The Birds

Blame it on good old Hitchcock - ever since I watched his fabulous thriller The Birds, I have never felt comfortable around those winged creatures. Seriously, does anyone know of birds spontaneously attacking humans, ever?

Click here to read a fascinating article about a unique bird hospital in India.

Sunday, this blog turns 1 year old, so stay tuned for a special multipost birthday celebration...

Flowers - Thinking Of Mumbai

When I posted about the Santa Monica Farmers' Market, Octavine requested I share pictures of the market's fresh cut flowers. So here are some beauties I spotted this past Wednesday.
These colorful, fragrant flowers seemed like a perfect prelude to Slumdog Millionaire, Danny Boyle's fabulous new flick set in Mumbai, which I was about to go and see when I happened upon the market. When I came out of the theater, moved and thrilled by that high energy and almost gaudy movie, I turned on NPR and hear about the horrendous attacks in Mumbai. My heart sank.

Years ago, while traveling in Ladakh (Indian part of the Himalayas), I had sweet, spicy tea in the garden of the small hotel where I was staying. The tea was delicious, and the company was even better. I sat with the hotel's owner, a round-faced Buddhist who served only vegetarian fare in his lovely establishment, as well as Hasan, a Muslim visitor, and my travel party, one of which is a Catholic.
Our conversation spurred in me a deep respect for India. This is the largest democracy in the world, the hotel owner reminded us; Muslims, Hindus, people of all religions live and vote here in peace and freedom. Look, here we are, people of various confessions, enjoying a cup of tea together and chatting peacefully. Granted, there were occasional spurts of violence, but things were being worked out, in this very young democracy.
I was filled with admiration for this country of tolerance, even while I realized that vision was a bit idyllic. Then on Wednesday I was filled with despair. It wasn't just about the bloodiness of the attacks; it was also because it shattered my loving, hopeful belief in India.

I am a Kashmiri

I am a Kashmiri was a leitmotif and a source of pride in the life of the extraordinary Indian stateswoman Indira Gandhi, whose biography I just read...
As a tribute to Indira's beloved Kashmir I thought I'd post on one of my favorite treats, Kashmiri tea. I first had it during a trip to Ladakh, in the Indian Himalayas. This regal, sugar-packed drink blends green tea and many spices, of which precious cardamon is my favorite. I keep my Kashmiri tea mix in a sleek wood box. What's your favorite spice?

In her memoir (worth reading!) Under My Skin, which I read last week, Doris Lessing says few novels can rival with well-researched, well-written biographies, and I may agree... My interest in historical bios was sparked by a gift, Carmen Cahill's excellent Bad Faith, on the life of the loathsome Darquier, a Frenchman who fervently promoted the German agenda in occupied France during WW2.
After Bad Faith, I read bios focusing primarily on the lives of incredible women: Anne Somerset's Elizabeth I, Caroline Weber's Queen of fashion (on Marie-Antoinette), Amanda Foreman's Georgiana and finally, Katherine Frank's Indira. All are remarkable reads.

The Snow Leopard

When I tell friends I've started collecting kids' books, they ask excitedly if I'm pregnant, so I'll preface this post with the words: no I'm not expecting. I just love children's books.
My latest purchase is The Snow Leopard, a superbly illustrated book on a topic that is dear to my heart, the bond between humans (in this case, a little girl) and animals. Snow leopards are extraordinary and elusive big cats that haunt the Himalayas. A few years ago, my mum took my sister and me on an unforgettable road trip through Ladakh (Indian Himalayas), where we reached 19,000ft (5800 m), visited mysterious Buddhist monasteries and marveled at the landscapes; Buddhist pilgrims leave countless prayer flags along the road, and if I too had tied one onto a tree, I would have wished for a glimpse at the beautiful feline creature.

Among the books I have collected so far are some of my childhood favorites, such as Le journal de Delphine (the story of a little ballerina!), novels by Judy Blume and Roald Dahl, and other gems like Charlotte's Web, poems for kids by one of my favorite poets, Joseph Brodsky, a Maurice Sendak, Alice in Wonderland...
I must get a copy of Enid Blyton's Noddy, the book that got me addicted to reading; so absorbed was I in my books as a child that one of my teachers told my mum she should take them away from me! Fortunately, she disregarded this advice.
What were your favorite books when you were a child?