THE GRACE OF KEHWA

    

The earliest memory I have of pain is from when I was around six or seven years old.  I was quite unwell with what was probably a really nasty case of tonsillitis.  What I remember most about the pain is how it felt like someone had poured shards of glass into my throat and even the slightest of movements led to the most excruciating pain. Even now, four decades later, whenever I am down with a cold and a sore throat, I often, instinctively compare the pain I have to the pain I had during that particular episode. I was probably laid up in bed for a week at most but for a six-year-old for whom movement is life, it felt like an eternity.  Even though I remember the distress that had taken hold of me, there was also relief.  Every hour or so my mother would bring a small cup filled with a translucent, golden amber coloured liquid.  Even before she had walked in, I knew it was kehwa – a drink made by boiling cinnamon and cardamom until it turns a beautiful golden colour and it is sweetened with sugar or honey. As the mixture bubbled away on the stove, the scent of cardamoms and cinnamon would waft through the entire house.  Kehwa has a very distinctive scent, the most beautiful love child of cardamom and cinnamon.  She would bring a small cup of kehwa and spoon the mixture into my mouth.  Sometimes she would add a couple of peppercorns and sometimes a sliver of ginger – both a remedy against colds in particular, and misery in general. As she fed me the soothing mixture, she would often tell me the story of how kehwa came into existence. 

Many, many centuries ago, before time was something you could trap into a clock, there was a land where all living beings existed peacefully. In this world there was a gentle forest where all manner of things grew and in the heart of this gentle forest beneath the shade of a beautiful cinnamon tree, a cardamom plant grew.  As it grew, nourished by the gentle forest, it became more and more aware of cinnamon, without whose shade it would perish.  He would spend his days looking up and admiring her beautiful ovate leaves and her tiny blood red flowers.  Though they both spent considerable time together, it was cinnamon who plucked up the courage and confessed her love for the tender hearted cardamom.  Cardamom upon hearing cinnamons declaration of love was so overcome with emotion that he spread his roots closer towards hers and over time, their roots became so intertwined that you couldn’t tell one from the other.  They lived together in love for centuries.  One day when time had finally been trapped into clocks, a witch arrived at the forest, looking for herbs and medicinal plants when she noticed the pair.  After investigating thoroughly and taking home some of the fruit that both offered, she decided they were worth taking home and growing on her farm.  She knelt down to try and take each one out with the root still intact, when she discovered they were so intertwined that if she tried to separate them, both would perish.  Now she was a good witch, the kind who knew that you did not split what nature had brought together, so she did what every good witch does, she spoke to them.  She told them of the healing properties each held and asked for guidance.  They told her to come back after sometime. This was something they needed to decide together. For days they conversed until they both agreed upon a solution.

‘You may take us but whenever you use our fruits, they must be used together’, Cinnamon said.

The good witch agreed and assured them that their wish would always be honoured. 

When the good witch came back and dug up the cardamom plant, she found that he had moved his roots away and they were no longer intertwined with those of cinnamon.  She took them both home and planted them separately.  They took root where they were planted and they bloomed.  The good witch used their fruits and invented concoctions and mixtures which became famous for their healing properties.  One of those concoctions was kehwa.  It cured colds, upset stomachs, agitated minds and broken hearts. Her fame grew and people from all parts of the world travelled to be healed by her mixtures.  The recipes travelled but in every recipe she kept her promise.  Every mixture she made, she kept them together.  That was how it came to be that you used both together.  It became a sacred covenant between the lovers and the healer and even today it endures. 

‘So you see’, my mother would say, spooning the last bit of kehwa into my mouth, ‘it is not just a healing mixture you drink, it is a testament of love’.

It is story I have loved the most, of all the stories I have heard as a child and as I grew different parts of this story stood out at different times in my life.  As a child I loved the idea of talking plants. As a teenager the love story became more relevant and I too would pine for a love like that.  Now, as a woman of a certain age, the healing that comes from faith bring me immense joy and sometimes nowadays when I too spoon some kehwa into the mouths of my little babies, I tell them not just about the love between cinnamon and cardamom but the grace, compassion and healing that has continued ever since.  

   

 

  

Bio for the blog - Saba Mahjoor is a freelance writer.  Her column 'A Little Life' is published by The Hindu. She lives in England with her husband, two children and an army of rogue squirrels.

( This is the 4th WEEK -11TH YEAR-GUESTPOST SERIES - POST -4) 

THE STORY OF HANUMAN - A Colourful Journey Through the Life of Hanuman

  

 

The Story of Hanuman, published by Westland Books, with the script by Dr. Rajeev Tamhankar and art by Ashiq Shanavas, is a comic book dealing with the life of Hanuman.

The book is colourful and the font size was legible and the story is set with clear ideas and flow is quite smooth till the end.

The story of Hanuman begins when Anjaana gets the curse to become a monkey. Thereafter her marriage and the birth of Hanuman, his childhood times and his siblings were well discussed which will draw children to get to know more Hanuman.

Then the story moves towards how Hanuman gets his facial change, and curse from a sage that he will be unable to regain his powers till someone reminds him about it. How Hanuman happens to meet the brothers – Rama and Lakshmana. How he helps to fetch Sita Ma and the mighty effort of Hanuman in bringing in Sanjeevani were all beautiful in both words and illustrations.

Then finally how Hanuman proves his love and affection to Rama and Sita by tearing his chest is simply adoring in the book. Children will enjoy it thoroughly and seemingly fit to close the chapter of Ramayana.

Then the book moves to Mahabharata and the relationship of Bhima and Hanuman is well depicted, carrying the story diligently and how the two understand each other and carry on well in their future.

The book is quite intriguing and the message it gives through the story is immense and well-crafted keeping in mind the children for whom it is meant.

Final Thoughts

The Story of Hanuman takes children through the important episodes of Hanuman's life in a colourful and engaging manner. The combination of words and illustrations makes the story easy to follow, while the movement from Ramayana to Mahabharata adds another interesting dimension to the book.

A book that children will enjoy thoroughly while getting to know more about Hanuman, his devotion, his strength and his relationship with Rama, Sita and Bhima.

THE TOADSTOOL HOUSE

I wish I lived in a toadstool house,
Beneath an old oak tree,
With a tiny door and a chimney pot,
And windows—one, two, three.

 

I'd play with each wee squirrel,
Who chanced to come my way,
I'd get to know the woodland birds,
And feed them every day.

 

And if you ever wandered by,
I'd ask you in to tea,
Inside my little toadstool house,
Beneath the old oak tree.

When Duty Goes Unnoticed and Volunteering Gets Appreciation

  

 

Humans love appreciation. They need it too. That is why I sometimes think there are more volunteers than dutiful people—like daughters, sons, sisters, brothers or grandchildren.

When one is dutiful, they often don't receive appreciation. They are generalised as, “They did their duty only.” That is considered a must, something expected, something regular and routine, and nothing more.

But when he or she volunteers, they are lauded and appreciated. So, do they leave their duties and throng to be volunteers? Though it is a duty, he or she didn't skip it and followed it well, with heart and soul and utmost dedication. But because it is a duty, it is taken for granted.

A dutiful person is made to feel that what they are doing is regular, routine and something they are supposed to do. Their effort becomes invisible simply because it is their responsibility.

But humans love appreciation.

A few words of appreciation can make a person feel that their efforts have been noticed and valued. This makes me wonder: If everyone sticks to their duties, would we require so many volunteers? People sometimes choose volunteering over their own duties because volunteers are appreciated, while dutiful people are taken for granted. Not everyone does this, of course, but it may happen in many cases.

We are not sure how many volunteers take extra time, after completing their own duties, to do volunteer work. There may certainly be many who genuinely give their time and effort beyond their responsibilities, and their contribution deserves appreciation. But what about the people who quietly fulfil their responsibilities every single day?

What does the data say about everyday duties?

India's Time Use Survey 2024 gives us an interesting picture of unpaid work within households. Among people aged 15–59, 41% of women participated in caregiving for household members, compared with 21.4% of men. Women who participated in caregiving spent about 140 minutes a day, compared with 74 minutes for men. Female participants in unpaid domestic services spent about 305 minutes a day on such activities.  These figures don't tell us whether people choose volunteering because they receive appreciation. There is no such direct conclusion from the survey. But they do show how much unpaid work is being done within households.

Much of this work is part of everyday life. It may therefore be seen as duty, responsibility, regular work and something that has to be done, rather than something that deserves appreciation. And this is where my question begins.

Take cleanliness, for example

If everyone keeps their homes clean and also takes responsibility for keeping their surroundings clean, wouldn't our surroundings automatically be clean?

Then, is a mass cleaning drive necessary?

Of course, cleanliness is not only an individual's responsibility. Waste collection, transportation, segregation and proper disposal also require community systems and public infrastructure.

The Swachh Survekshan Grameen 2023–24, which covered 17,304 villages and around 2.6 lakh households, found that 39.9% of surveyed households reported segregating biodegradable and non-biodegradable waste, while 92.7% reported having some arrangement for disposing of biodegradable waste. At the same time, only 45% of the surveyed villages had exclusive or shared vehicles for solid-waste collection and transportation.  So individual duty and collective systems both matters. But my question remains:

If every one of us does our part regularly, responsibly and sincerely, would we need as many special drives and volunteer efforts?

 

 

Duty or volunteering?

The same applies to families. If daughters, sons, sisters, brothers and grandchildren take care of their responsibilities towards their family members with love and dedication, perhaps there would be less need for someone else to step in as a volunteer. The irony is that the person who has been doing their duty all along may not receive appreciation because “they are only doing their duty.” But the moment the same person volunteers to do something beyond their responsibility, they may be appreciated and applauded.

Why?

Because volunteering sounds like something extra. Duty sounds like something compulsory.

But does compulsory mean that it deserves no appreciation?

A person who follows their duty with heart and soul and utmost dedication may be doing far more than someone who simply fulfils it because they have to. Perhaps we need to change the way we look at duty. A dutiful person should not be made to feel that their contribution is regular, routine and nothing special. Their consistency, responsibility and dedication also deserve recognition.

Volunteering has its own importance, and volunteers certainly deserve appreciation. But appreciation should not make us overlook those who are quietly doing their duties every day. Perhaps the bigger question is:

If everyone faithfully did their duties, with care and dedication, would we need so many volunteers? Maybe the answer lies not in having more volunteers, but in having more people who do their duties well and appreciate those who do them. Because sometimes, a dutiful person is not looking for praise. They only want their efforts to be noticed.

(This blogpost is a part of Blogchatter's Half-Marathon from a team member of Piysuh Plotters' details here: https://www.theblogchatter.com/campaign-registrations/the-blogchatter-half-marathon-2026-version-2)

We Need to Read Well to Write Well. But What Should We Read?

    

 

“We need to read well to write well.”
We have heard this so many times that it almost sounds like a rule we learnt in school.

But have we ever stopped to ask the next question?

What should we actually read if we want to become better writers?

Is reading everything enough? Should we read only literary classics? Should we read fiction, poetry, biographies, history, newspapers—or simply whatever catches our attention? Perhaps some answers can be found by looking at what accomplished writers themselves read and recommend.

Ruskin Bond: Read widely—and read for pleasure

Ruskin Bond has often connected reading directly with writing. In an interview, he said that young people who want to write should first become great readers: “Read well, write well” was his philosophy. He also said that reading teaches us to write.  His own reading journey is interesting because it wasn't restricted to one kind of literature. As a young reader, Bond read Rabindranath Tagore, Subodh Ghosh, Mulk Raj Anand and R. K. Narayan. Later, he said that he read more nonfiction—particularly biographies, the lives of writers and interesting history books. He also enjoyed memoirs and, when reading fiction, lighter detective stories.  That tells us something important.

We don't necessarily become better writers by reading only "serious" books.

A biography can teach us about a life. History can give us context. A detective story can teach us suspense. A memoir can teach us voice. A children's story can teach us simplicity. And perhaps a book we read purely for pleasure can teach us something that a book we read with a pencil in hand cannot.

Shashi Tharoor: Don't ignore what came before

Shashi Tharoor approaches reading from another interesting angle. In an interview, he explained that no great work of literature should simply be excluded from a scholar's reading list. His reasoning is that writers need to understand what came before them because earlier works influenced later writers. A well-read person, he suggested, understands the possibilities that previous writers have already explored.  His own recommendations are wonderfully varied.

Among his selections are The Discovery of India by Jawaharlal Nehru, One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez, The Heavy Weather by P. G. Wodehouse, The Saga of Khassak by O. V. Vijayan and The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by Milan Kundera.

He has also recommended works such as the Mahabharata, including P. Lal's transcreation, and Autobiography of a Yogi among nonfiction reading.

Look at that range: Epic literature-History.-Magical realism.-Humour-.Regional literature-.Philosophy-.Autobiography. There is no single shelf called “Books Writers Must Read.”

And then there is Vikram Seth

Vikram Seth himself is a wonderful example of why a writer's reading need not remain inside one literary box. He has written a vast family novel, a novel in verse, poetry, travel writing and works for younger readers. His writing moves between forms, which itself reminds us that reading different forms can expand our understanding of what writing can do.

His A Suitable Boy, for instance, is a huge novel, but its scale is part of its appeal: families, relationships, society, politics, culture and the everyday lives of people come together in one enormous narrative. And perhaps that is another lesson for a writer:

Read something that teaches you how to observe people. Read something that makes you notice dialogue, that makes you stop at a sentence because it is beautifully written., that introduces you to a world you have never known, that makes you laugh ,that makes you uncomfortable and makes you think.

Read poetry even if you don't write poetry.

Read children's literature even if you are an adult.

Read nonfiction even if you normally choose fiction.

Read in translation. Read writers from different regions and languages. And, occasionally, read something completely outside your comfort zone.

So, what books do we need to read?

Perhaps the better question is not:

“Which books should every writer read?”

It is:

“What kind of reading will make me a better observer, thinker and communicator?”

The answer could be different for every writer.

If you write personal essays, memoirs and biographies may help you understand voice and memory. If you into writing fiction, novels and short stories can show you different ways of constructing characters and worlds. If you like to pen poetry, poetry itself becomes an endless classroom. If you write about society, history and nonfiction can give depth to your observations. If you love to write for children, children's literature is certainly not something to outgrow.

And if you write about everyday life—as many bloggers do—perhaps the most useful reading can sometimes be found in books that teach us to look closely at ordinary things. The best writers often make ordinary things worth noticing.

Reading is not a competition

There is also something else worth remembering. We don't have to prove that we are well-read by producing a list of hundreds of books. Reading is not a race. Nor should a writer feel guilty because a particular "must-read" classic has remained unread on the shelf.

Ruskin Bond's approach of reading for pleasure is a useful reminder here. And Tharoor's wide-ranging reading shows us the value of curiosity and variety.Perhaps the ideal reading list is not one prescribed by somebody else.

It is a growing list that changes as we change.

One book leads us to another.
One writer introduces us to another.
One subject opens the door to another language, another culture or another period of history.

And somewhere along the way, without our consciously trying to do so, reading begins to influence our writing.

Our vocabulary grows, sentences become more natural, observations become sharper, understanding of people becomes deeper,  imagination gets wider. And we slowly discover our own voice.

Read well. Then write.

So, yes, we need to read well to write well.

But perhaps reading well doesn't mean reading only "great books".

It means reading curiously, widely and attentively.

Read the books you love, books you don't understand immediately, books recommended by writers you admire, beyond your favourite genre. your own country's literature, Read translations. Read old books and new books. And sometimes, pick up a book simply because the first sentence makes you want to know what comes next. Because ultimately, every book we read leaves something behind.

A word, An idea, A rhythm., A character, A question, A way of seeing. And perhaps that is how reading slowly becomes writing.

What books have helped you become a better reader—or a better writer? Which writer's reading recommendations have introduced you to a book you would otherwise have missed?

( Note: The recommendations above are based on interviews and published recommendation lists by the writers; they are not presented as a definitive “must-read” list.)

(This blogpost is a part of blogchatter's half marathon from a team member of Piyush plotters' details here : https://www.theblogchatter.com/campaign-registrations/the-blogchatter-half-marathon-2026-version-2)

We Speak With Our Tongue, Don’t We? The Curious World of Tongue Twisters

   

 

We see with our eyes. We hear with our ears. We taste with our tongue. We smell with our nose. We feel with our skin.

 These are among the first things we learnt in our kindergarten. These tell us about our five senses. But for children at that age, I always thought, we speak with our tongue rather than our mouth. For many years, I continued to believe that I was quite correct. Then, when I reached perhaps Class 2 or 3 — I remember it only roughly — tongue twisters came around in the classroom. And that, I thought, proved my point! If they were called tongue twisters, surely we speak with our tongue!

After a few more years, and reaching high school, I learnt that speaking is not quite so simple. We speak using the mouth, tongue, throat and several other parts involved in producing speech. Then came words such as phonetics, and perhaps gutturals — those deeper sounds produced towards the back of the mouth and throat. So my childhood understanding of “we speak with our tongue” was not entirely wrong. The tongue really does play an important role in articulation. But speech is a much bigger team effort. And somewhere along the way, tongue twisters made language even more interesting.

So, what exactly are tongue twisters?

A tongue twister is a phrase or sentence that is deliberately difficult to say quickly and accurately, usually because it contains similar or repeated sounds.

Take the famous:

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.

Try saying it once.

Now twice.

Now three times, a little faster.

Suddenly, Peter Piper doesn't seem quite as innocent as he did!

Tongue twisters often use alliteration, repetition and similar sounds. The difficulty comes because our speech organs have to move rapidly from one sound to another, sometimes between sounds that are very similar. And that is precisely what makes them fun.

Where did tongue twisters come from?

Interestingly, tongue twisters are not a modern classroom invention. One of the best-known examples, Peter Piper, was printed in London in 1813 in a book by John Harris, titled Peter Piper's Practical Principles of Plain and Perfect Pronunciation. The book contained a tongue twister corresponding to each letter of the alphabet.

The fascinating part is that the rhyme may have been known orally even before 1813. So John Harris may not have invented the rhyme himself; he appears to have brought an existing form of children's wordplay into print.

There is also an interesting story about the identity of Peter Piper. Some have suggested that he may have been inspired by Pierre Poivre, an eighteenth-century French horticulturist associated with spices. The connection is attractive because poivre is French for pepper and piper comes from the Latin word for pepper. But this remains a theory rather than an established fact.  So even a simple children's tongue twister has a little history, mystery and wordplay hiding behind it.

Why are they called tongue twisters?

Because the tongue seems to get itself into a knot! But technically, it is not just the tongue that is working. When we speak, different parts of the speech system have to coordinate precisely. The tongue, lips, teeth, palate, jaw and other structures help us produce different sounds. A tongue twister forces these movements to happen quickly and repeatedly.

That is why:

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers

can become:

Peter Piper picked a peck of...

and then suddenly—

Peter P... P... pepper...

The brain knows what we want to say, but the speech organs have to keep up!

From classroom fun to pronunciation practice

Perhaps this is why tongue twisters have survived for generations. They are learning disguised as fun. Children don't necessarily feel that they are doing pronunciation practice. They are simply trying to say something funny without making a mistake.

They may compete with friends:

“Can you say it three times?”

Then someone says it faster.

Someone makes a mistake.

Everyone laughs.

And they try again.

That repetition is valuable.

A 2023 study published in Foreign Language Annals compared tongue-twister practice with ordinary sentences for learners of Swedish as a second language. The study found that the tongue-twister group showed better development in the pronunciation features being practised, and most participants viewed the activity positively.  So what looked like a silly classroom game can actually have a serious linguistic purpose.

What can tongue twisters do for children?

1. They make pronunciation practice enjoyable

Pronunciation drills can sound rather serious. Tongue twisters make them playful. A child who may not want to repeat a difficult sound ten times may happily repeat a funny sentence ten times just to master it.

2. They make children listen carefully

Before saying a tongue twister correctly, children have to hear the difference between sounds.

Is it ship or sip?

Is it she sells or she shells?

The ear and the mouth have to work together.

3. They improve awareness of sounds

Tongue twisters draw attention to individual sounds and sound combinations. This is one reason they are useful in pronunciation teaching and phonological awareness activities. Recent early-childhood research also identifies tongue twisters as an activity that can support articulation and verbal fluency.

4. They build vocabulary

Not every tongue twister uses familiar words.

Take Peter Piper again.

What is a peck?

Why are the peppers pickled?

What does picked a peck mean?

A child may begin with a sentence that sounds funny and end up learning several new words. That is one of the lovely things about language: one word can lead to another, and one sentence can open the door to a little lesson.

 

5. They encourage confidence

There is something satisfying about finally saying a difficult tongue twister correctly.

First:

Peter Piper picked...

Then:

Peter Piper picked a peck...

And eventually, perhaps:

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers!

That small success can make a child more willing to speak aloud. And speaking aloud matters. The more comfortable children become with saying words, the less frightening it can feel to participate in a classroom, read aloud or speak before others.

And what about writing?

This is where I would make a small distinction. Tongue twisters directly practise speech and pronunciation, not writing itself. There is not enough evidence to say that merely practising tongue twisters automatically makes someone a better writer.

But they can certainly contribute to some of the skills that a writer needs.

They make children notice:

• sounds,
• rhythm,
• repetition,
• word patterns,
• alliteration,
• vocabulary,
• sentence structure and
• the musical quality of language.

And writers need to notice words.

A child who enjoys “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers” may eventually begin noticing how words sound together and how repetition can make a sentence memorable. That can become useful in poems, stories, advertisements, speeches and creative writing. In other words, tongue twisters may not teach writing directly, but they can make children more curious about language — and that curiosity can travel into writing.

Tongue twisters are not only for children

We usually associate them with children because that is where many of us first encountered them. But adults use them too. Actors, public speakers, teachers, broadcasters and language learners sometimes use them as speech exercises. They can be particularly useful for becoming conscious of articulation and pronunciation.

And, of course, they are simply fun.

Try saying:

She sells seashells by the seashore.

Or:

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Now try them faster. The child in us comes back immediately!

From five senses to one funny question

Coming back to where I started:

We see with our eyes.
We hear with our ears.
We taste with our tongue.
We smell with our nose.
We feel with our skin.

And as a child, I wondered:

Don't we speak with our tongue?

Years later, phonetics gave me a much more complicated answer. But perhaps the simpler childhood answer still has some truth in it. The tongue is one of the important players in speech. And then came tongue twisters — those wonderfully mischievous little sentences that made me realise that speaking is not merely about knowing words. It is also about moving, listening, repeating, experimenting and having fun with those words. Perhaps that is their greatest charm. A tongue twister may begin as a classroom game.

It can become a pronunciation exercise.

It can introduce new vocabulary.

It can make children laugh.

It can build the confidence to speak.

And somewhere along the way, it may even make us fall a little more in love with language itself. After all, language doesn't always have to be serious to teach us something. Sometimes, we just need to twist our tongue!

 

Now it's your turn! Do you have a favourite tongue twister that you can say any number of times without making a mistake? Or perhaps a fun memory associated with tongue twisters? And do you remember which writer or book first introduced you to the world of tongue twisters?

( This blogpost is  a  part of Blogchatter's Half marathon  from a team member of Piyush Plotter's. details here ; https://www.theblogchatter.com/campaign-registrations/the-blogchatter-half-marathon-2026-version-2)