life, unadulterated
to a child
'To A Child', a poem by Christopher Morley
Anitha Krishnan writes Indian-inspired fantasy fiction with a dash of mysticism and soul-searching. She lives in Burlington, Ontario with her husband and their cherished child.
life, unadulterated
'To A Child', a poem by Christopher Morley
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Every reference to my childhood mischiefs entails a recollection by my maternal aunt of how I used to grab a mug of water and proceed to wash a handkerchief in the middle of the living room of my maternal grandparents’ home, a place that no longer exists in the physical
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Oh, the simple beauty of this tale. Every reading tugs at my heart strings. The author, whose You Can Do It, Sam is another of D’s favourites, employs a simple way of comparing the heart-achingly similar lives of two neighbours - Bunny and Dog - who share a fence. The
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Holding within its pages a simple story about a little bear Sam and his mother Mrs. Bear baking cakes to deliver to their friends on Plum Street, this book fast became D’s favourite a few weeks ago. There’s a lot in this book that was already familiar territory
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Given enough time, the impossible can happen. As it did in our home last week. After flipping through the 318 pages of this book every single day, several times a day, for the past five months, giving it a status of indispensability and irreplaceability in his bedtime readings, D decided
life, unadulterated
Apparently this year, my birthdays as per the English as well as the Tamil calendars fall on the same day. Today. I must ask Mum more about this but I think it has something to do with the 19-year cycle of the moon (of which I know next to
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When D came down with the flu last month ahead of the Thanksgiving weekend, we headed to the library and returned home armed with a set of eight books. Of these, I picked up one knowing it was likely fairly above D’s reading/comprehension level but it was I
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Oh, the delights of this book! Fox’s rhymes and Oxenbury’s illustrations are nothing short of a magical concoction. In my initial readings of this book, the words that held the most allure to me were what the narrator tells her child, about him “being truly divine”. Not a
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This book was my Father’s Day gift to KrA in June 2017, shortly before D turned a year old. It is a hilarious collection of several animals’ and birds’ endeavours at coaxing their offsprings to say “Dada”. And the little ones, wise as they inherently are, preciously reply with
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I was five months pregnant when I bought the first book for my child. Time for Bed by Mem Fox and Jane Dyer. I read it aloud to my unborn child every night. In the weeks that followed, I bought a few more books. Possum Magic by Mem Fox and
life, unadulterated
Oh dear D ... my bawling baby ... you cried Mumma Mumma even as your feet willed you to walk alongside Miss LaRoche into school ... Here I am sitting in Starbucks, working on a freelance editing assignment ... it's amazing how much I can get done in a brief span of
life, unadulterated
The first two decades or so of my life were quite literally a string of first ranks and A grades and gold medals and merit certificates and awards and prizes. Anything that I failed to make a mark in (arts and crafts, for instance) was conveniently brushed aside as irrelevant