It's Only Words. And Words are All I Have.

Have you noticed just how when someone dies, nothing that anyone else says to the family/friends/loved ones, no matter how well meaning, is of any use?

Most of the time I really want to say, "This sucks donkey balls and I hope you find the strength in you to get through this horrible mess of a time." But apparently, that's not allowed, so I end up saying something lame like, "I'm sorry for your loss."As if they've misplaced their favourite pair of socks or something.

Hallmark really needs to get some new writers.

I'm not loving my job in it's current avatar. I think I'll apply.

Commandments for (Social) Life

Hear Ye, all the Facebook faithful. Read and obey:

1. Thou shalt not pepper my news feed with mundane status updates. What you had for dinner/lunch/snack time, the fact that you are now going to bed and that you've just showered are not in the least bit interesting and should not be shared with the rest of the world.

2. Some of you have decided to reproduce, that is a fine and valid choice. Do not however, inflict the hourly activities of your offspring onto the rest of the FB world. We do not care in the least that little Johnny has just done a poo, or had burped or has spit up. Updates like that make the rest of us want to spit up as well. That being said, if little Johnny or Jenny or Balthazar has done something momentous like taken a first step or shoplifted for the first time (and got away), by all mean, feel free to share.

3. If you are going to post about the weather, at least try and be creative about it. Merely stating "It's hot/cold/rainy/windy/snowing" etc. is both boring and unnecessary. I can look out my window and see for myself.

4. Using abbreviations when texting is considered acceptable, but that does not mean you can use text messaging language and terms on here. Also poor spellings and appalling grammar is inexcusable. If you don’t know how to spell something, look it up. I do. (mostly). And, replacing "s" with "z" in a word does not make you urban and cool. It makes you look like a cool, urban wannabe.

5. PDAs are bad enough. But when you clutter my feed with inane banter ‘tween you and your coochie-coo when all the while you’re sitting two feet away from him/her in the same room, THAT is more than I can tolerate. Stop it.

6. If you join a group or event that already has a pre designated purpose, kindly do not clutter their feed/wall with information or adverts for your own gain. That is just plain rude. If I wanted to know about 50% off dancing midgets for this Saturday night, I would have joined their group instead.

7. We get it. You're popular. You go out clubbing/drinking/partying a LOT. But, if almost every single photograph that you are tagged in shows you beary eyed,  with a drink in your hand and along with an equally drunken posse, then perhaps you should think about a stint at the Betty Ford clinic. Just saying.

8. If I've deleted you off my friend's list once, really, WHY would I want you back on? Quit sending me requests. It's just emphasising your neediness and making me all the more resolved not to want you in my life.

9.Just because I do not repost comments/status updates about pleas for cancer cures does not mean I am indifferent to the situation. Posting status updates for an hour about remembering lost loved ones and the likes does nothing concrete. Going out into the world and DOING something - planning a fundraiser, spending quality time with patients and their families, volunteering time towards a cause - THAT is real and valid help.

10. People who constantly moan that Facebook is silly, trivial and mundane and keep threatening to leave, but in fact are still on and judging by their updates clogging my news feed, are actually rather active users! Quit being so la-di-dah and uppity and jump in and splash around with the rest of the riff raff!  

Nothing But the Truth?

On the heels of my previous post about "whole truths", I started to wonder about expanding that concept to other parts of my life. Parents teach their kids that honesty is the best policy, and then proceed to undermine that lesson with the infusion of little white lies. Eat your vegetables or else the monster will get you, You can't watch cartoons because the TV is broken, This is not going to hurt at all. 

And why stop with just the kids? The tendency to infuse these lies into everyday living seems to increase exponentially as we grow older. Nice haircut, I can't make it, am feeling under the weather, It's not you, it's me!!

Of course, I understand full well why we all season our conversation with these wee white lies, and the consequences of everyone speaking the truth every time all the time has already been explored quite thoroughly. Still, I did wonder about the consequences of total and utter honesty in one area of life that for many is the centre of their very universe of being.

I speak of course of Facebook.

What would happen if status updates read Horny beyond belief and desperate for a shag. Or perhaps a comment on a photo that says, That's your baby? Wow, he got your husband's gigantic nose, didn't he? Or a post on a friend's wall stating, Yes, we KNOW you two are fucking cute and totally soul mates and everything. But do you have to post that on his wall? Can't you just turn to him and say it so that it doesn't show up on my newsfeed??? 

What? I'm just being HONEST! 

The Whole Truth

It struck me the other day just how much about my personal life I post on here. Although I have done my best to stick to using pseudonyms and deleting all identifiable photos and references, the veil is but paper thin and anyone with even the tiniest bit of detective skills will be able to pierce through.

Call it a new wave in personal confession, but I know that especially when I am troubled, sad, angry or upset, writing about it always seems to make me feel better. And when it comes to the happy and exciting times, I want to put it down on the blog just so that I have a reminder of the crazy, mad, wonderful things in my life that make giggle on the bad days. 

Many of my friends and even other blog buddies have cautioned me about this; told me to stick to neutral topics and leave out items of deep personal nature. But I cannot. True, that would be a better and more effective smoke screen, but it would also end up hiding so much of who I am. I'm sure "real" authors are able to do it all the time; write about versions of themselves. As I am merely a fake one (author, that is) I'm going to have to carry on with the only way I know how. With the Whole Truth. And nothing but.

And per chance I do get "found out", well, it's no biggie. There's nothing on here that's fake or made up. If someone comes looking for me, well that's just what they're going to find.

Censorship

In a world where so much is already going so very wrong; where wars and violence, famine and floods, murder and mayhem all seem to take centre stage, do people post pics of their truly ugly babies??? I understand if you have an adorable, cute, rolly polly, wee oompa loopma like kiddo; who doesn't like to see pics of that?

But if you have somehow managed to give birth to something that looks a bit like that thing that popped out of Sigourney Weaver in Alien, then WHY WHY WHY would you share that face with the rest of the world????

For anyone who is even remotely confused, let me illustrate. Bellow is an example of a cute kid.

This, on the other hand is most certainly and definitively NOT

And ok, even if you have just reproduced and produced something that looks like it supports Darwin's theory of the missing link, that's why useful programs like Paint and Photoshop were invented. Just saying.

Now, I realise that some of my readers are mums and two in particular with brand new wee men and it may be that this post unleashes the Mommy Dragon in them. Understanding that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and that parents especially see cuteness where non exist, I might come across as an ogre right now. But seriously, give us a break. Just as Picasso doesn't appeal to everyone, no matter how much the critics gush over his work, it is the same with babies. There are some of us who refuse to play along with this "all babies are cute" charade. I'm just vocalising what a lot of people are thinking. Perhaps that makes me the bad guy, but even bad guys have a right to their own opinion.

**In response to Elli's comment, I'd like to say that yes, the reason I chose the pic of the new born is to lay emphasis on my point. That no matter how thrilled you are with the little leprechaun that you've just squeezed through your vajayjay, do not share these first pics with us, the rest of the uncaring world. Give the child a few days to get over the trauma of the close encounter with your intimates, let their heads get to the normal size, let all the swelling and redness subside.... and THEN post the pics. The one's where they are about a second old should be tucked away in an album marked PARENTS ONLY. 

All I'm saying is, don't force me to share in your delusion.

The Jury is Back and We Have a Verdict

With a mere 4 days to the next fundraising event, it is all systems GO for me right now. There are calls to be made, volunteers to be rounded up, prizes/donation to be collected and about a hundred different details and loose ends to be tied up before the big night this Friday.

And of course, let's not forget the all important details - the outfit!

At the last ball, I was all set to wear boring trousers and a borrowed top when a surprise package arrived from my aunt in Canada with an evening dress inside. She'd heard about my wardrobe crisis from my mum and dispatched a dress that I had borrowed from her before. Add sheer pantyhose, a nifty bolero jacket to dress it up and strappy heels and voila, we had a elegant ensemble!

This time around, I was slightly better prepared having bought a beaded chiffon sari when I was in Bombay that I knew would be PURR-FECT for the evening. Having decided to forgo my usual strappy sandals and instead wear my brand new black peep toes, some planning was required. Accordingly, I put on a pair of thick socks and prancing around the house commenced.

Rain Main (the flatmate) chanced upon me washing up dishes in my PJs and of course the socks-and-peep-toes combination. I'm practicing was my response to his startled look. He shook his head in a "whatever" fashion and moved on.

Then yesterday, he overheard me talking to Gingersnap on the phone. I was in the middle of chopping veggies for dinner, so had her on speakerphone. The poor thing was trying (unsuccessfully) to make me comprehend the complexities of eyeshadow. You put the darker colour on first and just off to the right of the lid, and then follow through with a lighter shade that's complementary, but not totally a match and then layer that with the thingybob with the dooddad of the other colour........

It's too bloody complex, I grumbled to her, and reminded her that I didn't even OWN eyeshadow. An eye pencil and lip gloss was the extent of my makeup range! I'll just have to get you done myself was her last exasperated statement as she rang off.

Rain Main looked at me quizzically.

You don't know anything about makeup.

You need to practice wearing heels.

You don't even OWN your own dresses.

I nodded in response to each statement.

He shrugged and walked out of the kitchen, turning back for one last comment.

You really are a crap girl!

I nodded again to his retreating back.

Can you say F-U-G-L-Y?

My neighbours two doors down are a lovely congenial Sri Lankan family - Ma, Pa, 3 kids and Grandpa. They're always smiling and waving at folks who walk by. They send over sweets and delicacies to us on Hindu festivals. They are keen gardeners and in my personal experience people who are loving and nurturing gardeners, are generally loving and nurturing towards other human beings. They are quite and orderly and MOST IMPORTANTLY never hold loud rave parties. All key attributes you want in a neighbour.

The catch?

An unfortunate sense of home and garden decor. I will let the pictures speak for themselves.

Ah well, could be worse I suppose. Right?

Honesty

The Ex emailed me the other day to congratulate me on the upcoming move to Glasgow. He mentioned that he's started his own photography website as a side business and asked me to have a look. I know you have a good photographic eye and I'd like your opinion was what he said.


I took a look at the site. And then I was torn.


Was I supposed to give my opinion as a friend (wait, are we friends now? When did that happen?) or as a fellow photography enthusiast?

I chose the latter, and here's what I said:


You have a great eye for photography - that goes without saying. You are able to capture lighting and shadows to the best of your advantage and in the process capture a moment on film. Not many people have the skill to do that.

If you're motive is to photograph young ladies who all look like they're about to audition for the next issue of Sex Kitten, then fine. You're accomplishing your goal - and I'm sure they are as well.
Don't read on.

If however you are serious about photography and human subjects - you have a lot of work to do. There's nothing that distinguishes you (or your subjects for that matter) from the hoards of other "fashion" photographers out there.

Teach your subjects to showcase their talents and photogenic skills not with their wardrobe and bodies only - but with their face, their eyes, their expressions and overall body language. As a model, they should be capable of a range of emotions. Sex is a type of emotion, but there are a hundred others, and only one of the models managed to come up with a difference shot that set her apart from all the rest - and even she maxed out at 3 expressions.

Try working with an experienced shoot artist or art director to instruct the models and give the shoot a focus and a theme until you are comfortable (and experienced) enough to do both - photograph AND direct.

Watch, learn, read about other fashion photographers. I'm sure you will be able to improve your own style through their knowledge and experience. Attend workshops if you can. It will only help you gain further insight into your skills.

OK, that's my piece. Best of luck in your new endeavours.


Do you think I was giving him good advice? Or was I simply too harsh or worse - bitchy! Tell me readers - I'm agonizing right now!



*********Update*************

The Ex's email response:
Thanks for the constructive criticism. I don't get enough of it.
I agree with everything you've said. Most of this stuff is just fluff - often that's all the model wants. And, since I've been doing this, the main thing I've been concerned with has been the technical side of it, and coming up with consistent results. The most challenging part of the process is what you're talking about, and I know my work is lacking in that department. Hopefully I'll continue to improve...

*whew*
Thanks for your comments guys! Much appreciated!

Book Review - The Secret Diary of Adrain Mole; Aged 13 3/4

Recommended by Beans who said that he first read this book back when HE was around the same age as the protagonist, I found it an easy read. Written in a personal diary format, it is charming, interesting, real, funny and a very insightful look into the mind and world of a young boy on the cusp of adolescence talking about his life in a very open and downright honest format. The "Bridget Jones" of teenagers, Adrian Mole is a delightful character and I'm looking forward to reading more about him as I just found out that Sue Townsend has written a whole series of "diaries" aging Adrian from the gawky young teenager to a middle aged man.

Nite of Fun, Friends and Fashion

The ever amazing Trippy hosted her annual "Awards Nite" dinner yesterday. The actual show began at 8:30pm EST, but we were there well in advance for the red carpet extravaganza because let's face it, that's what we were most interested in. Trippy had some delish munchies to keep our tummies full, and exciting and fun filled Oscar trivia games for the commercial breaks and the boring speeches. And prizes too!! At the end of the night, Ms. Trippy was voted "Best Hostess" and richly deserving as well. (WHY is this girl still single??)


And because I cannot resist, here's my two pence:

• Best opening sequence in a long long time. Yes people, the Oscars are about MOVIES and ACTORS - not comedians with their trying-too-hard monologues.
• Best year for acceptance speeches. Personal fav, the Japanese dude winning for best short animation ended his speech with "Domo Arigato, Mister Roboto". Kate Winslet telling Meryl Streep to "suck it up" was also pretty damn funny.
• Best intro to the 4 big acting awards. It must have felt pretty damn good to be celebrated in that fashion - win or no win.
• Best presenter pairing - Steve Martin and Tina Fey. Now that's how you do a comedic presenter piece.
• Worse gown - Beyonce. It looked like someone had vomited gold all over the dress and her too plain hair and make up and utter lack of jewellery wasn't a hit either.
• Worst presenter pairing - Daniel Craig and Sarah Jessica Parker. Thank god for the teleprompter, because it was obvious that they had NOTHING to say to each other.
• Best awkward moment - cameras cutting to Angie as Jennifer Anniston and Jack Black did their thing on stage.
• Worst let down - Hugh Jackman kept his clothes on for the entire show. I want a refund.

Just in case you were under a rock and missed out on what happened with Hollywood's biggest night of the year, here's an excellent article that nicely sums it all up.

Wish this guy did some of the acceptance speeches!!

Wastage

15 year old Brandon Crisp had been missing since Thanksgiving Day (October 13) when he left home after an argument with his parents over his seeming obsession with his XBox. For more details on the story see here. Yesterday, the Ontario Provincial Police formally called off the search, after a body matching the teen's description was found in a wooded area just outside of Barrie - his hometown.

Like everyone else, I too had been following the developing story. With every passing day, the chances of finding the boy alive grew slimmer; and my anger grew bigger. I was angry with Brandon Crisp. So angry, that I wanted him to be found, and then sit him down and give him the talking-to of a lifetime. Then make sure he was grounded for the rest of puberty.

To me, what that boy did was not only basically stupid but more so supremely selfish. I cannot even imagine the anxiety that his parents and family went through while he was missing followed by the cruel pain of now knowing that even the slim hope that they had clung to for the past 3 weeks was all in vain.

I cannot imagine that they will ever be able to forgive themselves - even though they were not to blame for him taking off. They would have been called bad parents if they had not tried to curb his addiction. So, basically they were damned if they did or did not - either way.

Have they already started to turn on each other? It is well known that many marriages do not survive the trauma of the death of a child, especially accidental death. Will the other children (two girls, both younger) have to suffer the added pain and suffering of a split home over and above loosing their brother?

I do not know what Brandon Crisp was feeling in his last moments on this earth. I imagine that the days and nights he spent in the woods were not pleasant. I hope and I pray that he is now at peace. Certainly, no one else is.

Happy Bunny Thought for the Month

Book Review - The Penelopiad

Although not very familiar with the works of Atwood, I was attracted to this piece of her work because I love the book (and the myths) that the story is drawn from. Homer’s iconic poem The Odyssey is the basis for Atwood’s version of events told from the perspective of Penelope, wife of Odysseus. The book is part of the internationally acclaimed Myths Series that groups some of the finest present day writers as they provide a contemporary take on some of the oldest, most enduring stories in history.

When Odysseus went off to fight in the Trojan War, he left behind his wife Penelope and their newborn son to rule the island of Ithica. While Homer’s tale focuses on Odysseus and his trials on his journey back from the War, Atwood shifts the focus to Penelope. What was she really up to those 20 long years? Did she truly remain faithful to her king? As the narration in the book shifts from Penelope herself to the 12 maids that were cruelly executed by Odysseus on his return, Atwood opens our eyes and minds to the possibilities of what might have happened back home while the hero was away. Keeping with the ancient Greek art of storytelling, Atwood weaves this tale through prose, speech, musing, song and poetry - and even through modern day courtroom transcripts! The result is a modern day day time drama - set in ancient Greece! After all, the 20 years that the book spans is plenty of time for a soap opera run!

The Highlight Reel

Quiet Please!
Thanks to a pair of comp tickets from one of our Board members, I was able to go see my very first pro tennis match at the Rogers Cup on Wednesday. Even more exciting when I realized that I would be seeing the World Number ONE seeded player Roger Federer take on Giles Simon of France (and a total cutie as well). I found the whole tennis scene rather interesting. Normally, I'm used to the rowdy baseball stadiums where one can holler and heckle till the cows come home, and there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it (as long as you're not being profane). Here, I was almost uncomfortable with the imposed silence during the tennis match though the unnatural hush over the crowd causes a kind of electricity in the air which of course the players just feed off. Even during the most exciting rally, (of which there were a few) the tennis audience keeps their lips firmly shut taking in all of the action with the rest of their senses. I couldn't but help letting out a little squeak of excitement every now and then, much to the amusement of the fella besides me. He kept regarding me like I was this quaint little being or something.
Federer didn't win. In fact, when I came down to Match Point, half the crowd was still in shock over how the game had played out. Still, it was a great experience made even better by the fact that I didn't have to pay a cent!

Beer & Chili Fest '08

Every summer, my friend The Lady Killer and his girlfriend, Ms. Pink host a summer party. The year before it was a BBQ fest. Last year it was a luau (complete with grass skirts and coconut shell bras for some folk). This year, TLK went a little further and planned a Chili Contest coupled with a mini beer tasting event. The premise was really quite simple.

1. Anyone who wanted could make chili and enter into the Chilly Contest.

2. Folks who attended were asked to bring (at least) a 6 pack of a fairly uncommon beer.

3. Everyone would eat chili and sample beer. Merriment would follow.

The result. 4 kinds of Chili for us to feast on - The Classic. The Hot Stuff. The Turkey Chili. And, the Baconator Chili. And over 15 *new* kinds of beer for us to sample including some from as far away as Vancouver and the Scottish Isles!

Hiatus

Just found out that tonight is the last nite of WCS open dancing until September. Will miss my Westie pals, but thankfully will be able to supplement my need-to-dance with extra doses of Latin/Ballroom at Friday night dances and Sunday afternoon workshops over the next 3 weeks.

Wedding Woes

Before you jump to conclusions (I'm looking at you Jo) - not mine. Am referring to VBF's wedding that's slated for September 9 in Glasgow. It seems like this wedding has been in the planning stages since the dawn of time (well, April last year) and we're finally just a few weeks away from D Day.* I still don't have a dress - well not quite. But I figured that's OK because the bride still doesn't have her visa - without which she cannot travel back to Glasgow! In the whole scheme of things, the bride is more important than my dress. On the other hand, if the bride does get her butt to the church on time, she is going to be mighty pissed off if I'm not suitably adorned, right? And I would be VERY remiss in my Maid of Honour duties if I caused the bride to be pissed off on her wedding day. That is usually reserved for someone from the groom's side.

Book Review - The Tree Bride

Back in December, I picked up this book only because I needed one more book to get in on a 4 for $20 deal. I tucked it away in the basement and forgot all about it. Some weeks ago, a coworker who is also an avid reader – and is very interested in Indian novels and literature – happened to mention this book, and I remembered that I actually owned it. Went looking for it in the basement and spied it jammed between an Enid Blyton mystery and Jim Herriot’s Tales of a Country Vet.

Reading the book’s jacket synopsis, might lead you to believe that The Tree Bride is just another book about a person of Indian origin, now living somewhere in the US trying to figure out that fine balance between being true to where they come from and merging with where they now belong. To my surprise, it was more.

Not unlike many other Indians living abroad, Mukherjee’s protagonist Tara is searching for her roots. Her search is focused on a very interesting ancestor and her namesake; a woman who, as a young girl was married to a tree. What is unlike other such stories is that this book is not just about Tara and her quest, but also a look into one of the most interesting times in Indian history – the last days of the Raj. As the story swings between modern day San Francisco, Calcutta of the late 1800s and North Britain in the early/mid 1950s Mukherjee’s novel draws the reader into Tara’s journey of self discovery into her past and the amazing coincidence of connections that form her present life.
When researching the author, I found out that The Tree Bride is actually book two of a trilogy and having read this one I am quite eager to read more of Mukherjee's work. Most interesting would be the book that she co authored with her husband Clarke Blaise on the terrorist bombing of Air India flight 182 - The Sorrow and the Terror: The Haunting Legacy of the Air India Tragedy. Known as Canada's largest mass murder and the worst flight disaster until the September 11 attacks, the bombing of flight 182 killed all 329 passengers on board. 20 years later, families of the victims are still waiting to see justice.

Happy Bunny Thought for the Month

Tales of this City

One of my mini resolutions for 2008 was to read, explore and learn more about Toronto - my new home city. This July will make it 7 years since I moved here and although I feel that I have done my fair share of exploring and discovering, there's so much more for me to see and do. I have always loved reading fictional stories set in real places. That way, when the characters are walking down a certain street, or looking at a particular landmark or speaking of a certain well known location I can draw on my own picture and memories of that spot and to me, it gives new dept and meaning to the story and almost makes the characters that much more real. Over the past 7 years I have tried to get to know about more Canadian authors and read more of their works. Before I moved here, my knowledge of Canadian literature/fiction was limited to the works of L M Montgomery. Although brilliant in their own right, her stories are hardly representative of Canadian society as a whole and I was thirsty for more.

I first came across the brilliant and award winning author, poet and activist Austin Clarke at back in 2005 at a conference at York University. Struck by his presentation, I wanted to know more about his work. Browsing through the library I found The Toronto Trilogy the books that first launched him into the North American literary spotlight. The books follow the stories of a group of West Indian immigrants as they struggle to come to terms with the city and their new lives away from the comfort (and the warmth) of the Caribbean world.

Eager to read more his works, I next picked up The Origin of Waves - a story about a chance meeting of old friends on a cold winter's day in downtown Toronto. Although I didn't enjoy it as much as the books of the trilogy, it was still a fairly good read.

Margaret Atwood is one of Canada's most well know author in recent times who has won countless awards - both local and international - for her novels, short stories and poetry. She is quite partial to setting her characters and story lines firmly in the streets and alleyways of downtown Toronto and in one book in particular - The Edible Woman - I was thrilled when she mentions a particular bus route that I often frequent myself! Cat's Eye is another of Atwood's books also set in Toronto.

More recently, one of my colleagues loaned me her copy of Richard B. Wright's award winning novel Clara Callan. Set primarily in a small town a couple hours of Toronto, with occasional jaunts over to the city, the book is about two sisters who made very different life and career choices, but who continued to be bound by ties of blood, family and a shared past. Told through a series of letters between characters, as well as diary entries by Clara the protagonist, this book would have been almost ordinary until you stop to think that the author is male, and yet he has managed to write from the perspective of a woman with a clarity and insight into the female mind that makes me wish he could transfer that power to many more of his species! Like with The Edible Woman, there is a particular scene in the book where one of characters is describing a hotel in the downtown area and commenting on its popensity for being a "by the hour" sort of establishment. As I read those lines, I realised that I actually knew of said hotel and commented how it is has only very recently gone through some much needed renovations and is now one of the hippest spots in Queen West, much sought after for art shows and such.

Saving the best for last, my all time favourite books set in Toronto are the Vinyl Cafe Series by Stuart McLean.

The books are a series of short stories featuring the zany adventures of fictional characters Dave and his wife Morley and their children Stephanie and Sam as they amble through life in Toronto. Taken from his widely popular Sunday morning variety radio show of the same name, McLean has woven this family so much into popular Canadian culture that many find it hard to believe that the characters are not real! The timbre of the tales move from the outright hilarious laugh out loud kind, to the quiet and sombre tales of lost love, growing older and experiencing hard life lessons. Through it all, McLean manages to maintain a real connection with his audience - be it through the spoken or the written word - and to date his tales continue to delight audiences across the county.

Book Review - King of Bollywood – SRK and the Seductive World of Indian Cinema

More popular than Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt rolled into one, Shah Rukh Khan has dominated the Bollywood movies for over 15 years. A veritable ruler of the box office, “King Khan” story is the stuff that dreams are made of. Hailing from a small middle class family who’s roots are in modern day Pakistan, Shah Rukh Khan did what so many others only dreamed of – broke into an industry that has traditionally been controlled by only a handful of film making families and held his own against all odds. A Muslim hero in a dominantly Hindu industry (and country) The Khan’s story is one that blends family heartbreaks, guts and grit and sometimes sheer luck as we meander through one man’s journey to the dizzying heights of fame and success. The author, Anupama Chopra (who also hails from a “filmy” family) has a nice breezy style of writing and through this book we learn not only about Khan’s story but also that of Indian cinema – in all its gore and glory.

Book Review - Before Green Gables

For every one of us who fell in love with L M Montgomery's beloved character, here is a real treat! For those who might have asked - what made Anne... Anne? What gave rise to her vivid imagination? When did she begin to dream big dreams and how did she learn to spin that web of magic that drew all to her? Award winning author Budge Wilson has lovingly and tenderly taken us deeper into the journey of that bewitching little "carrots" from Avonlea and shone a light into a past that is very illuminating, often disconcerting but always inspiring. Before Green Gables is not only a tribute to Anne - but to fans of hers, everywhere.

Book Review - The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency Series

If ever you are looking for a book that is guaranteed to make you feel upbeat and cheerful, then look no further than McCall Smith’s series about Precious Ramotswe and her detective agency. Set in the arid dust bowl of the Kalahari in Botswana, the series follows Mma Ramotswe as she goes about fulfilling a life long dream by setting up a detective agency in her town.

Peppered with colourful characters like the serious but sensible assistant, the steady dependable fiancé, the bossy matron who runs the nearby “Orphan Farm” and many many more, the series gives us a good insight into the home and heart of the African way of life. The author’s love for Africa and Botswana in particular is very evident by his portrayal of the people and the country through a series of interconnected short storylines.

The pace of the book matches the pace of traditional Botswana – slow and steady, mixed with the company of good friends and family. So make time for a cup of bush tea on a shady veranda and doing this like Mma Ramotswe you will find that life’s problems present answers to themselves and in the process you will find out just what you wanted to find out about your new next door neighbour!