24 March 2010
It was Women’s Day not long ago, and my mind was crowded with thoughts, arguments and counter arguments on the Women’s rights and equality and other issues. This whole argument, about who is superior – Woman or Man is so stale, I am sick of it…. It just gets to me!!! Whose larger than life egos are we trying to satisfy by establishing superiority over each other, even over other species and nature at large? Why does one always have to be better than the other? Why this never ending need to belittle each other to feel powerful? Why crush the other to rise higher? Why seek from and give respect to those who do the most disrespectful disgracing acts?
Human beings are differently gifted by God, and they do not follow the laws of a jungle where one is at the top of a food chain and the other at the bottom, where one is mightier than the other and only the fittest survives. The ‘society’ that we‘ve made for ourselves is an incredible precious gift. It is capable of
Yet a large number of civilised and uncivilised, educated, uneducated and undereducated, over privileged and under privileged encompassing, accepting and embracing even the weakest and the meekest, giving every man, woman and child equal opportunity. We can make this happen. ‘We’ are the society and we can be the change we want to see!!
Even today a large number of civilised and uncivilised, educated, undereducated and uneducated, literate and illiterate, over privileged and underprivileged, cultured and uncultured, losers and achievers, men and women, continue to suppress, oppress, exploit and inflict unimaginable forms of cruelty, physically and emotionally on each other. We are always keenly interested in and inclined to establishing supremacy among ourselves. In doing so we give ourselves the license to crush and kill- other’s thoughts, emotions, needs, freedom and independence. We take pleasure in this torture. Shame on us sadists!! WE are the stigma!!!! We can’t live in harmony with each other, among ourselves, forget doing that with Nature!!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Pam is learning to Drive
12 March 2010
Pam is slowly learning to drive in Germany! First you need a mental orientation of the left hand drive. I remember this one time late in the evening when we had hit the road and we suddenly realised something was not right. Pam and I looked at each other. In the distance we saw a car approaching us. It didn’t take us any longer to realise that we were on the wrong side…. ‘Go to the right’, I screamed!!!!
Second you need a through knowledge of the different road signs. This can be very very tricky. We were on this road and took a turn for Altona. We were going and going and suddenly there was a flash! For a split second we wondered if the Paparazzi had mistaken us for some celebrity. My posture straightened, I dusted the cookie crumbs off my top and my fingers combed my hair. I wondered if the colour of my lipstick had faded….. How innocent our minds can be! How sweet our aspirations are!! I smiled. Pam was surprised. Our wild train of thought was banished almost immediately when we realised that the motion sensors had done their job! We were driving at 45 on a road with the speed limit of 30km per hour. That meant a TICKET!!! I slumped back in the seat and sighed!
This was the second one in 4 days. The first was for parking at a place meant for Handicapped ( we just did not see that sign, till it dawned on us the next day.) This happened as the street was dark. No street-lights. Just like some streets in India. Thank god it was late in the evening and our car was not towed. Otherwise you have to pay the fine for wrong parking plus the towing charges, all amounting to not less than 175E.
Imagine having to remember to drive on the right, the traffic rules, the road signs and the speed limits! First month and 3 tickets down, our BMW and the Autobahns ceased to be as exciting for that moment…….
Pam is slowly learning to drive in Germany! First you need a mental orientation of the left hand drive. I remember this one time late in the evening when we had hit the road and we suddenly realised something was not right. Pam and I looked at each other. In the distance we saw a car approaching us. It didn’t take us any longer to realise that we were on the wrong side…. ‘Go to the right’, I screamed!!!!
Second you need a through knowledge of the different road signs. This can be very very tricky. We were on this road and took a turn for Altona. We were going and going and suddenly there was a flash! For a split second we wondered if the Paparazzi had mistaken us for some celebrity. My posture straightened, I dusted the cookie crumbs off my top and my fingers combed my hair. I wondered if the colour of my lipstick had faded….. How innocent our minds can be! How sweet our aspirations are!! I smiled. Pam was surprised. Our wild train of thought was banished almost immediately when we realised that the motion sensors had done their job! We were driving at 45 on a road with the speed limit of 30km per hour. That meant a TICKET!!! I slumped back in the seat and sighed!
This was the second one in 4 days. The first was for parking at a place meant for Handicapped ( we just did not see that sign, till it dawned on us the next day.) This happened as the street was dark. No street-lights. Just like some streets in India. Thank god it was late in the evening and our car was not towed. Otherwise you have to pay the fine for wrong parking plus the towing charges, all amounting to not less than 175E.
Imagine having to remember to drive on the right, the traffic rules, the road signs and the speed limits! First month and 3 tickets down, our BMW and the Autobahns ceased to be as exciting for that moment…….
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Amit in Hamburg
11 March 2010
Amit and my association is long. We’ve been friends since our first years in college. Together, we’ve bunked lectures and sat in the college canteen, eating bread cutlets. Together, we’ve had long walks, picnics and excursions. Together, along with Sagar, we’ve seen each other do the silliest of things. I had my first “gola”( that crushed- ice lolly dipped in a bright coloured sugary syrup, sprinkled with rock salt) with Amit! What courage it took me to eat that thing in its shocking orange colour, though Amit was very encouraging…. We’ve come a long way……Amit, Sagar and me, and later, Asma have practically spent each of our college days hanging out with each other.
It was wonderful to welcome him here in Hamburg. After a long time we caught up on old times. Though the weather played spoil sport, we toured a bit around the city. A visit to the old church of ‘St. Michel’ was an unforgettable experience! We decided to check out the tower there… Up we began climbing…and climbing…. and climbing… it was like the Jack, of The Jack and the Beanstalk, climbing that tall tall plant. Every landing promised another flight of stairs. Just as we thought that our ordeal was over, more stairs came in sight….
By the time all of us including Anoushka, reached the top, we were panting and sweating and laughing and hoping that this exercise would have made us at least 3kg 200gms lighter!!!
What this tower offered however…… was magnificent. The Elbe, the Alster, the containers and the busy port, the old buildings and churches with their lovely architecture, the gardens and greens, the new modern Hamburg…glimpses of it all, at a glance!!! Still trying to catch our breaths, our eyes took in the delightful sight. It was simply beautiful. A deep breath and we felt that we had captured the essence of the city. I could almost hear Amit singing – Aaj main upar….
We went round the tower, clicking photos that scream and tell – “I was there”, like typical tourists....posing in front of something…. with someone....
( other prepositions like on, over, under, at, to can also be used, depending on your position and location)
The cold wind and rain were more than playful and the chill prompted us to seek warmth...
Just as we were mentally preparing ourselves to walk down the ‘20 floors’ that we had somehow managed to climb, we made the most shocking discovery! The incredible invention made by Otis was right there!!!!!
Three dumb people had been ignorant of the elevator that exclusively and effortlessly ferried people up and down the Tower. We kicked ourselves…. Over and over again we realised how foolish we had been…..
The Fisch Market, the next morning was colourful and noisy as ever and Amit seemed to love the sight of fish, fresh fruits and vegetables. He felt completely at home with the shouting vendors, inviting customers to buy their produce. There is a lot of drama involved when the vendors talk of their produce…They take a lovely cane basket and start putting in the fruits one by one… It is like- “Yeh lo 2 kilo grapes , sabse meete aur badhiya, saath mein ek Ananas bhi, ek kilo oranges, one dozen of the finest Kiwis… Saath mein one dozen babanas bhi… Aur lo ek kilo Apples aur 2 Grape fruits. Is se achcha bajuwallah bhi nahi dega… Saath me basket bhi deta hoon… Sirf 10 E . Le lo le lo…”.
It is solid entertainment I tell you. Any Indian would feel at home here. This is perhaps the only place that can be called literally… “A Market’, in Indian terms.
Kalyan has a Monday Bazaar, here it is on Sunday… People party through Saturday night and come here on Sunday morning. This place is buzzing with activity as early as 5am. There a live band and people beer pike mast ….
He greedily relished the crepes lavishly stuffed with Nutella, a chocolate sauce. He stuffed himself with waffles and all this did more to him than gaining a few extra kilos. This young man slept throughout the Elbe river cruise that we took next…..
Amit and my association is long. We’ve been friends since our first years in college. Together, we’ve bunked lectures and sat in the college canteen, eating bread cutlets. Together, we’ve had long walks, picnics and excursions. Together, along with Sagar, we’ve seen each other do the silliest of things. I had my first “gola”( that crushed- ice lolly dipped in a bright coloured sugary syrup, sprinkled with rock salt) with Amit! What courage it took me to eat that thing in its shocking orange colour, though Amit was very encouraging…. We’ve come a long way……Amit, Sagar and me, and later, Asma have practically spent each of our college days hanging out with each other.
It was wonderful to welcome him here in Hamburg. After a long time we caught up on old times. Though the weather played spoil sport, we toured a bit around the city. A visit to the old church of ‘St. Michel’ was an unforgettable experience! We decided to check out the tower there… Up we began climbing…and climbing…. and climbing… it was like the Jack, of The Jack and the Beanstalk, climbing that tall tall plant. Every landing promised another flight of stairs. Just as we thought that our ordeal was over, more stairs came in sight….
By the time all of us including Anoushka, reached the top, we were panting and sweating and laughing and hoping that this exercise would have made us at least 3kg 200gms lighter!!!
What this tower offered however…… was magnificent. The Elbe, the Alster, the containers and the busy port, the old buildings and churches with their lovely architecture, the gardens and greens, the new modern Hamburg…glimpses of it all, at a glance!!! Still trying to catch our breaths, our eyes took in the delightful sight. It was simply beautiful. A deep breath and we felt that we had captured the essence of the city. I could almost hear Amit singing – Aaj main upar….
We went round the tower, clicking photos that scream and tell – “I was there”, like typical tourists....posing in front of something…. with someone....
( other prepositions like on, over, under, at, to can also be used, depending on your position and location)
The cold wind and rain were more than playful and the chill prompted us to seek warmth...
Just as we were mentally preparing ourselves to walk down the ‘20 floors’ that we had somehow managed to climb, we made the most shocking discovery! The incredible invention made by Otis was right there!!!!!
Three dumb people had been ignorant of the elevator that exclusively and effortlessly ferried people up and down the Tower. We kicked ourselves…. Over and over again we realised how foolish we had been…..
The Fisch Market, the next morning was colourful and noisy as ever and Amit seemed to love the sight of fish, fresh fruits and vegetables. He felt completely at home with the shouting vendors, inviting customers to buy their produce. There is a lot of drama involved when the vendors talk of their produce…They take a lovely cane basket and start putting in the fruits one by one… It is like- “Yeh lo 2 kilo grapes , sabse meete aur badhiya, saath mein ek Ananas bhi, ek kilo oranges, one dozen of the finest Kiwis… Saath mein one dozen babanas bhi… Aur lo ek kilo Apples aur 2 Grape fruits. Is se achcha bajuwallah bhi nahi dega… Saath me basket bhi deta hoon… Sirf 10 E . Le lo le lo…”.
It is solid entertainment I tell you. Any Indian would feel at home here. This is perhaps the only place that can be called literally… “A Market’, in Indian terms.
Kalyan has a Monday Bazaar, here it is on Sunday… People party through Saturday night and come here on Sunday morning. This place is buzzing with activity as early as 5am. There a live band and people beer pike mast ….
He greedily relished the crepes lavishly stuffed with Nutella, a chocolate sauce. He stuffed himself with waffles and all this did more to him than gaining a few extra kilos. This young man slept throughout the Elbe river cruise that we took next…..
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Koo Chook Chook
6 March 2010
We’ve given different names to the train stations here. Hauptbahnhof is CST, Altona is Kalyan, Klein Flottbek is Lonavla…. and so on. Probably we try to find some similarity, some Indianness in that, that doesn’t have any….
Before I narrate this incident I must enlighten you on some facts!! All the trains here are not of the same length! Some have more compartments than the others! First, there is no First Class and Second Class. So you cannot walk 2 feet taller like you do in Mumbai, with a First Class Season Ticket looking down upon the Second Class Pass holders. I have still to see a luggage dabba! Also there is no Ladies dabba. Ladies, Gents and all types of sexes travel in the common compartment. If the men back home learn of this, then there will be uproar. After all, who enjoys ogling at the ‘ladies’ through the dirty rusted jaalees?? Saamne baithke nazar ladayenge bhai! As if this is their birthright… Bloody A!@#$%S
We were waiting for our train. We wanted to go to view one of the houses- this seems to be a regular weekend activity till we finally find the one that’s suitable. The train arrived ….. but instead of a ‘bara dabba’ it was a ‘nau daaba’. All the passengers had to run to make it to the nearest door! Atleast in Mumbai they make announcements about things like these. Well, most of the times!
So after boarding the train we sat down and started planning our evening! We had to get off at ….. Our station was not far away. We stood in the middle of both doors. Will it come on the right side or left? I know which side of the train does Dadar, Matunga, Mahim, Kurla, Borivali come! But I had no clue on this one! Also in Mumbai one can ask- Bhaisaab, Thana kaunse saeed aayega? And then ‘Bhaisaab’- without uttering a word and giving minimum strain to his tired body- gesture by barely lifting his head and eyebrows. But here whom to ask? We had to wait till the train actually approached the platform. Thank God! we were quick to turn around and alight! If it were Mumbai, we would’ve had no such luck. The pushing crowds would have left us with no option but to get off at another station…If you board a train at Kalyan, Thane comes on the right hand side. Very rarely it comes on the other side, and I remember one such day that it did! On what special occasions did this happen I fail to understand. But on that unfortunate day, I thought the women in the compartment who were already yelling at me, would throw me off in the Thane creek as a punishment for my lack of judgement and commonsense.
We’ve given different names to the train stations here. Hauptbahnhof is CST, Altona is Kalyan, Klein Flottbek is Lonavla…. and so on. Probably we try to find some similarity, some Indianness in that, that doesn’t have any….
Before I narrate this incident I must enlighten you on some facts!! All the trains here are not of the same length! Some have more compartments than the others! First, there is no First Class and Second Class. So you cannot walk 2 feet taller like you do in Mumbai, with a First Class Season Ticket looking down upon the Second Class Pass holders. I have still to see a luggage dabba! Also there is no Ladies dabba. Ladies, Gents and all types of sexes travel in the common compartment. If the men back home learn of this, then there will be uproar. After all, who enjoys ogling at the ‘ladies’ through the dirty rusted jaalees?? Saamne baithke nazar ladayenge bhai! As if this is their birthright… Bloody A!@#$%S
We were waiting for our train. We wanted to go to view one of the houses- this seems to be a regular weekend activity till we finally find the one that’s suitable. The train arrived ….. but instead of a ‘bara dabba’ it was a ‘nau daaba’. All the passengers had to run to make it to the nearest door! Atleast in Mumbai they make announcements about things like these. Well, most of the times!
So after boarding the train we sat down and started planning our evening! We had to get off at ….. Our station was not far away. We stood in the middle of both doors. Will it come on the right side or left? I know which side of the train does Dadar, Matunga, Mahim, Kurla, Borivali come! But I had no clue on this one! Also in Mumbai one can ask- Bhaisaab, Thana kaunse saeed aayega? And then ‘Bhaisaab’- without uttering a word and giving minimum strain to his tired body- gesture by barely lifting his head and eyebrows. But here whom to ask? We had to wait till the train actually approached the platform. Thank God! we were quick to turn around and alight! If it were Mumbai, we would’ve had no such luck. The pushing crowds would have left us with no option but to get off at another station…If you board a train at Kalyan, Thane comes on the right hand side. Very rarely it comes on the other side, and I remember one such day that it did! On what special occasions did this happen I fail to understand. But on that unfortunate day, I thought the women in the compartment who were already yelling at me, would throw me off in the Thane creek as a punishment for my lack of judgement and commonsense.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Books and beyond...
1 March 2010
I read out a story to Anoushka- The Snow Queen. She falls asleep and I put the book down. I myself can’t go to sleep without reading. Just as I pick up my book I am flooded with memories of all those late nights that I had spent with page turners.
From the world of fairies and elves shown to me by Hans Christian Anderson and Enid Blyton, I slowly graduated to Famous Five, Five Find Outers, The Secret Seven, Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys, Tom S. and Huckleberry Finn, and Agatha Christie, when I was in the 5th standard. Initially it was a bit uncomfortable, for the familiar Fairyland was nowhere in sight. Those tiny fairies wearing necklaces made of dewdrops, sipping nectar while sitting on toadstools and sleeping in Buttercups on pillows filled with fluffy clouds, were now replaced by human beings and mysteries that surrounded by them - mysteries that were solved in the most fascinating ways. These books were such page turners for the detective in every child. I have lived these mysteries running through dark tunnels, looking for clues, changing into disguises, hiding behind curtains, practising ventriloquism , putting the pieces together…. The characters, the setting, the culture was so English, and I got so used to reading about jam, scones, sandwiches, bacon, tarts and Ginger ale, ( though I had never even had most of them), that our very own Upma and Kande pohe seemed alien. My mouth used to water at these unknown delicacies and I used to want to go bicycling by the countryside and camp in tents. The lovely Tinkle was a must read everyday and remained an integral part of my life for many years.
My brain is ever craving for information. It seeks learning – wisdom. I am ashamed at not knowing so many things. I feel guilty of not providing enough food for it. I wish I could remember all the things I have seen, read, heard and known… I wish I was very intelligent. I wish I could read every good book written and understand it. Books are enormous reserves of knowledge. They hold a mirror not just to what we are surrounded by, but also our inner self. With imagination par excellence they explore the known and the unknown, the real, surreal and unreal. They offer catharsis and a vent to various emotions and also provide great perspectives and insight about the world that we live and enrich our life.
My transition further was much easier. Master story tellers like Sidney Sheldon, Michael Crichton, Jeffrey Archers took me on unknown journeys of thrill and delight. True Lies, Lost World, Nakamoto Murder Mystery, Jurasic Park, Kane and Able, Shall I Tell The President engrossed me with their description and details and Ian Flemimg’s Bond series, all were sensational. And then came Any Rand and her very individualistic style and strong characters, I was attracted to Roark in a strange way. Eric Seagul’s sad Love Story made me cry. After my dear friend Sagar presented to me Illusions, I went on a spiritual trip. It was the first and best book that preached positive thinking. I used to wonder where Donald Shimoda must have parked his plane and if there really lives one Jonathan, among all species of animals, questioning his existence and refusing to follow the much treaded path. Rebelling and daring to be different. Whenever there is strange news of a tigress feeding a piglet, a lioness befriending a deer, an inseparable cat and dog cuddled up together, or the dog who loves to sing and play piano or snowboard, or a wild croc who communicates with this man with special abilities, I wonder if these are the Jonathan Livingstones of their species.
Shakespeare and his plays and Sonnets, Wuthering Heights, Desire Under The Elms, Farewell To Arms Emma, D. H Lawrence’s, Sons And Lovers, Pride And Prejudice and many other books were study material for the literature student in me. I also thoroughly enjoyed quite a few biographies and autobiographies. From Marilyn Monroe to Mikhail Gorbachev, Hitler to Lata Mangeshkar and Richard Nixon these made very interesting reading.
Across The Bridge Forever is a love story like none other of unfathomable depth. And amidst The English August, several masterpieces by R.K Narayan including The Guide, Mario Puzo’s Godfather, I kept getting lost in the fantastic worlds that these authors created. Then there was Alchemist, and a series of such books – Chicken Soup…, The Monk…The Secret… that reiterated that believing was achieving and life had to have a purpose. The Female Eunuch and Myth= Mithya are some of the most thought provoking books that I read. The former concentrates on how ‘the masculine’ dominates our lives. A male dog is dog, but the female is a bitch, Master- is respectful but Mistress is not. Human beings are referred to as ‘Man’. Man is a social animal…. It is interesting how things around us, our language, even our religion can be very ‘Male’. In German the personal pronoun for a girl is ‘it’. Imagine this-It is pretty! I love it! I’ll take it!!! No wonder women are nothing but objects… The later gives insight into the Hindu religion. Both these books were disturbing to my mind.
Now of course reading is more fashionable-and that is good. The Sea Of Poppies, The White tiger, Memoirs of a Geisha…. I am glad more and more good and great books are being written and read. Even today I pick up a Tinkle or IIlusions and read it with the same excitement…. the same commitment.
These books have transported me into a different world every time I read them. I have practically lived all these books and the many lives of the characters in it. Every book….. many lives…..
I read out a story to Anoushka- The Snow Queen. She falls asleep and I put the book down. I myself can’t go to sleep without reading. Just as I pick up my book I am flooded with memories of all those late nights that I had spent with page turners.
From the world of fairies and elves shown to me by Hans Christian Anderson and Enid Blyton, I slowly graduated to Famous Five, Five Find Outers, The Secret Seven, Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys, Tom S. and Huckleberry Finn, and Agatha Christie, when I was in the 5th standard. Initially it was a bit uncomfortable, for the familiar Fairyland was nowhere in sight. Those tiny fairies wearing necklaces made of dewdrops, sipping nectar while sitting on toadstools and sleeping in Buttercups on pillows filled with fluffy clouds, were now replaced by human beings and mysteries that surrounded by them - mysteries that were solved in the most fascinating ways. These books were such page turners for the detective in every child. I have lived these mysteries running through dark tunnels, looking for clues, changing into disguises, hiding behind curtains, practising ventriloquism , putting the pieces together…. The characters, the setting, the culture was so English, and I got so used to reading about jam, scones, sandwiches, bacon, tarts and Ginger ale, ( though I had never even had most of them), that our very own Upma and Kande pohe seemed alien. My mouth used to water at these unknown delicacies and I used to want to go bicycling by the countryside and camp in tents. The lovely Tinkle was a must read everyday and remained an integral part of my life for many years.
My brain is ever craving for information. It seeks learning – wisdom. I am ashamed at not knowing so many things. I feel guilty of not providing enough food for it. I wish I could remember all the things I have seen, read, heard and known… I wish I was very intelligent. I wish I could read every good book written and understand it. Books are enormous reserves of knowledge. They hold a mirror not just to what we are surrounded by, but also our inner self. With imagination par excellence they explore the known and the unknown, the real, surreal and unreal. They offer catharsis and a vent to various emotions and also provide great perspectives and insight about the world that we live and enrich our life.
My transition further was much easier. Master story tellers like Sidney Sheldon, Michael Crichton, Jeffrey Archers took me on unknown journeys of thrill and delight. True Lies, Lost World, Nakamoto Murder Mystery, Jurasic Park, Kane and Able, Shall I Tell The President engrossed me with their description and details and Ian Flemimg’s Bond series, all were sensational. And then came Any Rand and her very individualistic style and strong characters, I was attracted to Roark in a strange way. Eric Seagul’s sad Love Story made me cry. After my dear friend Sagar presented to me Illusions, I went on a spiritual trip. It was the first and best book that preached positive thinking. I used to wonder where Donald Shimoda must have parked his plane and if there really lives one Jonathan, among all species of animals, questioning his existence and refusing to follow the much treaded path. Rebelling and daring to be different. Whenever there is strange news of a tigress feeding a piglet, a lioness befriending a deer, an inseparable cat and dog cuddled up together, or the dog who loves to sing and play piano or snowboard, or a wild croc who communicates with this man with special abilities, I wonder if these are the Jonathan Livingstones of their species.
Shakespeare and his plays and Sonnets, Wuthering Heights, Desire Under The Elms, Farewell To Arms Emma, D. H Lawrence’s, Sons And Lovers, Pride And Prejudice and many other books were study material for the literature student in me. I also thoroughly enjoyed quite a few biographies and autobiographies. From Marilyn Monroe to Mikhail Gorbachev, Hitler to Lata Mangeshkar and Richard Nixon these made very interesting reading.
Across The Bridge Forever is a love story like none other of unfathomable depth. And amidst The English August, several masterpieces by R.K Narayan including The Guide, Mario Puzo’s Godfather, I kept getting lost in the fantastic worlds that these authors created. Then there was Alchemist, and a series of such books – Chicken Soup…, The Monk…The Secret… that reiterated that believing was achieving and life had to have a purpose. The Female Eunuch and Myth= Mithya are some of the most thought provoking books that I read. The former concentrates on how ‘the masculine’ dominates our lives. A male dog is dog, but the female is a bitch, Master- is respectful but Mistress is not. Human beings are referred to as ‘Man’. Man is a social animal…. It is interesting how things around us, our language, even our religion can be very ‘Male’. In German the personal pronoun for a girl is ‘it’. Imagine this-It is pretty! I love it! I’ll take it!!! No wonder women are nothing but objects… The later gives insight into the Hindu religion. Both these books were disturbing to my mind.
Now of course reading is more fashionable-and that is good. The Sea Of Poppies, The White tiger, Memoirs of a Geisha…. I am glad more and more good and great books are being written and read. Even today I pick up a Tinkle or IIlusions and read it with the same excitement…. the same commitment.
These books have transported me into a different world every time I read them. I have practically lived all these books and the many lives of the characters in it. Every book….. many lives…..
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)