Posts from the family category.
Somedays, I used to ask my father to draw something for me. And he used to. At least, that’s how I remember it . Or, it’s highly likely he might have chosen to try his hand in drawing himself. I don't remember to the point now, but he did draw for sure pretty enthusiastically.When in school, I loved drawing, sketching, painting. The dining table would turn into my art studio, with brushes, pencils...
I launched my first book at 44My daughter launched hers at 11 — published by Pais Friends Library, Dombivli.And somewhere between those two milestones, I discovered that sometimes children don’t just follow our footsteps… they show us new paths.That revelation came to me through The Day I Stopped Watching Reels, the debut story by my daughter, Vira Gudhate. When she handed me the manuscript, I exp...
Meera sat in the seat next to the porthole through which she could look outside the rocket. Everything was grey. The body of the rocket was grey, the back of the seat on which the entertainment display was mounted was grey, the body of the rocket was grey, and the Moon ahead was grey. She was also not entirely certain what she was going to do once she was on the Moon. She just knew she wanted to g...
Told my husband to prepare jira rice as I was still on my way to home. The universe just agreed with it!
I remember the first time I curled up beside my grandmother on a chilly winter evening, the aroma of simmering kahwa filling the room, as she spun tales that danced between the real and the magical. There was always a hush in the air, punctuated by the crackle of the fireplace and the occasional shiver of delight or fear. Opening Dadi, Dantkatha and the Djinns by Avanti Sopory felt like stepping b...
Sameer Gudhate Presents the Book Review of Mother Mary Comes to Me by Arundhati RoyI remember the exact moment I discovered The God of Small Things — the air sticky with monsoon humidity, the smell of old paper, the faint clatter of a train in the distance — and how the world Roy created felt impossibly alive in my hands. Until then, the Booker Prize was just a shiny emblem, a distant flag waving ...
‘Mother Mary Comes to Me’ by Arundhati Roy is one impressive memoir. An honest one, a crazy brutally honest one - about a girl (Arundhati Roy) who has spent her life watching her mother (Mary Roy). Observing her. Loving her. Not hating her. Wanting to leave her. Failing to leave her. It’s all here - every emotion rolled into one 300 pages book….Checkout this week’s book review - https://jaeeblogsc...
Some stories feel like echoes of your grandparents’ voices — warm, worn by time, and yet carrying the pulse of youth. Rising from the Roots is one such tale. It’s not just a book; it’s a living bridge between generations, where dreams meet dirt, failure meets faith, and legacy is built not by luck, but by labour.What caught my eye first wasn’t just the premise — three generations, three battles, o...
A few days ago, I wrote an article about Goddess Kali- about the divine energy women embody, the roles we play, and the constant struggles we face. I spoke of how women should be respected in very form, not just revered as goddesses in temples, but as human beings who deserves kindness, love and dignity.But what happened to me last night shook me to my core and made me question everything I though...
Every year, as the first beats of dhol echo through the streets and the air fills with the colors on celebration, Navratri arrives- not just as a festival, but as a gentle reminder of something deeply powerful: the strength of being a woman.Navratri, with its nine nights honoring the nine forms of Goddess Durga, is more than just a ritual. For many women, it mirrors the nine lives they live every ...
