tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21022553594490828172024-03-29T04:46:18.774-07:00Gaurav' Motley....Having penned eight widely acclaimed books, Gaurav Sharma is an author musings and emotions. Tea, calculus & words are the tipples that keep him high. As a writer, he wants his stories to create a stir.
RAPESCARS…They Never Heal, DAWN AT DUSK, and LOVE @ AIR FORCE and an anthology of children’s stories UNBUDGETED INNOCENCE.
IT ALL HAPPENED IN A SCHOOL.
'वहीदा ', 'फूस और जुगनू ', ' धर्मेन्द्र' are his Hindi poetry collections
Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.comBlogger142125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-64555953524177501012023-11-19T08:51:00.000-08:002023-11-19T09:14:09.568-08:00ONE TOUGH DAY THAT BROKE THE DREAM OF A BILLION PEOPLE <p> </p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">ONE TOUGH DAY THAT BROKE THE DREAM OF A BILLION PEOPLE</span> </span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #741b47;">Well Played, team India. We are proud of the way you played in this tournament. Unfortunately, the worst had to come in the finals.</span></p><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">The defeat in a cricket World Cup final match teaches resilience, the importance of preparation, and the ability to learn from mistakes. It's a reminder that success often involves overcoming setbacks, adapting strategies, and continuously improving to excel in high-pressure situations.</span><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">Out-of-the-box thinking in high-pressure games is crucial because it allows players to find innovative solutions, adapt quickly, and outsmart opponents. In intense situations, conventional strategies may not always work, and the ability to think creatively can lead to unexpected and successful outcomes. This mindset helps in making split-second decisions, capitalizing on opportunities, and staying ahead of the competition, ultimately contributing to a team's success in high-stakes scenarios.<br /></div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="-apple-system, "system-ui", blinkmacsystemfont, "segoe ui", roboto, oxygen-sans, ubuntu, cantarell, "helvetica neue", sans-serif" style="background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: bold;"></span><blockquote><span face="-apple-system, "system-ui", blinkmacsystemfont, "segoe ui", roboto, oxygen-sans, ubuntu, cantarell, "helvetica neue", sans-serif" style="background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: bold;">Cricket is like life. You have to learn to deal with the good and the bad."</span><span face="-apple-system, "system-ui", blinkmacsystemfont, "segoe ui", roboto, oxygen-sans, ubuntu, cantarell, "helvetica neue", sans-serif" style="background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 15px;"> - Virat Kohli</span></blockquote><span face="-apple-system, "system-ui", blinkmacsystemfont, "segoe ui", roboto, oxygen-sans, ubuntu, cantarell, "helvetica neue", sans-serif" style="background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 15px;"></span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="-apple-system, "system-ui", blinkmacsystemfont, "segoe ui", roboto, oxygen-sans, ubuntu, cantarell, "helvetica neue", sans-serif" style="background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #282829; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span face="-apple-system, "system-ui", blinkmacsystemfont, "segoe ui", roboto, oxygen-sans, ubuntu, cantarell, "helvetica neue", sans-serif" style="background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #274e13; font-size: 15px;">In a 50 over game, you cannot wait for the batsman to commit a mistake. You have to make him commit a mistake </span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="color: #274e13;"> Cricket is about applying, innovating and rising to the occasion. It is not just about breaking records.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="color: #274e13;"> Captain Rohit Sharma's stubbornness to reiterate that he is HITMAN proved costly on the D-day. No doubt, he gave good starts and set the tempo. His fireworks in the first powerplay took pressure off the following batsman and allowed them time to get set. He threw his wicket away when only three balls were remaining in the first powerplay. Even a club cricketer knows that when you get ten runs on the first two balls, you should get a single to stand on the other end, especially when you are batting first.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="color: #274e13;">After losing three quick wickets, Virat Kohli and K.L. Rahul batted too defensively that they didn't get a boundary for twenty two overs. Sorry, but your records don't make you great. </span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="color: #274e13;"> After ten overs, Indian bowlers looked different than the ten previous games in the tournament. Kuldeep Yadav, Mohammad Siraj and Ravindra Jadeja were spineless and never seemed like wicket-taking bowlers.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="color: #274e13;">Intelligent batting by Travis Head and Marnus Labuschagne took the game away from India.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="color: #274e13;">Australian fielding was a big difference in the two teams. They saved at least thirty runs by running hard and throwing themselves on the field. And, Travis Head's running catch to send the Indian captain back did the same for Aussies what Kapil Dev's catch of Viv Richards did for Indians in 1983.</span></div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto"><span style="color: #b45f06;">This is not criticism but my personal assessment of the high voltage game. I really wanted to see my heroes lifting the World Cup.</span></div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">I stand with the men in blue. It was a tough day and one team had to end up as losers. They are champions and we are proud of them.<br /></div><div dir="auto"><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;" /></div>Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-38766604544284229072023-07-07T22:16:00.004-07:002023-07-07T22:18:25.710-07:00KUNTI- REVIEW<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">KUNTI</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIDTnpBHdZPztPEFwxo_SAImtmsQsFNu30IKfo_zqUMDLvcPOBu2xUYGvX5lgVVfBjzmw9ic4ZaMZ-W3zXNIcZE2r52zgOK012zG-mRbYTKWVujiOkqcM1_sm29OVgb4P87W5Ah_SYgPWseK_9tH2guONrBZ7P2vnsrO0Yy9pd9QhazAH6-9KfBm1drk/s1724/Screenshot_2023-07-08-10-22-45-31_fd1e8ef594b195c55a3bba4818d0ce35.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1724" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIDTnpBHdZPztPEFwxo_SAImtmsQsFNu30IKfo_zqUMDLvcPOBu2xUYGvX5lgVVfBjzmw9ic4ZaMZ-W3zXNIcZE2r52zgOK012zG-mRbYTKWVujiOkqcM1_sm29OVgb4P87W5Ah_SYgPWseK_9tH2guONrBZ7P2vnsrO0Yy9pd9QhazAH6-9KfBm1drk/s320/Screenshot_2023-07-08-10-22-45-31_fd1e8ef594b195c55a3bba4818d0ce35.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p><span style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"> KU</span></p><p><span style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #3d85c6;">By Koral Dasgupta </span></span></p><p><span><span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: #cccccc; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: #cccccc; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: #cccccc; font-size: x-large;">KUNTI</span><span style="color: #252525;"> is the second of the five-book series on Panchkanya by Koral Dasgupta.</span></p>
<p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">KUNTI is a mythological book, not fiction, that educates and enlightens the readers. One would wonder how empowered and evolved Indian women were hundreds of centuries ago and what made them devolve.</p>
<p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">Koral writes in ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #252525;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: trebuchet;">THE STORIES OF FAMINE LEGENDS HAVE BEEN OVERLOOKED GENEROUSLY FOR PATRIARCHAL CONVENIENCE, INSPIRING THE WOMEN TO CELEBRATE THE BRAVERY OF ONLY ONE SECTION OF THE SOCIETY AND FEEL GUILTY ABOUT HER OWN."</span></p>
<p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">This is a harsh truth we all will agree to somewhere in our consciences and will feel a pang of guilt after reading about characters like Kunti, a woman of rare intellect, wisdom, confidence, and resilience. What Kunti had acquired from Durvasa, no other woman has ever acquired, and mind you, she got it because she deserved it.</p>
<p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">KUNTI is a captivating novel that takes readers on a journey through the life of the famous mother of the revered Karna and the lovable Pandavas. When you finish this 203-page novel, Kunti will have a better opinion of you, and not just as the ill-fated queen of Pandu.</p>
<p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">Koral Dasgupta's brilliance surfaces frequently in the book. She surprises you with undiscussed aspects and by adding new dimensions to this folklore. The rivalry between Surya and Indra is an integral part of Kunti's story. The aspect that impresses me the most is Koral's depiction of the effect of the mother's state of mind at the time of conception on the child's psychology, behaviour, and attributes. She has elaborately related it to Ganga-Bhishma, Satyvati-Vichitravirya, Ambika-Dhritrashtra, Ambalika-Pandu, Kunti-Karna, and other Pandavas.</p>
<p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">Another standout feature of KUNTI is the author's ability to bring the characters to life with vivid and evocative descriptions. The author has confessed that she reinvents KUNTI with a feminist consciousness. She portrays Kunti as a strong and independent woman navigating societal expectations, unabashedly expressing her obsession for Indra and abhorring other men, even her husband.</p>
<p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">I wondered why the ancient women were infatuated with Indra and quickly consoled myself with the fact that Krishna was not incarnated in their time.</p>
<p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">Koral's writing style is both poetic and lyrical, effortlessly transporting readers to different time periods and locations. The attention to detail in her descriptions creates a rich tapestry that immerses readers in the sights, sounds, and smells of Indian culture. The author has generously and felicitously described nature and its bounty.</p>
<p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">Another noteworthy aspect of KUNTI is how it tackles important social issues such as gender inequality and familial obligations. Through Kunti's journey, readers are challenged to reflect on their own beliefs and prejudices while gaining a deeper understanding of the complexities of Indian society. Sadly, the book ended with Arjuna's birth and left me unsatisfied.</p>
<p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">KUNTI is a thought-provoking and beautifully written novel that offers an insightful exploration of love, identity, and societal expectations. Highly recommended, this book will enlighten you like a mythological book should.</p><p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">Also read, my review on AHLYA:</p><p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">https://gauravmotley.blogspot.com/2020/08/ahalya-by-koral-dasgupta-review.html?m=1</p><p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;"><br /></p><p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;"><br /></p><p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;"><br /></p><p dir="auto" style="color: #252525;">#mythology #books #indianmythology #kunti #pandavas #mahabharat #krishna #hastinapur #indra #surya</p>Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-81760390029677751512023-06-21T00:41:00.001-07:002023-06-21T00:41:42.488-07:00MY BELOVED CITY- PUNE <p> </p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;"><b>MY BELOVED CITY- PUNE </b></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b>Besides being my birthplace, the culture, the liveliness, the emotional quotient, the street food, diversity, history and magnanimity of its heart, make Delhi my favourite city. And then comes Pune, where I have done a major part of my schooling.</b></span></span></p><p id="isPasted" style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b>My father served in the Indian Air Force. He was posted in Pune from 1985 to 1988.</b></span></p><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></b></span></div><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b>Pune, then, seemed like heaven. The Air Force station at Lohagaon, then, was at one corner, away from the hulla bullah of a city quieter but ahead of Delhi. Mountains were within a stone's throw. The solitude of jungles was not a luxury. Meeting snakes and scorpions was not unusual.The dialect, Hindi with an excess smack of Marathi, was initially fun for us and gradually made us adapt to it.</b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b>Pune fascinated us. We had accepted its superiority over Delhi.We didn't want to leave it when my father got a transfer to Gwalior after four years. But, we had to.</b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b>Pune is a city that embodies its own unique charm and beauty. From its vibrant culture to its rich history, there are many reasons why I love this city. Pune is home to a diverse mix of people, making it a great destination for those looking to experience something new. The city boasts beautiful landscapes, amazing street food, and plenty of entertainment options. Whether you’re looking for adventure or just want to relax and take in the local culture, there’s something for everyone in Pune.</b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b> I never went there and found Delhiism back in me faster than it had vanished.Then, in 2019, I happened to visit my second favourite city, feeling the pangs of meeting a long lost love. </b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b>However, the two-day-long visit was not enough to feel the aura and ambience of Pune.</b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b>Once my beloved city, it called me again this month. I managed to steal three days out of my busy schedule.Pune had changed. It had grown big as I had crossed over to senescence.Mountains had hidden behind the glory and greed of concrete. Natural greenery seemed manipulated. The reptiles had refuged in some unknown space. People, who were already less emotional than delhites, appeared more practical, straightforward and even less sentimental. </b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b>Street food was as abundant as concrete, bitumen, bars and noise. One thing that surprised me was the two-wheeler-riders not wearing head gears. I was desperate to check the traffic rules but had no time.</b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b>Pune remains my beloved city but the visit left me worried and sad. Pune is losing its charm. It is not the same as it used to be. The obsession of development is swallowing its scenic beauty. It is no longer a nature's paradise.Wake-up, Pune.Please don't become another Mumbai or Delhi.I liked you the way you were- simple and sophisticated. Despite everything, I will keep loving you.</b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: medium;"><b>#pune #Maharashtra #maharashtragovernment #maharashtratourism #PuneMunicipality #Puneadministration #PunePolice #Maharashtrapolice </b></span></p>Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-25686340632896491632022-03-11T21:13:00.006-08:002022-03-11T21:16:10.000-08:00Zelensky-The Villain in Putin's War<p> <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><b>Zelensky – The Villain in Putin’s War</b></span></p><p><br /></p><p>It’s been more than a fortnight since the weak but brave Ukraine is facing the ire of the stubborn President of Russia.</p><p>For the last two weeks, the world is watching the tearful exodus, the beautiful cities being ruined, children being orphaned, unarmed civilians rebuking the invading soldiers and amidst these disheartening scenes, a President appears and appeals to the mightier countries for aid, often in informal outfits. </p><p>The so-called brave President has won the sympathy and favour of the world but he has chosen to pay a hefty price to buy this trivial individual praise. </p><p>Volodymyr Oleksandrovych Zelensky, the popular comedian and a famous TV face had made an exemplary leap to become the supremo of his country about three years back. </p><p>His country, the second largest in Europe, is at war with its larger neighbour since 2014. No doubt, Zelensky has been an inspirational leader right since the war began. He has invoked patriotism in his countrymen but, heroics sounds good in folklore. When you are the head of a country, every decision you take must pass through multiple rounds of deliberation, discussion, reflection and introspection as it would affect millions of your compatriots. </p><p><br /></p><p>Both Russia and Ukraine could have avoided this war. When Zelensky was elected, there were doubts that he is pro-Russia. Maybe the pressure of proving the speculation wrong was too much that Zelensky never tried to improve relations with Big Brother Russia and instead, urged NATO to make it a member ignoring all the past agreements. A step towards peace, and disenchantment from joining NATO while not comprising his country’s interest might have made Zelensky a bigger hero. This war will throw Ukraine half a century back. They pouring financial aid from sympathetic countries might reinstate the concrete but it would not heal the wounds on the soul and mind of Ukrainians. </p><p>Zelensky must realise that a real war is not a TV show where everything is an eyewash. People don’t die. Cities don’t moan and mourn. In a real war, every single bullet leaves an irrecoverable wound somewhere. </p><p>Vladimir Putin has emerged as the cruellest man alive by waging an unprovoked war on Ukraine. He is wrong. Wrong. As claimed, a full-fledged army action on a weaker neighbouring country is arrogance and tyranny. However strong you are, if violence is the only way you know you are not fit to live in this world. </p><p>Putin is not wrong if he opposes Ukraine’s intention and interest in joining NATO. There have been arguments that whether to join an organisation or not is a country’s choice. Fair enough. Then, it is the choice of another country to oppose and prevent it if the association might threaten its sovereignty and safety.</p><p>Considering NATO’s objectives and record, Russia cannot be held wrong. If treaties and organisations create a divide amongst the communities and countries, they are worthless. Russia’s cause is no different from the cause that gave birth to NATO. If the economic and strategic powers of the west have a right to put their safety and interests before everything and anything, then the Eastern countries too must be granted discretion. </p><p>Why this world needs military organisations like NATO?</p><p>Fact is, the ringmaster has successfully played the game. The war will not resolve the conflict between Russia and Ukraine but will leave them weaker. Trap proved successful. The neighbours have been befooled.</p><p>I see Zelensky as the bigger Villain in this war because he allowed himself to be used against Russia while desperately trying to prove the speculations of him being pro-Russia.</p><p>No, I am not Putin’s fan. He is behaving the same he is known. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Views expressed are personal </p><p>#war #Russia #Ukraine #RussiaUkraineWar #zelensky #putin #NATO</p><div><br /></div>Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-76135979601302564222021-02-18T09:47:00.001-08:002023-06-21T19:25:17.262-07:00AFTER I DIED<p> </p><p><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: x-large;"><b>AFTER I DIED</b></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p dir="ltr"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">People didn't give excuse<br />
And came sooner than expected<br />
My kins are taking care of <br />
Even dead me.</span></p>
<p dir="ltr"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">Besides, everyone has stories<br />
About me and my goodness <br />
Consoling each other <br />
Great actors they're. </span></p>
<p dir="ltr"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">I am enjoying<br />
But I do have a regret... <br />
I wish I could tell them<br />
They can't befool me anymore. </span></p><p dir="ltr"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p dir="ltr"><span style="color: red;">© <span style="background-color: #38761d;">Gaurav Lakhi</span></span></p>Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-91013801968453199362020-10-29T02:39:00.000-07:002020-10-29T03:08:33.320-07:00YOUR FEE-THEIR SALARY<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 36.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 36.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 36.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">YOUR
FEE-THEIR SALARY</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> <span style="color: #990000;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #990000;">The Fee you pay is the salary that runs their
household</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The economic
impact of corona pandemic has largely been disruptive and lately, its social
and non-medico repercussions have started showing up. India was witnessing a
slowdown already and the virus-crisis has magnified the risks to its economy.
In the last three months since Covid-19 was declared a pandemic, we have
realised that it is far more than a health crisis. Economics is a phenomenon of
interdependence. Effect of the pandemic on one stratum of society is bound to
spell vulnerability on to the others. The ongoing standoff between parents and
schools is one such consequence.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Like the
medical fraternity, teachers too didn’t get their share of lockdown-leisure
over which we all went gaga. In fact, they had to work even harder. Working
from home is not a joke, more so when it befalls upon you suddenly.
Online-teaching, from home, in particular, demands special arrangements. You
have to spare one room out of two or three people generally have in cities and
cut off all sorts of disturbances. You must also have a good internet
connection and compatible gadgets. Online teaching is many times more taxing
than physical teaching. It demands more discipline and patience on the part of
the teachers. They cannot even move away from the camera and have to keep a
vigil on the attendees all the time. The most challenging of all is taking and
marking the tests. The task must have been more onerous for the lady teachers
because normally, they and their kids go to school simultaneously. But, during
the lockdown, dealing with spouse and children, neglected for hours, would have
been another ordeal they had to deal with.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Their
problems didn’t end here. When they asked for their salary after doing their
job with sincerity and devotion, their employers showed them their bare hands.
Non-receipt of fees was the excuse they laid down. Parents, the other party,
complained of being too tied down. They too didn’t receive their emoluments
from their employers. Many had lost their jobs. Many had to shut down their
businesses. With no income to sustain, expecting such people to pay their
children’s school fee is inhumane. One such parent in Chandigarh has written a
letter to the Prime Minister seeking permission to sell his kidney for paying
school fees. Laughable? No. It’s pathetic.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">However,
NO-SCHOOL-NO-FEE campaign by the parents across the country is selfishness and
illogical. If a few parents offer a plea that they have no job or no earning,
then, their inability, genuine or fabricated it may be, to pay the school fees
might encourage more people to come up with the same excuse. The teachers are
also employees, and they are paid when their employers are paid. One aspect of
this issue is that the teachers also have school-going children. If they do not
get their salaries, then they too, would not be able to pay the school fee of
their wards.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Parents
didn’t get their salaries because they didn’t or couldn’t work because of the
lockdown but the teachers have been working during this period and hence, are
entitled to their emoluments. They have worked hard, upgraded themselves for
the cumbersome task, have spent money from their pocket on internet data. It is
disheartening to hear the teachers pleading with the students to pay their fees
during the online classes. We owe much more than the salary to the teachers.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">You may call
it digging up the buried blunders if I say that the only cause of this
situation is the unthoughtful privatisation of education. The decision was like
setting the timer for the doomsday which is yet to arrive. The government
generously allowed privatisation of education and neglected the government
schools. Just a few years after it was done, education became a profitable
business which also yielded respect and recognition in premium. Today, starting
a middle-level private school is as easy as opening a grocery shop.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Why the
government should be blamed alone?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Aren’t we all responsible for making the private schools indispensable?
Why do we not send our children to government schools? Why is it considered
that government schools are only for the children whose parents can’t afford to
pay the hefty fees of the private schools? Two main reasons for this situation
are allowing too much liberty to the private educational institutions and
overlooking of the government educational institutions. On one side we say that
education is a fundamental right and on the other, we have private institutions
in a country of 70 crore poor people.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The economy
of private schools is an open economy and there is no bar on the fee they
charge. In addition, they enjoy various subsidies, concessions on tariffs, tax
exemptions and provision of getting land at concessional price. With all these
benefits, private schools reap handsome profits. They overburden the employees
and recruit temporary staff to cut their salary bills. Other than the tuition
fee and the transport fee which are legitimate, they levy Pupil Fund, Library
Fee, Science Fee, Examination Fee and constantly devise the ways to rob the
parents. In addition, they charge an unreasonable amount in the name of Annual
Charges and Development Fund. As if their greed was not enough, the government
has blessed them with the permission of increasing fee every year. Their cry of
inadequate funds due to non-payment of the fee is a cold lie and is a matter of
scrutiny. Any private school with an age of ten years or more and having six
hundred to eight hundred students must be able to pay its employees for three
to six months without receiving any fee. It is just that they do not want to
consume the money they have accumulated.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">There is no
detector to ascertain who is capable of paying the fee despite the economic
crisis and who is not. But exempting all the parents from paying a hundred per
cent fee would be unfair. It was their decision to admit their wards in a
private school and in this time of adversity they cannot shrug off their
financial obligation towards these school. How can they show such callous
ingratitude towards the teachers whom they have always applauded and boasted of
the high standards of their teaching methods?<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The parents
are liable to pay only the tuition fee for the whole period until the schools
do not start functioning. The school administration must also consider that the
parents pay the fee for the summer break, autumn break and other vacations
every year without asking questions, and they are complaining this time because
they are in dire financial straits like everyone. The government must step in if
the schools demand other charges too. This pandemic has done the damage, and now,
we all have to come together to mend as much as is possible.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Whatever
solution the concerned parties arrive at, they must ensure that the teachers are
not deprived of their rightful emoluments and no child is forced to leave
school because of his parent’s inability to pay the fee. We, as a country, must
realise that education is not only the fundamental right but it is a
fundamental need. It is also an opportune time for the government to relook its
excessively non-restrictive policies towards private institutions.</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com292tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-87410663417053504102020-08-26T22:33:00.005-07:002020-08-26T22:43:57.235-07:00AHALYA BY KORAL DASGUPTA-REVIEW<p> </p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="color: #ff00fe;">BOOK REVIEW</span> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="color: #cc0000;">AHALYA</span></span></p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #b45f06; text-align: left;">By Koral Dasgupta</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin9Zp4hH-PMuIUsv4kGdXGyy596vHXADbzM9JC32uHfVd7_YVZx2PAJ8oKhBQaNqLBt-NpAwxyYUuErkWVgO9ih-apSGVNgJkiAY2eiT9w4xaRxUDvs7g0fm3QRQTZ10vKWUb7G74KWzc/s499/41%252B9SLRMg8L._SX310_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin9Zp4hH-PMuIUsv4kGdXGyy596vHXADbzM9JC32uHfVd7_YVZx2PAJ8oKhBQaNqLBt-NpAwxyYUuErkWVgO9ih-apSGVNgJkiAY2eiT9w4xaRxUDvs7g0fm3QRQTZ10vKWUb7G74KWzc/s0/41%252B9SLRMg8L._SX310_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b>Koral Dasgupta’s first of the Sati Series books, AHALYA is a
powerful rendition of feminism. AHALYA eloquently introduces the readers with
the social apparatus and the status of women thousands of years ago.</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="color: #134f5c;">AHALYA is the first mythological fiction which I have read
until the last page. The reason I could not bear with the books written by even
the most famous of my contemporary authors is that I hate any degree of
adulteration in mythology and history. I do not approve of it. Secondly, I
believe that the English language does not have the extent to accommodate the
sanctity and spirit of Indian mythology. Not that I do not love English as a
language; I respect the richness of Indian folklore. Every language has a soul
and English certainly does not have a right soul for Indian mythology. AHALYA
succeeded to sustain my interest in spite of my deep-rooted beliefs because of
the masterly storytelling by Koral Dasgupta. I am not condescending but these are my
honest thoughts. I am sorry if that
offends my author friends.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> </b></span></o:p><b style="color: #134f5c;">The most striking feature of AHALYA is that the author has
not altered the story at all as most of the mythological-fiction-writers do.
Retelling an already known story is not a cinch. It needs self-belief. The
readers would pick the book, not for the story but the storytelling. Every line
in AHALYA breathes on the marvel of the writing of its authoress. Her prose is
poetic. The words have a befitting rhythm that binds your intrigue. Soothing
music punctuates the emotional narrative. As I began, I wondered why the author
had chosen the first-person narrative. I got my answers when I finished. Koral
excels as a mouthpiece of AHALYA so authoritatively that you tend to feel you
are reading Ahalya's autobiography.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> </b></span></o:p><b style="color: #134f5c;">This is Koral’s third book that I have read and AHALYA
mesmerised the reader in me the most. It started from page 12 where she writes-
“Mortals had a name for them- ‘tears’- I learnt much later”.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> </b></span></o:p><b style="color: #134f5c;">Then, she describes ‘WOMEN’ emphatically and carefully, not
using a hackneyed script on page 22.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> </b></span></o:p><b style="color: #134f5c;">Page 28, where she introduces INDRA- “He plays with a woman
as a child does with water.”</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> </b></span></o:p><b style="color: #134f5c;">And, the inspiring unbiased wisdom of BRAHMA on page 30-
“Everyone is born perfect. They pick up the imperfections along the course”.
Also on page 36- “Your success lies in negotiating the contrast.”</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> </b></span></o:p><b style="color: #134f5c;">While introducing GAUTAM on page 35, she completes the
differentiation between a father, a mother and a husband.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> </b></span></o:p><b style="color: #134f5c;">At times, AHALYA
appears to be a rebel, the shadow of the 21st-century woman. A woman does
desire a man but she would not necessarily plead for bonhomie. She wants her
man to acknowledge her larger contribution in maintaining the continuity of the
human race. She wants the man to surrender to her beauty and body.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> </b></span></o:p><b style="color: #134f5c;">AHALYA, as a woman who was accused of infidelity by her
husband, deserves as many chances as she demands to present her side of the
story. The first-person narrative that too from a woman-author served to
AHALYA's advantage. After reading the book, I am curious to hear Maharishi
Gautam's justification for cursing his wife.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="color: #134f5c;">Koral's AHALYA has only five characters. Ahalya's feminism
sees the two females-Mist and Mandakini as kind souls but Brahma and Gautam are
emotionless. She complains that her creator Brahma is an artist more than a
father and her husband thinks of her as an obstacle to his path of
achievements. The loneliness of AHALYA after she lands at Gautam's hermitage
has been soulfully described. You pity her. You want to reach her to end her
misery.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="color: #134f5c;"><b> </b></span></o:p><b style="color: #134f5c;">AHALYA is a tremendous gift to the readers who search for
literary beauty in the prose. It is a book to be read thoroughly, a book which
will make you take notes, to ponder while reading and will force you to go into
the skin of a character. It is not merely the famous story of an ill-fated
mythological character but the eternal voice of women-her chastity, her
desires, her expectations from her companion and her existence.</b></p><p>
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font-size: medium; font-weight: 400; height: 0px; overflow: hidden;"></div></div></div><div class="dJ" style="clear: both; font-size: medium; font-weight: 400; height: 0px; overflow: hidden;"></div></div></div></div></div><p>#reviews #books #mythology #indianmythology #fiction #ahalya #writers #authors </p><p><br /></p>Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-79888111476442544812020-08-08T23:25:00.001-07:002020-08-08T23:27:37.280-07:00BOOK REVIEW CHAOS, THEOS and KOSMOS<p></p><blockquote><p> </p></blockquote><p> </p><p> <b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;">BOOK REVIEW</span></b></p><p><b><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> <span style="color: #990000;">CHAOS, THEOS and KOSMOS</span></span></b></p><p><span> </span><span> </span><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><b><span style="color: #b45f06;">I must start with an honest confession that my judgement about this book went wrong terribly.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #b45f06;">Having three to-be-read books on my desk, I thought this would be fiction but when I started reading, I found it unique. This book has fifty short articles on different topics. The authoress Kosha Shah Chandaria renders her inspirational views in a subtle, blatant and phenomenal expression. Her writing reflects that she is a liberated woman who has a clear vision of life and its phenomenons. </span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #b45f06;"> On Menstruation, she writes- </span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #b45f06;"> </span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: times;"><i>Why be ashamed of the stains... of your own blood?</i></span></b></p><blockquote><p><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: times;"><i> If breathing can be normal, why can't bleeding be?</i></span></b></p></blockquote><p><b><span style="color: #b45f06;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #b45f06;"> The narrative is poetic, though it is not poetry. I wonder what amount of thoughts she invested to write such a book. As she submits-</span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #741b47;">"Overthinkers are true lovers, the real achievers...Those who care, Those who really care..."</span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #b45f06;">The authoress confidently and unabashedly talks about the relationships and taboos to which a lot of stigmas are still attached and a larger part of our society shy away talking about.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #b45f06;">I loved the conversational style of writing. The opinions are expressed with a careful watch against being preachy or sounding superior.</span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #b45f06;">Kosha Shah's 'Chaos, Theos and Kosmos' is a wonderful read that profoundly represents an educated and empowered woman who has strong opinions and a clear vision about life.</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgruvoBWKCkLFpd7TgbAA8PuoGeKgOqebNydvyldZ05azbeR49q9xKCIEmDkSG7bQw_0t525fxearo8ZLyYCLJZnHCslnB266t6FVQtNhQCvu6_EoVZcJLGRShzs2FTyegTraBGcTGWuNc/s499/41kT1GOjz9L._SX323_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgruvoBWKCkLFpd7TgbAA8PuoGeKgOqebNydvyldZ05azbeR49q9xKCIEmDkSG7bQw_0t525fxearo8ZLyYCLJZnHCslnB266t6FVQtNhQCvu6_EoVZcJLGRShzs2FTyegTraBGcTGWuNc/s0/41kT1GOjz9L._SX323_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p></p>Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-29667390020345781762020-06-27T22:50:00.000-07:002020-06-27T22:55:19.753-07:00PROLOGUE- IT ALL HAPPENED IN A SCHOOL<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="color: red;"> IT ALL HAPPENED IN A SCHOOL</span></span></b><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>a novel by Gaurav Sharma</i></span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;">PROLOGUE<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">GOD & GURU CONVENT<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Monday, September 11, 2017<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">The chirpy five-year-old angel to her father is unusually
quiet today. After months, she has refused to have lunch with her father after
returning from school. He tries his best to cajole her but nothing works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gives up and infers that she is not well.
But, strangely, as her parents turn away, she slips into the bathroom. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;">Minutes pass. She is still in the bathroom. The father,
restless and worried, asks his wife to check. The mother finds her frantically
washing her clothes. The bloodstains on her clothes have tinged the water red. Soon,
the mother finds out that her little daughter has been raped.</span></i><span lang="EN"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;">The girl tells her mother, “The uncle who wears a cap has
beaten me with fingers down there.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">The father rushes her to a hospital where the doctors
confirm that she has been raped. Her condition deteriorates and she is in a
critical state now.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">Police have arrested the culprit. This forty-year-old ‘uncle’
is a peon in her school. He, himself is the father of a teenage daughter. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">The innocent victim also mentions that she had complained
to a teacher but she laughed it out. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">She goes to TAGORE PUBLIC SCHOOL in Gandhi Nagar, Delhi.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">Barely three days before this heinous incident was a boy
found murdered in the toilet of RYAN INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL in Gurugram, Haryana.
Police arrested an employee of the school, a bus conductor, and reported that
he had confessed to the boy’s murder. Later, it surfaced that a senior student
of the same school had killed the boy.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">The rapist and the killer didn’t think about the parents
for whom their children were the hope and purpose of life. They didn’t think
that their merciless act would paint a dirty picture of all schools. In the latter
incident, the criminal himself was a juvenile. By committing this needless crime,
he killed the myriads dreams of four parents.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">The schools are supposed to be the safest place for
children after their homes. They are not. Not any longer. Even the teachers are
not true to their profession. The teacher the little girl complained to should
have listened to her and should have acted upon immediately. She was a woman
and must be a mother to a daughter. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">The extensive coverage of these crimes by the media has
ensured that the culprits would be brought to justice but, there had been a case
that didn’t come into the limelight. Power stamped out the flames before they
could grow. However, the ashes refused to cool down. Another five-year-old was raped
in a school twelve years ago. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">The news of an untoward incident in a school anywhere
makes tremors run through me. My foundations shake and the earth threatens to
loosen its grip over me. The sun looks away. Skies spit on me. The air cuts
through the arches on my terrace hurling expletives. The ‘Nishan Sahib’ and the
huge Cross installed on the terrace feel ashamed of their association with me.
Terrible events of yesteryears still hover around and blatantly refuse to die.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">I am not the only one who suffers when a felony is
committed to any school student. My horrendous past troubles another person. It
refuses to allow him peace as well and haunts him as severely as it haunts me.
When a gross offence occurs in a school, he comes here after work, to visit the
Gurudwara sahib and sit quietly for some time. The magnitude of our guilt is so
huge that twelve years of remorse could not wash it off. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">This man, Harjeet Singh, is a former employee of God
& Guru Convent. The terrible events that took place fifteen years ago
devastated him such that he had to quit his job. The disaster did help him to
evolve as a human being and as a teacher; however, the cost of this
transformation was so high that it would keep him burdened for life.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">I am happy for him because his career flourished after he
left me as it always happens with all the good teachers who unwittingly join
this school. They prosper in life and career when they change their employer.
As if, they serve here under a curse and once that curse is lifted, there is no
looking back for them. Harjeet is now the Principal of a reputed school in
North Delhi.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">When he resigned from his job, his wife was pregnant with
their first child. “If the baby is a girl, I'll call her Pankhudi and if it's a
boy, I'll call him Soubhagya.” He had decided. Pankhudi and Soubhagya were two
of his colleagues during the last three years of his tenure here. He adored
both. His daughter is twelve and son is ten years old now.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">It is ten past three and Harjeet is here.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">Since the day I was founded, I have a special power. When
someone associated with me contemplates sitting alone, their thoughts seep into
me. I’m a sole witness to the rumblings of discontent and an audience to their
soliloquies.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>You can order your copies here:</b></span></span></div>
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#schools #crime #books #novels #teachers #students #education #rape #murder #thriller #fiction #authors #readers #reviewers</div>
Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-8766211234677095952020-04-15T23:07:00.002-07:002020-04-15T23:07:54.324-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-large;"> LEADERSHIP</span></b><br />
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This is not a regular blog post but, my son's views on LEADERSHIP. Recently, my son had applied for a scholarship in which he was asked to write about his views and ways of leading a team.<br />
I am sharing the same writeup by Arnav Sharma here......<br />
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Ideally, a leader should be an influencer but that influence must not be forced upon. His
followers or his sub-ordinates must choose what about him influences them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">When I lead,
I try to lead by example. As a leader, I don’t try to grab the most important
task but, readily assign it to someone who, I think, can do it better than
anybody in the team.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">For
instance, when we make a documentary or a short movie, we know it is teamwork and everyone in the team has a specific role to play. The final product will be as good as our
efforts, zeal and degree of passion. Even if it is my idea and I have taken the
initiative, I cannot accomplish it alone. I not only depend on their help and
support but their devoted Participation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Professional
relationship is just a derivative of personal relationship. To be more
productive and continuously raising the bar of performance, we need to create a congenial environment of working that includes the rapport between the
professionals. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">For sound
professional relationship, one must understand the temperament, likes and
dislikes, aptitude, attitude towards life and career, ambitions and dreams, and
a little idea of the personal life of each one of my associates.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Trust and
respect are indispensable for any relationship. We must appreciate and always
give positive affirmations to our associates. Even when something doesn’t yield
expected results, we must encourage and motivate them for future endeavours
without going mad at them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #351c75;">During the
making of one of my short movies, my friend who was playing the lead character
didn’t turn up on the shoot-site. We tried to contact him but could not. After
a long wait, we had to cancel the shoot. All of us were angry. His called on my
number and the first thing he said, swept away my frustration. He said, “I have
called you because I know you will understand” His voice enunciated the trust,
hope and faith. I couldn’t retort and chose to hear him patiently. He said, “My
uncle who lives in Nagpur passed away this morning. We had to leave
immediately. We are still in the way.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">You can’t always
behave with your co-workers weighing their worth for your business. I believe
that a diplomat may fail but a humane heart will never in any kind of
relationship.</span> </span><br />
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-17998080600635710612019-12-04T05:44:00.000-08:002019-12-04T07:09:14.139-08:00ARE WE ON THE WAY TO ACCEPTING RAPES LIKE DOWRY-DEATHS?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><b>ARE WE ON THE WAY TO ACCEPTING RAPES LIKE DOWRY-DEATHS?</b></span><br />
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<b>After the Nirbhaya case on 16 December 2012, we have developed this habit of ranting on social media, holding noisy protests, organising candle marches and hearing our God-like celebrities expressing rage (a few tweets from the greater mortals are the testimonials that the incident was horrendous). Every time the news anchors report the incident, they pretend to be sombre and choose the best words from their vocabulary.</b><br />
<b>“The moral root of this nation has shaken once more” can attract more ears in comparison to “Another woman raped” which is as plain as a nose on someone’s face. Though this show of concern, mixed with anger starts with great determination and energy but it dies of natural death in a few days without achieving anything. The news of incidents of rapes with greater cruelty and fearlessness keep coming. The culprits of Nirbhaya case are still making merry at Tihar jail while taking a cue from them, the potential rapists outside the jail have no fear of law. We, now, are a country where more than a hundred thousand rapes happen every year. The Hyderabad rape case is another slap on our shameless faces.</b><br />
<b>Have we grown habitual of rapes?</b><br />
<b>We are approaching a stage of acceptance of sexual crimes as we have accepted the dowry-deaths and honour-killing. We, Indians, are losers. We surrender easily. We cannot turn tides-we have never done that. Even in sports, we are infamous for losing from a winning position and not the vice-versa. I hear great-minds-with-meagre-education saying that these rape-cases are the consequences of women empowerment or the short dresses or the women keeping out till late. By saying this they confess that men of this country are beasts who on seeing a helpless woman lose their sanity. They completely ignore the fact that these sick perverts see even the infant-girls as opportunities.</b><br />
<b>The other day, I was discussing this issue with my young students. I asked how do you think we can stop rapes? “Girls should not be out after six,” one of the boys responded. “If a violent dog has biting-tendency, would you chain the dog or the people around?” I retorted. When he didn’t react, I asked again, “Won’t it work better if we don’t allow men to go out after six?” He smiled and nodded. A girl said that all girls should get self-defence training though she agreed that this too has limitations. However powerful and bold a girl maybe, she can’t overpower four or five men alone. “Girls should not tolerate slightest of nuisance and raise alarm at the very first inkling of someone misbehaving,” another boy came up. Finding a boy hesitant, I threw up a blunt question, “Do you think you can rape a girl?”</b><br />
<b>His response surprised everyone. “No, sir. It needs courage.” I knew he couldn’t choose the right words. “You mean to say every courageous man should rape? And, would you commit rape if you happen to grow courageous sometimes?” He shook his head voraciously, “My parents will kill me if I ever do such things.” That fear made me feel good. Every parent can instil that fear, if not values, in their sons when he is still young. They can tell their sons that they would not only disown them but would not spare them even if they manage to escape the law. We need to start from the beginning to teach them not to rape when we teach them not to lie, not to steal and not to quarrel.</b><br />
<b>I think it would be a good idea if teachers talk to their students especially boys starting with middle classes (just when puberty has hit or about to hit) asking their views on rapes. This can serve the dual purpose of sex education and making them understand the difference between ‘Sex with Integrity’ and ‘Sex with criminality’ elaborating the consequences at the same time.</b><br />
<b>We must think of the ways to make all men understand that rape cannot bring the pleasure they intend to seek like in sports, you will not enjoy if your opponent doesn’t play with the same zeal and spirit as yours. Sex is not the game that can be played and enjoyed without or against the consent of your partner. It is high time that we thrust into the minds of all men that they do not have a birthright to do sex whenever and with whomever they want. Sex is not a privilege and they need to earn it every time. There is no licence for sex other than the consent of their partner. We need more advertisements shouting and warning people against sexual assaults.</b><br />
<b>Women too, need to be cautious and vigilant. We can’t deny that they have a right to lead their lives in whatever way they want but taking small precautions can save them from the irrecoverable trauma called rape. While roaming in a forest, it is insane to take a beast for granted. They should not trust anyone when it comes to their body. I personally, have no issues with Public Display of Affection other than that it makes the two people involved vulnerable and also put others to risk. Rapists are psychologically ill and, in most cases, they are from a humble background. The tendency to rape is also a privilege-deficiency disorder. These already depressed people feel jealous when they see other men enjoying the proximity of women. They snatch what they can’t get.</b><br />
<b>I refuse to agree that rapists are sex-deprived or sex-obsessed people. They are sick with an untreatable mental disorder resulted from faulty upbringing. Rapists can’t be reformed. I have researched and found that they are repeat offenders. So, imprisonment is a waste of time and resources. It is like nurturing a threat on a false assumption of keeping it under scrutiny. Such notions soon make us repent when the offender commits another crime as soon as he gets an opportunity. To prevent rapes, we need the most stringent of laws.</b></div>
Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-81531324863072624562019-10-14T22:42:00.002-07:002019-10-14T23:04:04.205-07:00BOOK REVIEW - SUMMER HOLIDAYS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>BOOK REVIEW</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span lang="EN-IN" style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: x-large;"><b>SUMMER HOLIDAYS</b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> By <b><span style="color: #660000;">KORAL DASGUPTA</span></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3zc_7BjAGsNKZmuUYZ-p1tH-Zwk6Y9KXPLzFhS3iWoCJUOec1c-i_HrJh8FpnjUdqmZ-qHhXnlHa80OwdmQVOuN8fFckZUHr0ZmcaYLaS32btIr97MpUlXqreWg2R5cCXUdo9Fwxmrw/s1600/IMG_20191015_105851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="697" data-original-width="449" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3zc_7BjAGsNKZmuUYZ-p1tH-Zwk6Y9KXPLzFhS3iWoCJUOec1c-i_HrJh8FpnjUdqmZ-qHhXnlHa80OwdmQVOuN8fFckZUHr0ZmcaYLaS32btIr97MpUlXqreWg2R5cCXUdo9Fwxmrw/s400/IMG_20191015_105851.jpg" width="257" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red;">“Some
sentiments are personal. They are deep and impassioned. They expose the raw,
unfabricated feelings of the heart so ruthlessly that it feels naked.”</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Page 223)</span></blockquote>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 21.3333px; line-height: 107%;">To a writer, a</span><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> review is not just about praise or criticism. The unimagined and never thought
of perceptions that reviews bring out, which sometimes, even the creator of the story hasn’t touched
upon <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 21.3333px;">are more valuable to a writer.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">While
reading ‘SUMMER HOLIDAYS’ I was wondering how challenging it was to write this
story. For me, it would have been too difficult to write such a story. I was
gobsmacked, mesmerised and in awe of the authoress. In an era when everyone
writes either a Romance or a Thriller, someone chooses to write about families,
siblings, and relations. And, it’s not just a naive attempt but a masterpiece.
I reckon this book will soon be in the curriculum for the students pursuing
literature. This is the story that I would call ‘Real Fiction’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
have great respect for the people who respect relations. Our relations are our
strength. They are the people God wanted to be in our lives. Our relatives are
the people who love us in spite of knowing all our shortcomings. Their
unconditional love brightens up our lives. We may not hear from them for months
even then, we live with the assurance that we can bank upon them in the hour of
need. The belief that some people are just a call away and will come to our aid
no matter what the circumstances are makes us face all challenges life throws at us. A rift, small disagreements, trivial
arguments, random quarrels should not cut off the divine bond that binds us.
Our lives will always suffer and feel the lack of cheerfulness if we shove them
out of the sphere, they are naturally an inseparable part of. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This story has touched me, stirred my
emotions, wetted my eyes many times and for a change, made me a slow reader- I
sipped it rather than gulping that I normally do. This book is a ‘Research
Material.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: blue;">“When
you don’t water your plants, they die.”</span> This, Major Dhillon says about
relations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Narrated
in an uncomplicated third person, the story begins with a rift between
parentless siblings- a brother and a sister, that distances them for years but
another pair of siblings-their kids, eventually bring them together again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The protagonist, Rishi
is a real artist. The way he treats Meera stirred the brother in me. He is
protective but wants her to transform the small-town-introvert-maiden in her
into a confident woman who flaunts her goodness. How great it is that a brother
tells his sister that ‘She makes heads turn’. The teasing remarks he passes to
his sister takes you back to your childhood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: purple;"> “Someone
seems to have made peace with tattoos.”</span></span></blockquote>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The
manner, in which Koral Dasgupta describes the artwork, shows her artisanal
skills. I could see the picture that Viyaan buys and the sketch of the boy
sitting under the banyan tree in front of the tea-stall. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
love the way he warns Viyaan Iyer, his employer against flirting with his
sister. And, the way he snubs the taxi driver when he Meera reaches Mumbai.
And, how he sweetly he treats Shabnam. Girls, do read this book and you will
fall in love with Rishi.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Meera
impresses as a motherless girl and a daughter of a disciplined Army officer. I
love her no-prejudice-demeanour towards his father. Daughters are always so accommodating and understanding. I admire the
efforts she put in to understand her brother, Rishi.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Major
General Anil Dhillon is a stereotype army officer, disciplined, egoist and suppressor
of emotions. He impresses towards the end when he accepts the imposter Rahul
Pandey as his daughter’s suitor although he disliked his habits. That’s what a
father is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Viyaan
Iyer appears rude. Despite his magnanimous personality, I worried about Meera whenever
she meets him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Deepti
Bua is all right though, I felt that the author could have shown her thinking
about her brother and niece a few times. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What
a man Sharat Bahl is! A brilliantly drawn character blessed to have inherited
the author’s great sense of humour. A perfect English literature professor. I
had instant respect for him when he says, “In a few days he will see his dreams
come to life. He will be able to touch it. Can anyone be richer than that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And
when he says to Meera, “<span style="color: red;">Usually it’s my wife who stands there staring at that
photograph. I had just started to rejoice that she had suddenly grown young.
Tough luck.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And,
the wife, Deepti Bua refuses to hold back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red;">“You
can trust English Professors to be desperate.”</span></span></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The
ever-enigmatic and infamous Husband-Wife equation has been realistically
expressed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">“Just
check whether there are chilli flakes in the tea”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #134f5c;">“You
do all kinds of strange things and I have to hear about it for months after………
Why should I face the music for someone else’s strange habits?”</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Page 133 is fantastic)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We
wonder how strange things manage to find only us. This is the kind of story
that will bring solace to our distress of being cursed. When an author writes
about the things you thought happened to you only, a sense of relief embarks
upon you that you are not alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There
is philosophy even in the humour. The comparison that the author draws between
a Physics lecturer wife and an English-literature-professor husband is
thought-provoking- She looked older than her age while he looked the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Shiraz,
a mere gardener, the non-participant and yet very much part of the story is the
author’s most favourite. Why, she tells in the acknowledgements. Shiraz never
does anything wrong. He is the only one, Rishi has no complaints about. Shiraz is
an unflawed human being. He grows beautiful marigolds. He talks to them.</span><span lang="EN-IN"> </span><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rishi
is so smitten by Shiraz that he finds his daughter the most perfect girl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Shiraz
would turn everything into an enchanting story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He
composes folk songs. Everything beautiful nature has, manifests in his songs. A
lover of mankind is always a lover of nature though it may not be the other way
around. Shiraz dies of snakebite.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“The
ugliness is an illusion…You have to see through it to reach the real beauty…”
Shiraz says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The
vain comparison between Virat Kohli and Sachin Tendulkar irks the cricket-fanatic in me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red;">“Work
like you are having a blast with the bat (like Kohli), rather than worshipping
the bat like Tendulkar.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And,
not forgetting Kunj Bihari ji, the mouthpiece of wisdom, I strongly feel, he
exists somewhere if not at IIT Mumbai. He exists and the author has studied him
closely for she has written this character with remarkable precision.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Page
number 239 to 243, I read with tears in my eyes despite the author’s spirited
efforts of balancing emotions with humour. Let me tell you Koral Dasgupta, your
brilliance failed here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">SUMMER
HOLIDAYS is the kind of book on which I can write a thesis. It’s a book I can
read again and again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But,
I am weird. Ending this write-up without criticism will disturb my digestion. A
question I asked the writer in me after I finished reading SUMMER HOLIDAYS, why
do we writers bring in characters, use them to our advantage and then discard
them. I felt sorry for Professor Shayan Banerjee. Why was he in the story? And,
the little boy who sold incense sticks on the road, who meets Rishi, rides on
his bike, imparts a piece of valuable advice and perishes. Just one appearance?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
maintain that the way someone writes shows the way he or she lives. Only a person
who values his relations could have written such a fabulous story. SUMMER
HOLIDAYS will always remain alive in my memory. Beautiful story it is!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 21.3333px;">Do read this if you love your siblings and value your relations.</span></div>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-71641071997056014402019-09-21T22:44:00.002-07:002019-09-22T00:25:01.203-07:00BOOK REVIEW-Till We Meet Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: purple;">BOOK REVIEW</span></b></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><b> Till We Meet Again</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;"> -Shiabji Bose</span> </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">‘Ordinary people have extraordinary stories'- the blurb says. So true it is! </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">The story is about the mundaneness of a lower-middle-class household. Their financial woes. The worries of the lone earning member to make children capable of battling the challenges that life poses and his lifelong sufferings to realise only two dreams- to erect a roof over head and to solemnise his daughter's marriage. His shoulders happily and selflessly carry the burden of all other lives. And, when he perishes suddenly, somebody has to take up his role. The quantum of responsibility remains the same irrespective of his capabilities. The bereaved family survives on the saving of the deceased father. Constraints and worries are an inseparable part of such ordinary lives.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">I maintain that the rich only know what life is but the poor understand what life is. The story equipped with the author's deep understanding of life subtly corroborates my belief. The intrinsic and detailed narration of the struggles of a family makes ‘Till We Meet Again' a good read.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">'Till We Meet Again' (though I have inhibitions about the validity of the title for the story) is a promising attempt by the debutant author Shibaji Bose. </span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">Another thing about this story that kept me hooked to it is the protagonist choosing to become a hairstylist. I could relate to it as I have gone through the same. I am a mathematics teacher and when my son conveyed his desire to become a Cinematographer, I was in a fix. After a few sleepless nights, I weighed that my son's dreams are more important than the bizarre opinion of society. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: large;">The narration is a bit unfathomable in the first few pages where extravagantly compound and complex sentences and needless rosy adjectives make reading tedious. The inexperience of the debutante might be the reason for it and the editor should have guided him. </span><br />
<span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: large;">The letter addressed to the protagonist from the diseased father is the only astounding feature of the story in the first few pages. The letter to which every father and every son can relate to earned the first applause for the author from the emotional reader in me. The writing improves gradually as the sentences become shorter. Writing a book is a journey and it was appeasing to see an author metamorphosing through his maiden voyage. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">I also felt some loopholes in characterisation. Aryan, the protagonist is ordinary in everything but is like a hermit. He is a dutiful son, a doting brother and a decent male who doesn't 'salivate' (borrowed from the author's diction) seeing women. I would have cherished some more humanly vices in him other than being an ordinary guy. </span><br />
<span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">Kavya impresses me as a character (not as a woman). Shibaji Bose has portrayed her as a worldly woman with believable traits. Although the revelation of her connivance against the protagonist came as a rude shock, I felt for her. Committing adultery by a wife to teach a lesson to her husband for hiding some wrong practice is indigestible but I accept it as the changing values and modernised institution of marriage. Surprisingly, the marriage survives after the wife's revenge. I had to console the reader in me when the story announced that the couple had united again because I had envisaged that the story would end with Aryan and Kavya tying knot. Alas! It doesn't happen. Uncertainty is one beautiful aspect of storytelling. Readers may not approve of the unthinkable turn the story takes but they always appreciate the author's extent of imagination to outthink them.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Be it Aryan's mother, or his sister- Rhea, be it Kavya, Reema or Priya, all the female characters in 'Till We Meet Again' are self-centred and ambitious. I felt a repressed disharmony and denigration in the author's portrayal of women. I a</span><span style="font-size: large;">m</span><span style="font-size: large;"> curious </span><span style="font-size: large;">to k</span><span style="font-size: large;">now the reaso</span><span style="font-size: large;">n for it.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">The author's rich vocabulary also impresses me.</span><br />
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-2039353400021737472019-09-07T21:00:00.001-07:002019-09-07T21:15:46.039-07:00FOND MEMORIES OF MY SCHOOL TEACHERS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span></b></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span></b></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;">आओ बचपन सींचें - 6</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">चाहे कितने भी बड़े हो जाएँ, फिर भी हम सब हमेशा थोड़े-थोड़े बच्चे ही रहते हैं l नए कपड़े पहन कर बड़े भी इतराते हैं l जन्मदिन पर गिफ्ट पाकर बड़े भी खुश हो जाते हैं l </span></b><br style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; font-weight: 400;" /><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">जरूरी है बच्चा बने रहना और बच्चों से जुड़े रहना l </span></b></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">FOND MEMORIES OF MY SCHOOL TEACHERS</span><br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>A HUMBLE TRIBUTE</i></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #990000;">What could be a more appropriate subject for this week's post other than remembering the teachers who play an important but underrated role in our lives? </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #990000;">My first thoughts were to write about the invaluable contribution of teachers in making us capable to face the challenges of life, however, I changed my mind for two reasons. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000;">First, all of us have written essays on 'My Favourite Teacher' or 'An Ideal Teacher' in schools that everything I would have written might sound cliched. Second, I am a teacher myself. My write-up to glorify teachers would sound like preaching or self-adoration. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000;">So, I chose to share memories of my teachers with you. </span></b><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: purple;"><b>My first school was St. John's Primary School at Barmer, Rajasthan. On the first day of school, my mother went to drop us (My Sister and I) to the school. Not ready to part with her, I went into hysterics and clasped her sari. When nobody could console me, Mr. Mathew came forward. He held my right hand as my mother's sari was in the tight grip of my left hand. There was a tug-of-war between Mr. Mathew and me. </b><b>After putting up a spirited fight and creating quite a spectacle, I lost to Mr. Mathew. Overpowering me, the robust teacher with a bushy moustache and Rajesh Khanna like hairdo, signalled my mother to leave. </b><b>His heart changed colours like a chameleon the moment my mother left. Giving me a tight slap, he sent me to my class. </b><b>Another thing I remember about Mr. Mathew is his strange habit of pinching on the thighs of boys whenever they made a mistake. We wore knickers and his fingers bit our tender flesh like forceps. </b><b>Though I have unpleasant memories of him but he made me sit in a classroom on the first day of my fifteen-year-long unforgettable and happening school life. </b></span></blockquote>
<b><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #38761d;">Ms. Suman Kashyap was the headmistress at Happy Time Public School where I studied for grades one, two and three. Once seeing me crying, I don't remember why I was, Ms. Suman came to me and held me in her arms. When I didn't stop sobbing, she cuddled me like a mother. She was the same for every child. Soft-spoken, always smiling, cracking jokes and an ideal kindergarten teacher. Children loved to be in her company. She was everyone's favourite.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #38761d;">I was fond of her at that time but as I grew up, my fondness changed into reverence.</span></b><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="color: #b45f06;"><br /><br />At National Victor Public School, Mr. Virender Singh taught me mathematics in grade four. My memories of him are significant to my making into a mathematics teacher.<br />After distributing the half-yearly exams answer-sheets to the whole class except me, he asked, "Who is Gaurav Sharma?"<br /> <br />Stunned by this undue summon, I timidly stood up. I knew I hadn't topped.<br />"You've got 17...passing marks. And, you can see I have given you undeserved marks here and there because I liked your name. (GAURAV used to be a rare name those days). In lieu of this favour, I want you to promise to do better next time."<br />I nodded like a robot but his words and gesture did motivate me. I managed to get fifty percent marks in mathematics which was a hurdle for me to be among the first three ranks in the class.<br />Virender Sir's words kept on haunting me and pushed me for improvement year after year. The progress, however, was gradual.</span></b></blockquote>
<br />
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">Pune was a new atmosphere. I was at Air Force School, Viman Nagar, Pune for classes six, seven and eight. I was like a rustic simpleton who had landed into a metropolis. The first day, class Six, when Mrs. Chawla, our English teacher, asked me to read from the textbook, I pronounced "Come on" as "Common". My classmates burst into laughter. Mrs. Chawla corrected me. Nervous, I still read it wrong. The class repeated their chortling. Mrs. Chawla reprimanded them and asked me to read it again. I think I got it right after six or seven attempts. That was quite an embarrassment. Mrs. Chawla didn't give up on me. She used to call me at her home and gave me grammar lessons. She would ask me to read the lessons aloud and corrected me when I mispronounced a word. That was going several miles farther to help a weak student. It was unfortunate I could not meet her when I visited Pune in July this year as she was in the US at that time. But I always remember her when somebody admires my writing skills.</span></b><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">The Goddess of Mathematics finally smiled at me.<br />The first day in class 7, as the bell for the second period rang, clad in a cotton sari and simple flat leather moccasins, with a single long braid and a small black 'bindi', a motherly figure walked in the class. She was Mrs. Seema Aglawe, the teacher to whom I owe my interest in mathematics. The way she taught, took away all my fear. For my newly found fascination, I started practicing math as and when I had nothing else to do.</span></b></blockquote>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6UlwcSOT3s687CkkRBLXMbff__GDGxRAi-RvQZ2JaDgm9kfttNLBP5uyXa1RQyvobEMNmJWpwB20XuPBvPAt-qUPl40LZO5eBtg8wvv_07hhJSngzoPDGpqbHK-14RqIX1uMZgianIA/s1600/FB_IMG_1567649695987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="332" data-original-width="720" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6UlwcSOT3s687CkkRBLXMbff__GDGxRAi-RvQZ2JaDgm9kfttNLBP5uyXa1RQyvobEMNmJWpwB20XuPBvPAt-qUPl40LZO5eBtg8wvv_07hhJSngzoPDGpqbHK-14RqIX1uMZgianIA/s320/FB_IMG_1567649695987.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">I had and still have great respect for madam Aghlawe. I wrote a poem in Hindi for her and gave it to her.<br />I left the Air Force School and took admission in Kendriya Vidyalaya, Pune.<br />Years went by.<br />After my father took voluntary retirement from the Air Force, we settled in Delhi and shifted to Ghaziabad after some years. Going back to Pune to meet my teachers and friends never happened.<br />Finally, after 30 years, life took me back to Pune on the pretext of my son's admission. I yearned to meet my teachers and friends who were connected with me through social media. I thought it was an opportunity to get the cover of my book unveiled by my teachers and seeking their blessings.<br />When a friend told me that Mrs. Aghlawe had consented to come, my joy knew no bound. Meeting her after thirty years and being a mathematics teacher for more than twenty years all because of her would have been a pleasure akin to the fulfilment of the final wish.<br />But...but...but... teachers give you more than you expect.<br />When Mr. Rakesh Trigunait, my elder brother like a friend, asked me to share my memories of my teachers, I said that madam Aghlawe might not remember that I had once written a poem for her.</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ANBZz4CziQTlwepBYKNZDIT1iB4KXiGA2y9G9KOrSaKsAQM38eJpMZeY0sW6cMaPjHf4s1Hya_T61jWq7sfcGMc13OiL4cXxU3KE5U8_0RTA4GJpcRoEFaIqKILhb7leboeniPj8LpI/s1600/IMG_20190906_203224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1229" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ANBZz4CziQTlwepBYKNZDIT1iB4KXiGA2y9G9KOrSaKsAQM38eJpMZeY0sW6cMaPjHf4s1Hya_T61jWq7sfcGMc13OiL4cXxU3KE5U8_0RTA4GJpcRoEFaIqKILhb7leboeniPj8LpI/s320/IMG_20190906_203224.jpg" width="245" /></a></blockquote>
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">"Do you have that poem with you? " Mrs. Aghlawe countered.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">I shook my head. Madam fished into her handbag and took out a diary. A paper was carefully preserved between the pages. "I still have that poem, " she said proudly.</span></b></blockquote>
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">"Read it for everyone, " she instructed me. I was in tears. Seeing me overwhelmed, she stood up to read it herself.</span></b></blockquote>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MIKOHwpHOkQ/XXJ2itduybI/AAAAAAAAFHk/qeWiMdQ3iYQiSVUMpLZFAvlEnJ5IOFSigCEwYBhgL/s1600/VID-20190708-WA0027.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="220" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MIKOHwpHOkQ/XXJ2itduybI/AAAAAAAAFHk/qeWiMdQ3iYQiSVUMpLZFAvlEnJ5IOFSigCEwYBhgL/s400/VID-20190708-WA0027.mp4" width="400" /></a><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">She had also replied to my poem but I somehow had forgotten about that. After my poem for her, she recited her reply to me which she had copied in her diary.</span></b></blockquote>
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HPcvk1ydPtU/XXJ2_NrnfXI/AAAAAAAAFH8/vAuIQw2rn6EMNcJZOtUZQRENh6JHwwKLACEwYBhgL/s1600/VID-20190707-WA0060.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HPcvk1ydPtU/XXJ2_NrnfXI/AAAAAAAAFH8/vAuIQw2rn6EMNcJZOtUZQRENh6JHwwKLACEwYBhgL/s320/VID-20190707-WA0060.mp4" width="176" /></a><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">I got the best gift of my life. While writing this, I am still in tears. Great teachers have humble ways in which their greatness manifests. Their greatness is not subjected to a few acknowledgments. She gave me a valuable lesson that day. </span></b></blockquote>
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<b>Madam Naseem, who taught us Chemistry is an exemplary teacher. She is still teaching at a Kendriya Vidyalaya in Pune.</b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNPhT7mbqPmq2t5bwaC76MeB-ejxnurH3ix6FKX75xsmAwNZPfYSpD53x52uyY3vns_Tl6zynqk52JS2OR9hwKX9dU72uyqyrLabBsmfiXai0rV9GuQsaYzqlE7uLr7ydfcO83_GNKsI/s1600/FB_IMG_1567649690025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="477" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNPhT7mbqPmq2t5bwaC76MeB-ejxnurH3ix6FKX75xsmAwNZPfYSpD53x52uyY3vns_Tl6zynqk52JS2OR9hwKX9dU72uyqyrLabBsmfiXai0rV9GuQsaYzqlE7uLr7ydfcO83_GNKsI/s320/FB_IMG_1567649690025.jpg" width="147" /></a><b><br /></b>
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<b>I was jealous of my classmate Saddamma as he played better cricket than me though I was better in studies. One day, madam Naseem asked Saddamma what his future plans were after his dismal performance in a periodic test. He replied that he wanted to take admission to the best college in the city after class ten so that he can play cricket at a higher level. "No chance bro...maybe in next birth," I said smugly. Perturbed by my unwarranted intervention, Ms. Naseem, took a few deep breaths. She asked me to stand up. What followed was exactly what an ideal teacher ought to do in that situation.</b><br />
<b>She inquired about the reason for my jealousy. Then, she told me to help Saddamma with maths and science. In return, she asked Saddamma to help me improving my cricketing skills. Saddamma and I complied and became good friends. I humbly bow to Madam Naseem.</b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #783f04;">Madam Oak taught us Hindi in class 7.</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBT5LuzjMUVS8nX_tG6dZG3NBESSuV9G9sudQwI13_qiR9lNDTUcejt5q0BYFvevOPEX2-l6lpz58sDjlyEVERPaEW66x31kjQ6wCqgsw0QhY9LV-EgkU8YCsFNp5y9X0JT1ABpR-fLSI/s1600/FB_IMG_1567649674925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="332" data-original-width="720" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBT5LuzjMUVS8nX_tG6dZG3NBESSuV9G9sudQwI13_qiR9lNDTUcejt5q0BYFvevOPEX2-l6lpz58sDjlyEVERPaEW66x31kjQ6wCqgsw0QhY9LV-EgkU8YCsFNp5y9X0JT1ABpR-fLSI/s320/FB_IMG_1567649674925.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<b><span style="color: #783f04;">I still remember a poem she taught us and made us learn it by heart.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">"हम पंछी उन्मुक्त गगन के </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">पिंजरबद्ध ना उड़ पाएँगे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">कनक तीलियों से टकराकर </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">पुलकित पंख टुट जाएँगे "</span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #783f04;">She is so soft speech compliments her prowess in Hindi and instills calmness in her listeners.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #783f04;">With her efforts, our school had become a study centre of "राष्ट्र भाषा प्रचार समिति" that worked for promoting Hindi. I enrolled in the course and passed the exam with good marks. Madam Oak used to teach her after school hours. I proudly show the certificate I received to my kids. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: blue;">Mrs. Sita Lakshmi was the oldest teacher in the school. </span></b><b><span style="color: blue;">She used to be my class teacher in grade seven. </span></b><b><span style="color: blue;">We called her 'All-rounder" because she could teach any subject to any class. A short and frail figure, she must have been over fifty-five at that time but came to school on a moped. Riding at a good speed, she entered like 'Hermoine Granger'. We often rove around the school gate to witness her 'grand' entry.</span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;"><b>Mr. Thakur was my History teacher in grade eight. He had hardly any hair and wore a buttoned driving cap. Coming to the class, he sat on the chair behind the teacher's desk and removed his cap. Then he would teach us the lesson as if he was narrating a story without consulting the textbook. I still remember his story about the battle of Plassey- how Mir Jafar betrayed Siraj ud-Dauhla and the conflict between Mir Jafar and Mir Kasim.</b></span></blockquote>
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<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">After class eight, I took admission at Kendriya Vidyalaya No. 3 at Chandan Nagar in Pune.</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHeCc2nyBc9-1kSoEucS3SGZHkJmCX_A0jRWkgm09kAOyGGyf5BXR8nr_-1HNtAA_PnjA5CJfy36fzpMf9kckQRT4nPc25fIGDKl5mTmg2P51pIymsL6m-yjAqZMPhHmpkNR9MfJxlNo/s1600/FB_IMG_1567649678775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHeCc2nyBc9-1kSoEucS3SGZHkJmCX_A0jRWkgm09kAOyGGyf5BXR8nr_-1HNtAA_PnjA5CJfy36fzpMf9kckQRT4nPc25fIGDKl5mTmg2P51pIymsL6m-yjAqZMPhHmpkNR9MfJxlNo/s320/FB_IMG_1567649678775.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">Mrs. Veena Kaul was my class teacher. She was strict but compassionate. A Science teacher who gives relatable examples from day-to-day life makes this subject even more interesting. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">In class ninth, I had stiff competition for the first rank with Khyali Dutt Sharma (I have given the same name to a character in my book 'LOVE @ AIR FORCE'). Madam Veena encouraged both of us. Seeing that competition was so tough that even half mark could make a difference, she declared, "I will not round off the marks. Whatever weightage comes out, I will consider it and will carry out the calculations in decimals."</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">That was sheer thoughtfulness of a dedicated and impartial teacher. Now, Khyali and I knew that even one-tenth of a mark can make a difference. We worked hard as if we were at war. On the day of the result, I had a clan of mice in my stomach.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">I had stood first with a difference of 0.2 marks. I still have that report card. When I see it, I feel proud. The pride is not about beating Khyali but about having a devoted and thoughtful class-teacher.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #45818e;">Swati Dubey ma'am taught me Social Science in class 9. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #45818e;">I remember I was making a list of rations and requirements for the class picnic when she was teaching. After a while, she said, "<i>Agar tera hisaab kitaab ho gaya ho to pay attention here</i>. " ( If you are done with your budget-making, then pay attention to the lesson ). I wondered how she knew what I was doing. But, now I realise she was a teacher and I was a naive boy of 14.</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin7h2qukN7tvBaIo_-i6jDNs8OPp_8WzLp9ByoOPRuI9v8QI3Rgd45ZC1xErDh-Yj8behKm72bZT2-mmRgH8DozJsFIl-EFC8xHBmLHepPZUEJ-GFn2izasN-FQiWR05R0ahbgfdlGo4I/s1600/FB_IMG_1567649664902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="477" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin7h2qukN7tvBaIo_-i6jDNs8OPp_8WzLp9ByoOPRuI9v8QI3Rgd45ZC1xErDh-Yj8behKm72bZT2-mmRgH8DozJsFIl-EFC8xHBmLHepPZUEJ-GFn2izasN-FQiWR05R0ahbgfdlGo4I/s320/FB_IMG_1567649664902.jpg" width="147" /></a><b><span style="color: #45818e;"></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #45818e;"><b><span style="color: #45818e;"><br /></span></b></span></b>
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<b><span style="color: #45818e;">She often addressed me Vaibhav and I responded without an inkling because I knew it was the name of her son. "You are like my son, " she would say when she realised she had called me by the wrong name.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #45818e;">I remember the efforts she put into an inter-school exhibition. We had to put up an exhibition on the culture, literature, festivals, famous personalities in one of the Indian states and one country. West Bengal for the Indian state and Russia for the country were her prompt choices. I was on the team of five boys she had chosen. Her guidance and knowledge steered our creativity. We worked hard and brought laurels to our school.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">The same year, Mr. Ved Prakash Mishra taught us Hindi. How knowledgeable!</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">What authority over language!</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">I waited for his period every day.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">He was my first teacher who not only read my poems but assessed them. Then, he called me to his room and explained my shortcomings elaborately.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">Often, on Sundays, he called me to his house and talked about literature. He remembered numerous couplets and poems which he quoted while conversing. I had to sit with a pen and paper because his quotes were too intriguing to be missed.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #7f6000;"> </span><span style="color: #cc0000;"> " जीवन तो इति न अथ है </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000;"> जीवन एक साधना पथ है "</span></b></blockquote>
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<b><span style="color: #7f6000;"> </span><span style="color: blue;"> " भूले भटके कभी तो मेरा नाम लिया जाएगा </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue;"> आँसू जब सम्मानित होंगे मुझे याद किया जाएगा "</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">Our school celebrated "हिन्दी सप्ताह ".</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">There were various competitions on all six days.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">I had won the first prize in the essay writing, debate and <i>Antakshri</i>. The last competition was poem-recitation. Mishra sir was one of the judges. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">Khyali Dutt had won the competition because Mishra sir had given me one point less than Khyali. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">I was hurt. My immaturity was not ready to admit that a teacher who said I was his favourite student could do that to me.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">When he learnt about my disappointment, he called me in his room.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #7f6000;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> " निश्छल, निष्कपट, निष्पाप हो जाना चाहिए शीश </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: red;"> जब बन जाते हो आप न्यायाधीश "</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">He told me that my choice of the poem was wrong. It was short and had less scope for you to show variation in expression. On the other hand, Khyali had recited "अर्जुन की प्रतिज्ञा" that had anger, emotions, and fear. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">I agreed with him.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #7f6000;">After I left Pune I wrote him letters and got replies from him every time.</span></b><br />
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<b>May God bless all my teachers with health and happiness. </b><br />
<b>I feel indebted to them for their love and guidance. Thank you, dear teachers...Thank you so very much.</b><br />
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-53855713114983692022019-09-01T04:12:00.003-07:002019-09-01T06:52:33.250-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>BOOK REVIEW</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: purple; font-size: x-large;"><b>"WHO KILLED THE MURDERER?"</b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> __________________________________By <b><span style="color: #b45f06;">MOITRAYEE BHADURI</span></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4kA369XAMky-k_SuYBHhd_VLKcBDgZvQwMw1g3z5JzWZRYWseTG5ZtLPo0EVJBebCcHkT9OWwWAKDT8SAMrCo_WKW6SgHVBN4242mIHkxoWf6nE_wiMFJwKia2DIDCKIlf4MJLQrxWJQ/s1600/51NeUamv8bL._SX311_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="313" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4kA369XAMky-k_SuYBHhd_VLKcBDgZvQwMw1g3z5JzWZRYWseTG5ZtLPo0EVJBebCcHkT9OWwWAKDT8SAMrCo_WKW6SgHVBN4242mIHkxoWf6nE_wiMFJwKia2DIDCKIlf4MJLQrxWJQ/s400/51NeUamv8bL._SX311_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I love the books wherein every line enunciates what an ardent
observer the author is. 'Who Killed the Murderer?' is just that kind of book. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">A dark and spine-chilling story, 'Who Killed the
Murderer?' will force the readers to ruminate how vulnerable and fragile life
is. An untoward night, an irresponsibly hatched out mischief, unchecked
immaturity and a moment of rage can bring us lifelong suffering. A selfish lie
by a young girl against three boys (one out of the three is her twin brother)
instigates two of them for revenge. And, when they have their revenge, her life
changes forever. For the rest of her life, she lives with two daggers- one,
pierced in her heart and another in her hand to harm others. She despises every
pre-teen boy, even her son. So heart-wrenching! She turns selfish,
self-centered, and wicked. No, don’t hate her. She is just sick and not
responsible for her trauma. Faulty parenting and unruly schoolmates are
accountable for her criminal psyche.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b></span></blockquote>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">An act of ghastly and cruel revenge can kill a person or
turn him or her into a fearless, ruthless and deadlier survivor. No sane person
would choose either even for his worst enemy. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though a
thrilling murder mystery, this book is enlightening for the parents. The story
is a testimonial of how the parents' ignorance and a casual approach can ruin
the life of a child and the people associate with him or her. The unreasonable
unwillingness of Shagun's mother to engage a psychologist and her excessive
obsession for only one of her children (Shagun) only aggravated the ordeal she
suffered with.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">On page 141, one of the characters talks about “Rage
disorder”. Psychologists also call it “Intermittent Explosive Disorder or IED.
The sufferers show hostility, impulsivity, and burst into anger despite a lack
of adequate reason. In the cases when family members are aware that the person
is ill and needs to visit a psychologist but the ‘patient’ doesn’t admit that
he or she is sick. They too, keep on suffering along with the person ill of IED.
It is a dilemma for the people who want to help the patient but are helpless.
I wish the psychologists could suggest a way to make the suffering person
understand that it is a curable disorder and treatment and counselling can make life so much pleasurable
and enjoyable for him or her and the other family members.</span></b></span></blockquote>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">‘Once his cigarette is over, he will feel guilty and
come back with an apology.’ Page 41<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">This is so true!</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">The author seems to know about everything- smokers, TV
actresses, the casting couch, the police, the detectives, the beauty parlours,
child psychology et al- everything is so well researched that you never feel
inadequacy. Except for two moments when the private detective, Milli Ray lights
smokes at wrong places- once in the living room of her super-rich clients, the Seths,
and another in a hospital never did my over-analysing brain object.</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I loved the way Moitrayee has pen-sketched her
characters. They all are blessed-lesser-mortals- talented but have humanly
vices. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #990000;">Milli Ray fails to impress me. I will hail her only as a
hard-working detective and expected her to be sharper and smarter than she
appears. I would suggest the author to polish her character and give her a little
more guile as she is likely to repeat her in another thriller. Milli Ray, the
ex-cop and detective, deserves it and I am already yearning to read another
adventure by her. </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The portrayal of Shagun's character is the immaculate
and sheer brilliance of Moitrayee’s writing. She has really worked hard on
presenting her protagonist as a ruthless but suffering psycho. At times, one
can feel the author's empathy for her leading lady. She is parti pris to her protagonist </span></b><b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">in her narration.</span></b><b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> I justify it.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #990000;">ACP Trehan, smitten by Milli’s dynamism appears, like a
Sub-Inspector and lacks the flamboyance and authority his rank and occupation
warrant. May we see him act like an ACP in future adventures. I wish!</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #990000;">Rik Sharma alias Rishabh Gupta and Neel Khatan appear as
good as their character-traits are. The rest of the characters are mere props.</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">The writing style and the mature handling of such a
sensitive story need a special mention. When you are an author yourself, you
tend to read a book more with a writer’s frame of mind and less as a reader.
Moitrayee’s writing forced me to read it more as a reader. Not many writers
have done that to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Yes, Shelley said, “Sometimes, the devil is a gentleman.
I say, all devils are gentlemen with some behavioural dysfunctions.</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And, at last, I wish to ask Moitrayee if she aspired to
be a detective at some point of time in her life. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Few Things worth mentioning…<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few
chapters end with a one-word-sentence. They build up curiosity. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is
not even one steamy scene despite so many entangled and complicated
relationships. I admire.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">3.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
mention of Bradley Cooper. He doesn’t have a prominent upper lip like me… You
know, what I mean.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">4.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a
must-read book for the parents like Mr. and Mrs. Chopra. And, if anyone feels
he or she has the slightest of characteristics as Shagun, the protagonist has,
they must seek the help of a psychologist immediately. Please don’t let one bad
night or an unpleasant incident deprive you of the happiness and love you deserve.
<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Nobody is a villain. We just need to wring our hearts to
squeeze out the poison. We deserve it. We deserve a life. We deserve happiness.
We deserve love.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-63320922788640383372019-09-01T02:21:00.002-07:002019-09-03T02:32:34.764-07:00MATHEMATICS, EGO & ME<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;">आओ बचपन सींचें - 5</span></span></b></span><br style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">चाहे कितने भी बड़े हो जाएँ, फिर भी हम सब हमेशा थोड़े-थोड़े बच्चे ही रहते हैं l नए कपड़े पहन कर बड़े भी इतराते हैं l जन्मदिन पर गिफ्ट पाकर बड़े भी खुश हो जाते हैं l </span></b><br style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; font-weight: 400;" /><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">जरूरी है बच्चा बने रहना और बच्चों से जुड़े रहना l </span></b></span></span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-size: 13px;"><b>Dear friends,</b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-size: 13px;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-size: 13px;"><b>Hope you are happy and enjoying your life.</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-size: 13px;"><b>Today, I am posting an anecdote for you all. This incident changed my life. I hope you will like it. </b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><i> MATHEMATICS, EGO & ME</i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>It was 2006, six years after I gave up my
job and was contended teaching in my institute.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>I was aware that people thought that I was
haughty and had an intolerably irritating superiority complex. I, however,
considered it their covetousness.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>A good friend of mine, who lives in
Pune, telephoned me one fine day and apprised that some Mr. Apte, also from
Pune, was conducting a
Personality Development workshop at Faridabad. </b></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>"Mr. Apte</b></span></span><b style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"> is a celebrated motivational speaker and trainer," he told me and</b><b style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"> insisted that I should attend the
workshop. I gave all sorts of excuses- my busy schedule, my parent’s health,
and other lame and inadequate pretexts. </b><br />
<b style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></b>
<b style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">Although it was May, which is
comparatively relaxing for teachers, I didn’t want to go as I thought that my
personality needed no rectification. Finally, he said that he was coming to
Delhi for attending it and I would have to accompany him.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>I had to agree to oblige him. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>It was a three-day workshop in some Motel
in Faridabad. The fee was Three-thousand-eight-hundred rupees which I painfully
parted with, just for the sake of my friend.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>During the introduction at the start,
elucidation came that among the eighty men present, I had the most humble social
status. There were Chief Medical Officers from renowned hospitals, ACP’s of
Haryana and Delhi Police, CEOs, highly placed Government Officers and many
more.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>The rumbling ghost of superiority took a
backseat and consented to wait and watch why those refined gentlemen had gathered
there.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>The post-lunch session on day one itself was the most
significant period for me that changed my life.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Mr. Apte drew a square on the board with
four vertical and four horizontal lines inside it that divided it into smaller
squares. He asked the trainees to count the number of squares it had. Some
found 16, some 17, few others found 20 while few could see 24 squares in all. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>My answer was 30 which was the highest
number (of the squares) anybody had quoted. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Mr. Apte came to me and asked if I was
sure. My ego replied to him on my behalf, 'Yes sir, pretty sure. I’m a
Mathematics Teacher. It's a routine thing for me.'<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>‘Oh, I see," </b></span></span><b style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">said Mr. Apte,</b><b style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"> 'However, I advise you to recount.’ </b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>‘No, Sir. I can't be wrong with this. I
dedicate ten hours a day to this subject,’ I said, smugly.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Mr. Apte smirked and asked me to follow him
to the podium.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>‘Mr. Sharma, we will talk about the squares
later. Let’s have fun exercise before that. And, gentlemen,’ he addressed the
others, ‘I’ve chosen him for this exercise because he is a Mathematics
teacher.’<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>He took an A-4 size sheet of paper, held it
from two opposite corners and asked me to tear it off with a punch.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>As I punched, he withdrew his lower hand
foiling my attempt. He asked me to give another try and did the same, letting
it loose just before my punch landed on it.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>The third attempt failed too. I stood
exasperated and exhausted because of repeated failure.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>‘No sir, it will not tear off if you keep
doing so,’ I said when he asked me to try again.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Hearing my reply, he smiled smugly and looked at me, ‘And you realized that after three blows?’ I sheepishly gazed into his eyes feigning
the shame. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>He continued, ‘Each blow was deadlier than the
previous one; enough to knock me down if I had been in the way,’ he paused and
smiled and looked at the amused audience, ‘Actually Mr. Sharma, you had
realized that right after the first hit. However, your ego forbade you to
accept failure so early. It stopped you to concede defeat even though you knew
it was impossible. You thought that I might not do it the second time.’ <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>I wanted to run away from the hall. He had
not finished, ‘And, coming back to the count of the squares, I can prove that there
are more than thirty squares in it even though it’s not my
routine job.’<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>My arrogant mind was still not ready to
accede to his challenging my knowledge of mathematics. Nevertheless, I decided
to hear him patiently. I didn’t want more embarrassment.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>He said, ‘Count all the squares including
the black outline and then count them leaving the outline. That would double
the number of squares that you counted.’<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Mr. Apte placed his hand on my shoulder and
said, ‘Mr. Sharma, there will always be something more to learn. Remember, improvement has no finishing line.’<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Years after the incident, I always try to
keep my ego in check and always try and still trying to be a better teacher and a better human being,<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Thank you, Mr. Apte, for the valuable
lesson you taught me.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>*********************************************************************************</b></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Keep watching this space for the announcement of the winner of 'LET'S TWIST A STORY' - the contest held last Sunday.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: red; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Here are the results of the contest 'LET'S TWIST A STORY'.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>We extend our heartfelt gratitude to Mr. Om Tiwari, Mr. Ratnadip Acharya, and Mr. Nuranis Ravi for keenly evaluating the entries.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>THE ASSESSMENT OF OUR
ESTEEMED JUDGES</b></span><span style="color: #31859c;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoNormalTable" style="border-collapse: collapse; margin-left: 5.65pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184; width: 544px;">
<tbody>
<tr style="height: .2in; mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0;">
<td nowrap="" style="border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 33.05pt;" valign="bottom" width="44"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">S.NO<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-left: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 98.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="131"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">NAME<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-left: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 70.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="93"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">JUDGE 1<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-left: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="84"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">JUDGE 2<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-left: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 59.7pt;" valign="bottom" width="80"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">JUDGE 3<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-left: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-top-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.3pt;" valign="bottom" width="112"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">TOTAL</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="height: .2in; mso-yfti-irow: 1;">
<td nowrap="" style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 33.05pt;" valign="bottom" width="44"><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-IN">1<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 98.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="131"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">HARSH NATH TRIPATHI<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 70.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="93"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="84"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">8<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 59.7pt;" valign="bottom" width="80"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">9<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.3pt;" valign="bottom" width="112"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">24<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="height: .2in; mso-yfti-irow: 2;">
<td nowrap="" style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 33.05pt;" valign="bottom" width="44"><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">2<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 98.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="131"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">ANSH </span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">GUPTA<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 70.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="93"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="84"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">6<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 59.7pt;" valign="bottom" width="80"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">8<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.3pt;" valign="bottom" width="112"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">21.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="height: .2in; mso-yfti-irow: 3;">
<td nowrap="" style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 33.05pt;" valign="bottom" width="44"><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">3<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 98.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="131"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">VAISHNAVI KULKARNI<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 70.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="93"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">8.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="84"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">8<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 59.7pt;" valign="bottom" width="80"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">8<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.3pt;" valign="bottom" width="112"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">24.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="height: .2in; mso-yfti-irow: 4;">
<td nowrap="" style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 33.05pt;" valign="bottom" width="44"><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">4<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 98.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="131"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">SHRUSHTI DANI<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 70.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="93"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="84"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 59.7pt;" valign="bottom" width="80"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">3<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.3pt;" valign="bottom" width="112"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">18<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="height: .2in; mso-yfti-irow: 5;">
<td nowrap="" style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 33.05pt;" valign="bottom" width="44"><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 98.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="131"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">DIVYAM
AGARWAL<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 70.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="93"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="84"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 59.7pt;" valign="bottom" width="80"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">3<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.3pt;" valign="bottom" width="112"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">17.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="height: .2in; mso-yfti-irow: 6;">
<td nowrap="" style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 33.05pt;" valign="bottom" width="44"><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">6<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 98.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="131"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">SHRISHTI
SUMAN<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 70.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="93"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="84"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 59.7pt;" valign="bottom" width="80"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">3<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.3pt;" valign="bottom" width="112"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">18<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="height: .2in; mso-yfti-irow: 7;">
<td nowrap="" style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 33.05pt;" valign="bottom" width="44"><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 98.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="131"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">KESAR </span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">BAJAJ<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 70.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="93"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">6<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="84"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">6<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 59.7pt;" valign="bottom" width="80"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">1<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.3pt;" valign="bottom" width="112"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">13<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="height: .2in; mso-yfti-irow: 8;">
<td nowrap="" style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 33.05pt;" valign="bottom" width="44"><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">8<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 98.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="131"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">TANISHQ
SHARMA<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 70.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="93"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7.25<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="84"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 59.7pt;" valign="bottom" width="80"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;"><b>1</b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.3pt;" valign="bottom" width="112"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">15.25<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr style="height: .2in; mso-yfti-irow: 9; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;">
<td nowrap="" style="border-top: none; border: solid windowtext 1.0pt; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 33.05pt;" valign="bottom" width="44"><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">9<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 98.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="131"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">PIYUSH TIWARI<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 70.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="93"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7.25<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 63.0pt;" valign="bottom" width="84"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">7.5<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 59.7pt;" valign="bottom" width="80"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">8<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
</td>
<td nowrap="" style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-left: none; border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border-top: none; height: .2in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 84.3pt;" valign="bottom" width="112"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN"><b><span style="color: blue;">22.75<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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</tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>
</b></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Congratulations, Vaishnavi Kulkarni. You are the Winner.<br />
Well done, Harsh.<br />
Kudos to all participants. Keep writing.</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-64115952808288438452019-08-24T20:37:00.001-07:002019-08-24T20:39:20.171-07:00LET'S TWIST A STORY<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span></b></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span></b></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;">आओ बचपन सींचें - 4</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><b><br style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;" /></b></span><span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">चाहे कितने भी बड़े हो जाएँ, फिर भी हम सब हमेशा थोड़े-थोड़े बच्चे ही रहते हैं l नए कपड़े पहन कर बड़े भी इतराते हैं l जन्मदिन पर गिफ्ट पाकर बड़े भी खुश हो जाते हैं l </span></b><br style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; font-weight: 400;" /><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">जरूरी है बच्चा बने रहना और बच्चों से जुड़े रहना l </span></b></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></b></span></span></b></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></b></span></span></b></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b>तो चलो आज कुछ अलग करते हैं </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> पहले एक बच्चे की कहानी सुनते हैं </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> और फिर उसे अपनी-अपनी </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b>कल्पना की
उंगली थमा कर </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> एक अलग मोड़ पर ले जाते हैं </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> उस ही कहानी को आगे बढ़ाते हैं ... </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> कहानी English में है </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b>लेकिन
आप चाहें तो </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b>आगे की कहानी </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> हिंदी में भी लिख सकते हैं </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> न Grammar की जकड़न</b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b>न language का बंधन </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> बस ये कहानी और </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> आपकी कल्पना की उड़ान
...</b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b>तो फिर हो जाओ शुरू </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> करवा दो रोशन से कुछ ऐसा </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> कि पढ़कर, सुनकर लगे</b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> हाँ, ऐसा भी तो हो सकता है ... </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b> हम सब उत्सुक हैं ....</b><b> </b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; white-space: pre;"><b style="white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></span></span></b></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; white-space: pre;"><b style="white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></span></b></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></b></span></span></b></span>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></b></span></span></b></span>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: magenta; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: xx-large; text-align: left;">LET'S TWIST A STORY</b></div>
<span style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"></span></b></span></span></b></span><br />
<b style="font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;"><br /></b></b>
<br />
<span style="color: orange; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>This week we have a story for you- Roshan's story. Read this story and add a hundred words to take it further. A jury will select the best addition and it will win a prize.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: orange; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="color: orange;">So, let the kites of your imagination fly high and bring some twists and turns to tell us what Roshan does next. We are anxiously waiting to read your versions. You can submit your entries by commenting here or by sending an e-mail at </i><span style="color: #990000;">aaobachpanseenchein@gmail.com</span><span style="color: orange;"> </span><i><span style="color: orange;">before the sun sets on Thursday, 29th of August.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: orange; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: orange;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="color: orange; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #783f04;"><b>Please do mention your name and age with your submissions.</b></span></span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Here's Roshan's story for you...</b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: large;"> ADVERTISEMENT ENACTING COMPETITION</span></b><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Roshan is keenly watching all the
advertisements today because he has to participate in an advertisement
enactment competition tomorrow.</span></b></span><br />
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">He has been outstanding in Quiz, Essay
writing, and Poem-Recitation. His brain never lets him down. </span></b></span><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">However, enacting an advertisement for
selling a product is a different ballgame for him. Here, his appearance would
matter. Synchronization, content, and performance would be the key.</span></b></span></span> </blockquote>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">Unlike every other day, he isn't fighting with
his sister for the TV remote. Neither does he urge her to switch to his
favourite cartoon channel. And, even stranger is that he looks at the TV screen
only when the ad break comes and scribbles in his notebook as he watches the advertisements. He reads the notes
when the program resumes.</span></b></span></span> </blockquote>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">He looks nervous.</span></b></span><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">Tomorrow is Saturday. He has to put on the
white uniform with white canvas shoes. His uniform should not be shabby. He
runs out of the room and returns with his rundown canvas shoes and the bottle
of liquid polish.</span></b></span></span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
<b style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><span lang="EN-GB">One thick coat and his carefulness change
the look of the shoes.</span></b><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">The morning dawns. He is shaky as if it is
the biggest test of his life. </span></b></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">His competitors in the class always say, 'You can beat
everyone in academics but we will settle the account in dramatics and sports.'</span></b></span> <span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">He knows that they are better in these fields but he wants to give them stiff
competition. </span></b></span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">The school auditorium is full of cheer and
anticipation. The non-participants, sitting on the carpeted floor, are eagerly
waiting for the participants to enact the same advertisements which they watch on TV
with some innovation. They expect a great show from their talented peers. </span></b></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">The stage is about four feet high. Eight
participants, two from each house are sitting in the right corner. The sweat of
nervousness has appeared on their red faces. </span></b></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">The hall is beaming with life. Its lonely
and hungry walls cherish the whispers, giggles and childish nimbleness. </span></b></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">The announcer reaches the lectern. Her
greeting words mingle with the elated utterances of the chaotically busy
audience. She repeats louder. Silence and stillness follow. </span></b></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">Every participant will pick up two chits. Every chit has the names of the products. He or she can choose one
product and will have to enact an advertisement for it," s</span></b></span><b style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">he reads out the rules.</b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></b></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">The four judges are ready with their
pencils and heedful eyes. </span></b></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">Roshan is the first to go up. He draws out
the chits from the bowl with trembling hands. He unfolds them one by one and
mumbles, "Shoes and Ketchup." He thinks for a while and hands over the 'Shoes'
chit to the announcer. Her lips read the word to the mic for the audience to
hear. </span></b></span></blockquote>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"> </span><b><span style="color: #134f5c;">He nods to the announcer's signal to start the act.</span></b><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">Roshan parades forward from the back of the stage saying, "Bata is the best quality," he jumps, "My sports-shoes,
school-shoes, and party-shoes." He runs back and repeats.</span></b></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<b style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span lang="EN-GB">There is a hole in your Bata shoe-sole," someone in the audience shouts and guffaws. More taunts and laughter follow.
Rohan freezes in the middle of the wooden platform. His toe feels the cold
polished surface as he walks away.................</span></b></blockquote>
<b> ( Story by Gaurav Sharma )</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="color: #c27ba0;">Now, it's your turn to add to this story. What does Roshan do next? How does he respond to this insult?</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="color: #c27ba0;"><br /></span></b></i>
<i><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">Come on, we are eager to know where you end this story.</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="color: #bf9000;"><br /></span></b></i>
<i><b><span style="color: #bf9000;"><br /></span></b></i>
<span style="color: red;"><b><i>*********************************************************************************</i></b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Let us introduce the honourable judges who will select the winner.</b><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;"><b> Mr. Nuranis Ravi</b></span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #351c75;">A Delhite and alumni of the University of Delhi, Mr. N.S. Ravi has authored five books- ‘Those were the days’, 'Khan Vs Kahn Vs Kanh', ‘Marriage Made in Mumbai Local’, ‘Different Shades of Women’ and ‘The Leader’. Mr. Ravi has lived and worked in Europe, Africa, and India for a large number of his professional years.</span></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #e69138;"> </span><span style="color: #b45f06;">Mr. Ratnadip Acharya</span></b></span></div>
<div>
<br />
<b><span style="color: #351c75;">Mr. Acharya is an author and a columnist. His pen has produced two successful novels- 'Life is Always Aimless...Unless you love it' and 'Paradise Lost & Regained'. He lives in Mumbai and a columnist for 'The Speaking Tree' in The Times of India.</span></b></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;"><b>Mr. Om Tiwari</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<b style="color: #20124d;">Mr. Tiwari is a journalist with a reputed news channel in Delhi. He chose journalism for a career because of his love for writing. He puts across his views on the issues related to politics, society, movies, books, and personalities through his blog.</b><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><b>We have something more for you. We are proudly introducing the winners of the first two editions of </b></span> <b style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;">आओ बचपन सींचें'</span></span></b><br />
<b style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span></b><b style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;">⧭</span></span></b>
<b style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d;">1. Mr. Harsh Tripathi</span></span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3KupBYDTWtNWoFrHL8R-jNpxvocfhGGscuf1dS8Nrej-b1GapxcReb9cV5jDCqzLmBOM2RE8E1RNO-TTI-ye2jgzPyVW0o2-3OG2RCj9IrlhGbBLXZXawhiMZ7zZr4HGX04Qesm-X8rI/s1600/IMG_20190821_221741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3KupBYDTWtNWoFrHL8R-jNpxvocfhGGscuf1dS8Nrej-b1GapxcReb9cV5jDCqzLmBOM2RE8E1RNO-TTI-ye2jgzPyVW0o2-3OG2RCj9IrlhGbBLXZXawhiMZ7zZr4HGX04Qesm-X8rI/s320/IMG_20190821_221741.jpg" width="240" /></a><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></span></b><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></span></b>
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<b style="font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: blue;">I'm a student of class 9 studying in Hansraj Smarak Senior Secondary School, Dilshad Garden, Delhi.</span></span></b><br />
<b style="font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: blue;">I aspire to be an IAS officer. I love to indulge in deep thinking and read sci-fi and fantasy stories.</span></span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></span></b>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></span></b><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d;">2. Ms. Kesar Bajaj</span></span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMBaZ2Li3GMhnxpJdeDuFmKUJrTh7iGzcrlb_ecz6CCx4dtgGjuTJOoYbs1h1wcnf72qLf1Wd1l-ncAthC4QwjRCDPzFMhcGXV6NTo20xLIGSEmEf3bJEn-xWwywHfVh7aZbxmKVz8rI/h120/20190824_190543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMBaZ2Li3GMhnxpJdeDuFmKUJrTh7iGzcrlb_ecz6CCx4dtgGjuTJOoYbs1h1wcnf72qLf1Wd1l-ncAthC4QwjRCDPzFMhcGXV6NTo20xLIGSEmEf3bJEn-xWwywHfVh7aZbxmKVz8rI/h120/20190824_190543.jpg" width="260" /></a><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></span></b><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d;"></span></span></b><br />
<b style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="color: black; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: blue;">I'm a student of class 9 studying in Sarvodya Vidyalaya, I.P. Extension, Patparganj, Delhi.</span></span></b></span></span></b><br />
<b style="font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: blue;">Besides studying, I love to play Football.</span></span></b>
<b style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span></b>
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<b><span style="color: #274e13;">Congratulations to Harsh and Kesar. We wish them all the best for their future.</span><span style="color: lime;"> </span></b></div>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-52492558757354868112019-08-18T00:11:00.002-07:002019-08-18T01:03:42.607-07:00PHYSICAL LETTERS- FRAGRANCE OF WARMTH AND LOVE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "akkurat std" , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "oxygen" , "ubuntu" , "cantarell" , "helvetica neue" , sans-serif , "arial"; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "akkurat std" , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "oxygen" , "ubuntu" , "cantarell" , "helvetica neue" , sans-serif , "arial"; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;">आओ बचपन सींचें - 3</span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "akkurat std" , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "oxygen" , "ubuntu" , "cantarell" , "helvetica neue" , sans-serif , "arial"; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">चाहे कितने भी बड़े हो जाएँ, फिर भी हम सब हमेशा थोड़े-थोड़े बच्चे ही रहते हैं l नए कपड़े पहन कर बड़े भी इतराते हैं l जन्मदिन पर गिफ्ट पाकर बड़े भी खुश हो जाते हैं l </span></b><br style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: 400;" /><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">जरूरी है बच्चा बने रहना और बच्चों से जुड़े रहना l </span></b></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "akkurat std" , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "oxygen" , "ubuntu" , "cantarell" , "helvetica neue" , sans-serif , "arial"; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre;"><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-large; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span></b></span>
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<span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: x-large;"><b>PHYSICAL LETTERS- FRAGRANCE OF WARMTH AND LOVE</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #741b47;"><b>Friends, have you ever written a letter to someone in your handwriting?
No, I am not talking about the formal, friendly and official letters in your
school curriculum but the real informal letters that we write or rather used to
write to our friends and relatives.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #741b47;"><b>I know you haven't. Who writes a letter
nowadays? </b></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #741b47;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #741b47;"><b>The communication is restricted to rotating messages on Whatsapp and
other various apps. Technology is such a menace.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #741b47;"><b>It is okay to adapt to the changing times
but these new ways are certainly depriving us of the great fun, rich
experience, memorable pleasure and sound learning that letter-writing imparts.<o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="color: #7f6000;"><span lang="EN-GB">Digital communication is undoubtedly cheaper, saves time and saves us from the hiccups of the long wait. However, they are ingenuine, unfelt, crudely formal and often, borrowed. People rotate them in their circle. Such forwards are a mere formality usually lacking genuine feelings and reverence. Sending such messages may keep your terms with the recipients intact but not the bond. </span>These messages are impersonal and sloppy. They, at times, might convey your exact feelings but still, they are somebody else's words. If you type a one-sentence-message in your own words, people would count it more valuable. </span></b></blockquote>
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<b>As a writer, I know how putting a pen to paper feels. No doubt, technology saves times but it cuts the bonds and takes away the warmth relations must have. The introduction of emoticons was like the final nail in the coffin. These emotion-expressing-images replaced the words and saved us the labour of typing. They do convey the intended message but with the hollowness of formality. The other person readily deciphers it and does the same since the world survives on reciprocation- reciprocation in equal measures and equal degree of genuineness.</b><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiE6pnba__vWcIQDnW0cxSJykQVj1-1P3s3Jm5aGweAWBZXeKIHa3jjy782FHP5jQtQtqja3nFUH5a0n1rCWHwfoLShIoUgyCPYXJz4lKnVEG-DstyAM9EjVB_Tez2nY_cufRmjtDR2IA/s1600/inland2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiE6pnba__vWcIQDnW0cxSJykQVj1-1P3s3Jm5aGweAWBZXeKIHa3jjy782FHP5jQtQtqja3nFUH5a0n1rCWHwfoLShIoUgyCPYXJz4lKnVEG-DstyAM9EjVB_Tez2nY_cufRmjtDR2IA/s1600/inland2.jpg" /></a><b><span style="color: #7f6000;">I wrote my first letter to my grandpa when
I was seven. My father wrote to him regularly on
sky-blue-coloured-Inland-Letters. We always had a bunch of them at home. It
cost just thirty-five paisa and needed no postage stamp.</span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000;"><b>It had three leaves to write on and space
for the names and addresses of both the recipient and the sender.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000;"><b>An Inland letter can be sent anywhere in
India- that's what inland means here.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #7f6000;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000;"><b>Once, after writing on the two pages, my
father asked my sister and me to divide the third leaf into two halves and write
short letters to our grandpa. He guided us about the beginning and told us what
we should write. We did that gleefully and waited anxiously for grandpa's
response.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000;"><b>The reply, when finally came, was
overwhelming. </b></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">He had written, "Reading the first letter from my
grandchildren gave me an unforgettable moment of joy and pride. I read their
innocent words umpteen times and had tears in my eyes."</span></blockquote>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #38761d;"><b>His reply encouraged us. Our writing to him
on the third page of the inland-letter after our father filled the first two
became a ritual. Gradually, our letters were becoming longer and innovative.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #38761d;"><b>After a few months, I wrote to him my first
independent letter on an 'unshared' Inland-letter. After some years, we started
writing letters to pen-friends and exchanged books and souvenirs. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #38761d;"><b><br /></b></span>
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span lang="EN-GB">When my father got a transfer from Pune to
Gwalior, I used to miss my friends and teachers. We exchanged letters. I was fond
of my Hindi teacher Mr. </span>Ved Prakash Mishra. Every time I wrote to him, I used to
ask questions about life and poetry. He replied with elaborate explanation and
zeal. We communicated through letters for many years. His letters were like a
treasure for they were the testimonials of his knowledge and prowess in
literature. I proudly concede that writing letters is a privilege and I largely
owe my writing skills to this lost practice.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></b>
<span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: large;">Physical letters have a charm of their own.
Your heart starts beating faster as you receive a letter and doesn't retrieve
until you open it and read. My experience says every person reads a letter he
receives from his family or friends many times before keeping it in a safe.</span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-size: large;">Along with the sizzling smell of paper and
ink, a physical letter contains the unadulterated fragrance of emotions and
bondage. Through the hand-written words, you can peep into the heart of that
person and might see him speaking those words to you.</span></span></blockquote>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3dOOVr3sDFwWUvYvDdl1vs_lkeuckE4SMorWoUYQxHYz89SVYxDcDCCGdfjkSYsTPyFC_yfi5YPmnH2E_HmUceaceS23lWH-fvNvK9ZtnJXP7fvaxlkWJbsU8RH8ITJ1LUY9fkDyhnaA/s1600/inland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="265" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3dOOVr3sDFwWUvYvDdl1vs_lkeuckE4SMorWoUYQxHYz89SVYxDcDCCGdfjkSYsTPyFC_yfi5YPmnH2E_HmUceaceS23lWH-fvNvK9ZtnJXP7fvaxlkWJbsU8RH8ITJ1LUY9fkDyhnaA/s400/inland.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #660000;"><b><br /></b></span>
<b style="color: #660000;">The only thing where the modern messaging
apps score over the physical letters is the instantaneity. But, we tend to be
short and barren as regards to emotions. There is nothing to savour, unlike
physical letters that we preserved for years and read them time and again, feeling the same fragrance every time.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #660000;">Interaction is a destination and
communication is the path to reach it. The promptness of digital communication
is certainly a boon but isn't it making us emotionless, dry and less likable.
Please ponder.</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b>Today, I urge you all to write a postal
letter to someone- a letter long enough with words coming from your heart. For
a change, let your handwritten words speak for you. I swear you will not
regret. </b></span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b>Please give yourself the pleasure of the privilege of
writing a letter. A letter comes up when the heart dictates what it feels, hand writes, and eyes wear the expression that those emotions translate into. You will smell the real warmth and love.</b></span></span></blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b>And, please do convey how you felt and how the other person responded to your 'unusual' gesture.</b></span></span></blockquote>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-91207201884102334932019-08-10T17:40:00.000-07:002019-08-18T00:44:51.528-07:00जीवन के लिए 'एनर्जी- ड्रिंक' जैसे होते हैं त्यौहार<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"> <span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #660000;">आओ बचपन सींचें -२ </span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><b style="background-color: white;"> </b></span><b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">चाहे कितने भी बड़े हो जाएँ, फिर भी हम सब हमेशा थोड़े-थोड़े बच्चे ही रहते हैं l नए कपड़े पहन कर बड़े भी इतराते हैं l जन्मदिन पर गिफ्ट पाकर बड़े भी खुश हो जाते हैं l </span></b><br />
<b style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">जरूरी है बच्चा बने रहना और बच्चों से जुड़े रहना l </span></b><br style="background-color: #fefdfa; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><b style="background-color: white;"> </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><b> त्योहारों का हफ्ता</b></span></span><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">जीवन के लिए 'एनर्जी- ड्रिंक' जैसे होते हैं त्यौहार </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #c27ba0;">दोस्तों,</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #c27ba0;">अगला सप्ताह खुशियों का सप्ताह है चार दिन में तीन बड़े त्यौहार हैं l प्रत्येक त्यौहार के कुछ दिन पहले से ही हमारे मन में जो ख़ुशी, उमंग और उत्साह होता है ना, शायद वो काफी है ये समझने के लिए कि त्यौहार हमारे जीवन में कितना महत्व रखते हैं l त्योहारों के बिना जीवन कितना नीरस और उबाऊ होगा , कल्पना करके देखिये l समय समय पर आते त्यौहार हमें उमंग और उल्लास से भर देते हैं l</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b style="background-color: white;"> १२ अगस्त को बकरीद है इसे ईद-उल-अज़हा या ईद- उल-जुहा भी कहते हैं l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b style="background-color: white;"> बकरीद मीठी ईद के दो महीने बाद मनाई जाती है ये क़ुरबानी का त्यौहार है l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b style="background-color: white;"> हज़रत इब्राहिम ने अपना पूरा जीवन परोपकार के लिए समर्पित कर दिया पर उनके कोई संतान न थीl तब 90 वर्ष की आयु में खुदा ने उनको एक पुत्र बक्शा और सपने में आकर उनसे उनके प्रिय जानवर की क़ुरबानी माँगी l उन्होंने सबसे पहले ऊँट की क़ुरबानी दी लेकिन सपना दोबारा आया l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b style="background-color: white;">हज़रत इब्राहिम अपने प्रिय जानवरों की क़ुरबानी देते रहे पर सपने आने बंद ना हुए l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b style="background-color: white;">अंत में उन्होंने अपने पुत्र की क़ुरबानी देने का फैसला किया l आँख पर पट्टी बाँधकर उन्होंने अपने पुत्र की क़ुरबानी दे डाली लेकिन जब पट्टी खोली तो पुत्र को खेलता पाया l उनके पुत्र की क़ुरबानी बकरे की क़ुरबानी में बदल चुकी थी l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b style="background-color: white;">ईद-उल-जुहा का त्यौहार हज़रत इब्राहिम के जज़्बे को सलाम करने का त्यौहार है l बकरे की क़ुरबानी के बाद उसके माँस को तीन भागों में बाँटा जाता है - एक भाग गरीबों के लिए, दूसरा रिश्तेदारों और दोस्तों के लिए और तीसरा अपने लिए रखा जाता है l</b></span></div>
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<b>बचपन में मेरा एक दोस्त था -आज़ाद शेख ईद पर हम उसके घर होते थे और राखी पर वो हमारे घर l हम शाकाहारी हैं इसलिए सेवँईया मिलती थी हमें - दूध में पकी सूखी सेवँईया जिसमे खूब सारे काजू-बादाम-किशमिश डले होते थे, बड़ी स्वाद होती थीं l</b></span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">कुछ सालों बाद एक दोस्त मिला - रोशन मुशीर l उसके घर जाता था तो बहुत प्यार मिलता था l मीठी ईद पर उसकी अम्मी पाँच तरह की सेवँईया बनाती थीं - पाँचों एक से बढ़कर एक l</b></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">आज़ाद और मुशीर दोनों के घरों में मुझे ईद पर ईदी मिलती थी और वो सेवँईया इतनी स्वाद होती थीं कि हम भी ईद का इंतज़ार किया करते थे साथ-साथ त्यौहार मनाने का आनंद ही कुछ और है l</b></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><b style="background-color: white;">चार दिन बाद बड़ा शुभ दिन है l भावनाओं के दो बड़े त्यौहार एक ही दिन हैं l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><b style="background-color: white;">आप भी मेरी तरह इन त्योहारों के लिए उत्साहित होंगें l आने वाले दोनों त्यौहार तो सबके प्रिय त्यौहार होते हैं l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><b style="background-color: white;">स्वतंत्रता दिवस और रक्षाबंधन भावनाओँ को ओत-प्रोत करने वाले त्यौहार हैं l एक देश के प्रति देशवासियों के प्रेम को दर्शाता है तो दूसरा भाई-बहन के पावन रिश्ते को और भी प्रगाढ़ कर जाता है l</b></span></div>
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<b>मेरे पिताजी वायुसेना में कार्यरत थे और देशप्रेमी थे l पंद्रह अगस्त कि छुट्टी हमारे लिए और छुट्टियों से अलग होती थी l लाल किले पर ध्वजारोहण और प्रधानमंत्री के अभिभाषण का सीधा प्रसारण देखना हमारे लिए अनिवार्य था l पिताजी रोज की तरह उस दिन भी सुबह पाँच बजे उठते थे और हम सभी भाई-बहनों को भी उठा देते थे l सीधा प्रसारण शुरू होने से पहले सबको स्नान कर लेना भी अनिवार्य था l पिताजी उस दिन विशेषतः सफ़ेद कुर्ता-पजामा पहनते थे l</b></span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">सभी के तैयार हो जाने पर हमारा लकड़ी के कैबिनेट में शटरबंद Black & White टीवी चालू किया जाता था l पिताजी बड़े संयम से हमारे सारे प्रश्नों के उत्तर देते थे l राष्ट्रीय गान के समय पिताजी खड़े हो जाते थे और हमें भी खड़े होने के लिए कहते थे l</b></div>
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<b>लाल किले पर समारोह समाप्त होने के बाद पतंग उड़ाने का कार्यक्रम प्रारम्भ होता था l पंद्रह अगस्त पर हर बार नई चरखड़ी आती थी और रंग-बिरंगी ढेर सारी पतंगें भी l पिताजी पतंग उड़ाते थे और मैं चरखड़ी पकड़ता था l मुझे पतंग उड़ाना कभी नहीं आया l आज भी नहीं आता l बचपन में मुझे क्रिकेट का ही भूत सवार रहता था लेकिन पतंग उड़ाते समय एक बड़ा ही बढ़िया काम स्वतः ही हो जाता है - आसमान की ओर निहारना l पतंग उड़ाने के अतिरिक्त ऐसा कब करते हैं हम ?</b></span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">शायद ही कभी करते हों l</b></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394;">दोस्तों, आसमान की तरफ कुछ देर देखना l आसमानी मैदान पर सफ़ेद चिट्टे बादल कितनी स्वच्छंदता से उड़ते हैं -जैसे बस उन्हें उनका लक्ष्य दिखाई दे रहा हो और वो उस तक पहुँचने के लिए लालायित हों l उनकी आकृति को पढ़ना भी काफी आनंददायक होता है l बादल अगर काले हों तो देखना, आप उन्हें ज्यादा तेजी से भागते पाओगे l शायद किसी को राहत देने जा रहे होते हैं इसलिए l</span></b></div>
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<b>ऐसी पृष्ठभूमि पर उनसे भी अधिक स्वच्छंदता से उड़ती आपकी रंग-बिरंगी पतंगें आसमान में भी त्यौहार की सी रौनक बना देती हैं मानो बादलों के घर उनकी बहनें आईं हों राखी बाँधने l</b></span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">कहीं इसी कारण से तो हम रक्षाबंधन वाले दिन भी पतंगें नहीं उड़ाते ?</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSOHo0xsXt8Bah2D6N7URMQARZDLkJ3iWV_V1MNY0tMU1UFj72T7hBvvUxOf6RfPTeERe7YW5x90_iIjkvBUvLFBarMWaz0_3MTEOaM09bhRjSa5amqdmeloHlmiqSmiu-etslAbyo_k/s1600/download+%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSOHo0xsXt8Bah2D6N7URMQARZDLkJ3iWV_V1MNY0tMU1UFj72T7hBvvUxOf6RfPTeERe7YW5x90_iIjkvBUvLFBarMWaz0_3MTEOaM09bhRjSa5amqdmeloHlmiqSmiu-etslAbyo_k/s400/download+%25285%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>अगर आसमान साफ़ ना हो तो दूर से झाँकती गहरे रंग की घटायें, सूरज को ढक कर राहत देने की कोशिश करतीं हैं l हाँ, कभी-कभी बरस जातीं हैं पर बरसना उनकी मजबूरी होता है ना ?</b></span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">आसमान के विस्तार को देखने से हमारे अंदर विनम्रता भी आती है l आप भी देखना और बताना कैसा लगा l</b></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">और आसमान में ऊँचे उड़ते पक्षी जहाँ एक ओर ऊँची उड़ान भरने का हौंसला और प्रेरणा दे रहे होते हैं, वहीँ अनुशासन की सीख भी दे रहे होते हैं l</b></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">आसमान अपने आप में किसी पुस्तक से काम नहीं हैं l पिछली बार हमने रात के आसमान की बात की थी पर दिन का आसमान भी कम निराला नहीं होता l</span></b></blockquote>
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<b style="background-color: white;">पतंगे उड़ाया करो , दोस्तों पर पूरी सावधानी के साथ l पतंग उड़ाने की जगह सुरक्षित होनी चाहिए अगर छत पर उड़ा रहे हो तो वहा मुंडेर होनी जरूरी है l</b></div>
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLziswkeCiC0L0FI2oqF-bkEhTkD-eOeFV17JzKysNae04uyI7yNNbJ0QbebPfpvaVAmiD8hfNl_Ub3Xeutbsn32AdVqn3R6O1nXaFWHMdZT-7UvtFVngXs21cLMqsZR2kVOTu6bUmXLc/s1600/download+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="background-color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="248" data-original-width="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLziswkeCiC0L0FI2oqF-bkEhTkD-eOeFV17JzKysNae04uyI7yNNbJ0QbebPfpvaVAmiD8hfNl_Ub3Xeutbsn32AdVqn3R6O1nXaFWHMdZT-7UvtFVngXs21cLMqsZR2kVOTu6bUmXLc/s1600/download+%25284%2529.jpg" /></span></a><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: white;">पतंगें अपनी डोर के अधीन नहीं होतीं ... ना ही उस पर आश्रित होतीं हैं l डोर पतंग को आसमान तक ले जाती है और फिर स्वच्छंदता से गोते खाने देती है, विचरने देती है और आसमान छूने देती है l डोर स्वयं आसमान नहीं छू पाती l हमारे माता-पिता और शिक्षक भी तो ऐसी ही डोर होते हैं ना ?</b></span></blockquote>
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<b>पतंगे उड़ानी चाहिए पर लूटनी नहीं चाहिए l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>चलिए, अब रक्षाबंधन की बात करते हैं l</b></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">आप सभी अपनी बहनों और भाइयों से लड़ते होंगें l स्वाभाविक है l लेकिन जब कोई और आपकी बहन या भाई के बारे में कुछ दे तो आप को ही सबसे अधिक बुरा भी लगता होगा l यही तो है इस अनूठे रिश्ते की खासियत l</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">बड़ा प्यारा होता है ये रिश्ता l</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHlVBbzn71PwWo8jPZx7_CTjedBr98FdFmiSIYO0_RsWri08RZR7jwl8Emgs5cN4iwlKDGFNcK26W5oT4cK_yxJ_4BZ2RZ5EXZpsLNE8otfpQk9BK2WAAAyTxpfEL8cCntETJyiveXls/s1600/download+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="background-color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHlVBbzn71PwWo8jPZx7_CTjedBr98FdFmiSIYO0_RsWri08RZR7jwl8Emgs5cN4iwlKDGFNcK26W5oT4cK_yxJ_4BZ2RZ5EXZpsLNE8otfpQk9BK2WAAAyTxpfEL8cCntETJyiveXls/s1600/download+%25282%2529.jpg" /></span></a><b style="background-color: white;">कितनी ही बार बहन भाई को मम्मी-पापा की डाँट से बचाती है ल मुझे तो बचपन में ना जाने कितनी बार मेरी बहनों ने मुझे बचाया है l</b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b>रक्षाबंधन निश्छल और पवित्र भावनाओं का त्यौहार है l</b><b>चावल के दानो से सजा रोली का टीका माथे पर लगवाकर और बहन द्वारा कड़े परिश्रम और बहुत चाव से छाँटी हुई प्यारी सी राखी बँधवाकर हर भाई स्वयं को कितना सौभाग्यशाली समझता है l रेशम या सूत का धागा जब भाई की कलाई पर बंध जाता है तो बहन का विश्वास और स्नेह उसे कई गुना मजबूत बना देता है l <span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">एक कोमल सा धागा जब भाई की कलाई पर सज जाता है तो वह कोमल नहीं रहता। बहनें धागे में गूँथकर अपार स्नेह व भावनाएँ बाँधती है। कुछ दिन बाद, भाई जब उस धागे को उतारता है तो तोड़ता नहीं, बड़ा जतन लगा के खोलता है और उसे संभाल कर रखता है।</span></span></b></span></blockquote>
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<b style="background-color: white;">इस बार जब आपकी बहन आपकी कलाई पर राखी बाँध रही हो तो उसकी आँखों में देखना l</b></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">आपको स्नेह और विश्वास की अनोखी चमक दिखेगी जो शायद और दिन उतनी ना दमकती हो l</b></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">राखी बंधवाते हुए आपके अंदर भी प्रेम उमड़ आता होगा और बहन की सदा रक्षा करने का संकल्प और अधिक प्रबल हो जाता होगा l</b></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">दोस्तों, शायद हमारे भारत में ही रिश्तों के त्यौहार मनाये जाते हैं l ऐसे सारे त्योहारों के पीछे कितनी सुन्दर और सच्ची भावनाएँ होतीं हैं आप सभी ने की होंगीं l</b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #4c1130;">अभी दो दिन पहले मैं पोस्ट-ऑफिस में किसी काम से गया था बहुत से लोग राखियों के लिफ़ाफ़े स्पीड-पोस्ट से भेजने के लिए खड़े थे l एक युवती लाइन से निकलकर काउंटर पर आई और पूछा , " लिफ़ाफ़े में राखी के साथ चॉकलेट रख सकते हैं ना ?" उनकी आँखों में चमक थी और आवाज़ में उत्साह l</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #4c1130;">काउंटर पर बैठीं पोस्ट-ऑफिस अधिकारी ने रूखे लहज़े में उत्तर दिया, " क्या फायदा होगा? पिघल जाएगी l"</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5NmG-YhGL9eaJ7Bh4TAEgP2rry2a9hlCpUuNbT5-Dfvruro53_dCazAMThJ428bqnuneuoWq6LikbHK5KhfXmlumd_D9KOk7u1zh7rfJRKqv-YbdtT-fRhulkKsCQufTDZEkQuC8H8I/s1600/images+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="background-color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="280" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5NmG-YhGL9eaJ7Bh4TAEgP2rry2a9hlCpUuNbT5-Dfvruro53_dCazAMThJ428bqnuneuoWq6LikbHK5KhfXmlumd_D9KOk7u1zh7rfJRKqv-YbdtT-fRhulkKsCQufTDZEkQuC8H8I/s400/images+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47;"><b> युवती मायूस होकर अपने स्थान पर लौट गई l मन हुआ आगे बढ़कर उस युवती से कहूँ, "रख दीजिये l आपने पुछा ही क्यों ?" तभी यही बात लाइन में उस युवती के पीछे खड़ी महिला ने उससे कह दी l मुझे आश्चर्य भी हुआ कि एक स्त्री होते हुए भी पोस्ट- ऑफिस अधिकारी उस युवती की भावनाओं को समझ ना पाई l</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47;"><b style="background-color: white;">चॉकलेट लिफ़ाफ़े में डालते समय युवती की आँखों में चमक लौट आई थी l ऐसा लग रहा था जैसे वो भाई को अपने हाथों से चॉकलेट खिलाने की कल्पना कर रही हो l</b></span></div>
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<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">बचपन की रक्षाबंधन बड़ी यादगार होतीं थीं l </span></span></b></span></div>
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<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">रक्षाबंधन पर स्कूल की छुट्टी तो होती ही थी। मम्मी पता नहीं कब की उठी होतीं थी। झाड़ू- पोंछा हो चुका होता था जब वो हमें उठाने के लिए झिंझोड़ती थी। भगवान के आले के दोनों ओर व सारे दरवाजों पर खड़िया से चकोर पुता होता था। मैं उठते ही गीली खड़िया पर उंगली लगाता था तो मम्मी हल्की-सी चपत लगा कर कहती थी, "पूजा होगी। झूठे हाथ लगाता है।"</span></span></b></div>
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<b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #351c75;"><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;" /><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">नहाने के बाद सोहन पूजे जाते थे। हमारे यहाँ यह पूजा पुरुष ही करते हैं । कटोरी में गेरू घुला होता था व माचिस की तिली पर रुई लिपटी होती थी। पिताजी सफेद चकोर पर "श्री कृष्ण शरणम् मम:" लिखते थे। गुंधे आटे की बत्तियों से कलावे का हार लगाते थे और रोली के छींटे मार कर भोग लगाते थे। मैं पूजा की थाली पकड़े ध्यान से सब देखता था।</span><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;" /><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">उस समय मम्मी रसोई में कड़ी-चावल बना रही होती थीं। लम्बे श्रावण मास के बाद कड़ी की अटक खुलती है रक्षाबंधन वाले दिन। </span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;" /><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">फिर मेरी तीनों बहनें मुझे राखी बाँधती थीं, मीठाई खिलाती थीं और आरती उतारती थीं। फिर मैं पापा के दिए हुए पैसे उन्हें देता था। </span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">मैं शैतान था पर उस दिन बड़ा ही संवेदनशील और भावुक हो जाया करता था। </span></span></b><b style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><br style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;" /><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">इस त्यौहार की सबसे अच्छी बात है घर में लगने वाला जमावड़ा। बुआओं का आना l फिर मम्मी का मामाओं के घर जाना। मूल्य बताकर नहीं सिखाए जाते, निभाकर सिखाए जाते हैं। </span></span></b></span></div>
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समय बदल गया है l आज भाइयों द्वारा बहन की रक्षा का प्रण लेने से अधिक आवश्यक है कि भाई, बहन को अपनी रक्षा स्वयं करना भी सिखाये l साथ ही साथ उसे स्वावलंबी और मानसिक रूप से मजबूत बनने में उसकी सहायता करे, उसे बराबर का दर्जा दे , उसे और उसके विचारों को समझे और उसका सम्मान करे l </span></b></blockquote>
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<b><span style="color: #bf9000;">प्रत्येक त्यौहार उमंग और उत्साह के साथ मनाएँ और ख़ुशी दूसरों के साथ भी बाँटे l</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #bf9000;">देश से प्यार करें l देशवासियों का सम्मान करें l खुद से प्यार करें l अपने रिश्तों को सहेज कर रखें l खुश रहे और दूसरों को खुश रखें l </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #bf9000;">आप सभी को खुशियों भरे आगामी सप्ताह के सभी त्योहरों की हार्दिक शुभकामनाएँ l</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #bf9000;">आपने ईद, स्वतंत्रता दिवस और रक्षाबंधन के त्यौहार कैसे मनाये, अवश्य शेयर करियेगा l</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #bf9000;">ब्लॉग के विषय में आपके सुझावों का स्वागत है l</span></b></div>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-8266726354755079212019-08-03T21:15:00.002-07:002019-08-10T20:32:05.774-07:00छत की सैर - आओ बचपन सींचें ...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-large;"><b>आओ बचपन सींचें ...</b></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #674ea7;">चाहे कितने भी बड़े हो जाएँ, फिर भी हम सब हमेशा थोड़े-थोड़े बच्चे ही रहते हैं l नए कपड़े पहन कर बड़े भी इतराते हैं l जन्मदिन पर गिफ्ट पाकर बड़े भी खुश हो जाते हैं l </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #674ea7;">जरूरी है बच्चा बने रहना और बच्चों से जुड़े रहना l </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">प्यारे दोस्तों,</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: blue;">Sunday का दिन है </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: blue;">आओ कुछ बातें करें..</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue;">कुछ मैं तुम्हे सुनाऊँ </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue;">कुछ तुम मुझे बताओ </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue;">क्यों हमेशा homework </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue;">और assignments में उलझे रहें,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue;">या Whattsapp , Instagram, Facebook में खोए रहें </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue;">आओ, एक दुसरे के चश्मे से दुनिया देखते हैं </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue;">Sunday की इस सुबह में रंग भरते हैं ....</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #741b47;">दोस्तों, ये आपसे जुड़ने का एक प्रयास है, आपको कोई उपदेश या सीख देने की कोशिश नहीं l मैं अपने बचपन की बातें आपके साथ share करूँगा l फिर comment box के जरिये या ईमेल से आप कोई मिलती-जुलती बात मुझे बताना l उनमे से कुछ बातें मैं अगले ब्लॉग में शेयर करूँगा l </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">और हाँ, </span></b><span style="color: #741b47;"><b>आपके द्वारा भेजे गए Experiences में से किसी एक </b></span><b><span style="color: #741b47;"> entry को prize भी मिलेगा l </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">कुछ न भी share करना हो तो आपको </span></b><span style="color: #741b47;"><b>हमारी पोस्ट </b></span><b><span style="color: #741b47;"> </span></b><span style="color: #741b47;"><b>कैसी लगी </b></span><b><span style="color: #741b47;">, जरूर बताइयेगा ....</span><span style="color: blue;">.</span></b><br />
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<b style="color: blue;"> </b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: x-large;"><b> छत की सैर </b></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">बचपन बड़ा सुहाना था </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">जैसे दही-बड़े की चटनी में पड़ा </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">मोटा सा अँगूर का दाना था l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">घर में पंखा तो था </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">पर बिजली अक्सर </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">मुँह फुलाए रहती थी </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">ना जाने क्यों </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">हमें खुश देखकर </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कुड़ जाया करती थी l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">हम छत पर सोया करते थे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कभी माँ से, कभी पापा से </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कहानियाँ सुन कर </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">आसमान में अपने सपनों के </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">तारे बोया करते थे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कभी दादा-दादी, कभी नाना-नानी </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कभी बुआ, कभी चाचा </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कभी मामा और मौसी </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">आते-जाते रहते थे l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">नई नई कहानियों के </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">मौसम ठहरे रहते थे l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कभी दादाजी का बूढ़ा किस्सा, </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कभी दादी के ठाकुर जी का करतब </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">नानाजी कहते थे मुहावरे और कहावतें </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">नानी समझाया करती थीं उनका मतलब </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">बुआ की अटपटी होती थीं पहेलियाँ </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">खुजा-खुजा बाल नोच डालते थे हम सब l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">चाचा पहले तो तुक वाले शब्दों की </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कराते थे कलाबाजियाँ </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">फिर उनके साथ मिलकर </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">हम झटपट पिरो देते थे काफिया l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">मामा जब भी आते थे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">पुरानी दिल्ली की चाट लाते थे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">और एक रुमाल की पोटली में </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">भूतों के कारनामे वाले </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">मुसे-सिकुड़े अखबार भी आते थे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">हम दिन में हेकड़ी से पढ़ते थे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">रात को भीगी बिल्ली बन जाते थे l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">दीवारों पर परछाई देख </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">छोटी पिपलु चीख पड़ती थी </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">पापा की डाँट के डर से </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">मामा चादर में छुप जाते थे l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">वो रात दादा -दादी वाली थी </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">नई कहानियाँ आने वाली थीं </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">तीन गद्दे सटाकर बिछाये थे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">चाँद को सिरहाने के पीछे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">छोड़ आए थे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">मैं, दादा, बीच में सुपलु और पिपलु </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">फिर दादी और फिर बब्लु </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">"दादू, अगर हम अपनी गुड़िया ले आएँगे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">तो हम भी सप्तऋषि (Great Bear or Ursa Major) बन जाएँगे l"</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">"हाँ, जाओ, झटपट ले आओ </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">अपना भी सप्तऋषि बनाओ l"</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">"देखो वहाँ, </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">आसमान में </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">शायद सप्तऋषि की शादी है </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">देखो बिच्छू (Scorpio Constellation) की पूँछ भी आधी है </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">चाँद भी देखो, सजा-धजा है </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">इसे भी दावत का चस्का लगा है l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">ध्रुव तारा, खूंटे से बंधा बेचारा </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">देखो, हँसता हुआ लगे कितना प्यारा l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">दादाजी दादी को मास्टरजी बुलाते थे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">क्यों, कभी ना किसी को बताते थे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">"मास्टरजी, </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">हवा शायद नाराज़ है </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">या उसकी तबियत नासाज़ है </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कितनी देर हुई </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">चल ही नहीं रही है </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">बीजना ले आओ, गर्मी बड़ी है l"</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">दादी ने तकिये पर कोहनी टिकाई </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">सिर ऊँचा कर उसके नीचे हथेली लगाई </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">"सात कानों (One-eyed person) के नाम लो </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">देखना, हवा चल जाएगी"</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">दादी ने तरकीब सुझाई </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">"कैसी बात करती हो, मास्टरजी </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">सात </span></b><b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">कानों</span></b><b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;"> के नाम बच्चे कहाँ ढूँढ पाएँगे </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">इस काम में तो घंटों लग जाएँगे"</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">"बच्चों, दादाजी चुनौती दे रहें हैँ </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">तुम सबको हल्के में ले रहें हैँ </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">चलो, पहला नाम मैं कहती हूँ </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">'कौए' से शुरुआत करती हूँ "</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">दादी से तब पोती बोली </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">पिपलु की जिज्ञासा डोली </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">"कौआ क्या काना होता है? </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">वो तो बस, काला होता है l"</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">"बतलाऊँगी, बतलाऊँगी कहानी वो भी </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">हवा तो चल जाने दो l</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">गिनती को आगे बढ़ाओ </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">और कानों के नाम बताओ"</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">"नुक्कड़ वाले श्रीनिवास अंकल "</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;"> "अरे ! शकुनि भी तो काना था"</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif;">"स्कूल वाली माई जी भी हैँ "</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>"चार हुए, तीन अभी भी बाकी हैँ "</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>बहुत दिमाग दौड़ाया हमने </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>और काने ना मिले </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>एक-एक करके सो गए सारे </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>हवा चले, ना चले l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>बड़े हो गए तब ये समझा </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>वो तो तरकीब थी दादी की </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>सोयी हवा से ध्यान हटे हमारा </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>इसलिए कानों की गिनती करा दी थी l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>दोस्तों, </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>तुम भी कभी-कभी </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>रात को छत पर जाया करो </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>हो सके तो किसी बड़े को </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>साथ अपने ले जाया करो l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Gibbous और Crescent moon से </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>किताबों में ही क्यों मिलते हो </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Ursa Major और Minor, </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Orion और Scorpio भी </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>तुम्हारा इंतज़ार करते हैँ </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>कभी-कभी जाकर इन्हें </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Hello बोल आया करो l</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>ताजी हवा बड़े काम की </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>काले आसमान में सुनहरे तारों की </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>कसीदाकारी बड़े नाम की </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>रोज Exhibition लगती है </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>तुम भी देख आया करो l</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>दोस्तों, </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>तुम भी कभी-कभी </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>रात को छत पर जाया करो </b></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">ये शुरुआत मैंने Friendship Day से आप सब के साथ लम्बी दोस्ती के लिए की हैl </span></b></div>
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<b style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">अपने सुझाव, प्रतिक्रिया-अच्छी या बुरी, मुझ तक पहुँचाते रहिएगा l</span></b></div>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-24146642770836139872019-07-29T02:22:00.001-07:002019-07-29T02:22:24.932-07:00THE LAST BALL SIX- REVIEW<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b>THE LAST BALL SIX- REVIEW</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5E9auSVCCZylEM5j93axPIF8V5NDsun4Pb06GJjwAnhZxsxjj7jWt12GD38U1qWch3mq7YWOubSGk-7ANYV8fn6ywdYemNcAWa6e2sh3Y-1z3GoCjmC3WSA-XgLGgyZcpRtHF0y0duTY/s1600/41VW0SbJfQL._SX324_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="326" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5E9auSVCCZylEM5j93axPIF8V5NDsun4Pb06GJjwAnhZxsxjj7jWt12GD38U1qWch3mq7YWOubSGk-7ANYV8fn6ywdYemNcAWa6e2sh3Y-1z3GoCjmC3WSA-XgLGgyZcpRtHF0y0duTY/s320/41VW0SbJfQL._SX324_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: purple;">A Racy, Hilarious Saga of a Mad, Mad Indian Cricket Fan</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: purple;">If cricket could be equated to religion, Tijinder Tuteja or Titu would automatically qualify as Devotee Number One. Period. Cricket was the elixir of life for him.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: purple;">Over time, Titu gets addicted to T20 - the new, bang-bang variety of cricket. His favourite team is the Punjab Pulverizers and his god is Khoobraj Singh, the PP's acest batsman. In a bit of a stroke of luck, Titu wins a couples entry-pass to the final match of BPL - the Bharatiya Premier League - the T20 cricket tournament on the face of this earth... and the cherry on the cake is that PP are going to be playing HH - the Haryana Hounds.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: purple;">It turns out to be quite a humdinger of a match - sending Titu's heart-rate and blood pressure soaring with each passing minute. He turns very pale and begins to perspire copiously. But so engrossed is he in the match that he doesn't feel the gnawing pain creeping up his chest until suddenly, he collapses in his seat and his heart stops beating. Horrified, Tilottama, his wife, let's out a scream of despair which promptly gets lost in the excited, unrelenting uproar all around them.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: purple;">What happens then? Does cricket manage to, quite literally, kill its biggest fan? Or does cricket, with one, final, life-saving stroke of its bat, manage to redeem the life of its biggest patron ever?</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: purple;">Who wins this match of life and death? Find out!</span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> <span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>REVIEW</b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">I don’t remember who introduced me to
cricket but, I started playing with ‘Thapki’ the baton for beating clothes
every household had before the washing machines became common and compulsory.
Gradually, the addiction to cricket grew so much that I even slept with
‘Thapki’. I was six when I got my first bat after much persuasion- a fish cover
with number 5 sticker. Even the shopkeeper tried to dissuade me saying that I
was too small for a fish cover bat and that too so long.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">My father was as strict as Mr Tuteja.
Knowing that he would not allow me to play a match during examination days, I
used to slip away before anyone in the house woke up. Needless to say what sort
of welcome I used to get when I returned after playing. ‘THE LAST BALL SIX’
brought back all memories.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">Delectable, with not a pinch of sorrow in
it. Very Punjabi. Very 'Cricket-ish'. Simple. Unpretentious. Humourous. And,
very relatable. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Pradeep Kapoor, after reading this book
anyone can know why you are a successful paediatrician. You have such fetish
for everything life is about- relationships, families, parenthood, love,
adolescence, even womanhood and most subtly, the indispensable ingredient of
happy living-Humour. Now, I know why in every pic you share, you always appear
smiling even when you are not.</span><span style="color: #351c75;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Oh, you can smile after anything."</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="color: #351c75;"> -Page 199.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">As you read into this book, you realize and
wonder what a devoted student of life the author is. The way he describes the
Tuteja household is remarkable. You feel you are virtually living with that
family. Gradually, you can assume reactions of the others when one of them says
or does something even before reading further. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">All the characters have been so well
crafted that I felt I know them intrinsically. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">The evolution of Indian cricket from naive
participants to giants runs parallel to Titu's (Tijinder Tuteja, the
protagonist) life. The author has given a detailed account of all the major
cricketing events from 1971 to 2011. I won't comment on how essential these
details were to the story, maybe, to portray Titu as a diehard cricket fan, but
they sounded more of a hindrance to the story. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">Everything about this story is so Punjabi.
The author has chosen the names meticulously. They sound familiar and funny at
the same time. Titu's marriage,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> '</span>phoopha
ji' ke tantrums,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mama's (the 'moonch' wali
Helen) cabaret,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the 'Nagin' dance, the
dancing getting 'frighteningly vigorous' just at the gate and not to forget the
'Milni' everything has been so vividly described that the words create a spectacle for you to relish. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">The narration neglecting Titu's old parents
in the last 50 odd pages pinched me. Sorry. I am too emotional to handle this
slump. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #6aa84f;">This is a book for every Punjabi, every
cricket buff and lovers of simple but relatable stories. It will make you
smile, laugh and take you the allies of your childhood that time and life have
mercilessly made blurred.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-30558398237501309752019-07-27T23:30:00.001-07:002019-07-29T02:22:24.957-07:00EVERGLOW- Book Review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">When her father’s unexpected death renders Disha homeless, she is brought to Kolkata by her father’s best friend, to live with them. Home is now a rambling joint family where there are more young men than Disha has even known in all her life. A far cry from the simplicity of her life back in Hamirpur, Disha sets about trying to fit in with the rhythms of this household and its members. And then she meets the second son and star of the family—Siddhant. Sid is the lead guitarist of the rock band, Derozio Dreams, and when he discovers that Disha is a classically trained vocalist, he brings her to his band to enhance their fusion repertoire. Music becomes their meeting ground and with Sid involving himself in her initiation into the band, they draw closer, to the chagrin of some family members, especially his mother, who thinks Disha, the outsider, has transgressed. When Disha’s elder sister wants her to come back to Hamirpur to be seen as a prospective bride for her husband’s cousin, Disha’s fate hangs by a slender thread. Will the promise of love and the music that Disha and Sid make together triumph over all odds?</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;">REVIEW</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>I shall begin by complimenting the author's impeccable
knowledge of music. A couple of years back, I read ‘RASIA’ by Koral Dasgupta that taught me so much
about dance and now this book enlightens me about the numerous ragas. I envy
these Bangla women. Two things I know best about are –Cricket and Mathematics.
Almost everyone is an expert in the former and hardly anyone wants to know
about the latter. SIGH. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>We had Music as a compulsory vocational subject in class
ten. We had all but one period a week and they used to give us grades that went
in our mark sheet. It was only the third week when my teacher told me not to
come to her class ever. I had learnt <i>Arohan </i>and <i>Awrohan </i>by then
and can sing it even today in my hoarse voice. Reading this book, I regretted
to have missed the opportunity to learn music a bit more. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>Besides Music, the joint family, Sid-the protagonist is a
part of, impresses me. They disagree on
almost everything but they dwell together. It would have made no difference to
the story if the author showcased it as a nuclear family but I am glad, she chooses a joint family. Joint families yield so much just at the cost of a little bit of patience
and tolerance. Often, authors make such
choices instinctively and tend to find a justification afterwards same as she
chooses a British woman as the protagonist's mother who plays an undertone
villain and despite her veneer of refinement, she does no good except imparting
her complexion to her kids and English nicknames to every kid of the family.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>Then comes the band -Derozio Dreams. Read the book and I
vouch, you would long to be a part of a Rock band yourself or at least yearn to
watch a Rock concert live. I do. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>There are two remarkable aspects of this book- Music and
Writing. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>'EVERGLOW' would have been a passable and flat love story
but for the chapters involving Music and concerts. The story appears more
lively and cheerful when the band-crew comes into the narration. Music has a
magical aura to enrich, enliven and buoy up everything.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>The disciplined 'Point of View' in the first-person-narrative is commendable. Often, authors infiltrate the boundaries while
telling a story in the first person. The author restrained herself and didn't
hesitate to introduce new names and characters of the protagonist's family even
in the second half as and when the narrator is introduced to them.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>The prose of Nandita Bose always has the tone of poetry
which coaxes the reader to go on and on even though the first twenty pages were
unfathomable. Even as she peruses the glorious but enigmatic equations of
relationships, her mind cannot escape the horrors of religion and
homosexuality.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>Her authority over the language and rich vocabulary are
enviable. The adjectives are not clichéd. Dialogues are piercing. And, to top
that, her understanding of Man-Woman dynamics is subtle and though you may not
accept the psychology she imparts to her characters, you will feel curious to
know what they do next. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>Sid outshines all other characters. He is depicted as a star
and appears so. He is spontaneous, flexible, responsible, dutiful and caring.
There are almost a dozen other male characters but no one comes close to him.
Nandita Bose certainly portrays male characters better than their counterparts.
<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>Disha annoys me. She acts more than her age. She is
indecisive, uncertain, and hence vulnerable. Although she is from a small town
where even mobile phones do not work and she also confesses that her new home
has more young men she has ever known in all her life, she is easy-going with
boys and allows them to touch her, cuddle her, and embrace her without
inhibitions. She aspires so much but surrenders easily, allowing others to
decide every dawn of her life. I feel she is fortunate to have met Sid, whom
she calls annoying and intolerable. To me, she appears like the nightingale in
Vikram Seth's famous poem 'The Frog and the Nightingale'. She performs with
great panache on stage but her talent hardly makes her confident otherwise. I
will not call it characterization-glitch but, I feel sorry for her.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: purple;">‘EVERGLOW’ is a brilliant read for the lovers of music and
literature.</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: blue;">'EVERGLOW' CAN BE BOUGHT.</span><span style="color: purple;">..</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.in/Everglow-Romance-Nandita-Bose/dp/9353335515/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=everglow&qid=1564294479&s=gateway&sr=8-1"><span style="color: magenta;">https://www.amazon.in/Everglow-Romance-Nandita-Bose</span></a></div>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-83559973818224112372019-04-08T18:37:00.000-07:002019-04-08T23:18:08.335-07:00NATIONAL WAR MEMORIAL- A SHRINE FOR ALL OF US<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>NATIONAL WAR MEMORIAL- A SHRINE</b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #4bacc6; mso-themecolor: accent5;">“The National War Memorial has
been built to commemorate the sacrifice of soldiers who died for the country”
-NDTV<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #4bacc6; mso-themecolor: accent5;">BUT, CAN WE REALLY COMMEMORATE A
SACRIFICE? CAN WE?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>My daughter has appeared for her tenth
class exams this year. She was working hard for last three months and when her
exams were over on 29<sup>th</sup> of March, she urged for an outing. I was
curious to visit the National War Memorial myself since the Prime Minister had
inaugurated the War Museum.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<b style="text-align: left;">We did some shopping at Chandni Chowk and
had tired ourselves. However, we didn’t bow to our exhausted bodies. I
deliberately drove as slow as Delhi traffic could allow so that we could relax
and revive in the air-conditioned ambience of our car. We reached the India
Gate at 2:45 and after walking about 300 meters reached the entrance of the
monument which I think, is the greatest tribute by the government to its armed
forces since the independence.</b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>As we reached the canopy after crossing the
India Gate, we saw a square 'PARAM YODHA STHAL'. We decided to see it later as we're curious to visit the main structure.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: #674ea7;">The War memorial has been designed and
conceptualised by WeBe Design Lab, Chennai. And, they have done a remarkable
job indeed. This would remain the most prestigious and satisfying of all the
assignments they would accomplish. They deserve a salute.</span><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>As we saw the three words ‘NATIONAL WAR
MEMORIAL’ engraved in bold letters on the not-too-high Kota stone wall, a chill
ran across our spines though we were sweating profusely.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>Spread in 40 acres, National War Memorial
draws inspiration from the '<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Chakravyuh</i>'
formation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The main structure is in the
form of four chakras (concentric circles), which signify the different values
of the armed forces. The four <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">chakras</i>
have been christened as <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB">1.</span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Amar
Chakra</i> (Circle of Mortality) comprising of the stone obelisk and the
eternal flame.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB">2.</span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Veerta
Chakra</i> (Circle of Bravery) is about the six battles our armed forces
fought and has been depicted in bronze. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB">3.</span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tyag
Chakra</i> (Circle of Sacrifice) holds the names of battle causalities.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB">4.</span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rakshak
Chakra</i> (Circle of Protection) is the outermost tier comprising of 695
trees symbolising the guarding soldiers.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #e46c0a; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #E46C0A; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;">I will not use the
word Martyr because an Army officer friend educated me that a soldier is always
a warrior and never a martyr.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>The split walled-segments of the spiral
contain the names of warriors (10 names in each column) on rectangular brown
tablets with golden ink. Saunter across the sixteen walls slowly and read as
many as possible out of 25,942 names that you and I might have never heard of
but we do owe gratitude to. Read the rank, the service number, the name and
imagine the tricolour clad soul of a smiling soldier who obliged death and died
to make his life invaluable. Curse yourself if you do not hear him say, “I
sacrificed my life for you. Did you deserve it?”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>The thoughtful positioning of a smart board
where one can search the name of the warrior if he wants to, impressed me. A
gentleman tried searching his name. I didn't want to mock his ignorance but did
speak to myself, "On this board, no one can search his own name. Dude,
only others can search you here."<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>As we walk down the innermost arena, we
reach the nearest to the 15.5-metre-high obelisk at the centre that has an
eternal flame at its bottom and four around it. A soldier stands facing it.
Watch him for a few minutes and you would know of the metal that makes a
soldier. </b></span></div>
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<b>The circular coliseum has a roofed path all along its circumference. Another
soldier has to stand to prevent the selfie-seeking people from reaching the
obelisk- An unnecessary exertion because we Indians are more passionate about
self-approbation than our soldiers are for the motherland. Six bronze murals
made by the noted sculpture Ram Sutar embellish the walls of coliseum. As we
completed the round and reached the pulchritudinous Gurkha soldiers,
comparatively shorter and with tilted hats, at the exit of the Circle of
Bravery, I stopped, shook hands with them and said, “We’re proud of you.” They
reciprocated with the true spirit of soldiers while I felt their palms were
made of steel. Seeing my emotional act some passers-by smiled sarcastically
and, in all likelihood, might have labelled me as a hypocrite.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_P-Ixl-BbupCtlowvFA-v6Zj1ThdUldmyO_F_BnP-thyphenhyphenMe46kHRM85izO2z7tV1r2Y6di2smfkPGqCw11Wog-MmzYgR1faDoxhluZY4Pg2Go1edYACo0etMY5Q2dY8IkPh3MBnruGSE/s1600/download+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_P-Ixl-BbupCtlowvFA-v6Zj1ThdUldmyO_F_BnP-thyphenhyphenMe46kHRM85izO2z7tV1r2Y6di2smfkPGqCw11Wog-MmzYgR1faDoxhluZY4Pg2Go1edYACo0etMY5Q2dY8IkPh3MBnruGSE/s400/download+%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>After walking out of the Veerta Chakra, we
found an empty bench and decided to take a short break in order to calm down
our complaining limbs. The time-off, however, was not short of action. A group
of fifteen, an elderly women, gentlemen, gentlewomen and children had immediately
appeared in a quest to entertain us. They shrieked, squeaked, yelled, sang and
slanged each other while clicking pictures in hilarious poses. Then, they sat
on the tiled margins of the flower beds. A soldier walked up and politely told
them not to sit on the flower bed walls. A noble-lady among them protested
saying ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Banaya hi kyun hai agar baith
nahin sakte to’</i> (Why have those been made if we can’t sit on them). She was
an aware citizen of a democratic state. The soldier stood quietly, smiling.
They do, even before the stone-pelters in Kashmir. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #e46c0a; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #E46C0A; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=75000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent6; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;">PARAM YODHA STHAL
lies adjacent to the main memorial. It is a befitting tribute to the valour of
the twenty-one PARAMVIR CHAKRA Awardees. The bronze busts dedicated to the
twenty-one bravest men along with the plaques citing the stories of their
bravery in both Hindi and English, amidst the lush green lawns and paved
pathways is a stunning place. When I walked into the gallantry gallery, the
lights had been switched on and made the premises even more beautiful. Heroism
has its own aura but the PARAM YODHA STHAL emanates heroism that inspires you
to emulate. The mesmerising stories of these extraordinary soldiers reiterate
that guns and ammunition are mere toys and their glory lies in the hands which
hold them.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>The place has been lavishly adorned with
beautiful flowers, fountains and meticulously installed lights for appeasement
of the eyes. You would always come across people who walk into the War Memorial
with ignorance or ingratitude that incapacitate them to understand the purpose
and sentiments behind this sacred monument. No, it’s not the patriot or
nationalist in me but, if soldiers have to stand to check our conduct at a
monument constructed to pay homage to our soldiers; I am compelled to write so.
Please don’t go there to trouble them. Spare them at this place.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #c0504d; mso-themecolor: accent2;">For some of us, ‘The War Memorial’ is a picnic spot. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>The departure from India Gate brought me
yet another joy. We stopped to buy roasted corn. A teenage girl and an
adolescent boy were assisting the middle-age hawker. When I was about to walk
ahead after paying them and requesting for another coat of lemon and salt, the
boy said, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Aap kya sena ya police mein
hain, sir.”<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>(Sir, are you from army or police?)<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>Before replying him, I looked at my wife
and kids, smiling smugly. They were as amused as I was.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Nhin
bhai. Kash aisa hota. Lekin aapne aisa bolkar dil khush kar diya”</i> I patted
his back and walked off with inflated chest.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>(I wish I was. But, brother, saying so,
you’ve made my day) <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>We returned home humbled yet happy and
contended. I urge everyone to visit NATIONAL WAR MEMORIAL with your family. I
promise you won’t regret. And guys, there is no ticket. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxnCgRv_9AwDQUKWvZhs0ppUYdmHuz_hgaCFusbcpRTXhyphenhyphenDf5yi0Wi6_XKN_ewCiCTsIyE_V48Y6vaKSZfSRYiV4CoVpsGOHt6yk1BcJeofE730sNhktZzFFOZkfBqXPl4QhovGCYAq8/s1600/56970912_469215463616995_7913227615085789184_n+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="540" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxnCgRv_9AwDQUKWvZhs0ppUYdmHuz_hgaCFusbcpRTXhyphenhyphenDf5yi0Wi6_XKN_ewCiCTsIyE_V48Y6vaKSZfSRYiV4CoVpsGOHt6yk1BcJeofE730sNhktZzFFOZkfBqXPl4QhovGCYAq8/s400/56970912_469215463616995_7913227615085789184_n+%25281%2529.jpg" width="300" /></a></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b>#NationalWarMemorial #ArmedForces #War #Soldiers #IndianArmy #IndianAirForce #IndianNavy #IndiaGate #Delhi #Tourists </b></span></div>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-43264414712039462672019-02-28T22:49:00.000-08:002019-03-01T01:28:48.961-08:00WAR IS AN EXPENSIVE BARGAIN TO ELIMINATE A CHEAP ENEMY<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>WAR IS AN EXPENSIVE BARGAIN TO ELIMINATE A CHEAP ENEMY</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Last fifteen days were like an action movie on a patriotic theme. So
much happened from 14 Feb, the unfortunate day when an insane terror group
carried out the barbaric suicidal attack on CRPF Jawans until the eagerly
awaited 1 Mar when an Indian Air Force pilot in the captivity of Pakistan will
be released. Like every Indian, I too, am anxiously waiting for the moment when
Wing Commander Abhinandan will walk across the Wagah Border. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Right after the Pulwama attack, the humanity seemed to have divided
into two segments: The Warmongers and the We-Are-Against-The-War brigade. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The last fortnight has seen so much of action in form of incidental
jingoism and spirited opinions: Instinctive, reflexive, borrowed, mature and
immature, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Political and apolitical, Religious and non-religious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The modernised fourth pillar of democracy, the Media has been the
worst contributor in aggravating the situation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The herd of menopausal, retired and now unemployed defence
personnel, giving useless analysis on television and throwing out the secrets
of armed forces like alms to all and sundry just to brag. The residual spirit of soldier in these so-called defence experts
does not mind being ridiculed and insulted when they are interrupted by the
rude anchors. Often, they are so pumped up that one grows curious to have a
glimpse of their service record and what significant they had done when they
donned the uniform. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">India's plight is terrorism sponsored by Pakistan. However, our belligerent
neighbour always remains in constant denial of it. I am not against war if it
is the only possible way to demolish the infrastructure of terrorism in
Pakistan but the fact is, we already have had fought four. Did the things
change? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Over the time, our economy, our army, and our stature as a country
have grown to an enviable height for our neighbours. We are strong enough to
eradicate the roots of terrorism without a war. If we are a country with 70%
literacy rate, we must reflect it. We are not like the nations which enter
into war with just any country that refuses them favours. We have earned that
reputation of being humble despite being powerful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Pakistan is near doom surmounting debt and almost no foreign reserves. A
country with 80% population below poverty line and a terrible literacy rate
resorting to unfair means is digging their own grave. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">A country is an abstract noun defined by geography and demography and is
given life by the people inhabit therein. Pakistan as a country hates
India as a country and vice-versa and the onus of this hatred lies on the
script writers of the division to create Pakistan. Neither can we change history
nor we can reverse the division. If you don't believe me check the social media
where people from both sides spit venom forgetting that on these social
platforms, they are not individuals but, they represent their country.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The locals who caught the Indian Air Force Wing Commander exhibited the
same hatred by beating him and by shooting on his leg. Wing Commander's batmen
might be better of those rustic Pakistani villagers. Also, the same villagers
lynched their own pilot who later succumbed to the injuries caused by them.
Hatred couldn’t identify their own warrior. That's what illiteracy and
religious fanaticism can do. As is the current state of the two countries,
those locals represent Pakistan and the Wing Commander represents India. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I heard someone saying that we should thank them for not killing our
pilot and only injured him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Yes indeed. But, their intention behind keeping him alive was to torture
him brutally to satisfy their hatred.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Terrorism is an idea, a doctrine, a disease which cannot be killed by
escalation even if you intend to wipe off the entire population.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Khalistani terrorism in Punjab and LTTE of Sri Lanka are the two
examples that have been eliminated by sheer determination. We should
immediately change our policy of appeasement and partiality towards Kashmir.
The controversial article 370 and article 35 A must have been abolished soon
after the exodus of Kahmiri Pundits who were in majority in Kashmir. We need to
act sternly against JkLF as we are determined to act against the terror groups
on the other side of LOC. The support of our own people is a must more than
anything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We are doing fine and let us not mar the wheel of progress by indulging
into a war. War should never be the first option and for a powerful country, it
ought not to be the only way out. That’s what being powerful should mean. The
surgical strike in 2016 <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and the recently
executed air strike corroborates that we can eliminate terrorists without
harming the civil establishments.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The views expressed
are personal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2102255359449082817.post-3554976491429948082018-07-18T21:54:00.000-07:002018-07-19T02:22:55.403-07:00A Tracker and the Heart Stealer by Rajeev Pundir<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBzEw8of4lM-TOx4sudCwpQfha1Yexz_j41nVjIeTJvW2kSw7DZ3lHiPOjNRni2CMhu74SgndzlrT29Lg48rXru1eRXFBmDx0qodPqVXweqXP59ryTYHIdDV655tzBapSTpXFTcBD2Bg/s1600/41fuG8hrgrL._SX306_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="308" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBzEw8of4lM-TOx4sudCwpQfha1Yexz_j41nVjIeTJvW2kSw7DZ3lHiPOjNRni2CMhu74SgndzlrT29Lg48rXru1eRXFBmDx0qodPqVXweqXP59ryTYHIdDV655tzBapSTpXFTcBD2Bg/s320/41fuG8hrgrL._SX306_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="197" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidehWaslyBXkV_QIO7FBoUfF5O9H1SqwG7Dedu0EI-LxyJ1EZP4gLm5reYbRVLYwj5Chm1HB9AP4NlQ3NajQh6z0B9iSXFipkrRKKwGvW9e_1_X0trzTt1CsvHG4JhQbYc78o9YYUC674/s1600/41fuG8hrgrL._SX306_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><b style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><span lang="EN" style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">A Tracker</span></span></b><span lang="EN" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;"><b>and</b></span><b><span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;"> the
Heart Stealer</span></b></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 27.6px;">By</span></b><b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> Rajeev Pundir</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Whether he liked it or not, a writer should not pass a review on the works
of another writer. However, Dr Pundir is a dear
friend and has insisted me to give a feedback on his novel "The Tracker and the
Heart Stealer". </span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></b><b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">This is a repeat of plot by the author after his first book which was also based on the
distrust and suspicion in husband-wife relationship. Though, this time, there
are more twists and turns.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I have read the previous book on the same plot. Dr Pundir understands the complexities of all sort of relationships especially the one, most of us find enigmatic- the man-woman relationship. He always impresses me when he expresses the POV of a woman.</span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 27.6px;">Reading this, I had a feeling that a short story has been stretched into a novel. The first half is too slow and I battled hard to go through it while the second half was so fast paced that I sensed the author was in a hurry to end it. The second half could have been better.</span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Author’s age and experience of life reflects in the pieces that describe the
atmosphere of protagonist’s home. The conversation and behaviour of a workaholic husband
with his wife who is craving for his time and attention and the conduct of the two little
girls respectively with their father and mother seems very authentic.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The character of Brijesh, the protagonist, could not impress me. He dreams
to climb up the ranks but he lacks the qualities of a top cop. Going to fifth
floor by stairs tires him and he is too dumb that he was easily fooled by a
treacherous woman. Threatening calls from the betting syndicate make him
shiver. The protagonist as a top cop lacks the power to perform physically,
mentally, and emotionally. His ways were highly unbecoming of even a Policeman;
forget an inspector or an ACP. I don’t know if the author has deliberately portrayed
him that way but, his qualities are nowhere in sync with what he aspires for. A decorated Police Officer should not have given up as easily as the protagonist. He could not earn my </span></b><b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">sympathy.</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The few a</span></b><b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">nalogies made me smile while reading…</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“</span><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Woman and a creeper are alike. They
climb whenever and wherever they find even the weakest support”</span><o:p></o:p></i></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></i></span></b></div>
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<b><i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">"Whatever
you give, nature gives you back multiplied….”</span></span></i></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">The story gives a message that it is important to strike a balance between your professional and personal life. Your family has a right on your time. Doom is inevitable when your ambitions outgrow your sense of responsibility towards your family.</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 24px;"><b>An e</b></span></span><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 24px;">njoyable read. Best wi</b></span><b style="color: #20124d; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 24px;">shes to Dr Pundir for his future writing projects. I know, his best is yet to come.</b></div>
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Gaurav Sharma Lakhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04762388514454409865noreply@blogger.com1