Books published by Mehta Publishing House

KINGS ARE EAGLES YOU SAID.EAGLES DO NOT BUILD NESTS ON THE GROUND; THEY BUILD THEM HIGH UP IN THE CREVASSES OF THE MOUNTAINS. ONCE HER FLEDGLINGS DEVELOP WINGS, THE FEMALE EAGLE PUSHES THEM OUT OVER THE EDGE OF THE NEST. ONLY THE ONES WITH STRONG WINGS SOAR AND RETURN THEY ARE TRUE EAGLES. IF THE KING IS INDEED AN EAGLE HE WILL RETURN TO THE NEST. OTHERWISE, ONE WILL HAVE TO SADLY CONCLUDE THAT THIS HOUSE NEVER GAVE BIRTH TO AN EAGLE. - THE HUNTER WHO WOULD CATCH THIS EAGLE IN HIS NET IS YET TO BE BORN!

THE WHOLE WORLD IS AN OCEAN. EACH ONE OF US HOLDS A NET IN HIS HANDS, AND IT HAS TO BE CAST WHILE MAINTAINING ONES BALANCE ON THE UNDULATING WAVES. THE CAUTIOUS ONES DO NOT VENTURE MUCH BEYOND THE SHORE TO CAST THEIR NETS. WITH THE SHORE CONSTANTLY IN SIGHT, THEY ARE SATISFIED WITH THE SMALL FRY THEY ARE ABLE TO CATCH; BUT SOME OF US ARE MORE DARING. THEY DREAM BIG. THEY ENTER DEEPER WATERS, BRAVING AND FIGHTING THE STRONG WINDS. THEY STRIKE GOLD. ONE CANNOT SCALE THE PEAK OF WEALTH THROUGH STOLEN MONEY; RATHER IT IS THE CAUSE OF ONES DOWNFALL. PRAY, DO NOT RUN AFTER SUCH ILL-GOTTEN, DECADENT WEALTH. IT WILL DESTROY YOU COMPLETELY. THE SAD SAGA OF YOUTH GOING AFTER QUICK MONEY DHAN APURE.

THROUGH GRANDMA’S BAG OF STORIES, SUDHA MURTY RECREATES THE TRADITIONAL WAY OF STORYTELLING, WHERE KIDS SIT AROUND A GRANDPARENT, WHILE GETTING MESMERISED BY ONE INTERESTING TALE AFTER ANOTHER. AS THE BOOK STARTS, THE SETTING IS THAT OF SUMMER, AND A FEW CHILDREN GO ON A HOLIDAY TO THEIR GRANDPARENTS’ HOME IN SHIGGAON, KARNATAKA. THEY PROCEED TO DO WHAT CHILDREN DO BEST FIND SOMEONE TO PLAY WITH. THEY BEFRIEND THE KIDS NEXT DOOR, AND HAVE LOADS OF FUN WITH THEM. FROM TAKING A FUN PICNIC TO VISITING THE WEEKLY MARKET, THEY ENJOY EVERY MINUTE OF THEIR VACATION. BUT THEIR FAVORITE THING TO DO IS LISTEN TO THEIR GRANDMOTHER’S FANTASTIC STORIES. GRANDMA’S BAG OF STORIES CONTAINS THE STORIES THAT THE GRANDMOTHER NARRATES TO ENTERTAIN THE SEVEN YOUNG CHILDREN. THE TALES ARE MAGICAL, AND REPLETE WITH CAPTIVATING CHARACTERS. MORAL LESSONS ARE SUBTLY BLENDED IN WITH THE TALES TO IMPRESS THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN WHAT IS RIGHT AND WHAT IS WRONG.THE ILLUSTRATIONS BY PRIYA KURIAN MAKE THE BOOK MORE INTERESTING AND KEEP THE YOUNG READERS ENGROSSED. THE STORIES FEATURE SEVERAL CHARACTERS LIKE A QUEEN WHO DISCOVERS SILK, A PRINCESS WHO IS TURNED INTO AN ONION, A LAZY MAN, AN ANGRY BEAR, CHEATS AND KINGS, AND MICE AND MONKEYS. THE STORIES ARE BASED ON THE AUTHOR’S OWN CHILDHOOD IN SHIGGAON, AND THE STORIES THAT SHE HEARD FROM HER GRANDMOTHER.

THESE GHOSTS CAN BE FOUND ABSOLUTELY ANYWHERE. NOBODY CAN SWEAR AND SAY THAT THEY ARE NOT FOUND IN SUCHANDSUCH PLACE. THEY ARE CERTAIN TO BE FOUND HAUNTING THE RUINS OF OLD WADAS, WELLS, AND CEMETERIES. THE HADAL LIVES IN WELLS, AND SHE MOVES ABOUT IN THE GUISE OF A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN. THE MUNJA IS SURE TO BE FOUND ON A PEEPUL TREE. AND OF COURSE THE PIMPARNI, BANYAN, AND NEEM TREES ATTRACT LARGE GROUPS OF GHOSTS, JUST LIKE MONKEYS. THEY ARE QUIESCENT DURING DAYTIME, AND THEIR DAY BEGINS AFTER DARK. THEN ONE CAN ENCOUNTER THEM ANYWHERE AND IN ANY GUISE. IT IS SAID THAT THEIR FEET FACE BACKWARDS; BUT THIS IS NOT ALWAYS TRUE. ON NOMOON NIGHTS THEY DEFINITELY PROWL ABOUT. TO BE SEEN BY THEM, OR EVEN TALKING ABOUT THEM ON SUCH OCCASIONS IS MOST DANGEROUS!

WHAT HAS EXCLUSIVELY BEEN EXCLUDED FROM THE PLEASURE BOX, IS NOTICEABLE, THE LETTERS WHICH ARE FULL ONLY OF PRAISES, ARE NOT PUBLISHED, THIS IS NOT A TRUNK FULL OF LETTERS WISHING WELL-BEING, THIS IS A DIALOGUE, OF COURSE, SOME LINES DO RELATE TO OPENING STATEMENTS ENQUIRING ABOUT EACH OTHER. STILL, IT HAS TO BE KEPT IN MIND THAT THIS CORRESPONDENCE THROUGH LETTER HAS BEEN ESTABLISHED WITH A PURPOSE. IT AIMS AT KNOWING THE LIKES AND DISLIKES OF EACH OTHER. YET, WE HAVE EDITED A LOT FROM EACH OF THE LETTER SENT BY THE READERS. AT TIMES, THE READERS ARE TOO ELABORATIVE WHILE PRAISING WHICH OFTEN MAKES THE RECEIVER AWKWARD. ON THE OTHER HAND, THIS HAMPERS THE DIALOGUES. THE LETTERS WHICH HELPED TO FURTHER ESTABLISH COMMUNICATION WERE SELECTED.

IN ‘MAAZAA KAILASVASI VRUTTAPATRA VYAVASAYA’ THE PROTAGONIST NARRATES HOW HIS JOURNALISTIC CAREER CAME TO AN END DUE TO HIS INTELLECTUAL NONONSENSE STYLE OF WRITING…’KHEDYATIL EK DIVAS’ TAKES A SARCASTIC LOOK AT THE GROSS MISCONCEPTIONS THAT CITY DWELLERS HOLD ABOUT VILLAGE LIFE…BHIKU INGALE DECIDES TO BECOME A TEACHER RATHER THAN A CLERK AND IN ‘EKA VARGATIL PATH’ HE TELLS HOW HE LEARNT HIS LESSON FOR LIFE! MOVED BY THE PLIGHT OF FLOOD VICTIMS IN PUNE, THE FOLK OF BHOKARWADI GO ON A FUNDRAISING DRIVE AND END UP NEEDING HELP THEMSELVES…IN ‘GANPAT PATIL’ WE MEET THE LARGEHEARTED, BUT CUNNING PROTAGONIST WHO KEEPS FIGHTING THE CASE FOR PRESTIGE THOUGH HE IS SURE TO LOSE; YET IN THE END HE FORGIVES SAKHU…ON THE OTHER HAND, IN ‘NIKAAL’, GANPAT WAGHMODE SOMEHOW MANAGES TO GET A FAVOURABLE VERDICT FOR HIMSELF… THE COMMON THREAD THAT LINKS THE TALES TOGETHER IN THIS COLLECTION IS THE SOMEWHAT HUMOROUS STREAK UNDERLYING ALL HUMAN NATURE – FULL OF PARADOXES AND CUNNING. THE EASY AND SPONTANEOUS STYLE HAS LENT A CONVERSATIONAL TONE TO THE VOLUME.

THERE IS NOTHING LIKE MAGIC; IT IS ALL TRICKERY. BABU OF BHOKARWADI DONS THE MANTLE OF MAGICIAN (‘JADUGAAR’) TO PROVE THIS POINT! BAJABA MAKES A COMPLAINT ABOUT A ROBBERY IN THE HOTEL; BUT THEN ALSO GIVES A WRITTEN SUBMISSION THAT THE THEFT NEVER TOOK PLACE (‘CHORI ZALICH NAHI’)! FED UP WITH THE LOCAL POLITICS (‘GAVGUNDI’), THE NEWLYAPPOINTED LADY TEACHER DECIDES TO QUIT HER JOB AND LEAVE THE VILLAGE! BABU AND CHENGTYA TOO FACE THE SAME TRAVAILS (‘VANVAAS’) AS RAMA HAD TO. THE GOVERNMENT ISSUED AN ORDINANCE LEGALIZING CORRUPTION (‘BHRASHTAACHAR’); BUT THIS ONLY SERVES TO DOUBLE BALU’S WORKLOAD SINCE HE IS A GOVERNMENT SERVANT! BAPU PATIL DID COMPLETE THE ADOPTION FORMALITIES (‘DATTAKVIDHI’) FOR HIS SON, BUT BABU AND CHENGTA MANAGE TO MESS THINGS UP! DAGADU GAWALI ONE CONDUCTS THE CLASS (‘TAAS’) OTHERWISE TAKEN BY THE STD. IV MATHS TEACHER WHO TOOK PLEASURE IN CANING THE BOYS! SIVA JAMDADE, RAMA KHARAT, GANA MASTAR, NANA CHENGAT, AND BABU PAILWAN GO FOR A PICNIC (‘COMPANY’)! FUN…IRONY…ADVICE…SHARP CRITICISM…AND TRAGEDY TOO…SUCH IS THE NATURE OF THIS COLLECTION OF STORIES.

GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT SADOBA’S IDEA WAS, ABOUT RUNNING A BUSINESS! ONE HAS TO CONSTANTLY COME UP WITH NEW IDEAS TO INCREASE THE NUMBER OF CUSTOMERS, MAKE DIFFERENT PLANS, HAVE AN ATTRACTIVE DÉCOR IN THE SHOP; BUT THESE THOUGHTS NEVER OCCURRED TO HIM. OF COURSE THIS WAS NOT THROUGH ANY FAULT OF HIS. THE VILLAGE ENVIRONMENT WAS LIKE THAT. ALL SHOPKEEPERS WERE IDENTICAL – IDOLS CAST FROM THE SAME MOULD. THEY FOLLOWED THE SAME PATTERN – SET UP SHOP, WAIT FOR CUSTOMERS, AND STRIKE A DEAL WITH THEM IF THEY ENTER; AND IF NO ONE TURNS UP, JUST LAZE ABOUT. THE TREND WAS TO DO NOTHING ACTIVELY. IN THOSE DAYS THE VILLAGE WAS COMPLETELY UNTOUCHED BY MODERN SALES SKILLS. THE RESULT WAS INEVITABLE. AFTER A FEW YEARS THE TIDE OF GOOD BUSINESS AND PLENTY, RECEDED. THE NUMBER OF CUSTOMERS WENT ON FALLING. HE FELL ON REALLY DIFFICULT TIMES… FINALLY SADOBA NEVASKAR DIED A HUNGRY PAUPER!

BHASKAR HANDED OVER THE TORCH TO SUMEETA SAYING ‘BE OUR LEADER NOW’. HE TOOK THE LANTERN FROM HER HANDS IN HIS OWN HANDS WHILE ENTERING THE GANDHI GRAM.SOME THOUGHTS CREPT IN HIS MIND.THIS IS NOT THE SUMEETA WHOM I KNEW…SHE IS NOT THE ONE WHOM I HAD SEEN ON THE ROADS OF MY VILLAGE…SHE IS NEITHER THE ONE WHO SEEMED TO BE A BIT MORE WISER AS SHE LEFT THE OLD TEMPLE…HE WAS NOT ABLE TO POINT OUT AS TO WHAT WAS THE EXACT CHANGE THAT HAD TAKEN PLACE.BUT THE SUMEETA THAT HE WAS SEEING NOW WAS SOMEONE NEW, THIS WAS A MIRACLE.

They had never thought for once that all their neighbours who were staying close to them, had their houses next to them would one day become their enemies. They always relied upon each other, sought each other's help in difficult times, were always there whenever needed. But today, these same people had become their enemies. For the first time they realized that there was danger from these very people. It was indeed a shock. They were shaken to their core. Never before they had realized, but now they felt that they were orphans. They had nobody whom they would call as their own. Now they had no guarantee of anything. At what time would destiny take a turn and in what way was so very unsure. A big storm was the cause behind this....

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Dr. Gerhardt, stationed at Frankfurt, worked relentlessly to find out the habits of a lion. He spent hours together in the company of those lions, of course, outside the cage. It is a known fact that the lion is one of the laziest animals. Yet, what Dr. Gerhardt found was astonishing. A lion simply sleeps for 10 to 15 hours out of the 24 hours. Then, it is dozing off for at least 4 to 5 hours. That leaves it with only 7 hours at the most. Then also, it prefers to sit idly, the time ranging from 1 to 4 hours. That surely means that a lion moves around only for an hour or so and at times, this may exceed to 7 hours. You might be thinking that in a zoo each animal is well looked after, hence they afford to be so lazy. But it is not so. The lions at Serengeti are equally lazy. They like to doze off. The lions in a zoo spend hardly 20, at the most 60 minutes for eating. The same applies to the lions in the wild. They need hardly a few minutes to hunt an animal. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿. ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿, ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿, ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿! ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿; ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿. ¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿-¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿, ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿?

Time flows relentlessly and so does the struggle. It does not take a break. If at all there is any change then it is in the form of high tide or overflowing. It is always on the side of worsening. Whenever there are more mouths to feed, a lot of people around this struggle reaches to peak. Whenever sharing land and food becomes inevitable, resistance is unavoidable. Confrontation is at its worst when someone tries to intrude our caste and our system and then tries to break through the impregnable walls of society. Those who are really able to speak, often blurt out their anger and antagonism through words. Those who are not able to speak out, reflect their love and hatred through actions, body language and so on. Once struggle starts, it takes a hideous form. Words appear to be deficient. Weapons take place of words then. Whenever there is a shortage of weapons, then often tusks and nails are used in place. Struggle envelopes everything.

The son of Devi Mahar at Dewadi denied to carry on with the customary work and threw away the yoke raised by the caste system since ages. He left for Mumbai in search of his dreams. Deva Mahar could not breathe normally. For him, his son's act was something unforgivable, a sin against the whole caste. On the other hand, Krishna, his son, landed himself in the Dream Land... cutting off all the relations with his father, wife, children, siblings and all. Could he find his way in the 'MayaNagari? Was he able to fulfill his dream there? An assessment of Krishna Next Steps ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿; ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ '¿¿' ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿...¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ '¿¿¿¿¿' ¿¿¿¿¿.... ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿...¿¿, ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿-¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿.... ¿¿¿¿ '¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿'¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿?... ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿?... ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ '¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿!'

BOR OR THE WILD BERRIES HAVE BEEN MUCH EXPERIMENTED AND THE SCIENTISTS HAVE COME FORWARD WITH MORE YIELDING VARIETIES OF BOR IN THE FORM OF UMRAN, KADAKA AND ELAICHI. BUT, I WOULD VOUCH THAT THESE DO NOT TASTE LIKE THE ORIGINAL BOR. THEY TASTE LIKE A GHERKIN INSTEAD. THE ORIGINAL BOR HAS A TYPICAL TASTE AND FLAVOUR. THEY ARE SWEET AND SOUR. THE MOMENT YOU TRY TO TAKE A BITE THEIR TYPICAL FLAVOUR BRINGS TANTALIZING SENSATION. THEY ARE ENOUGH JUICY WITH JUST ENOUGH CORE AND A HARD SEED WHICH YOU CAN KEEP ON CHEWING AT FOR A WHILE. IN PURSUIT OF DEVELOPMENT, OUR FARMERS HAVE LOST SO MANY EXCELLENT VARIETIES. THEIR LIKING TOWARDS JAPANESE RICE HAS MADE THEM FORGET THE GOOD OLD JIRGA VARIETY OF RICE. A WONDERFUL VARIETY! DO WE COME ACROSS THE VARIETY OF GROUNDNUT WITH ITS RUGGED SURFACE AND WRINKLED NUT INSIDE? AND THE MANGALVEDHI JOWAR AND KHAPALYA WHEAT? GULBHENDI HURDA AND PUNDYA SUGARCANE? THOSE SWEET, WHITE SWEET POTATO? GREEN GAVRAN BAJRA? IT SEEMS THAT IN THE HUBBUB OF HYBRID (OR HIGH BREED; ONE AND THE SAME) AND HIGH YIELDING WE ARE GOING TO MISS OUT ON OUR GOOD, OLD, WONDERFUL, SPECIAL VARIETIES. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿-¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿.

Australia, a country of sheep and meadows. What we knew about Australia is what we have heard very often. A country growing all sort of grains, a country where people are free to start any business that they wish to. Go deep down the sea and bring hands full of pearls back. Rear cattle and earn thousands by exporting the meat. Rear sheep and earn from the wool. Start your own 'everything under one roof' shop devoid of size. Or just be a farmer and produce pineapples, wheat, sugar over hundreds of acre. Have your own mine producing the Opel, the semiprecious stone. This country provides opportunity for literally anything. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿! ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿? ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿.... ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿ `¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿` ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿, ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ '¿¿¿¿'¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿.

The author had camped in the exquisite landscapes of Nagzira. His only accessories being a pair of binoculars and an enthusiastic mind full concern towards the wild life. And loo.... The findings were truly amazing. During his stay there, he would wake up to the early morning calls of the Dayal bird. The disappearing moon on one horizon and the spreading daylight soothed his eyes. The tall trees, their widespread but leafless branches would slowly come into sight. The only lantern which spread enough light throughout the night would appear to be lightless with the emerging sunrays. This would initiate him to come out of his bed, wrap it back quickly and start his day anew. '¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿-¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ - ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿â¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿. ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿....' ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ '¿¿¿¿¿¿¿' ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿; ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿... ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿!

This is the story of a family. Dada, Aai, six sons and two daughters. Dada called his wife 'fauzdar' as she was a very strict and curd lady. Once she started shouting, no one would be able to stop her. But the house which had provided shelter to all, burnt one day. Dada lost all his strength, he surrendered to the cruel hands of death and that left Aai speechless, literally. Now she was pulling on but she was nowhere into any of the activities. She now had to tackle eight problems in the form of her eight children. Life had left her alone to deal with these eight puzzles, the 'ashtak' full of pity and compassion. Each mother has to face this puzzle; full of pity and compassion. Since the ancient age, each woman is destined to carry burden, one or the other...Since then she has to bear the fruits that her femininity has bestowed upon her... her children...a burden, it seems

Since our childhood, we have heard a lot about rains. I have absolutely no idea if anyone else has understood its importance as we have. Our life depends exclusively on rains. We often try to bribe the rains so that they downpour on time. As a custom in the villages, the ladies sing songs while grinding on the hand stone grind. They weave in the rains beautifully while singing those songs. Why do we have such devotion towards rain? The answer is simple. We need the rains so that our mother earth could give us excellent yields in return.

These were people who presented stories before spectators. They used pictures, songs and instrumental playing to relate stories before people. They were known as 'Chitrakathi', but this was some time back, may be a few thousands year. As the years passed, the trends changed, old customs were replaced by new ones. Old was forgotten in the chaos of new. But it was not vanished completely. Cinema today, is the more advanced form of those 'chitrakathi'. Madgulkar reveals the stories behind these cinemas, taking the place of a chitrakathi

Throughout the journey many paths were trodden. I left house at an early age, and when I was just sixteen all these paths came to an end. Then I kept on trudging along the ways that came along. Wherever feet would drag became the new path. There was no one to accompany. After all these years, I am still not sure about anything. Is this the path that I desire? I am still doubtful. Boredom is inevitable in our life. But then that is also incomplete. It is like a short sheet which would either cover our face and leave our feet uncovered or it might cover our feet but leave our face uncovered. We are relieved from this only if we have a hobby to keep us occupied. One must develop hobbies, not just one or two but as many as possible. When you are bored up with one hobby then you can switch to other one. Or you might nurture many of your hobbies together. In the same way, you should trudge along various paths in your life.

The biggest shopping should be of the size of an elephant... Tanaji was punished and fined for a crime which he never did; and when he really did a crime, he was released... Foolish Gana wanted to be rich, for that he took relied upon 'Indrajal'. Miree and Suba were very close friends, inspite of their different castes, but it was Bawa who brought it to an end. An assorted platter of many such stories.

Sahitya Sammelans are the conferences where all the literature lovers join in together to share their knowledge and in return they get chance to hear to other dignitaries as well. Why are the Sahitya Sammelans held at all? This question always calls for controversy. What is the true purpose behind conducting them? The writer has presented the pros and cons before the readers. The very being of a human being is nothing but an attempt to create manyfold relationship with the world outside. Literature in a way is such a relationship. The Sahitya Sammelan gives a chance to express our love for mother tongue. It quenches knowledge thirst in many ways. It has indeed gained an important place in our society today.

BIRDS ARE CLASSIFIED. IN THE SAME WAY WE CAN CLASSIFY THE AUTHORS. THOSE WHO SCRIBBLE WITH BLACK ON WHITE PAPERS. AUTHORS SPECIALIZING MYTHOLOGY: LIKE THE CRANE; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING HISTORICAL WRITING: LIKE THE PAURANIK; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING HUMOUR: LIKE THE PARAKEET; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING MIDDLE CLASS: LIKE THE PIGEON; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING SLUMS: LIKE THE KING EAGLE; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING RURAL WRITINGS: LIKE THE COUNTRY HEN; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING IN CHILDREN’S BOOK: LIKE A FIST; AUTHORS IN GENERAL: LIKE THE TITVI, THE LAPWING; ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿ '¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿' ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿; ¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ : ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ : ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ : ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ : ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ : ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ : ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿-¿¿¿¿ : ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ (¿¿¿) ¿¿¿¿ : ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿

MANADESHI IS AN INSEPARABLE PART OF POSTINDEPENDENCE MARATHI LITERATURE. THE CHARACTER SKETCHES IN THIS COLLECTION ARE NOT ONLY TALES IN THE OLD MOULD, BUT ALSO HAVE THE MAGICAL QUALITY THAT TOUCHES UPON THE VERY ESSENCE OF LIFE. THE CHARACTERS ARE GENUINELY MARATHI IN NATURE, AND THEY HAVE BEEN DRAWN WITH THE EASE WITH WHICH DAWN TURNS INTO DAY OR A BUD BLOSSOMS INTO A FLOWER. WITH INNOCENCE, VYANKATESH MADGULKAR TELLS US ABOUT THE POVERTYSTRICKEN LIVES OF THE PEOPLE OF MANDESH AND THEIR SAGA OF NEVERENDING SORROWS. THEIR TRAGEDY IS MOVING. THE MIND IS FILLED WITH THE THOUGHT THAT WHILE MEN SEEK SOME HAPPINESS, THEIR LIVES WERE NEVER SCRIPTED TO FIND IT. THIS ESSENTIAL TRAGIC FACT IS TOLD BY MADGULKAR WITH THE DETACHMENT OF AN ARTIST. THIS RENDERS HIS CHARACTERS UNFORGETTABLE. OUR MIND IS DISTURBED EVERY TIME WE THINK OF THEM.

All around us, we see people who have aged for all our life. The neem tree here is also one of them. Has anyone seen the tree when it was young, is a doubt that I have about it. It has a huge trunk. All over the trunk you will find many hard knotlike structures. It is as if the neem has reached a certain age and is going to remain like that forever. As if the time for it has stood still. But the month of Chaitra brings some change with it. Many shades of parrot green start appearing all over the ageold neem tree. It spreads a sort of aura all over. It shades a wonderful light. As the scorching sun goes on roasting everyone around, people automatically turn towards the neem tree. Its shadow has mesmerizing effect, that of the air conditioning system.

I am inspired with a story and this story has its definite shape as it acquires my thoughts. But I cannot say that this is what happens always. at times, there just a tiny seedling that drops onto the soft cushions of my mind, awaiting favourable conditions for germination, just like the peepul seed. It is also true that every now and then many such seeds drop into my mind. It is not possible to differentiate the peepul seed from that of grass. Yet, I can surely hear the wind passing through the dense foliage of the peepul. These stories resemble the wind passing through it.

What remains on the earth for a longer period of time? His deeds? No! the trees that one had planted stay forth on the earth than anything else done by a person. I never had the power which would allow me to come up with something unforgettable, good or bad! Of course, I have done some god things throughout my life. But today I truly feel that instead of my literary work much liked by all, the trees like mango and tamarind which I not just planted but nurtured as well have thrived in a better way and they will continue to adorn this mother earth for a longer period of time.' The author has shown a wonderful side of his innovative and creative thinking, through his simple yet captivating words.

A postman, collecting a variety of stones, designing the layout of the palace, and later constructing it on his own The agricultural life of a farmer in France A penned down portrait of the famous artist Vincent Van Gogh P. B. Bhave, a person of many qualities with his wit, naughtiness, persistent nature, happy go lucky attitude and many more. He is so very pure at heart. Here is an attempt to portray him, trying to capture all those worthy features Jane Good all, the brave primatologist, ethologist and anthropologist George Schaller, American field biologist and author Jayantrao Tilak who was a great editor and a hunter as well Richard Burton, a versatile personality Taking us through the many trails of the wild forests leading to unbound beauty of nature and many more ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿... ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿... ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿... ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿.¿¿. ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿... ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿-¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿, ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿... ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿... ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿...¿¿¿¿¿¿...¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿... -¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿. ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿-¿¿¿-¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿... ¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿ ¿¿¿ ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿!