“You never really leave a place or person you love, part of them you take with you, leaving a part of yourself behind.” The perfect lines to begin my ode to Stockholm, the city where I spent the most amazing eighteen months of my life. I have loved Stockholm in all its moods, maybe sometimes a little less and at other times a little more, but have loved it nonetheless. Work took me to Stockholm in late autumn of 2011. The fall colours were still there, the red, brown, gold leaves on the trees and in colourful carpets on the ground, a very pleasant and welcoming sight. The beauty of Stockholm lies in its proximity to Nature. Undoubtedly, it is one of the most stunning capital cities in the world in this aspect. On a bright,sunny day the city might well be a painter’s lessons in different shades of blue and green. A year in Stockholm reveals the grandeur of the four seasons; spring, summer, autumn, winter p...
A friend in high school had once narrated an amusing anecdote about her Math tuition classes. Her teacher had explained a particular concept and had asked them to learn the related formulae by heart, learn them so well that they (the students) would be able to rattle them off at the snap of a finger at any time and at any place. To emphasize this part he had, apparently, given them quite a vivid example. "Suppose someone pushes you from the top of a thirty-storey building and in the midst of your free fall, a person pokes his head out of a fifteenth-storey window and asks you the formulae, you should be able to say them as fluently as you can sitting in my class " Well, speaking for myself, I don’t trust myself with formulae in such a cliffhanger of such a situation. However there is something which can be my forte in such a predicament. Leaving aside jumping from tall buildings, I’m pretty sure that if I am ever woken up on a freezing winter morning and asked to recite t...
" See Jehane...I remembered the roses ." These poignant words form an abiding part of my childhood memories. It is not as if I have always remembered this line or the story it came from. But,sometimes, like a ray of glimmering sunlight through dark clouds,or like the melody of a long-forgotten song, it used to come back me to me,crystal clear. It still does... It was in the early '90s. My elder sister was in standard ten, preparing for her public exams. Her English curriculum comprised of this book called 'A Treasury of Short Stories'. I was probably in standard three or four, and devouring her English books counted as one of my favorite occupations.This story was featured last in that book. The name 'Remember the Roses' immediately struck a cord in my heart. I found something very beautiful,yet heartbreaking, very close yet intangible in this name. What added a touch of mystery and enigma to this alluring title was the fact that information on th...
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