Quotidian Tales

Embark on a Heartfelt Journey with Katana, the Labradoodle: A Tale of Resilience, Belonging, and Enduring Love "K atana Gets a Family ," written by Ashley Christine and Maggy Williams , is an adorable children's storybook delineating the journey of Katana, a charming Labradoodle pup. It offers a poignant narrative of resilience, love, and acceptance. With tender warmth, the story unveils Katana's initial return by a family due to his unique quirks, only to be embraced wholeheartedly by another family who cherishes him with unwavering love and compassion. The story eloquently underscores the intrinsic significance of familial belonging and the enduring impact of empathy and love. Click HERE to buy the book Enhanced by captivating illustrations, this narrative presents itself as an endearing and immersive experience for our young readers. The story of Katana positively impacts the tender minds of y...

Each page in this book effortlessly embodies an endearing wish from a grandmom's heart. 'W hat I Hope for You' by Jennifer Bonn is a heartwarming book that captures the world of joy and blessings a grandmother desires for her grandkids. The book further weaves in the happiness by manifesting vibrant illustrations by Bijan Samaddar. Many of us might not have our grandparents with us anymore, but this book takes us down memory, where we find solace in the author's words. She has numerous direct-action thoughts that set the spark in a young mind. Something like 'dream-big' tells a kid to set audacious goals and never look back. To believe in oneself and achieve! Such a wish can only come from dear grandma! Click HERE to buy the book The bond a grandmother has with her grandchildren is of abundant love, care, and everlasting hope. This book is a treasure trove of delightful memories that will warm your heart a...

Trying to find the motif in good deeds, I suddenly stumble upon this remarkable lineage that keeps me hooked on the stranger I confront. I n a small town where good deeds are accountable, I obsess about uncovering the hidden motives behind people's seemingly altruistic actions. I had become somewhat of a cynic, always searching for the ulterior motives or the hidden flaws in even the noblest gestures. One day, while waiting for the bus on my daily commute, I noticed a stranger - a woman with an air of mystery about her. She was handing out sandwiches to the homeless people who gathered at the stand, her smile genuine and her demeanor warm. As I watched her interact, I couldn't help but wonder, what was she gaining from this act of kindness? I approached her, my skepticism pricking at the back of my mind. "Excuse me," I said, "I couldn't help but notice you've been here every day, helping out. What's your story?" She turned to me wit...

That's me. A gawky girl with a head full of frizzy hair and a heart full of woolly emotions. An adolescent, in essence. I' m waiting for my school bus to arrive. Yes, I'm still left with putting on my socks and shoes but that was just a minute's job. The moment captures the one activity I did every single day before I left for school. Though I'm smiling in the pic, it was a forced one back then. Simply because I was not interested in getting myself clicked. But right now when I look at it, I feel so happy and grateful that my father had clicked us together that day. The white puppy with fiercely intelligent eyes (I know I'm being the bragging mom here!) and a really wet snout was Zen. I called him by that name the day he came into life. Of course, I can boast about the Zen philosophy here and put in some profound thinking that was behind the dog's dubbing. But no, nothing of that sort happened. Rather, a car called Maruti Zen had been...

I read about humanity and wanted to share it with you T oday, walking by the road, I saw a white note in a plastic bag. It was hanging from the lamppost. I went by the lamppost and read the words. It said, "I have lost a 50 dollar bill around somewhere here. If you find it, please can you return it to me." And then below it was an address. I went to that address and found a very old and feeble lady resting on the front porch. Hearing my rustle, she called out, "who is there?" I quickly went forward and told her I came to return her 50-dollar bill that I found by the lamppost. She instantly burst into tears and said that at least twenty other people had come to give her back the money and even so when she hadn't written the note on the lamppost. I insisted that she keep the $50 bill from me. She genuinely thanked me and brought me a glass of water from inside. When I was about to leave, she, in turn, requested that I tear up the note on the lamppo...

The indefatigable human spirit can conquer any opponent. You just need to believe in it. S he is my Mummy. She is a Mummy to many more. She is not my biological mother. And that makes the relationship beautiful and unique. She is a cancer warrior. She knows that cancer will defeat her soon. Any day, any moment. But until that moment comes, she will fight it with dignity and grace. Looking at her medical condition, I feel even breath has fallen in love with her. And just wants to keep her alive. It's indeed difficult to defeat someone with so much love and positivity. She is alive, throbbing and thrusting. Embracing every minute with the intensity of conquering it. And everything she does is nothing short of a celebration. Be it her love for nature or her desire to dance in the rain. Seriously, she becomes a kid when she sees the skies open up! She gets drenched to the bones whenever she gets a chance to do so. I vividly remember how I had pulled her leg on her s...

Every child is special. Do we have the heart to feel it? T hese days my 9-year old seems to be obsessed with Ninjas. She loves to watch their movies, read about them and even use the primary karate moves (picked up from weekly lessons in school) to emulate them. Last night as she was intensely watching an animated Ninja episode, she blurted out a phrase. Without any conscious effort, it caught my attention. ‘Ninjas never quit!’ As I moved out of the room and into the verandah to take off my daughter’s uniform from the clothesline, my eyes fell upon the ‘Niketan’. The school-cum-residential that stands just across the street. It is a home in which, not one, two or even a few children live. It is one which accommodates 150 - 200 children. They live there, not with their parents or relatives but under the supervision of caregivers and special educators. Though they are like us and our children, they are often referred to as ‘special’. Apparently, they have physical, mental ...

Making a craft with your child is a meaningful way to engage him...and much more... I t is always difficult to spend quality time with your kid. I make sure, I never miss one such possibility. I usually take up a tiny project with my son every month. I plan it so as to distribute the activity almost through each day of the month. This allotted task gives us a new topic to discuss and work on, together. My takeaway. The happiness and enthusiasm that fills the tender one during the conversations that go along with the creation. My son was actively involved at every step… his ardent love for this simple craft (that) filled me with a sense of accomplishment. Our May project was to fill a glass jar (a long-forgotten gift from an old friend). How should we fill it was the main challenge the two of us faced. A two-day long rigorous discussion followed. It looked like a professional team doing a much-needed requirements analysis prior to a project. Of course, it was mellowed dow...

Reward yourself as a parent. Happiness begins with you. I t was an unusually busy day. Working on a gruelling assignment, I was engrossed in the editing process of the photographs. It had to be furnished to the client the following day. A rather pesky nudge distracted me. I turned around to notice my 7-year-old (but threatening to pose as a grown-up) daughter standing right next to me. She was beaming as she broke out the headlines of her day, “I have something for you.” Seconds seemed an eternity to the little one as she struggled with time to divulge the surprise she had in store for me. Hurriedly, she took out a notebook from her school bag. Deftly flipping through a few pages, she halted only when she arrived at the one, the one that was meant for me. It was not a school exercise or some graded sheet. It did not boast of her exceptional performance or clamoured for my attention and appreciation. It was just a few words, randomly chosen by her to express an emotion that...