More Unfairy Tales by TF Carthick- Book Review

Who doesn’t love fairy tales? The popularity of these age-old tales is evident in the numerous retellings that are being read, appreciated, and bashed all over the world. From high fantasy to erotica to horror, writers retold the tales in various genres.

More Unfairy Tales is no different. Yet, it is super fun and interesting. Five of the famous fairy tales have been turned into ‘unfairy’ tales. Now, it doesn’t mean there are no fairies. The title has been selected with a deeper meaning. These tales show how life can be unfair, and we can do nothing much about it. Or, maybe we can do something. But the course of action we decide finalizes our fate and others.

Don’t jump to conclusions and call this a serious book. I did say it was fun, didn’t I? The stories happen to have an underlying hint of how a single thought and action can cause a huge impact. The writing suits the genre and with subtle humor and mild satire that highlights particular traits of the characters. This adds multiple layers to the unidimensional original witches, fairies, and princesses.

While we see the Point of View of the dwarfs about Snow White, we also see how humans can be stupid, vain, and dangerous.

Have you ever thought why the witch turned the Prince into a Beast? Did you wonder what would have happened if the Beauty said no to the Beast? Well, you don’t have to wonder anymore.

What if Little Red Riding Hood found out that grandma was indeed a wolf? What if the villagers actually hated her because of her red hair?

Did anybody bother to see the evil witch from her perspective in Rapunzel? Why can’t a witch be a good mother? Maybe, she can. Maybe, she is.

Was there a single thing the elves did that did not create a mess? Nope, we know. It’s the same thing all over again. They never seem to learn, do they? To be (un) fair, if they did learn, we wouldn’t have these stories to read.

Overall, more Unfairy Tales is a clean, engaging, and humorous read. Kids, teens, and adults can read and enjoy the book.

I received the book as a gift for winning 'Not a Fairy Tale' contest hosted by Beyond the Box. 

Death at Midnight by Manoj Paprikar- Book Review

Death At Midnight by Manoj Paprikar
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

*4.5 stars*

Death at Midnight is a small, yet packed thriller that deals with the psychology of people. It's not a psychopath thriller. I'm done with those for a while. This book is about the people around us. The kind we know, see on the telly, or gossip about. I'm going to try and avoid spoilers, so the review will be a bit vague.

One theme that stands out is the pressure on doctors to save a life and the repercussions they face when things go out of their hands. We've seen many instances in the news about families destroying hospitals because their dear ones weren't saved. People are always ready to destroy things that don't belong to them.

Many times, as audiences, we wonder and pass judgment on either party with little or no information. But do we really know what had happened? Do we know what each of them, on either side goes through? No.

This book deals with how one decision, one incident, and one action change the lives of the people connected to it. The writing is neat, clean, and straightforward. You won't find any drama, and that makes this book a hit in my view. When the reader is left to feel the pain of the characters in a simple and no-nonsense manner, it creates more impact.

Visualizing the characters is easy. I could see each one of them talk, move, cry, and think as I read page after page. The first few chapters deal with introducing the characters and establishing their traits. By the time the story is at a high point, we know how they'll react. The author doesn't plan any surprises to throw us off balance. Another plus.

So is there anything I wanted more from the book? Yes. One character I thought would play a prominent role wasn't utilized to her full potential. I wished she was more involved during the later stages of the story. It doesn't take anything away from the story, though.

The ending is positive, assertive, hopeful, and leaves you feeling satisfied. Exactly, the kind of books I like to read. Considering that the author is a doctor himself, it's not surprising that he handled the theme with ease. I finished the book in less than 2 hours.

View all my reviews

If you are looking for a quick weekend read that'll make you think, Death at Midnight by Manoj Paprikar is your book.

Grab your copy here: https://artoonsinn.com/product/death-at-midnight/

Nothing Has Changed

Source: Pixabay. 

She sat, limbs frozen in the serene snow

Words broke her once and for all

Nothing changed, life stood still.

Regret & Respect

Source: Pixabay.

The sun hid under the waves long ago
Head bowed he stood motionless
The dead rested at last.



The poetry style is called Kimo. 

Ghachar Ghochar Review

Ghachar Ghochar by Vivek Shanbhag
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I'm wary of translations as these tend to filter out the essence of the original. But this book looked like it did retain the tone, feel, and flavor of the original.
The narrator is dispassionate and is not sure if he is even suffering from an identity crisis or if he cares enough about it. He makes you want to hate (detest) a lot of people in his family, except for his wife Anita. Or, it would be the other way round, and you'll end up feeling sorry for him and his family (less likely).
The ending left me disappointed because I wanted to know more and see the narrator change. It doesn't happen. I guess the story is more real than reality in that way. It doesn't take away anything from the story, rather emphasizes that some people can live their entire lives feeling passionate about things but don't bother to act on it as it takes too much effort.

Two friends of mine suggested this book and one of them sent me a copy to read. I'm happy to have read it. Gave me pointers to handle subdued and less worthy narrators in a story.


View all my reviews

Temple Classroom and Other Stories by Puja Roy- A Review

Some stories make us laugh, some make us cry. While some stories fill us with love, others empty us of every emotion. For me, it's not every day that I read stories so close to real life, that the lines blur in more ways than one.

I'm a fiction lover. I prefer happy ever after and tales of crime, adventure, and romance.
This book is not any of those. Yet, it managed to make me want to read more. Set in rural, suburban, and urban India, the stories are so real, that one wouldn't be surprised if someone told you it was their life's experience.

Most of the characters are not perfect. They have flaws, insecurities, complexes, and doubts. They also have smiles, tears, fears, and hope. In short, they are human and relatable. A myriad of emotions will cloud your senses as you read the stories.

If Temple Classroom inspires you to do something and achieve your goals, Homebaker will have you rooting for Sushila; not just Sushila in the book but the Sushila in you, buried deep within for whatsoever reason.

Phulo, Silver Anklets, and Platform No. 7 talk about people we prefer not to notice. Who cares for beggars and hawkers when their own life is so full of questions? Yet, they lead a life parallel to ours, only to intersect at the most unexpected circumstances.
Many facets of life and society are meticulously observed and tactfully presented to us. From the heartbroken bride in The Last Promise to a Broken Nest echoing with unbearable silences, from the quest for The Root of her existence to unspoken words of routine in The Tea Story, we see what life does to men and women.

Questions, taunts, silences, turmoil, anguish, hatred, and hopelessness- we live them each day and somehow find solace in the very pain that hurts us. Oh, there are moments of smiles and laughter. Still, it's a bittersweet tinge of loss in various forms that lingers long after we close the book.

Be it Ballu's love for cinema or Muralidhar's gratitude for the retired principal; be it Sakina's neverending faith in God, or the premonition of love between a couple, we read, feel, and experience emotions in their purest and original form.

You might be wondering why I'm not going into detail about the stories. It's because I want you to experience and be a part of the journey of each character as I did.

Writing in the present tense is quite tricky. I was pleasantly surprised to see the ease with which Puja Roy handed it. Most of the time, it doesn't even strike us that the stories are past continuous and present tenses because we are so engrossed in their lives that nothing else matters.
There is no denying that the stories we hope to have a happy ending leave us feeling disappointed. But isn't that how life is? We learn to accept reality and move on. Here, we try to imagine what would happen next and continue the story in the way we want. Yes, Puja Roy has ensured that, as readers, we can take cab take the stories forward in the way we want. Pick any story, and you'll be able to weave another extended ending of your own.

Temple Classroom and Other Stories is a book you should read if you want to meet characters who make a lasting impression.

Link to the book: https://www.amazon.in/Temple-Classroom-Puja-Roy/dp/B07Y2XFXWZ/

Green and Black

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

She ran to greet her tender saplings
The wind playing with her fiery curls
As her laughter echoing in the open fields.

She tripped over a broken pulley,
Tears streaming, as her plants vanished
Giving way to a shiny black road.

Paths connected; plants sacrificed.


Sevenling style poem.

City Life

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Heavy clouds floated
Sprinkling on the tiny blooms
Trying to lure me from the book

The screeching horns echoed
Competing with the neighbor's blaring radio
As I shooed away the creepy caterpillar

How does a recluse survive in a crowded city?



Sevenling style poem.

Neither!

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Shadows
Crawling around
My shadowless existence.

Perspectives

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Go
Walk away
Don't look back.

Wait 

There's hope

Is there not?

No
It's over
Now and forever.

Why?

Who decides

What happens next?

Stubborn
Too bad
Not worth it.

Perspective 

As always

Let it be.

Whatever
It's off
Do not forget.

Understood 

It's off

Free to go.

Trying the Hay(na)ku style. 

Find Me

The image is taken from Unsplash.
Photographer: Peter Forster 

Find me in your dreams
Watching you
As you scream in fear.

Reflections A-Z 2019

Hiya readers,

It has been a roller coaster month of April for me. Being my first A-Z Challenge, I have a feeling I missed out on some important stuff, but at least, I got to complete the challenge.

Yes, I'm a survivor (feeling like a Warrior Princess) and trust me when I say it was not easy. Writing poetry might sound fun (it is too), but writing it for a theme (A-Z) and trying to bring as much diversity as possible made it teeny bit tough.

This was definitely interesting, and I will hopefully participate next year. :)

Thank you, for hosting this challenge. I'm glad I could be a part of it in your tenth year.

In case, you want to read my works of the challenge, click on the link below.

Link to the Theme Reveal post with links to all the posts from A-Z: Main Post

The Wish

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

From behind the glass
A fairy
Wanted to be loved.

Poetry form: Lune

How Real is it?

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

“Fall in love with the colors of spring.” She twirled, a crown of daisies adorning her auburn ringlets.

The cameras clicked her pictures in delight, as tender petals danced around her.

Four hours later…

The artificial trees were removed from the air-conditioned film set.

Zephyr's Gift

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Soft and gentle,

He touched my hair 

Lifting the tendrils 

To dance with abandon.

Warm and cool,

He soothed my soul

Blowing a sweet kiss

To wipe the traces of pain.

Spring or autumn,

He never left me alone

Filling my senses 

With the fragrance of flowers and leaves.

Mist and snow,

He brought along at times

Sliding over my face

As I stare at the sky.

Tugging my skirt,

He teased me to follow

To the ends of the earth

Hoping to catch a glimpse.

Was he a spirit,

Or an invisible little boy?

Was he the God of the west wind,

Blowing to stake a claim?

Day and night,

He acted as my knight

As people asked about my secret smile

I laughed, calling it Zephyr's Gift.

*********

Note:
Zephyr is the name of the Greek God of the West Wind.
That was where the meaning of breeze got attached to the word.
And... we are done!!
I did the challenge of one poem per day for an entire month. :D
*dancing with joy* 

Yarn of the Sailors

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

The waves were still

As the ship glided

On the onyx waves

Randomly shimmering silver

In the pearly moonlight.

Cards and bottles on the desk 

They sat in a circle

Singing in hoarse voices

The songs of valor, pride, and sea

Spinning tales of mermaids and sirens. 

'Her emerald eyes, ruby lips

Soft as raspberries,

The tail shining like diamonds

She beckoned to me

Promising to show the buried treasure.'

'Fire at her fingertips,

Honey in her voice,

She swayed with the waves,

Her curves promising surprises,

Only if I brought her the head of the three-eyed monster.'

Laughter echoed in the silent night

Until, one after another 

The sailors sunk 

Into their cold beds

Tired and lonely in the middle of the sea.

Each night the yarn spun

Weaving a web of intrigue

Around the sailing ship

Unknown to the sailors

As sirens and mermaids followed them home. 

***********

Note:
Yarn also means the stories a sailor invents to pass time. So you see what I did here. :)
 Just another day to go.

Xanthophyll

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Xanthe,

A lover of rustling autumn

Night and day counted the leaves 

Twirling among the tired trees

Hand in Hand with magic

Obsessing over the tiny stems of brown

Plucking the dead twigs with love

Hanging them in the open sky

Yellow, orange, and red, she painted the colors

Life, Xanthe knew, was no more in them

Loyal her heart was, saving them among the pages of an old favorite book. 

**********

Note:
Xanthophyll is a yellow plant pigment that causes the autumn color of leaves.
The poem is written in Acrostic style.
Xanthe is a Greek name for 'blond-haired', the color of yellow autumn leaves.

Well of Wisdom

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Once upon a time

In the middle of a forest

Round and stout with a roof overhead

Stood a well of wisdom.

Together, the animals guarded it

Knowing about the species

Lurking around their haven 

Waiting to steal the gift of Nature.

On nights when the moon was full

Rose a tipsy faerie

Swaying and tumbling in the breeze

From deep inside the well.

One by one the animals clapped

Mesmerized by her dance

Forgetting the fights of the day 

As magic dust shimmered around.

Two drops of the elixir

Each got to taste 

Heads bowed and arms folded

They knew a blessing wasn't to be abused.

It was the water from the well

That made them sensitive 

Unlike humans 

Deprived of humanity.

Animals, they were 

With a heart and soul

Caring for their priceless gift

Hiding the well of wisdom from humans. 

***********

Note:
I attempted a fable in this poem.
Hope you like it.

Valley of Vacuum

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Riding on a black stallion 

Donning darkness as a cape

The silver sword sheathed 

By the folds of the night

A Knight crossed the mountains.

Clouds filled the new moon sky 

Heavy and gray, ready to lash out

As the stallion skid to a halt

Allowing the thunderous echo 

To lapse into an eerie silence.

On his feet, the Knight forged ahead

Enveloped by the shadows 

One step at a time 

He entered the ominous place

Called the Valley of Vacuum.

Not a soul ever walked

On the lands cursed by blood

Of the ancients who ruled

Until one cold winter evening 

Nightmare arrived dressed in disguise.

Sucking away the light of the days

Never allowing a ray to pass

The shadows turned darker

Growing stronger and powerful

With the vibration of the spells.

Deep into the valley, the Knight went

The Glint of his sword  

Somehow showing him the way

As the mountains closed from the sides

Blocking the path of his return.

Turning back was not his aim

Slicing through the thick abyss

He walked to the throne of lightning 

For the Knight was a true heir 

And the Valley of Vacuum was his to claim. 

***********

Note:
Tried to weave a mystery story for the Valley of Vacuum. :)
We are almost done with the letters.

Under the Umbrella

Together on a busy street 

was the couple under the umbrella. 

Curtained by the sheets of rain 

was the couple under the umbrella. 

Dressed in earthy shades of brown 

was the couple under the umbrella. 

Immersed in a world of oblivion

was the couple under the umbrella. 

On the way to home or a house 

was the couple under the umbrella? 

Aware of their destination 

was the couple under the umbrella?

Brought closer by the showers

was the couple under the umbrella?

Bound by the questions or the answers

was the couple under the umbrella?

Walking away from my focus

was the couple under the umbrella.

Uncaring of my observations

was the couple under the umbrella. 

Not bothering to wave me a goodbye

was the couple under the umbrella.

********

Note: The painting is by Mrs. Ratna Pochiraju
Since I already wrote a poem about umbrellas, I had to write another for this event.
The poem is written in Chant style.

The Taurean Girl

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Sass and class, she has in spades

From the womb of the earth, she was born

As Venus blessed from above, a proud godmother

Stubborn, the world branded her

When she refused to back down

As they cornered her to do as they bid

Hot tempered, they accused her 

Unable to handle the heat 

Her words hurled at them 

Her loyalty could never be bought;

The words were an oath in stone

She refused to set aside

Her trust came at a price;

If it cost the world a lifetime 

The loss wasn't hers to blame 

She was a fluttering bird

Building her dreams, twig at a time 

Yet ready to spin a whirlwind to protect her home

Fire & Ice tangled in her heart

Oceans & Volcanoes crashed in her soul 

She was a paradox; the daughter of Nature 

*********

Note:
I know this looks mighty odd, but the Taurus season has just begun and I'm damn excited.
That it coincided with the letter T was too tempting to resist.
Hope you enjoyed reading the poem.

Swan Couple

Floating on the emerald water

The swans mated with grace

Hoping to birth a darling daughter

They swam smiling, face to face 

As the rippling waves danced in joy

Adorning the lake as delicate lace

The fluttering leaves ceased to annoy

Their tiny white flowers showering a rain 

While the sparkling reeds grinned in coy 

The air of excitement was hard to contain 

When the swans waltzed in dizzy

The magic of Nature was impossible to explain 

*********

Notes:
The painting is by Mrs. Ratna Pochiraju
The poem is written in Terza Rima style with the rhyme scheme ABA BCB CDC DED

Rainbow Rules

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Varied colors etched in the sky 

Inviting me to paint your picture

'Bring along that brush,' you winked

Glowing in the spectrum of shades

Your marvelous curves holding my gaze

Owning my senses to do as you bid

Rescuing me from the tiresome daily life.

Royal is your ruling on the universe 

Oh, my dear rainbow

You mean the world to me 

Gentle yet strong, bending yet unbreakable

Brewing magic at the ends of your bow

Into the spaces between spaces you blur away

Vanishing from sight, but totting your love in my heart. 

***********

Note:
Rainbows are my absolute favorites.
How could I not write a poem on them?
Can you guess the style of the poem?
(Hint: See the first letters of each line).

Queen's Quest

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Ruling over the vast lands

Sitting high up on the hills

In a palace of rocks and boulders

Was a woman of beauty and valor. 

With a heart of purest gold

Smoky eyes shining with wisdom 

Words of order and command 

She cast a spell of fertility in her land.

Years passed as the crops bloomed

Laughter echoed, smiles glittered

Riches overflowed even as her heart sighed

For her deepest desire lay buried.

Knights, princes, and men of courage

Danced attendance in her court 

Yet, she felt no flutter in the folds of her heart

Yearning for the man from the sun.

The rays of his love kissed her skin 

Warming her senses in the cold dark nights

Promising to meet soon as summer beamed

For he was the Queen's quest. 

********

Note:
Q invariably stands for Queen. I found the picture when I was searching for a cover for a story. I knew I had to use it somewhere.
Here it is.

Pandora Box?

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Some secrets were safer buried for eternity

Locked and hidden in a box from the past 

While leaving the numerous questions unanswered

Forgotten until the others gave up and moved on

Locked and hidden in a box from the past 

Away from the prying eyes of all

Forgotten until the others gave up and moved on

I opened the box for one last time 

Away from the prying eyes of all

It sat patiently waiting to be noticed

I opened the box for one last time 

Doomed and drowned by the Pandora of memories

It sat patiently waiting to be noticed

While leaving the numerous questions unanswered

Doomed and drowned by the Pandora of memories

Some secrets were safer buried for eternity

***********

Note:
The Pandora Box story was one of my favorites since childhood.
I tried to replicate the story with a different form of sadness.
The poem is written in Pantoum style.

Ode to the Owl

The image is taken from Pixabay. 

Out in the dark night, you perch on a treetop 

Awake when the rest of the world goes to sleep

Staring at me through the grills of my window

Saving me from vile.

They could chant all spells of ancient black magic

Weaving a strong web of sinister motives

Nothing can touch me as long as you are here 

Wide-eyed protector.

What is it that binds you and me together

The hidden secrets of the shadowy night

An unrevealed link from a previous life

My friend forever. 

***********

Notes:
Owls are cute looking birds (at least to me). They have this subtle sinister edge to them making them appear a little creepy at times.
The poem is written in Sapphic Ode style. The first three lines of each stanza have 11 syllables each the last lines have 5.