do this. Often. Here are different ways in which you can affirm the negative.</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofo6S9KF7-4Y5yBkHKGVIavcB7Dri-MY4qL8uhgyjoZzGW1WbeMVqeSDK1eSsOjdQ6x2kUXv-UoPFS4RpG_hE2g0zbIRagvVYM9ac7q2Skj34xYw5qD5iqWfXkncr9Z2bXhfc4w/s780/no.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="780" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofo6S9KF7-4Y5yBkHKGVIavcB7Dri-MY4qL8uhgyjoZzGW1WbeMVqeSDK1eSsOjdQ6x2kUXv-UoPFS4RpG_hE2g0zbIRagvVYM9ac7q2Skj34xYw5qD5iqWfXkncr9Z2bXhfc4w/s320/no.jpg" width="320" /></a>Now let's get to some knuckle cracking. Attitude is everything so I think this Hallmark line must have been penned by a man, so not in touch with himself, what to talk of his 'her' bits. All the gurus and babas and even The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari will tell you that. Oprah would second it and so would Amit Shah as well as Mamta Didi( have you seen BJP's resurgence? You think that happened without an attitude and this woman in Hawai Chappal...boss!</p><p></p><p>If you are still reading then please congratulate yourself for being a person of distinguished tastes. As you digest this and prepare your argument for or against, I shall put the water for tea to boil and take my attitude to the kitchen where we all belong when we are hungry or thirsty and these two things hardly ever discriminate on the basis of gender.</p><p>Don't fear my standards and do leave a comment for me to amuse myself with and fire another post!</p><p>Till next time</p><p>A</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-37190308159382461572021-02-03T19:40:00.001+05:302021-02-03T19:40:11.578+05:30Book Review: Bad Habits by Flynn Meaney<p><span style="font-size: medium;">I just saw a tweet asking people why they read YA or middle grade fiction and this made me contemplate my recent choices ahem ahem!! I have been reading some (or maybe a lot!) thanks, mostly to Dave and the fantastic book tours he organises, as well the fact that I have a teen in the house. So it is just sheer cleverness on my part that I read YA and try to see what goes on in the minds of today's young generation.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Well, to read Bad Habits by Flynn Meaney was one such attempt. Which mother of a teen can resist going through a book titled THAT? Enough of jokes, let's get to the serious business of reviewing this book. So, first things first, an introduction to the book and the protagonist.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuKMRNJDsj4VpSAmJuznm21lyBJkeM1fJqzG1pXBNm30_DooldHzVlXL2Y_izd-WkJv5BcRyduFp8U_wTRF-JKObzd3Ocm2MshSs00TO2qUO3zAxZS0MH3E2Do0nFjErfC3ZHJ_Q/s1600/IMG-20210131-WA0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuKMRNJDsj4VpSAmJuznm21lyBJkeM1fJqzG1pXBNm30_DooldHzVlXL2Y_izd-WkJv5BcRyduFp8U_wTRF-JKObzd3Ocm2MshSs00TO2qUO3zAxZS0MH3E2Do0nFjErfC3ZHJ_Q/w400-h225/IMG-20210131-WA0003.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Alex goes to a strict Catholic school and wants to be expelled from it. Her story is an attempt at gaining some shock value and getting the school authorities to chuck her out. What actually happens is a tangential growth in Alex's character and discussions and debates on topics which have been always hidden behind a societal veil.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Alex aims at her expulsion by staging the The Vagina Monologues- the play that speaks openly about women's sexuality. You see, Alex is a rebel and not a very concerned citizen of the world. All that she yearns for is an escape from the school which she feels is not aligned at all with her thoughts on things of different nature. She keeps getting herself into trouble with the authorities but during her journey makes friends that stand with her, passes the test of friendship and learns to see and hear others beyond herself.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Meaney writes with her heart and you can sense how deeply she feels about the topic of women's sexual health and freedom of choices offered to them by the society in her prose. The characters are grey, never black and white. Though there are some bits written quite irreverently (we are talking about sex), nothing is in jest. There are laugh out loud moments and there are lines that will pull at your heart, more so if you are a mother to a teenager and can empathise with their struggle with finding and forming an identity and learning to live within a society that promises absolute freedom but curtails it in the name of shame and norms.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I loved the book and will want my daughter to read it and form her own association and judgment about Alex and her choices. I would recommend it to anyone and everyone no matter what age, not only for the fact that YA helps us come out of the drudgery that COVID has turned our lives into but also because of the topic that this book dares and cares to bring forth. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Kudos to the publishing team at Penguin Random House for giving Flynn Meaney and Alex their voices!!</span></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-83686387301585052772020-12-04T12:22:00.007+05:302020-12-04T12:54:51.814+05:30Book Review: The Cousins by Karen M McManus<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgosRrbYXEMSXTCpguHT9jBzNjEwCDi7pWMeUkT4BNhDXTNA5ouX1aGifZ_7Yu7NU-6VX0wWPuu0SLLh8D1KxdL8q_OC7OH-LO7d0z0KU6tXCnVPz9j96lhof8AobSVPam9Ug_FeA/s1024/The+Cousins.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="1024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgosRrbYXEMSXTCpguHT9jBzNjEwCDi7pWMeUkT4BNhDXTNA5ouX1aGifZ_7Yu7NU-6VX0wWPuu0SLLh8D1KxdL8q_OC7OH-LO7d0z0KU6tXCnVPz9j96lhof8AobSVPam9Ug_FeA/w400-h200/The+Cousins.png" width="400" /></a></div><b>The Cousins by Karen Mc Manus is delightful, young, involves a mystery and is a very very readable book. Read on to find why I found it "very very readable".</b><p></p><p>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;"><u><b>BLURB</b></u></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">The Storys are the envy of their neighbours: owners of the largest property on their East Coast island, they are rich, beautiful, and close. Until it all falls apart. The four children are suddenly dropped by their mother with a single sentence:</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">You know what you did.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">They never hear from her again.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">Years later, when 18-year-old cousins Aubrey, Milly and Jonah Story receive a mysterious invitation to spend the summer at their grandmother's resort, they have no choice but to follow their curiosity and meet the woman who's been such an enigma their entire lives.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">This entire family is built on secrets, right? It's the Story legacy.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">This summer, the teenagers are determined to discover the truth at the heart of their family. But some secrets are better left alone.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: none;">--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: none;"><b><u>My Take</u></b></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: none;"><b><u><br /></u></b></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">The Cousins opens with the three protagonists Aubrey, Milly and Jonah Story, the cousins, getting a letter from their grandmother offering them a summer job at an island she almost owns. Each of them leaves home to take up the job for a very personal reason and intrigued by a grandmother who has abandoned her four children soon after her husband's death with just a single line on a paper to their name.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">We begin with a glimpse into the lives of these three youngsters and through them into the lives of their parents. The book is divided chapter wise between the three cousins and Milly's mother who seems to be an integral to the reason why grandmother severed all ties with her children.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">The author takes her own sweet time to reveal the plot and that is not to say that you will either get bored or lose interest in the story, at all. On the contrary McManus takes us into the lives, emotions and highs and lows of the cousins while the stage is being set up for the final curtain raiser. And that is why I said in the very beginning that it is a "very very readable book". </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLtLC5du0mrR7rrCZmRTzNOk6CCZlskYt-4iN_lgKx4N_H8oOYaX89W2nrEM27v5uXufblLgxuD-rx5l9hiS7H8ICCw-UZTdNasDpv8uismhej5WGUHxUtREZyII2hw3_ate8hg/s266/mcmannus.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="189" data-original-width="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLtLC5du0mrR7rrCZmRTzNOk6CCZlskYt-4iN_lgKx4N_H8oOYaX89W2nrEM27v5uXufblLgxuD-rx5l9hiS7H8ICCw-UZTdNasDpv8uismhej5WGUHxUtREZyII2hw3_ate8hg/s0/mcmannus.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">Though a mystery keeps you hooked to the pages, I am sure the YA audience at which the book is largely targeted, will find their emotions reflected in the personal journeys that Aubrey, Milly and Jonah undertake while on the island.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">I found it very very readable also for the fact that it isn't a story that is very twisted. Don't get me wrong! I love my share of twisted mysteries and suspense novels but this one felt absolutely fresh as it had a progression that moved towards solving a mystery yet not in a very sleuth-y way but as a matter of time...the secret whose time is up.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 12px; outline: none;">Let me know if you pick up this book and felt the same way!</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-54013956305013567462020-10-16T21:19:00.004+05:302020-10-16T21:19:49.491+05:30Book Review: First Date by Sue Watson<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLJtr05T7Nw_RoDcwS1PCpjZzrDryM2jpLSqU79vUAvTARIxwXh0XZzkRVeGIJq71147kdWIfT8G1Wk3WDBJPFiRI11UCAgcNDIIr6dZaYpgP3tdQNefoaj5w4EO7mk_xLbha1Q/s230/71paZs%252BkuzL._US230_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="230" data-original-width="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLJtr05T7Nw_RoDcwS1PCpjZzrDryM2jpLSqU79vUAvTARIxwXh0XZzkRVeGIJq71147kdWIfT8G1Wk3WDBJPFiRI11UCAgcNDIIr6dZaYpgP3tdQNefoaj5w4EO7mk_xLbha1Q/s0/71paZs%252BkuzL._US230_.jpg" /></a></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-size: large;"><span>First Date by Sue Watson is an extremely interesting and readable psychological thriller. The book releases today and I can't stress enough that if you are a reader with a special place in yo</span><span>ur</span><span> heart for mystery/ thrillers, you must get to it ASAP. </span></span><p></p><p></p><p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: times; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: white;"><b><u>Book Blurb</u></b></i></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">First Date is the story of Hannah who has <span>done everything to make sure her life is safe and secure. A long way from her unstable childhood growing up in foster care, she’s content with her sweet, little, messy apartment and her satisfying job as a social worker. She quietly worries that, aged 36, she might never fall in love. But otherwise her life is where she wants it to be.</span></span></p><p><span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span>Until, encouraged by her best friend to join a dating app, she </span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWWhcQHTrFhOEe4FB30ywwM2WI66b1jzuyUlLX1igQJ9zvH6kgnjhfDr_TbW2qVL09eE_JVFPqZ3aaWQSVapXMpuiFwbOVtizG7Xy-wxKojqQ8s5FUl8CyVq3h7Gu91tQ_ZwOnWA/s2048/First-Date-Kindle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWWhcQHTrFhOEe4FB30ywwM2WI66b1jzuyUlLX1igQJ9zvH6kgnjhfDr_TbW2qVL09eE_JVFPqZ3aaWQSVapXMpuiFwbOVtizG7Xy-wxKojqQ8s5FUl8CyVq3h7Gu91tQ_ZwOnWA/s320/First-Date-Kindle.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div><span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span>meets </span><span>Alex </span><span>who is </span><span>irresistibly handsome, loves the same music as her and the same food as well. Both of them would love to own a Labrador one day. It’s like he’s made for her. </span><span>It’s like he’s too good to be true.</span><br /><br /><span>Hannah’s friends aren’t so sure about him. But Hannah thinks he’s perfect.</span><br /><br /><span>Which is good. Because Alex knows she’s perfect for him too. In fact, </span><span>she’s exactly the girl he’s been looking for…</span><br /><br /><span>And nothing Hannah’s done to make her life safe will ever be enough now.</span></span></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: times; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: white;">My take on First Date</i></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I could have read the book in one sitting if I had not been distracted by common things like feeding two kids and cleaning the house! Yes, the book even with its flaws (Perfect is a myth, no?) is an engaging read. Hannah isn't exactly the person I would like to be but then she, the heroine of our story is a girl whose heart is at the right place. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">She has suffered an ass of a boyfriend and when encouraged by her best friend, joins a dating app and finds the perfect guy within minutes. Sounds surreal, doesn't it? </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span>Believe you me, </span><span>as a seasoned thriller reader, as I read the book I could see almost all the red flags which Hannah chooses to ignore (throughout) and thought to myself I must really change the genre preference or maybe attempt writing a book or two myself. I smugly thought,"Oh, I know where this is going!" Its a given that this is a thriller and some nasty things are bound to happen. But soon after nothing that I predicted worked out.</span></span><span style="font-family: times;">The book surprised me with its progression and welcome change in </span>pace as we delve deeper into Hannah's and Alex's affairs. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-size: large;">The writing is charged with electricity and why not! Watson was a TV producer with BBC and in my opinion uses her experience of the moving picture quite well in creating imageries with her words. I could almost feel Alex's presence or see in my mind all of Hannah's colleagues and her office as well. </span></p><p><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">The ending is just what it should have been and I am not going to spoil it by telling you just what it is, but trust me you are in for a shock and a surprise as you near the finishing line. </span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;"></span></p><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">So my dear reader, pick this pacy, psychological thriller at the earliest and I am sure you will not regret it.</span></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-22826095047966253522020-09-27T18:19:00.004+05:302020-09-27T18:19:35.567+05:30Book Review: The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYw2-6lj2xLJt_OzUNOuo6RWWt_iJjT5-oSIGR8YJZRgl5bG6tUDVH6L4HnwyDKfjkQuPhVNURT2GgZhaqrCY6plWyaNc-r82fXv6aKiTKOtBlizW0_Sjg3BHvesnduZOBBW7mPg/s394/inherit.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="394" data-original-width="255" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYw2-6lj2xLJt_OzUNOuo6RWWt_iJjT5-oSIGR8YJZRgl5bG6tUDVH6L4HnwyDKfjkQuPhVNURT2GgZhaqrCY6plWyaNc-r82fXv6aKiTKOtBlizW0_Sjg3BHvesnduZOBBW7mPg/s320/inherit.png" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">For the first time in my life I was devastated by the feeling of being left out. It happened when the usual suspects from Dave's The Write Reads Blogtours opted to read and review The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes and I did not.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Then when the reviews began to pour in and I read them, I wrote back to Dave asking to be let in. And to his credit he sent me the ARC link. As luck would have it, the link didn't work and thinking that maybe me and this book weren't meant to be, I yet again told Dave that I won't be able to participate in the blog tour. And then again one fine day, the link to an ARC landed in my mail box.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Going through a pretty nasty phase I wasn't sure if I could finish it off or would now even like to read the book but as soon as I started The Inheritance Games, I fell for it, hook, line and sinker. Ms Barnes please take a bow for writing the most readable book I have come across so far in 2020.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The book is about a girl Avery Kimberley Greaves who comes to inherit a fortune with some very stringent terms and conditions in place. Rightly described as '<i>A Cinderella story with deadly stakes and thrilling twists', </i>The Inheritance Games, is a joyride full of interesting characters- stepmother, step-sisters and princes in place.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The writing is clever and the pace is well-maintained all through the novel. Avery's story from rags to extreme riches comes with lots of thrills and threats. Who is speaking the truth? Which of the characters is trustworthy? Who has what at stake and what length are they willing to go to, in order to achieve what they have eyes on and does that involve endangering the life of Ms Grambs?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">These and many more questions will be answered once you pick up a copy of this delicious treat of a book. Though aimed at the Young Adults, I am sure anyone looking for a book with all such elements as manipulation, romance, danger and tragedy and more, will be pleased to run with it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36677872.post-12476554993958215882020-09-14T20:22:00.003+05:302020-09-14T20:22:21.243+05:30Book Review: The Beast and The Bethany by Jack Meggitt-Phillips<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMxL0-6NM3efhxdrDIwita8idAmC74jSWkrVH_G73yoSFQ-ZC42zIn5UWnk89SI-KubB8EQeZo7FwWZ6eyxlm7IMcWXIBDoZs3rmSTeXF0KaFZJicSS9jPkzknMDRoSIIhFdGE_w/s1024/Banner_Beast+and+Bethany_Final.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="1024" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMxL0-6NM3efhxdrDIwita8idAmC74jSWkrVH_G73yoSFQ-ZC42zIn5UWnk89SI-KubB8EQeZo7FwWZ6eyxlm7IMcWXIBDoZs3rmSTeXF0KaFZJicSS9jPkzknMDRoSIIhFdGE_w/w625-h313/Banner_Beast+and+Bethany_Final.png" width="625" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It happens very rarely, if ever, that you just hear one praise after the other from the members of your book reviewing community. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It happened with me for the very book that I am going to be reviewing here: (though not given to the use of adjectives much, I break the rules and.....) the hilarious, the fabulous, the must-read, the heart warming, the amazing.....DRUM ROLL.... THE BEAST AND THE BETHANY. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The book targeted for </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">middle grade readers</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> has been written by Jack Meggitt-Phillip and illustrated by Isabelle Follath. What a team have they made to bring us this delightful book!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I read it with both my kids-the12 year-old and the 5 year-old and we had some hilarious times. Let me start by giving you the blurb from Goodreads. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i>511 years. How, you may wonder? Ebenezer simply has to feed the beast in the attic of his mansion. In return for meals of performing monkeys, statues of Winston Churchill, and the occasional cactus, Ebenezer gets potions that keep him young and beautiful, as well as other presents. But the beast grows ever greedier with each meal, and one day he announces that he’d like to eat a nice, juicy child next. Ebenezer has never done anything quite this terrible to hold onto his wonderful life. Still, he finds the absolutely snottiest, naughtiest, and most frankly unpleasant child he can and prepares to feed her to the beast. The child, Bethany, may just be more than Ebenezer bargained for. She’s certainly a really rather rude houseguest, but Ebenezer still finds himself wishing she didn’t have to be gobbled up after all. Could it be Bethany is less meal-worthy and more…friend-worthy? </i></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Now that you have seen/ read it for yourself, can you resist this modern day retelling of a favourite fairy tale? (I couldn't have and so hopped on to the blog tour organised by the very amazing Dave of The Write Reads. *Rubs hands gleefully*)</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">My elder daughter identified with Bethany (and was moved by her <br />back story) while my younger one ( who is already showing a penchant for the good life) aspires to pick up a thing or two from Ebenzer. The characters were fun and really well rounded and we loved imagining the way each one of the three main characters would speak. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">The book also makes an everlasting impression on the reader because it is not always fun and games. Ebenzer's and Bethany's stories will warm the </span><span style="font-size: large;">cockles</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"> of your heart and might just get you to shed a few tears. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">The Beast itself is a very enticing creature. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">With their own unique quirks, which all the characters in the book bring to the story, The Beast and The Bethany makes for an engaging read for one and all. I personally loved the progression of the story as well as the storytelling</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>amuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17473531571347078092noreply@blogger.com0India20.593684 78.96288-7.7165498361788458 43.80663 48.903917836178849 114.11913