A Year of Good Reading

It has been a most fascinating and rewarding year for me as a reader 📖 and book reviewer. Especially, after I joined Reedsy Discovery as a reviewer, books 📚 became an integral part of my daily schedule. You can read the book reviews here: https://reedsy.com/discovery/user/aneeshashewani/reviews

Then, I started receiving author review copies (ARC) from the Himalayan Book Club and discovered new Indian writings in English. It was the impetus I needed to dedicate time to my love for books. I am hoping for 2022 to be as enriching. I have also been contacted by writers who wanted me to read and review their books. I graciously accepted their offer and already have books on my to-be-read (TBR) pile.

Reading has slowed down a bit as I finish some professional courses and prepare for exciting and new work challenges in the New Year but I hope to see another glorious list like this on GoodReads at the end of 2022.

Barriers

There is a crack in the wall
I scrape it with fingernails
Chipping out a bit of paint
I feel the plaster crumbling;
Or is it just brittle cuticles
From a hand tired of gnawing
At barriers mocking me with
Promises of light and warmth
Beyond the dent in the enclosure

Winter blog posts for WriteFluence

I participated in the @WriteFluence December Blog and Win challenge by penning down 3 blog posts overflowing with Christmas nostalgia and personal experiences.

Do read, comment, and vote for all three. I am sure you will enjoy the reading experience:

This season, take away the winter blues

Christmas cards – Can we revive the tradition?

The Aroma of Christmas

Heal

Heal

It was more purple than green
An ugly gash refusing to heal
Salve nor balm, rest nor restrain
Strong enough to erase the pain
A bruise so blue, a crimson tear
Sweet hurt with trembling fear
Yet, I tend to these injuries deep
Purge the venom, not let it seep
Into crevices of my soul so grim
Discard memories like dead skin

Repaired

It hurt a bit, the little scratch
When a vagrant nail scraped
With nonchalant smugness;
What pained more, was the yarn
Pulled out from a cozy space
It stared at me, pleading repair
It’s world ready to unravel
With a stitch now haywire

I held the woolen memory
Lovingly in my warm hand
Still smelling of mothballs
Just subdued by gentle wash;
Grabbed a frigid crochet hook
Delicately weaved in the strand
Tied a neat knot, pulled it tight
Tucked it all away, out of sight