Tuesday, 29 November 2016

I'd rather read - book review


 
Books give immense pleasure. Only the person who is fond of reading can understand the unparalleled joy which books give. So it is indeed a great treat to read what authors feel about their favourite books. I’d Rather Read comes with a subtitle Your Favourite Authors on Their Favourite Books. However the book is more about how these writers were inducted into reading than their favourite books.

While Sudha Murty and Ruskin Bond have written (in their other writings) about their childhood and the influence which reading has had on their childhood, others writers have seldom written about it.

Jash Sen very beautifully creates the atmosphere of reading a thriller in the late deserted night. I held my breath and absolutely related to him while reading the following lines. ‘Over the next few hours, you will hold your breath, you will breath shallow out of excitement, but you won’t know it, for the story will build up tension and all you will remember is to much on a biscuit every time it gets too tense.’

Indeed Jash Sen’s piece is exciting, thrilling and undoubtedly USP of this book.

I also liked what Anita Nair has to say about children. She says, ‘Children don’t remember authors. They remember stories. A child doesn’t read a book because it is fashionable to do so. They read only because the story speaks to them. Children start a book with neither prejudice nor expectations. That makes them a true reader in every sense.’

Arundhati Venkatesh speaks of a childhood which every child born in or before eighties can relate. She says that during her growing up years the adults were too busy with the household chores to foist the books on her. They nagged endlessly about posture or poor lighting and complained about her reading habits. Her words brought my mother, grandmother and father in front of my eyes.

In her write up Deepa Agarwal says, a book is a gift box of all the possibilities you can conjure up to transform your mundane world. So read on!’

This book is a rare feast for every child and every person who was a child at some point of time. This book is not to be missed.

Wednesday, 16 November 2016

This all about my Jug


We were standing outside Regal Cinema. The show was to begin at 3 pm. I checked my watch, it was 2.30 pm. The doorkeeper had told us that we would be taken inside only five minutes before. Helpless we waited outside the cinema.
'Come on, let us go and eat something.' Sagir said.
'No. If we do that we will be late. I do not wish to miss the beginning.' I said.

'Ok. Then let us eat mangoes.' He said and took out two mangoes from his backpack.
'Here?' I asked as I preened through the crowd which was waiting outside the hall.
'Yes.' Sagir said.
'We don't have a knife to cut it.' I said.
'You don't need a knife. Just press the mango from all sides and then bite it. The juice will flow into your mouth.'
'What others will say?' I asked. I was uncomfortable eating mango in full public view in the most dirty manner.
'What they will have to say? Are we smoking? Are we eating pan masala? We are not indulging in any addictions. We are eating the gift of nature.' Said Sagir and squeezed the mango into his mouth.

At that moment I wondered when was the last time I had done any thing without thinking what others would say. I admired Sagir's ability to carry out the commands of his heart. Yet I was uncomfortable eating the mango with both my hands.
By now Sagir was about to finish his mango.

'What are you thinking? Simply go ahead.' He said.
Hesitantly I pressed the mango very gently from all sides, as if it contained my baby.
'Now chew it from the side of the stem.' Sagir said.
 

I followed his advice. The juice of the fruit had never tasted so sweet. But some of it trickled down my elbows. I was embarrassed. What others would think of me? They would consider me to be a dirty, unsophisticated man. But as I continued to eat the mango, all the shame, discomfort withered away.

When I finished it I thought that I ate fruit of confidence rather than the mango. That mango not only made me feel confident but also made me happy. Suddenly what others said did not matter at all. I had overcome the what others will think syndrome. This is what my Jug, my Sagir had taught me.
Our weekly escapades made me even more confident and happy. We would sing loudly on the deserted streets of Fort, which during the night time were almost deserted. We would eat at the most unhygienic stalls and laugh to our hearts content.


 Before meeting Sagir, I behaved as if the burden of the whole world was put on my shoulders. But Sagir taught me to laugh, he taught me to enjoy, he taught me not to take life too seriously. He taught me to love myself. For this act of his I am eternally grateful to him. 

am writing about Jug in my life for the #DearZindagi activity at BlogAdda