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Showing posts from November, 2025

A Tagore in Nainital

Sudakshina, from Chitra Deb's 'Thakurbarir Andarmahal' Earlier this month, I went to Abbotsford , a historic estate in Nainital, for the Himalayan Echoes literary festival, run by Janhavi Prasada. The festival took place on the extensive lawns of the estate, which is now run as an elegant hotel, but originally it was a family home and the place had been acquired from its British owners by Janhavi’s great grandfather Jwala Prasada and his wife, Purnima Devi, in the late 19 th century. Janhavi’s new book, Nainital Through Stories, Memories, History mentions this in its first few pages: From Nainital Through Stories I was intrigued to learn that Purnima Devi was a niece of Rabindranath Tagore. She was born (according to Wikipedia) on 13 May 1884, at No. 6, Dwarkanath Tagore's Lane, Jorasanko, Calcutta, to Hemendranath Tagore (1844–1884) of Jorasanko. Hemendranath was the older brother of Rabindranath Tagore, and son of Debendranath Tagore, founder o...

HER GRAIN OF SAND

  RAISING HARE by CHLOE DALTON, Reviewed in Biblio, October 2025   On an icy February morning during the pandemic, Chloe Dalton pulled on coat, boots and gloves, and set off for a walk – without an inkling that her entire way of being was about to be transformed. As she strolled through the fields around her home, a restored barn in the English countryside, she came to an abrupt halt: there was a tiny creature, smaller than her palm, sheltering on the ribbon of grass that ran down the centre of the rutted track. A leveret. “The word surfaced in my mind, even though I had never seen a baby hare before”. She left it there, not wishing to interfere, but when she saw it immobile in the same spot four hours later, she knew she could not abandon it to die.   Published last year to great acclaim, Raising Hare shows how caring for an animal can unmake and remake us. In ‘Auguries of Innocence’, William Blake, seeing the world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wildflower, ...
  Towards the end of the Mahabharata, the five Pandavas and Draupadi renounce their kingdom, wear clothes of bark and begin the arduous walk to Mount Meru. Only the most righteous gain heaven, and this is their goal. During their long walk, a stray dog tags along, as strays tend to do. One by one, each of the Pandavas drops dead because each has a flaw that makes them unfit for heaven. Only Yudhishthira, son of Dharma, reaches the gates of Heaven — with the dog. They are met by Indra, who welcomes Yudhishthira in, but tells him to leave the dog behind: “Dogs disrupt sacrifices and offerings, make them impure. You abandoned your wife and brothers on the journey. Now abandon the dog!” To this, Yudhishthira says he would rather give up heaven than a loyal friend: “This dog is alive and has taken refuge with me. I will not abandon one who is devoted to me. That would be a sin equal to killing a woman... READ THE COMPLETE ARTICLE HERE