Skip to main content

Book Summary

Book Title: The Village By the Sea
Author: Anita Desai
Length: 260 pages
Genre: Children's Fiction 
 


Scoop in a Nutshell
A village by the sea. What does that remind you of?
Hawkers? Flea markets? Fishing?
Bring in all of that and more. Into the vibrant village of Thul, nestling by the Arabian Sea.
Breathing color and life and fish, Thul is a fishing-hub, complete with its share of routine bustle, markets, fresh palms, and the nautical breeze.  
And life goes on.

But does it, really?

When an industrial building is thrust into such a pristine frame, can life ever seem the same?
The answer, of course, is no, but unlike what you might have believed, it is the people- the villagers-that seem outlandish, and not the factory. City-folk have always had the knack of marking their territory, and so, as the old breathe the smoke of a transformed native land, and the young grapple between dreams of recruitment in the factory, and reality, life goes on.

Hari, a young boy, his sister, Leela, and their younger siblings are thrown into more turmoil than ever with the coming of the factory. What with  an invalid mother to tend for and a drunkard of a father to fend themselves from, there could never have been enough.

However, Leela and Hari deal with every situation with a renewed courage and strength, finding ways out and managing to keep themselves grounded  all along. But how long can it last? The shores have always been tempting, so Hari finally sets off all by himself to Bombay, to make himself a fortune that he believes can be of aid to his family.

There is good in every corner of the world. Hari would have rephrased that- every tenth mile has a helpful soul. In Bombay, a Mr. Panwallah, a watch-maker, is the companion Hari would just have needed while working in a hectic five to nine job in a local dhaba- The Shree Krishna Eating House.
Adventures, experiences, learning, courage and knowledge just fly to Hari when he takes up watch-mending 'part-time' with Mr. Panwallah. He soon realises that he has found a profession he is suited for.

And so the parting is a pleasant one. The man who comes back to Thul is confident, self-reliant, responsible and well-aware. His father has come to terms with the right kind of living, and his mother is in finer health than before.






Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

(How I Wish) People Were Like Poems

Today, I wish people were more like poems.  A sad truth is dawning on me.  I can't just be. Most things just are. No proof required. No justification. Here I feel like an instance Of a class. Some kind of template  With some methods Instantiated. Many of my methods are public. Others comment on them. If I encapsulate, They pry. If I am abstract, They talk. What's going on? I'm not going to plead any more. I'll just shut all the doors. Make all the methods and variables private. Too many people tampering with the balance of it all. Our lives are not portraits or leaflets to hand out. Media often makes us feel so, but existence is way older, Authentic and organic- than the glitzy hood of social media. Human beings, like plants, need space, nourishment and nurturing To thrive. Are plants dependent on these things? Can they not stand on their own roots? They can, and they do. But you cannot neglect  The environmental variables that make them happen. So don't comment on ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Predictability Plays Spoilsport

"Comfort's journey from the familiar to the unpredictable..." In the age of AI, if you are an AI Engineer like I am, you would swear by predictability. It's indispensable. We will find patterns in your genetic tree. We'll find them even in your whim of a Gulab Jamun or Barfi. We'll try to connect dots that are distant by miles. Yet, I'm here to tell you that we cannot afford predictability today. Sounds crazy and totally contradictory right? But I can be weird.   I'm here to tell you about randomness. I want you to experience it too. Well, you're smart people, readers. I may not be as smart. You know why we can't enforce patterns.   Someone will read them. Someone will exploit them.  Someone will feed them to an AI (Tool) and figure out what to do with them. You see what I mean? I'm being random. Randomness is not entirely useless.  I want to be equally random. I am stupid, gullible, naive and I'm wandering... You can say that I can be ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Clandestine

Sometimes we wait too long, To speak our minds. We let lingering truths linger, We let sporadic clocks, chime.. We allow patient seams to fritter away Like a sparrow does with the timber of the tune That she was shrouded by; shrill words tearing  Ears, each word she utters, careful, today. While the first day it was a free reign, until Some unctuous winds carried to her, criticism. Just the same way as copper utensils in a house Of steel, are anyone's delight, until bronzed,  With wear and use, both are the victims Of sundry needs and glances. Just the same way, some things, Are stowed away in careful pockets Because they have borne a lot of perusing When kept in the open.  Like love. Like hurt. Like envy. Like silence. Trust and truth are two things I can list, That are given, that are l'habitude. I tell the truth because it is, it exists, It is what I perceive, it is what I've lived.. And I keep your trust, because I've learnt That it'll help you keep mine, it wil...
Post a Comment
Read more