Cabuliwallah – A Masterpiece from Tagore

Revisiting Kabuliwala….

Perceptions

Rabindranath Tagore won the Nobel prize for li... Rabindranath Tagore won the Nobel prize for literature. It is the first Nobel prize won by Asia. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Cabuliwallah 

~ Rabindranath Tagore 

Note: I am sure most of us would have read this, at some point in life, but a second reading after we have understood parenthood, is really worth it. Hope you agree after reading this work from the great Tagore of yore….. This post is for my global readers, who may have missed reading this….Sunith

The Cabuliwallah in Rabindranath Tagore’s unmistakable style.

My five-year-old daughter Mini cannot live without chattering. I really believe that in all her life she has not wasted a minute in silence. Her mother is often vexed at this, and would like to stop her prattle, but I would not. For Mini to be quiet is unnatural, and I cannot bear it long. And so my own talk with her is…

View original post 2,942 more words

The Lost Child

The Indian novelist Mulk Raj Anand was arguably the greatest exponent of Indian writing in English, whose literary output was infused with a political commitment that conveyed the lives of India’s poor in a realistic and sympathetic manner. Anand was pivotal to internationalising the experience of Indian writers to the outside world and he helped to bring an international dimension to the progressive writers’ movement in India. He is brilliant at satirising the bigotries and orthodoxies of his times, but his novels also celebrate the spirit of human rebellion which embodies all his central characters. His works were inspired and informed by the lives of real people in unglamorous situations. In addition his writings demonstrate a keen desire for political change and social transformation that remained with him throughout his life.

Perceptions

A good one from a great author – Mulk Raj Anand

The Lost Child  (Mulk Raj Anand)
It was the festival of spring. From the wintry shades of narrow lanes and alleys emerged a gaily clad humanity. Some walked, some rode on horses, others sat, being carried in bamboo and bullock carts. One little boy ran between his father’s legs, brimming over with life and laughter. “Come, child, come,” called his parents, as he lagged behind, fascinated by the toys in the shops that lined the way.

He hurried towards his parents, his feet obedient to their call, his eyes still lingering on the receding toys. As he came to where they had stopped to wait for him, he could not suppress the desire of his heart, even though he well knew the old, cold stare of refusal in their eyes. “I want that toy,” he pleaded. His father looked…

View original post 1,300 more words