I finally finished reading The Poison Garden only because I forced myself to. I turned page after deliberate page, skipping sections, skimming over larger sections and wondering who would read the book. And then, I had a rather startling thought. I understand where the inspiration comes from. I understand a fascination for plants and power - I have the fascination myself. I understand the thrilling secrets of a closed box - I've written a story about a box myself. I understand the love for fine language and vocabulary that is beyond the scope of a child - I have that myself. In other words, perhaps the essence of the book is something that captivates me. No, not perhaps. Every idea in the book does thrill me. The names thrill me. Albion, Arcadia, Broceliande, Tadmor, Xanadu, Nineveh and Acoma: gardens of love, poison, dreams, healing, time, perfume and journeys. They send ripples over … [Read more...]
Imagination
I sometimes think about what other people must be thinking about what I'm thinking. Cycling home from my grandfather's place early this morning, I was amused at bystanders waiting for buses. I thought about what they would be thinking about how dedicated I was about exercising everyday. I imagined conversations with real people and recollected a real conversation with someone who was actually curious enough to stop me and ask. And then I thought about how wild my imagination was when I was younger. When I saw men (they were probably young, but child-Varsha thought they were all uncles) on bikes, how I loved to imagine! I imagined that they had just robbed a bank and were running away. I imagined that they were policemen in disguise. I imagined they had stolen other people's bikes. I imagined that they had murdered someone or performed some nameless crime. I never imagined that they … [Read more...]
The Harry Potter Phenomenon
"You must read Harry Potter," a friend of mine told me when I was in the eighth standard. I glanced at the book lying on her desk and nodded. The book she was so impressed by was not yet available easily in India. A relative had given it to her and she was passing it on. I postponed reading - for an incomprehensible reason that I wonder if anyone would understand. I thought Harry Potter was the name of the writer and I had a deep-rooted prejudice against writers who put their own names in font that is far larger than the name of the book. Who was this Harry Potter who used one-fourth of the book cover for his own name? A lot of writers did that, I knew. I did not like the idea of it at all. I did not want to read this new author, this Harry Potter. So another friend read it before I did and said to me, "You must read Harry Potter!" I was curious now, so we spoke a … [Read more...]
Faerie Heart
Incredible. As a child, I did not like novels that were not divided into chapters. I have no idea why. The only exception was Mary Poppins. I somehow think this one would have been an exception too. What a visual treat! The imagination just blew me over. A coverlet and a bed made of insects' wings. Weaving ropes out of spider threads. Threading cobwebs together to sew the insects' wings. Curtains parting noiselessly - like clouds. Droplets of water hanging from grass - and whole shimmering worlds within. Livi Michael. I'll look out for the name. … [Read more...]
Oranges in No Man’s Land
I find that so may writers seem to have a compulsion to write long, complex, layered work. So many new books are thick paperbacks, full of things happening on every page. Oranges in No Man's Land is not like that. Not at all. Elizabeth Laird manages to write a beautiful, heart-warming story in the course of just about a hundred pages of large print. The setting and characters are just so powerful that the story becomes not a book, but a moment in time. It's an eternal, timeless moment, captured by language. I know nothing about the history of Lebanon. I know nothing about the 'Green Line' or what that meant, but I agree with the critic who says that Laird's Oranges in No Man's Land is 'A tribute to the human spirit'. Ten-year-old Ayesha lives in Beirut, ravaged by civil war. Between the two parts of the city is no man's land, and only military men dare go there. But Ayesha's … [Read more...]
Book-Reading at Crossword, Mulund!
Opening my Eyes
At our refectory, things are beautifully, thoughtfully organised. Little children eat in one hall; older children in another. There's no discrimination involved. The wash-basins attached to the hall for the little ones are lower, the trays are designed for children and everything is child-height. One day, a tiny girl was rummaging amongst the spoons of the 'big' zone. "What happened?" I asked. "What are you looking for?" There was no response. The little girl continued her search. "Can I help?" I asked. The little girl was standing on tiptoe, hunting. She looked up at me. "I want a spoon with a design." I couldn't help smiling. I found two for her and held them out. She chose the design she liked more. "Thank you." I took the other. It had such a pretty design. Now, I don't choose my spoon (I don't want to deprive anyone of a pretty spoon), but I do notice. … [Read more...]
The Table Family
Have you been introduced to the Table family? When I was in school, we were kept forcibly away from the family. The Table family was a strict no-no for us. Pronounce correctly. Stay away from the awful Table family. Trends are changing, though. Many children have found their comfort zone with this delightfully extended family. At lunch, they meet Veggie Table. When their handwriting is not so good, but not so bad, their teacher introduces them to Axe-ep Table. The mike stand has a secret name, I learned in school the other day. It is Adjus(t) Table. You are invited to join the family too! If you have something to give and give it freely, you are Charee Table. A child told me seriously about a naughty, uncontrolled child. "He is Ex-i Table." Maybe we should join the family. It sounds most Come-for Table. … [Read more...]
Essel World
When I was ten years old, I wrote a story that won me two tickets to Essel World, and 4 tickets to Nehru Planetarium. Going to Mumbai was impossible, so we passed the tickets on to friends in Mumbai. I have no recollection of being upset with it, or in any way deprived. I think the friends who used the tickets felt far worse than I did! When I won the same things again, a little later, my parents and our friends in Mumbai decided that somehow, this time, little Varsha had to go to Essel World. And so, we planned it. This was a time when I was obsessed with writing down everything to be sure I did not forget treasured experiences. I wrote down all kinds of details, including what we ate and where. At Nehru Planetarium, there were weighing machines that were fascinating. "On the moon, I'm 6 kgs," I wrote. I wrote all the details. What I weighed on earth, Jupiter, the sun... Figures and … [Read more...]
Hiding from Children
There are many things that you may successfully hide from adults, but simply cannot hide from children. Impoliteness is one of those things. As a child, my sister once turned to my parents. "When I said 'thank you', why did that uncle not say 'welcome'?" Today, a colleague of mine was trying to hide from her two-year-old son. Essentially, she knew that if her child saw her, he would demand her attention, become cranky, want to be carried... The works. Another colleague and I attempted to shield her while all the little children entered the refectory. Her son could not see her; we had hidden her completely. But one little girl ran around us, perhaps just to see what we were doing standing there. She peeked and then yelled, eyes shining, "Phil! Mommy!" And then, in case he had not heard, she called again, "Phil! Mummy! Mummy!" The game was up. … [Read more...]
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