Friday, 10 November 2017

Babul Mora Naihar Chuto Hi Jaye


(This article was published in the February 2018 issue of Confluence, a UK magazine).

Two days back I read about the demise of the last descendant of the Nawab of Avadh. It transported me to 2009 when the seed of my novel, The World Beyond had just been planted in my mind. I had spent many a day that year, walking amongst the ruins of Lucknow. I would close my eyes and imagine what it must have looked like, 150 years ago - when the corridors of the Bara Imambara were covered with lush carpets, when the Parikhana resounded with the sound of music and ghungroos and when Alambagh, Sikander Bagh and Charbagh were actually beautiful baghs and gardens and not the concrete jungle that they are today.

LUCKNOW. The capital of Avadh. The city of Nawabs. The land of impeccable manners. The place that has been mentioned in the annals of history as one of the wealthiest and most prosperous cities in the world.


If you could go back in time to 1855, when the kingdom of Avadh was at the height of its glory and prosperity, I'd tell you to go to Lucknow and look at its skyline during sunset. You would notice the white palaces and mosques, bedecked with golden minarets, domes and cupolas, appear flushed and pink, as the sun set slowly behind them. Like a virgin bride, blushing in all her bridal finery. Such was the beauty of Lucknow. Historians the world over had hailed it as one of the most beautiful cities in the world, even more beautiful than Rome, Paris or Constantinople.

NAWAB WAJID ALI SHAH. The last ruler of the kingdom of Avadh and well-loved by his people. A connoisseur of music, dance, theatre and literature. A king who has often been wrongly portrayed and misunderstood. He was one of the few rulers who celebrated festivals like Holi and Muharram with equal fervour.

He was a great poet and an equally good dancer, musician, composer and choreographer. Music ran in his blood. He established the Parikhana, which is the modern equivalent of the theatre. He brought Kathak out of the confines of temples and gave it the respect it deserved. He wrote over a hundred books, many of which were destroyed after the uprising of 1857.

The city of Lucknow thrived under his rule. At a time when the Mughal court was on the decline, poets and artisans flocked to Nawab Wajid Ali Shah's court, as it had become the cultural  hub of the country.


Not many of us know that the famous song, Babul Mora Naihar Chuto Jaye was written by Wajid Ali Shah, when he had to leave his beloved Lucknow, after the wrongful annexation of his kingdom by the East India Company. The English were afraid that his deposition might spark a revolt and insisted he leave in the quiet of the night. They did the same later, with Bahadur Shah Zafar, the last Mughul emperor of India.

A heart-broken Wajid Ali Shah, wrote these lines as he left the city that he so loved, never to return:

Babul mora naihar chuto hi jaye
Char kahar mil mori doliya sajave
Mora apna begana chuto jaye.
(O father, I’m leaving my home behind,
four men have gathered to lift my palanquin.
My near and dear ones will soon become strangers,
my home unreachable…)

These lines were later immortalised by K.L. Saigal who sang them in the Bollywood movie, Street Singer. The song became so popular, it used to be sung at most Indian weddings.


Above is the picture of KAISERBAGH PALACE, in 1855, where Nawab Wajid Ali Shah used to live with his family.


This is the picture of the Western gateway of Kaiserbagh Palace. This is how it looked about 150 years ago. Notice the intricately sculpted mermaids and fishes.

This is how it looks today. This gateway, as well as the Eastern gateway are ALL that remain of the magnificent palace of the last king of Avadh.


Look at it again. Carefully. Notice how it is being vandalised. Does it not make you sad, angry even, that something of such historical importance, is being vandalised in this manner?


Let's take a look at another picture. This is a mermaid at the bottom of the gateway. See how people have been spitting betel juice on it relentlessly. I'm sure if these people were aware of the importance of this mermaid or the gateway, they would think twice before spitting on it.

Here’s what Rosie Llewellyn-Jones, a writer and an authority on Lucknow, says about the palace - “The Kaiserbagh… has been undergoing demolition in a piecemeal fashion…It is undoubtedly one of the most remarkable palace complexes ever erected and had it not been especially singled out for destruction by the vengeful British and later neglected by the people of Lucknow it would have become one of the most celebrated structures in India." 

Our country has a rich cultural heritage. There were over 92 palaces in Lucknow in 1855. In 1858, just three years later, after the Uprising of 1857, only 12 remained. Some were destroyed during the uprising. The others were bulldozed and razed to the ground as retribution by the British. Now, only a handful remain. The rulers of yore did their bit in destroying our heritage. We have done our bit. Let's take pride and better care of the little that remains, before it is too late.

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The World Beyond

Sunday, 30 July 2017

Tum Gao Hazaron Saal...


Hello me dears. LADIES and GENTLEMEN... SONU and SONUHOLICS... 

Are we ready to party? To boogie woogie? Alright, let's roll in Sonu's birthday with some party games. What say? And don't forget to scroll down to participate in the ULTIMATE game - HICHKI with HANSA 😜

 GAME 1 - ANTAKSHARI:

SONU, this game is for you. Aapko fatafat inn saari parodies ke original songs guess karne hein. Ready? The time starts now...

Shayeza Mughal:


Yeh sangeet aap ke dum se hai
Yeh sangeet aap ke dum se hai
Aap legend,Aap legend Aap legend
Qasam se hain
Moi pouchey k wo angels kese hain
Main keh doon k wo SN jese hain...
At the end
Sab qeemti gift laae magar tohfa muhabbat ka laae hoon main
I wish u happy happy birthday happy happy birthday to u🎂

Vadlapudi Latha:

Tera rang balle balle
Tera roop balle balle
Teri awaaz balle balle
Tere gaane balle balle
Dekha tujhe toh mai teri fan hogai
Tere khaiyalon mein mera dil kho gaya.

Tu jiye hazaroon Saal
Happy Birthday Day to you Sonu.

Deepali Sharma:


Duniya bhula k
Tumse mila hu.
NIkli h dil se ye dua...
Happy Birthday Sonu da
Fans k dil se ye dua...
Happy Birthday Sonu da
Ha Nikli h dil se ye dua...

Happy Birthday Sonu da.

Sonali Bhattacharjya:

Mera dil chahe, Sonu ji ko jitnaa...
Na kisiko chaha maine itna...
Dhadkano mein Sonu hai Samaaye...
Bin Sonu ji k jiyaa nehi jaaye...

SONALI loves SONU 😍
Sonali loves her Angel a loooot.

Ravi Kait:



Tere ranga vich rangan lagga kyun
Dil mera dil mangan lagga kyun
Ho... tenu pta na mainu khabar
Puchdi rehndi meri nazar
Happy Birthday aa...
Happy Birthday aa...
Sonu soyi janda ae...
Rab jaane ki hoi janda ae...
Rab jaane ki hoi janda ae...

Omkar Vaman:

Hai apna dil toh Sonuji ka Fan,
Kisi aur pe yey na aayega,
Gayaki pe unki hi dhadka hai,
Kisi aur ke... ye na Dhadkega.

Suron se bhari awaaz, Hai saalon bhar ka riyaaz,
Aur Sonuji ka andaaz, toh sabse judaa.
Yey iss yug ke hai Sur Samrat,
Koi aur na ho payega.

Hai apna dil toh Sonuji ka Fan,
Kisi aur pe yey na aayega,
Gayaki pe unki hi dhadka hai,

Kisi aur ke... ye na Dhadkega.

Priyadarshini Bhattacharyya:



You are so haseen so haseen so haseen Sonuji
Aap mere dil ,mere dil, mere dil di rab sonuji
You are so haseen so haseen so haseen Sonuji

Ab main bechain ho gayi 
Aap ta ea fan ho gayi
Apke mukhre te mardi hein
Aapko main bhagwan maan gayi
Karlo aap yakeen sonuji
Happy wala Happy wala Happy wala Birthday Sonuji

Poornima Malindi Ranaweera:


Aaine ke saamne main hoon sochti
Kya hota... jo Sonu hote yahaan
Sonu ko roj saj sawarte mai dekhti
Sach hota... khwabon ka jahaan
Khwabon ka jahan
Rahe Sonu sada
Mai mazze mein hoon
Na jagun na na...
Cutie Sonu hamara
Sunke gaana unka
Mai mazze mein hoon
Na jagun na na...

Sonia Chopra: 



Sonu mera maahi sonu
Aur nahi koi hona sonu
Hadd se zyada tera naam leti hoon
Happy birthday to you
Love you my dear Sonu

Sonia Sonu ji lagta hai ek naam
Sonuji
Tujhko salaam Sonuji.

Falak Gurreeban:

Ye chand sa roshan chehra
Awaaz bara sunehra
Ye meethi meethi baatein
Koi raaz hain in mein gehra
Tareef karoun kya ouski
Jisne tumhe banaya

Ek cheez kayamat bhi hain
Logon se suna karte the
Tumhe sun ke mein ne maana
Wo theek kahan karte the - 2
Har sur mein hain teri zaalim
Kuch aisi bala ka jadu
Sau baar sambhala dil ko
Par ho ke raha bekabu....

Baar Baar sunlo, Hazar Baar sunlo,
Ke sunne wali Cheez Hai Hamara Dilruba,
Taali Ho......
Haan Ji Haan, Aur Bhi Honge Singer Yahan,
Lakhon Music Wale Yahan,
Par Yeh Baat Kahaan,...
Yeh-Bemisaal-Sur-Lajawab-Ye-Taal,
Taali Ho.. ....

 Zannat Shanta: 



Suchita Panda:

Sonu paas aaye, 
Yun muskuraye, 
Unhone na jaane kya, 
Sapne dikhaaye, 
Ab to mera dil, 
Na jaage na sota hai, 
Kya karun haya, 
Sonu dil churaata hai.

Debolina Banerjee: 



Humko Sonu se pyaar hay kese kahu 
Yeh dil beqar hai Kese kahu 
khayalon mein har pal Sonu ko hi dekhti hu sanam 
tumpe fida hai diwangi Sonu ka hai hum. ...

Is qadar pyaar hay Sonu se hay humsafar, 
ab to jeete hai hum bas tumhe dekh kar 
tumhara har ada tumhara har nazar 
yeh kya hone lagi mujhe Sonu ko hay kya khbar...

Sari duniyame sabko kehna hay, 
Ek corerme humari sonuji hay, 
Sari umar hume sonusir apka hi fan rahna hay. ....

Saanso ki jarurat hai jyse
Saanso ki jarurat hai jyse 
Mere ye dil ke liye 
Bus Sonu ji ka gana chaiye ...

Mere dil ke liye....

Zahra Noor:

Aate rahenge singers,
Jaate rahenge singers,
Dil ki nazar se, Sonu ko suno,
Sonu ki aawaaz sabse haseen hai.

Aastha Shreyasonuholic:


(Edited by Debolina Banerjee)

Hanste rahe aap hanste rahe
Birthday yunhi manate rahe
Birthday cake kaat kar aap
Sabko yunhi khilate rahe

Hansti rahe tu hansti rahe
Haya ki laali khilti rahe.

Aap wo phool ho jo gulshan mein nahin khilte,
Par jis pe aasmaan ke farishte bhi fakr hai karte,
Aap ki zindagi hadd se zyada kimti hai,
Janam din aap hamesha mnaye yu hi hanste hanste.
Janamdin Mubarak.

Bonu Ragam:

Tumko paya hai to jindgi Milli
Jeene ki umang phir se hai khili
kisi bhi roop mei
Ho chhaav dhoop mei
Ke tumko ye najar, yu dekhti rahe
Mai agar kahu, Sonu ji jaisa 
Hai nhi koi , jahaan mei insaan
ke maanta hu Mai ,unko apna khuda
Tumko paya hai to jindgi Mili..........

Ab mjhe Raat din, unhi ke aate sapney hai
Mere Na hote hue, wo mere apne hai
Wo mere apne hai,
Unhi ke aate sapney hai,
Woohoo hooo hooo AAA haaahaaaa
La la la hmmm hmmmm
Meri ye jindgi, tere kadmo mei hai
Tu meri Dil,dhadkan aur najro mei hai
Tujhko Mai dekhu, Gale se laga Lu

Ya fir najar mei tumko chhupa Lu......

Rittu Bar:



Maine poocha Lataji se,
Ki dekha hai kaheen,
Sonu sa gayak haseen?
Lataji ne kana,
Maushiki ki kasam,
Nahin nahin nahin.

Maine yeh duniya saari dhundi
Har jageh gayak tujhsa dhoonda
Shahad se mithaas teri poochi
Chaasni mein mithaas tera dhoonda.

Maine poocha Lataji se,
Amreeka ho ya Cheen,
Aisa gayak hai kaheen?
Lataji ne kaha
Maushiki ki kasam, 
Nahin nahin nahin.


Many many happy returns of the day my cute sa sweet sa handsm musical magician cutipie lots of love and respect to u.  Suvo jonmodin 😊😊😊😊❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

SonuNigamphilic Parijat:

Sur nikalte hein jahaan se
Dil phisalta hai jahaan pe
Ehsaas chhupti hai jahan pe
Khabar yeh aayi hai wahaan se 
Koyi tumsa nahin
O koyi tumsa nahin.

Happy birthday to you, my god allah & bhagwaan.
lots of love and respects...

Ankita Guha: 


Birthday hai unka (crazy dil mera) 
Jo hai angel hamara (crazy hai Tera) 
We are all so happy (main mazze mein hoon) 
And feeling lucky (na jaga na na) 
Sonu ji... (crazy dil) 
Sonu ji... (crazy dil) 
We love you..u..u...  (crazy did...il..il)

Suman Dey: 

Sonu ji Satya Hai....
Sonu Ji Sundar....
Sonu Ji Sonu Ji Sabke Ander.
Happy Birthday Sonuji.

Radiyah Ryssa G Ibrahim:


Dil yeh tumse lagaya
Pyar tum pe hain aaya
Nazerein mujse milake
Sonu ne dil ko Churaya 
Falling in luv wid u Baby 
Is as easy as a b c.

Yeh din sabse pyara
Kyunki tumpe hain aaya
Aa a b c sabse cutie or bhi sweet
Dekhia na koyi tere jaisa
hain sara jahan
Aa a b c...

Ye rang laye meri mannatein,
Puri ho teri sabhi hasratein, 
Saare jahan ki khushi ho teri,
Ab to yehi aarzoo hai meri, 

I wish u happy happy birthday 
happy birthday 
happy happy birthday to uuuuuuU
I wish u happy happy birthday 
happy birthday happy happy birthday 
oh my daRling....  SonuuuuuuU.... I ❤️ U!

Anshika Kumari:



GAME 2 - HICHKI WITH HANSA:

This game is for SONUHOLICS. So Sonuholics, you guys are Sonu's fans, right? Are you sure? Toh ho jaye aajmaish? Are you ready? Then answer the following questions -

1. When you notice Sonu is online:
  • Your fingers freeze and you can no longer type. 
  • You post something random and stupid, hoping to get his angootha.
  • You start singing dhak-dhak karne laga, Madhuri Dixit style 😉
  • You tag him 150 times.
2. Which word or phrase, when uttered by Sonu, makes your heart skip a beat? For me it's "haaiii," and "jai ho." 😍

3. What was the colour of Sonu's shirt when Hansa met him? 😛  What are the 3 little words that Hansa is most fond of? What did you say? I love You? Nah! Guess again.

4. Rapid Fire:
  • Sonu's songs or Sonu's live performance?
  • Which is more - Sonu ke fans ya Sonu ke baal?
  • Which is sweeter - Sonu's voice or Sonu himself?
5. And now the final question, that will prove whether you're a true Sonuholic or not - ever since Sonu made his first appearance on TV in Sa Re Ga Ma, how many hairstyles has he had? Socho... socho... count karo...

Arre... meri parody toh reh hi gai...

Hansa: 

Tohfe sametke, apne Sonu se,
Dekho fans chale milne...



Dikhi hari batti, mach gai hulchul
Facebook saara, laga hilne...

Hai timeline pe,
Shubh kamnayen hazar.
Sonu ko online dekh,
Daale status baar-baar.
Yun lehrai, wifi ne li angdhai,
Lage fans ke chehre khilne...

Sonuholics se batiyake, Sonu se milke,
Dekho Hansa chali sone.

Once again, wishing you a very very very Happy Birthday Sonu. Tum gao hazaron saal, yey meri dili khawaish hai. Hope you enjoyed this virtual party. Have a fantastic year ahead. God bless you always :)

A big thank you to our talented artist, Shayeza Mughal for her awesome creation and to all the Sonuholics for their wonderful parodies and pictures.

Good night guys. Shubh Ratri. Shabba Khair.

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Thursday, 6 July 2017

Klose 2 My Soul... When Reality Surpasses Your Dreams


Concert ke tickets kab khareede,
Kitne ke khareede,
Yaad nahin.
Par show ka teen maheene, ek din aur satrah ghante
Besabri se intezaar karna,
Achhe se yaad hai 😉


April ke woh syahi din,
Jab Sonuholics mayus ho gaye the,
Tab apneaap ko samjhaya -
Har toofani raat ke baad,
Ek sunhari subah aati hai.
Shayad 2nd July ki baat kar rahi thi?

(Photo Courtesy: Suchita Panda)

2nd July jaise-jaise kareeb aane laga,
Neend utni hi ojhal hone lagi.
1st ko shayad sirf ek ghante soi?
Yaad nahin.
Par 2nd ki subah chinta karna -
Inn poached eggs samaan aankhon se
Sonu ka deedar kaise karungi?
Thoda bahut yaad hai.


Show kab shuru hua, kab khatam hua,
Pata hi nahin chala.
Haan, ek adhuri aas chod gaya -
Kaash waqt tham jaata...
Yey concert kabhi khatam na hota.

(Photo Courtesy: Suchita Panda)

Aankhein kab nam ho gai,
Kab kaajal phail gaya,
Yaad nahin.
Par Zindagi ka Safar ke bol mein,
Chupi unn siskiyon ki goonj,
Aaj bhi dil ki gehrai mein sunai de rahi hai.


(Zindagi ka Safar - sung by Sonu at O2 Arena, London, 2017)

Jab Sonu se milne ki baari aai,
Tab dhadkan ka tej ho jaana,
Nervousness se galla sookh jaana,
Yaad nahin.
Par unka yey kehna - "finally we meet,"
Aur mere hosh udd jaana,
Bakhoobi yaad hai.

(Photo Courtesy: Suchita Panda)

Maine kya kiya,
Kya kaha,
Yaad nahin.
Par unki jhappi,
Unka muskurana,
Unki ek-ek ada,
Ta umar yaad rahegi.


RELATED POSTS:



Ek Anokhi Mauke ki Dastak

Quick translation for those who don't understand Hindi:

I don't remember when I bought the concert tickets or for how much.
But I remember only too well that I waited for the show for exactly 3 months, 1 day and 17 hours.

Those dark days in April when Sonuholics felt hopeless, I told myself that after the storm of the night, comes the quiet of the dawn. Perhaps I was thinking about 2nd July?

The nearer the D-day came, the less I slept. I don't exactly remember, but I think I slept just 1 hour on the 1st. But I remember clearly that I was horrified when I saw my eyes looking like poached eggs the next day.

I don't remember when the show started and when it ended. But I remember wishing time had stood still and the concert had gone on forever.

I can't remember when my eyes became moist and my eye liner got smudged. But the echo of the sobs hidden between the lyrics of the song - zindagi ka safar, is still reverberating in the depths of my heart.

I don't remember if my heartbeats hastened or my mouth went dry due to nervousness, when it was time to meet him. But I remember only too well, that I lost all my senses when he said - "finally we meet."

As to what I did or said, I don't remember. But his hug, his smile, his every single nuance and gesture, I will remember for the rest of my life.


Keep smiling friends. Keep ROFLing. Life is Beautiful 😀

Monday, 23 January 2017

To Marry or Not to Marry... a BONG


My tango with Bengalis starts when I'm 3. Both our next door neighbours are Bongs. The moment I smell fish, which is everyday of course, I climb over the fence, toddle straight into the neighbour's kitchen, watch the fish being cooked and come back home only after I've stuffed myself. My poor mother does not eat cakes and pastries to this day as they contain eggs. But for my sake, she learns to cook fish.

The tango culminates in my falling in love and marrying a Bong. My initiation into the Bengali community starts in the train itself, en route to my sasuraal. "If you want to impress a Bong guy," I'm taught by my wicked sisters-in-law, "just say to him - tumhi ekto boka chele." ... For a long time I think Bong guys are weird. I mean, who gives a girl a dirty look when she's paying him a compliment?


Then comes the wedding night. My younger bua saas informs me she's a doctor and I'm most welcome to consult her about family planning. My cheeks turn crimson. I come from a strict orthodox family in UP, where I'm just short of calling my dad "Sir." This openness is alien for me and leaves me aghast.

Not to be outdone, the older bua saas asks me the next morning - "Kaho, kaisi rahi? Success?" I turn a deep shade of magenta.

Wait, there's more. At breakfast, my husband's nephew gives me a red rose and proclaims I'm his first crush. Mind you, he's not a kid. He's around sixteen and a good few inches taller than me. I now look like a beetroot. I turn to my husband for help. He's busy gorging on luchi and paati saapta, unruffled by his nephew's confession. I point to the rose and gesticulate - what do I do? He says "Aww," stops eating for a minute and takes a picture of Bhatija, Biwi aur Gulab.



Time for bahu bhaat. I'm summoned to the kitchen by the elders and asked what I can cook. "I think I can boil eggs," I reply. Then add thoughtfully, "Do you need to stir the eggs or just let them boil on their own?" The elders look at each other and then at my mother-in-law with pity.  She averts her gaze and pretends not to have heard a word.

The elders tell me they'll take care of the meal, all I need to do is dress up as a nai naveli dulhan. It takes four sisters-in-law to wrap a sari around me. Now all that needs to be done, is the hair. I take out a side parting. Hubby dearest, who has no experience of these things, empties almost half the box of sindoor on my maang. So now I have a side parting covered in red, as thick and long as the red carpet at the Oscars.

Anyhow, the sari miraculously doesn't unravel and I'm served this huge thali of chappan bhog. GULP. It weighs more than all of my 35 kgs. And right in the centre of the plate is this huge fish head, with the eyes completely intact. A shiver runs down my spine as the cold dead accusing eye stares at me. Even today, whenever I try to cook or eat fish, those eyes haunt me and condemn me for murdering their brethren.


Thankfully the festivities are soon over and all of us settle down in our new roles. My father-in-law, who had been the toughest opponent to our wedding, is now my strongest supporter. There's something that puzzles me though. Every now and then he calls out - "Bauma... bauma." And every time he does that, I look around and wonder why this Bauma never answers. It takes me a good few days to figure out that he's actually calling me.

As I was saying, not only my father-in-law, but even my husband's girlfriend starts warming up to me. She stops barking every time he puts his arms around me and even lets me go into his room once in a while.

And so, life goes on, and so do the bloopers. The other day I inform my in-laws that we had shasuri for lunch. I'm supposed to say chechki. My father-in-law hoots with laughter. My mother-in-law, however, is not amused.

Issshhh... I know I've muddled my way into marrying a family that is mad, meddling, melodramatic but extremely passionate and has showered me with so much warmth, love and apnapan, that I wouldn't have it any other way.

Maike ki kabhi na yaad aai,
Sasuraal mein itna pyaar mila. 


Keep smiling friends. Keep ROFLing. Life is Beautiful :)

Saturday, 7 January 2017

From Cradle to Grave and Back


On the 7th of January 2007, I found myself seated between Shri Kapil Sibal, who was then the Union Minister of Communications and Information Technology and my publisher, the owner of A. H. Wheeler and Co., for the launch of my first book, Letters to my Baby


Letters to my Baby is a collection of approximately 85 letters, written by a fictional mother to her unborn child, from the 6th week of pregnancy, right up to the baby's first birthday.  Weaved into the letters is invaluable advice for women embarking on the journey called Motherhood. The book was received quite well by critics and readers alike and kickstarted my writing career. 

However, a year or two later, shortly after the second edition of the book had been published, disaster struck. 

Some of you might remember, ten years back, all the bookshops in the railway stations in India were called Wheeler and Co. Yes, that's right. My publishers ran all those bookshops. Unfortunately, they got embroiled in a bitter controversy with the railway ministry. 

I heard it started with the Railway Minister at the time. Apparently, he was appalled by the English name of the bookshops. "Hamre raj mein ingrezi dukaan? Kahe babua? Hatwao inko." Am not sure how much of this is true. But if it is, all I can say is, it happens only in India. 



In the meantime, totally unaware of all this, I was confident of the book doing well as a lot of positive feedback, not just from mums, but also from dads and grandparents had started pouring in. As also some good reviews in various journals and papers like Times of India, Hindustan Times, Indian Express and Dainik Bhaskar. While one review called me the baby whisperer another reviewer was reminded of the letters written by Rani Mukherjee to her daughter in the movie Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. 


This particular review, written for Women's Feature Service was picked up by at least 20 leading newspapers in the country - Decoding Difficulties... Mama Mia - Deccan Herald  

My publishers however, were not doing so well. They lost the case in Supreme Court against the Railway Ministry and had to shut down their publishing house as well as all their shops across India. 

Overnight, my book, my baby, became homeless.


I was devastated. I bought back a few hundred copies. The rest were trashed. I kept trying to find a distributor to put the books back in the market again. It wasn't easy as I live in London and Indians are notorious for not answering emails or returning calls. By the time Flipkart started in India and I struck a deal with them, it was too late. The books had started looking old and worn and I had to abandon the idea of selling them altogether.

They are still gathering dust in my parents' garage in India. Neither they, nor I, have the heart to dispose of them as raddi. It was my labour of love after all. It hadn't been easy. My daughter was just one when I started writing the book, our entire house was being renovated and I didn't even know touch typing.


LTMB - 2nd edition

Then, few months back, out of the blue, I got an email from the vice chancellor of a university in India. He had come across my book and wanted to publish it in Hindi, to be used as a text book by his university students. I was elated. 

Inshallah, things will work out better this time. And even if the translation into Hindi doesn't happen, after speaking to the VC, I feel vindicated. All these years, I've been ridiculed, made to feel responsible, guilty even, that all those copies lying in the garage are somehow my fault and a personal failure.

But if the Vice Chancellor of a University thinks Letters to my Baby is good enough to educate young minds, then that's all that matters. As for the detractors, I don't give a damn!!!




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Keep smiling friends. Keep ROFLing. Life is Beautiful :)