Photo credits @Priti Singh Defogging the islands Author Priti Singh tells NANDINI NAIR that "The Islands and Tribes of Andaman and Nicobar" clears popular misconceptions about the archipelago. "I wanted to defog mindsets. People view them with much trepidation." It's a coffee table book but meant to be seen and read. Priti Singh's "The Islands and Tribes of Andaman and Nicobar,"published by Prakash Books, and dedicated to the people of the islands, is an appreciation of their resilience and hope. Initially apprehensive about her husband's transfer, she ended up discovering and loving the islands. Having grown up in Zambia, she says, "The germ (for the outdoors) was laid there." Of the 300-odd islands she says fondly, "They have a siesta like atmosphere. It's a place that prefers to trot rather than gallop." In a relaxed mood, Singh describes her motive, "I wanted to defog mindsets. Many people view t...
वो बचपन की गली वो ईंटों से बिछा हुआ लाल रस्ता एक साइकल पे लदा कैन्वस का बस्ता अंगीठियों से उठता कोयले का धुआँ पीपल के नीचे वो छोटा सा कुआँ रुई की धुनाई की वो टन-टन आवाज़ रेडियो पर छिड़ता कोई फ़िल्मी साज़ वो हर एक लम्हा , आज भी आबाद है वो बचपन की गली , मुझे अब भी याद है II वो छतों से उड़तीं पतंगें हज़ार वो खिलोनों के ठेले , वो चलते बाज़ार वो लट्टू , वो कंचे , वो गिल्ली और डंडा वो मक्खन सफ़ेद , डबल रोटी और अंडा वो चिट्ठी के डिब्बे और डाकिये की घंटी वो पड़ोसी का बेटा और पतली सी संटी वो लड़का , अफ़सोस , आज भी बर्बाद है वो बचपन की गली , मुझे अब भी याद है II पुराने कपड़ों से होता बर्तन का व्यापार वो मूँगदाल की बड़ियाँ , वो पापड़ अचार एक काला सा फ़ोन , जो सबका था यार वो ट्रंक कौल के दिन और बुलावे हज़ार हम लोग , रामायण , नुक्कड , चित्रहार जब चैनल था एक , एकजुट परिवार वो दिन वापस आएँ , बस यही फ़रियाद है वो बचपन की गली , मुझे अब भी याद है II चारपाइयों पे रोज़ लगती मच्छरदानी उन सूती महलों में नानी की ...
Photo credits @Priti Singh My father always told me that there were two kinds of people in the world - the ones who overlooked every malady, every mystery, every mirth. People whose life graphs rarely fluctuated with the quotidian rhythm of human existence. And then there were others who looked beyond the physical response of the optic nerves, people who saw a meaning to everything even slightly more than mundane and sought answers to the many mysteries of life. As far as I was concerned, there was never a doubt about my typification. A string of broken toys and gadgets bore testimony to this inquisitive trait which had a habit of resurfacing every now and then. After living for three long years on the mellifluous islands of Andaman and Nicobar, surrounded by the ubiquitous coconut tree, I knew this was bound to happen again. Daily consumption of freshly plucked coconuts with mouth-watering kernel and the purest form of liquid available to man somehow seemed no longer enou...
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