Reading this book was as pleasurable as having a cup of that delicious brewed coffee that became a cultural signifier of the Tamil way of life in the course of the 19th and 20th centuries. To those who associate scholarship with dullness, I would strongly recommend Chalapathy’s book since it is consistently both scholarly and lively.
Ghost Stories is a book which tells stories with a touch of mystery and suspense. ‘The Lady of the House’ is about a young ayah, called Malina, who comes to work in the house of Ginnima. Ginnima is an old lady, who has been trapped in her bed for 55 years, because she is overweight. When she first meets the old lady, something about Ginnima’s eyes scares Malina, because she feels like she is being trapped.This is a scary story. ‘The Blue Light’ is about a man, who searches for the perfect house to live in. He thinks he has found it and moves in. The postman tells him that the house is haunted by Bhargavi, a women who threw herself into a well because of unrequited love.Is he afraid?Read on to find out if the house is haunted.
Good Heavens is the name of the book, or the feelings of shock that came over me as I finished it? Do Indian authors really think that 10-12 year old read stories about elephants named ‘Elphie’ or wasn’t that meant for five year olds? Are Indian children really that juvenile? My advice, please write books that are really for the pre-teens and teens of our country and not for the ‘kids’.
What is it that sets apart a children’s book from a book for adults? Should there even be such distinctions? After all, the best children’s books also appeal to adults. But the converse, unfortunately, is not true. There are many books which adults like, that a child would not enjoy reading. And anyway, how does one decide what makes a good children’s book? The ones that teach children valuable lessons? The ones that entertain them? It could be argued that it is the book that the child reads again and again, sometimes right into adulthood, finding new things to wonder at with each reading, that can be called a truly good children’s book.These questions become rather more than merely academic ones, when one reads the beautiful, aesthetically appealing books published by Katha.
It’s easy to review a field guide: does it cover all of the 1200-or-so species in India? Does it have good illustrations? Are the differences between Blyth’s and Richard’s Pipits accurately represented? What are the descriptions like? Are the latest taxonomic changes incorporated? That there are fewer than half a dozen comprehensive field guides to the region doesn’t hurt either. They’re familiar territory.
Once upon a time, not so very long ago, children grew up on books about fairies, and smiling mushrooms, detective dogs and five children, faraway lands and enchanted forests. Today’s children are privy to battles larger than themselves, larger than life. Between prophesied heroes and worlds torn apart by evil—children learn the larger binary of life early in life. The reluctant heroes of these two novels, Joshua Mowll’s Operation Red Jericho and Jan Mark’s Voyager follow the footsteps of iconic heroes like Harry and Frodo facing demons and death albeit without the classic burden of being prophesied chosen ones.
Mark’s book, a sequel to the hugely successful Riding Tycho is the story about young Demetria’s escape from the oppressive life on High Island, a journey that leads to adventure, discovery and a life with the Underground. Mark is an excellent storyteller and no one can argue that her story lacks originality. The one glaring drawback of the narrative is that its takes a long time to take off. Add that to the fact that Mark works with the assumption that everyone is reading the book as a sequel, and hence come armed with the knowledge of Book One; it would take an exceptionally patient young child to sit through the non events in the initial half of Voyager.
The word “childhood’ brings many delight- ful memories to our minds. We were carefree and happy…We were not overburdened in any way….Yes, those were the days of innocence. Yet Anees Jung shatters the myth in Lost Spring Stories of Stolen Childhood. Child labour stares in the face as Jung ruthlessly describes the experiences of the young ones. She touches on the familiar issues of children begging, working in tea stalls or by the roadside. Yet these are issues, which she adds, are ignored by us. We turn the other way when we see it happening before our eyes. Her descriptions of the appalling conditions in which they live affect the reader deeply. She forces us to think and squirm uncomfortably while relating the real life stories of these children. She also attempts to understand why it happens, the fate of these children and what measures can be taken to improve it. Her concern for their future affects us as well, and Chotu, Raju, Munni are immortalized through this book.
After reading Vandana Singh’s Younguncle Comes to Town, I remember talking to a friend, and our saying that the book was almost as funny and whimsical as Lila Majumdar’s children’s writing—and there is no greater compliment that we could bestow. That is an index of Majumdar’s secure place in the Top of the Pops of Indian children’s writing. Majumdar, born in 1908, and a cousin of that other incomparable humorist, Sukumar Ray, has written successfully in Bengali in a whole gamut of genres, such as ghost stories, science fiction, adventure novels, plays, and humorous short stories.
We are forever surrounded by masks. The kathakali dancer in performance; the goalkeeper in hockey; the rescue worker at a collapsed building site; the traffic policeman at a busy, polluted intersection; the football fan with painted face; the robber at a bank heist; the surgeon at work; and even a heavily made-up Page 3 socialite—they all use masks of one kind or another. Some of these masks are functional and are meant to protect the wearer from hazards.
Mamang Dai’s book is a fascinatingly nuanced account of the life of the Adi tribe of Aruanchal Pradesh. Here is an upland valley, an immensely varied and difficult terrain, and wedged in by the deep gorges and dense forests. The Adis have lived there for ages nurturing their long history and unique ways of life. Many of the stories in the book contain authentic transcripts of the oral traditions of the Adis, all of which the writer relates with unusual insight and sensitivity. One not only comes across the Adi myths and legends but also sees how these originated in the first place.
Originally slated as a publication for and by teachers within Krishnamurti schools, this journal has far wider relevance. The issues covered, ranging from contemporary crises in consciousness and the role of education, to detailed thoughts on curricula, content and subject teaching, are significant for teacher-educators, administrators, parents and indeed anybody with a serious interest in the educational challenges of our times.
Micro studies of schooling and life at school were literally non- existent in India till Meenakshi Thapan’s first edition of the book was published in 1991. The book has brought into limelight the sociological forays into the micro-interpretive approach towards education and schooling in the Indian context. This is the first and only attempt so far by an Indian sociologist to bring out insights on the character and functioning of a school with the help of ethnographic method. The book has been successful in at least three respects. Firstly, it filled the vacuum in ethnography of schooling in India. Secondly, the book addressed gaps in understanding interpersonal relations among pupils and teachers and between pupils and teachers within the school. Thirdly, it captured the clash of notions of ideology of schooling and the exigencies of practical life in school.