The Journey Home

Author and Illustrator: Frann Preston-Gannon
Ages: 3+ years

The author of this story happens to be the only person from UK who has won the prestigious "Sendak Fellowship" and worked on this book while staying with the author himself during the fellowship program. The book is so neatly written and illustrated so splendidly that it is hard to believe that this is the author's first picture book, although she has illustrated for Walker books, Burt's Bees etc before.

The world as we knew it has since deteriorated. The world as we know it is being devastated by us even as I am writing this. I sometimes wonder if all this pollution and deforestation could ever do anything at all to Earth which has borne testimony to life and endurance since its genesis. One giant wave, one rapid solar flare, one meteor blaze and all the plastics in the world would vanish into thin air. And before long, life forms would start establishing themselves afresh. To quote one of my most favourite lines by Dr Malcolm from Jurassic Park, " Life will find a way".

But that does not in any way justify what Man is doing to his co-inhabitants- how he is unethically, unlawfully, inhumanely destroying their homes, their food and the creatures themselves. It is nothing but pure horror story. If this is what is the survival of the fittest, then I am ashamed to survive.

In this wonderfully penetrating book, the author handles just this very issue, but in such a simple way that children could understand. It certainly is a book that parents should read out to kids or read with them, because it opens up so many avenues for discussions and would hopefully linger inside the children long enough for them to decide on acting upon issues in any way they could ( walk more and use car less, reduce plastic bags, plant trees, recycle properly and be sensitive to nature. After all, as my DS2 said, we are 100% natural, but 100% acting against nature!).

The story opens with the Polar bear sitting on a tiny iceberg wondering where the ice had all gone, because its food had also disappeared with the ice. So he is forced to swim away, and finds a lone boat and climbs into it. Soon, he swims by a city of machines and sky scrapers and finds a lone Panda there. He is certainly the odd thing out in a concrete jungle with no bamboo shoots to eat, so he joins the polar bear.

As they float on into what was once a jungle before deforestation but now just tree stubs, they spot an Orang-utan looking so lost as there aren't any more trees to climb on. They invite his to join the boat and they all sail along. Very soon they spot an elephant who is hiding behind a boulder from poachers trying to steal his tusks. He joins the boat gang as well.

Then the boat sails into a storm and drifts very far away form their homes. The animals think of their homes and miss them so terribly. They feel completely lost until they sight a Dodo in a tiny tropical island. They tell the Dodo that they want to go back home. The wise Dodo says that that is very much possible "when the trees grow back and when the ice returns and when the cities stop getting bigger and bigger and hunting stops".

And when the Polar bear questions when that would be, Dodo just says " I don't know, let's see what tomorrow brings".

And there is the beautiful picture of those animals huddled together and looking at a lovely sunset.

All through the story, the animals never stop to admire nature - the gulls, the fish, the clouds and the sunset. It gives  you a feeling that they are really connected and completely blend into nature, unlike Man.

The illustrations have a hint of Eric Carle's tissue paper creatures. They are simple, but emote remarkably, a bit disturbingly as they seem to question our conscience so much. In all, this is a perfect bed-time cuddle book with a strong message.

The journey home. Perilous but Possible. If only...

Tea Break - Rooibos

... otherwise known as Red Bush tea, grown in Africa. Works as a natural remedy for asthma, colic, allergies, skin problems, gout and PMS symptoms. Caffeine free, so aids sleep as well.

I realized I haven't been blogging so much in the last few weeks. I have been making Hay while the sun was NOT shining! When I say hay, I am actually talking about my nemesis - Hay day, the ipad/iphone game that is truly the craziest, most addictive game I have played so far. If you are one of the lucky few who haven't really come across the same, I request you to skip this post and continue your blissful existence. And for the rest, let's make some more hay!

It all started off with my sister suggesting the game to me. I thought it was just another one of those endless games that kids play on the iphone/ipad and wasn't really interested. But because it was my dear little sis who recommended it, I casually asked my DH ( dear husband) to download the free game and check it out. And then I totally forgot about it and busied myself with the mundane. If only I had stayed that way :o(

Realizing the house had been unusually quiet for hours, I went into the bedroom and saw the DH huddled with DS1( dear first son) and DS2(dear second son), all of them talking farmer tongue -  "Dad, Milk the cows", " Oh no! the barn is too full, sell some stuff, Dad", " there's a school order that needs bread, harvest the carrots and sow more wheat". Apparently, they had been doing it for at least 4 hours, while all along I had been cleaning, then cleaning and after that, cleaning. I erupted with a force that was next only to Eyjafjallajökull's (no I don't know the spelling, I wiki-ed it), grounded all of them just like the volcano grounded the flights and gave a long sermon to DH about "setting a good example for the growing boys and rationing internet time". The house continued to be quiet, but now it was the usual quiet, the aftermath of the eruption :o) :o) :o).

Now I am a big fan of "Aunty Acid" and particularly her saying " I go to bed wide awake and wake up extremely sleepy". So when I was lying in my bed that night wide awake, I ended up picking the iPad to see what the bonkers that application was about.

"Hmmm... easy  to play, cute farm there. But not a good arrangement of the fields, lemme just change it".
"I see, oh, silly boys, they should have upgraded the barn to a bigger storage, lemme just earn some money and buy the things needed for that".
"Perhaps I should jussssst up one level to get those new kind of crops, they seem to be there in all the orders"
"Diamonds for achievements, eh. Well I'll prove who I am!".

"Just one harvest and I'm off".

"Just this sale".

"Only this last order".

"Last ever hunt for treasure boxes".

"Teeny peek to see if some farmer needs a hand".

"Never playing again for the next 10... nanoseconds".

And it never stopped at all. If I weren't milking cows in my dreams, I was shearing sheep or counting diamonds. I became a loonier-than-thou loony. Not even the smug smiles on the boys' faces would make me stop playing. Slowly, it became a family-run farm. DH would walk out from meetings to check if I had "harvested". DS1 would order me on phone( while walking to and from school) not to waste diamonds on useless decorating stuff. DS2 would just ask, "Did you do anything other than Hay Day"?.

It was official. We were hit badly by the Hay Day pandemic. We were losing it up there. Week after week, we were walking, talking, breathing the game.

All until the sun really started shining. It is amazing what sunlight can do to your gloomy, couch-warming self! The boys have been out all day these days, they don't bother about hay, it is all outdoor play. To become more presentable when the coats go off, I've put myself into my own correction facility to shake off those fluffy bits and bobs added during winter ( which is so very easier said than done if you LOVE chocolate. Or cake. Or Toffee swirl ice cream with toffee bits and honey coated pecan. With hot Jamuns. STOP!!!). DH is simply too harassed by office to think of anything. And I've promised myself to get back to blogging more.

But if you are thinking that the farm is now neglected and dead, that is where you would be wrong. Nobody really knows who has been tending to it, as nobody catches anybody playing, but somebody always ensures the jobs are completed. My guess is that it is everybody :o)

 

Private and Confidential

Author: Marion Ripley
Illustrator: Colin Backhouse
Ages: 5+ years

Children are always intrigued by anything and everything that is prohibited to them. If I ever say to my little one " Never open Dad's draw, he has some really important documents in there", I can be 100% sure he is going to get a sneak peek at the earliest available opportunity. Not take anything from it, not even touch the contents, just take that forbidden peek. Was it the negative suggestion ( DO NOT DO IT!), was it the thrill of breaking the rule or was it simply innocent inquisitiveness, I have no idea.

On the other hand, have you ever tried even touching the little ones' diaries, journals or cereal boxes that have been sealed with miles of cello tape dangerously criss-crossed? Anything private and confidential to them MUST never even be looked at from a long distance And if you ever break that rule even by mistake, you pay a dear price indeed. (And if it happens to be your PMS day, well, you'll have my hugs and sympathies galore!).

My son picked this book up exactly because he loved the title - Private and Confidential. Like Dad's draw! What we did not expect was the thought-provoking story with a learning inside.

The girl in the story, ten year old Laura, gets a bit upset when a "private and confidential" letter comes for her mum by the post. Even her brother gets his own letter and she longs to get a letter in her name as well. By chance, her teacher at school says he has some interested children in Australia who would love to be pen-pals.

Laura wants a girl with similar interests, but instead gets to be pals with a boy, Malcolm. They write to each other and exchange photos. But after her reply, Laura never gets another letter from Malcolm. Just when she was beginning to wonder if he didn't like her picture, she receives a letter from Malcolm's sister explaining that Malcolm has to have his eye operated as he is almost blind. And that she was the one who'd read her letters to Malcolm, as Malcolm could only read Braille.

When Laura sits deeply saddened by the fact that Malcolm never told her this in the first place, her Dad tells her that Malcolm had just wanted to make friends, have happy talks and perhaps would have told her later. And he asks her how this would make any difference at all if he is her friend.

Very soon, Laura gets a letter from Malcolm in Braille ( The book actually has the Braille letter inside that you can feel and read) and is so overjoyed! And when he brother asks what it is about, she comments that it is "private and confidential"!!

What a beautiful way to introduce a sensitive topic! We took so much time figuring out the letter and my little boy was so overwhelmed by the difficulty. He instantly commented "But how is Malcolm not sad about it at all, why did he not tell Laura he had a problem or he couldn't read!". We re-read what Dad told Laura about it, and I thought it was such a beautiful discussion on how he doesn't think of it as a disability and does not want to project it so.

Malcolm never brings out any negativity regarding his condition. He is very positive and outgoing and it is a trait all of us could do with. Laura never feels sorry for Malcolm, but instead, starts writing to him in Braille. That is the beauty of friendship. And the beauty of children. They simply are full of love and understanding, pure and fresh. They take things by face value, never look up or look down, and when guided rightly, never discriminate. All that happens right after we "adult"erate them with our thoughts and actions.

Again, this is one of the stories that are going to be woven into our talks and discussions for a long time to come.

Private and Confidential. A moving story with a positive note. The Braille letter is an added touch of genius.

Solo

Author and Illustrator: Paul Geraghty
Ages: 4+

When you look at the book you might almost mistake it for an educational one about life in the Antarctic. With original photographs. That is how vivid and detailed the pictures and the story look.

Solo is a very beautifully illustrated book about the life of an Emperor penguin family and its struggle for survival in an almost uninhabitable corner of the Earth. Mum Floe, after being back from the sea,  finds her soulmate Fin and gives birth to Solo - still inside the egg, and then makes it back to sea to travel hundreds of miles to get food for her yet-to-be-born chick. Daddy Fin then gets ready for the toughest ordeal of going without food for months together and huddling close with the penguins in the rookery to keep himself and the newly hatched chick Solo warm. And alive.

After what seems like ages, Floe returns and takes charge of Solo while Fin finally gets his chance to venture out to sea and have some food and get some for Solo. But time moves on and while other daddies return, there is no sign of Fin. Floe realizes she must leave Solo alone and go herself to get some food, or Solo would starve away. She makes that toughest decision of leaving Solo alone and toboggans off to sea, wary of the leopard seals that are ready to make her a meal, should she be any less careful.

Left to its own self, Solo becomes an easy catch to all the mother penguins that have lost their chick as they tug at her quite violently to adopt her as their own. Solo somehow manages to escape their clutches, only  to be pinned down by the Skua, a scavenger bird that preys on penguin chicks that stray from the rookery. Just when the skua is about to nip Solo's belly off, Fin makes his heroic entry and lunges at the Skua and chases it away. Then you see what had taken so long for Fin to get back - he had gotten himself entangled in a net, and had somehow escaped, dragging the net along. A while later Floe is back as well, and the family has a very happy reunion.

Solo brought back memories of the Emperor Penguin documentary by Sir David Attenborough. Very beautiful ones, you can watch them here:
 Daddy penguins in the rookery
Return of mummy penguins
Leopard Seal hunting out Emperor penguins

This book proved to be a great topic for discussion, both scientific and sentimental and is definitely a very good read about life in the Antarctic, survival instinct and the extreme endurance of the animal kingdom and the continuous threat that humans impose on these magnificent beings.

Solo. A beautiful tale of love and endurance.

Why Does Ear Wax taste so gross... and more top trivia!

Author : Mitchell Symons
Ages: 6+

About 6 years back, my elder son came inside the kitchen asking me for a bottle quarter filled with water. He then asked for a spoonful of all the spices in the kitchen, some coriander, yogurt, flour, rice, lentils, oil, my perfume, baby shampoo, shaving foam, crushed ginger and finally some acrylic paint. He then disappeared for about an hour, then came back and asked me to save his "special magic potion" in the kitchen window sill, and I obliged. Every time I glanced at it, mum instinct would kick me with a vengeance, but I was too busy to give it a thought. Eventually after 4 or 5 days, the kicks became too much to bear and I summoned my boy and asked him what was so special about the potion. My instinct had been spot on, he could find "no cat urine to go into the potion", so he wee-d into it and that I should "never worry, the magic would still work fine"! :oO!!

Some things never change with time. Some boys never change at all!

Recently, I discovered there is such a genre of books called "grossology".  Very aptly named, because these books can't quote more grosser facts! Like the one suggested in the title of this book...  Why does ear wax taste so gross.

While I was wondering who in the world would ever want to taste THAT, I overheard my boys ( standing in front of this book in the library) comparing the intricate effects that this thing and a very particular other thing had on their taste buds :o{ ...
and went gagging away :oC ...
only to find the book right beside their bedside table that night :o\.

I agree. My culinary delights are anything but delightful, but I had never ever ever ever expected my boys to resort to eating such appalling stuff! I should really try to cook more interesting things to eat. Or probably make my usual cooking look gross enough to interest them :o)

And just when I was wondering if this was a faulty gene-of-this-generation running in my family, I stumbled upon this mumsnet discussion about house rules. One of the mum had quoted " don't sit on your sibling and fart", and I realized I am not the lone mum with DSs obsessed and extremely "inquisitive and creative" with their output. :o)

Anyway, coming down to the book: this is not really the book of general knowledge or the quiz book that would get you prizes, but it is certainly something the kids will enjoy reading again and again. Some facts in the book aren't quite the useful stuff  - knowing that a rat can swim 72 hours non-stop isn't going to get you a degree. But it is a bit of info nevertheless, and little curious brains ( of boys, in particular) seem to relish such trivia. It also has loads of facts about body functions(!), inventions, famous people, films, history, geography. languages and just about anything.

I liked reading the bits about what kids wrote in English, history, science exams. Totally funny. Like this one:  "John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met." LOL! And " She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs" !!

And quite soon it dawned on me that I had read the book back-to-back without even realizing it :o)

I still decided against practically experimenting on the title, though!

Tea Break - Just plain

Aaaaah... That hot cup of solace from a lone stall on a bleak, shivering day. No posh tea could beat That!

March came rolling in with double digit temperatures, and the daffs in the garden just started playing Peepo! with me, but oh no! Jealous Snow Queen turns up again to punish me with icicles and howling snow! :o(

February and March always have their share of special days. I am not quite sure if I buy into the concept of celebrating "days". I must be the worst memory chip ever designed, you know, the ones that get almost discarded but then sold off on a seconds sale. I forget my own birthday / wedding anniversary etc leave alone remember those of others! I have had instances of my cousins calling to wish me and me asking them what the occasion was!

Anyway, I was meaning all the Valentine's day, Father's day, Mother's day and all similar ones. I like the idea of putting a smile on the faces of someone who means so much to you, but I am not at all for the commercial aspect of it. It is okay that they might be the bread and butter of Hallmark and Moonpig and what-not card companies, but these cards, they are such spoilsports! Even if some of them are really very beautiful and bring out just the perfect feeling, I must admit!

Personally, I rather prefer the home-made ones, the odd paint blobs and finger smudges included. They show someone really took the time. Someone thought about you and broke their back to do something to make you smile. I love that very much. These days we try to make our own cards for all occasions. ( hehe particularly after my little boy started having parties at the rate of 2 per month, each jointly for 3 or 4 kids. In their class, everybody gives parties to everybody!)

I used to be against all these "days" thing. Particularly Mother's day. I would think - why celebrate your mother on just that day, she should be celebrated every single day. That was a very young, very strong and confident ME talking, I think. Because after all these years of being mum to two typhoons,and not being "celebrated" at all, I am beginning to have second thoughts.

I wonder how many people still follow the basic tradition of Mothering Sunday - to go to their mother Church with their family and pray, a holiday to be with their mother and other members of family and do family activities. For the time-pressed, gadget obsessed generation of today, it has become a very easy way out - just get a card, a bunch of flowers, some slippers or pyjamas or girly things and that's all done! Who cares what Mum really wants, am done with the job.

At home, this year was a sweet surprise. As ever, my boys came to me asking what I wanted for Mother's day. I told them I wanted the usual - cuddles and kisses for me and cards and letters for their Grannies. The boys went one step ahead. They made Tea for me ( they sure know how to please Mum and get away with treats!), made breakfast as well, hoovered the house, put the rubbish out, and to top it all, made some delicious toffee for me all by themselves ( they said the recipe was from a book I got for them. They even wanted to make the lunch, but my motherly inner-self's warning intercepted just in time and saved the kitchen from the imminent threat!!) That was the best treat, the best gift I had ever received! I was so overjoyed and that moment I realized - all mums could certainly do with some attention and pampering. Even if it is for just one day, it is a very wonderful way to feel loved, to smile at those genuine attempts made by your little ones to make you feel special.

 

How many times in a day do we take Mums for granted! As if that is not enough, we even idolize Mums and make so many quotes about her faultless, selfless, ever-smiling love, sacrifice etc and make them feel immensely under pressure to be all that they are meant to be as per those poems and verses. I mean of course a Mum is all of that quite naturally, but darn it, she is also a woman by herself - someone with anger, resentment, disappointments, hard choices, fallible, sometimes wanting to be selfish, sometimes with a little ego and sometimes wanting to be so far away from everyone, as well! The most cruel thing you could do to a mother is to pile all those quotes of highest, almost impossible expectations on her, thereby making any normal and sane mother feel like a failure. If a mother is to be idolized, it is not because she spreads love beyond all such human negativities, but despite all of it.

For it takes a strong-willed mother to raise beyond all those feelings and emotions and still love their family like mad. Despite being ignored, despite being taken for granted, despite being angered, depressed, forever tired, deprived of their dreams or with innumerable changes to all their life-plans. That, only a mother could do.

And for that, even if it is hugely inadequate, a day of celebration is only befitting.

If only children understood that in the whole world, despite all their military rules, mothers are the easiest to please. All it takes is just a call, a hug,  a few hours of patient listening, a day off from the drudging routine and some kind words.

And perhaps a cup of steaming hot tea - just plain!

 

The Giving Tree

Author and Illustrator: Shel Silverstein
Ages: age no bar!

Caution : Tear Jerker ( for adults, kids are a whole lot braver!)

When my dear sister reminded me of Shel Silverstein's works, I ended up getting a couple of his books from the library. The books were adored by the boys. This book, though, is... I just don't know, I really have no words to describe it. I only had my tears bearing testimony to the beauty of this book.

Once there was an apple tree who loved a little boy. The boy played with the tree, ate the apples, gathered leaves and made crowns, swung in her branches and slept underneath when he was tired. He loved the tree very much. And the tree was happy.

Soon, the boy grew into adolescence and his visits to the tree became less frequent. And when he did come, the tree was overjoyed and asked him to come and play on its branches again. The boy said that he was too big to play and that he wanted loads of money to succeed in life. The tree said that she had no money, but he could take her apples and sell them and make money. The boy did just that. And the tree was happy.

A long time of absence, and then the boy came again. The tree's happiness knew no bounds and she again asked him to play and rest with her. But the boy said that he was too busy for that, and that he badly wanted a house for his wife and children, so he could keep them safe. The tree said it had no house, but the boy could take her branches and build a house for himself. The boy did so, and the tree was happy.

And a really long time later, the boy ( who is no longer a boy, but an old man) came again, rather sad. This time when the ecstatic tree asked him to play, he said that he was so tired and sad and wanted to go far far away and needed a boat. The tree offered her trunk for the boat and the boy took the same. The tree was happy, but not very much. She missed the boy, maybe she couldn't bear to see him so sad. Now she was just a barren stump.

Finally, haggard and really old, the boy came again. The tree apologized and told him she had nothing to give. The boy ( now a really old, hunched man) said he only wanted a place to rest. The tree said that her stump was just the place and asked the boy to sit there. The boy did so.

And the tree was happy.

My sister said that after reading this, her little boy commented that "even when you lose everything friends ( like the tree) will be there for you. And the tree was foolish to give away everything, it should have been smarter and the boy was greedy... he kept taking and taking from the tree". These, I thought, were really lovely interpretations made by a wee child!

My elder son had just one thing to say, " Why, that selfish brat of a boy!". But it hit a more sensitive note with my little one. He felt so sad that the tree was reduced to a stump, and kept saying it was a sad story. So I pointed out to him the really, really special part of the story - The tree was happy.

Loving memories, hurt, guilt, unconditional love, revelations, security... the feelings that the story evokes are all so raw, so deep.

For me, it is a testimony to the love of my parents, my in-laws. It is all about that magical gift of being able to give unconditionally. It is such a blissful state that is unfazed by the lack of reciprocation. It only cares about giving. With all the heart, with all the body, as much as possible, as long as possible. Whatever it takes to keep the little one happy. If this is not love in its purest form, if this is not a realized state, then what else could be!

It also reminds me of children. Us as children, and our children. Somehow, parents are the ones who push them to extremes, hammering down the importance of succeeding, of money, fame. And then the children simply go ahead in pursuit of it all, get so absorbed in it, ignore what is important - or who is important, get worn down and tired and finally, realize the whole picture.

If only the realization happens when the stump is still there, waiting...

I am gifted to have experienced the giving tree.

I wish I were the giving tree to loved ones.

I leave the remaining interpretation to the readers.

Here is an online version of the book.

The Giving Tree. Gift it. Receive it. Cherish it.