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Tag: bibliophile

September 29, 2018September 29, 2018thedoctorreads

The House of God by Samuel Shem

July 16, 2018July 16, 2018thedoctorreads

“The Sensational Life & Death of Qandeel Baloch” by Sanam Maher

March 7, 2018March 7, 2018thedoctorreads

Home & Other Debris by Orooj e Zafar

October 7, 2017October 7, 2017thedoctorreads

The Surgeon by Salman Waqar

August 23, 2017August 23, 2017thedoctorreads

The Light Blue Jumper by Sidra F. Sheikh

July 27, 2017July 27, 2017thedoctorreads

Exit West by Mohsin Hamid

July 20, 2017July 20, 2017thedoctorreads

The Melancholy Streets of Ismail’s City – An Interview with Zohaib Kazi

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3. Favorite lines: I have heard it said we are the uninvited. We are the unwelcome. We should take our misfortune elsewhere. But I hear your mother’s voice, over the tide, and she whispers in my ear, “Oh, but if they saw my darling. Even half of what you have. If only they saw. They would say kinder things, surely.” . . . #bookworm #bookblog #bookstagrampak #bibliophile #amreading #booklover #currentlyreading #bookstagrampakistan #bookaddict #booklove #bookinsta #bookhaul #bookobsessed #bookphotography #bookeading #booktube #epicreads #igreads #khibookswap #kbsbookreview #vsco #vsco_pakistan #flatlay #pakistan #mybookishculture #khaledhosseini #seaprayer
2. Khaled Hosseini taps into that same feeling of powerlessness, like Mohsin Hamid did in ‘Exit West’, in a brief narrative poem titled ‘Sea Prayer’, in which a father tells the story of his past to his young son, as they wait on the murky shores of an uncertain future. While many die-hard Hosseini fans will be disappointed in the fact that this is not the novel they were looking forward to, you can rest assured that this slim little book is not by any means redundant: proceeds from the purchase of each copy support the work of the UNHCR and Mr Hosseini’s own charitable foundation. Even on its own, this little book is one that you’ll find yourself thinking about long after you’ve finished the last page. It’s certainly one that made me deeply appreciative of the blessings I have in my life and the fragile peace that keeps the real horrors of the world at bay. . . . #bookworm #bookblog #bookstagrampak #bibliophile #amreading #booklover #currentlyreading #bookstagrampakistan #bookaddict #booklove #bookinsta #bookhaul #bookobsessed #bookphotography #bookeading #booktube #epicreads #igreads #khibookswap #kbsbookreview #vsco #vsco_pakistan #flatlay #pakistan #mybookishculture #khaledhosseini #seaprayer
1. It’s hard to review a book that’s shorter than the entire length of your review. It’s even harder to remain objective in reviewing a book that was inspired by the haunting death of Alan Kurdi, the three-year-old toddler whose body was found lying on the shores of a Turkish beach in 2015. Ask any parent and they’d tell you: that small body could’ve been their own son or daughter, lying there as though sleeping, tuckered out after a long day of playing. Except Alan Kurdi would never wake up, would never grow up. A common argument I saw online, in the wake of Alan Kurdi’s drowning was what kind of parent puts their child on a boat like that? The answer is best found in Mohsin Hamid’s ‘Exit West’: a parent who’s so terrified of what’s happening on their own homeland that the sea offers an escape. Like Moses’s mother when she cast him in the waters of the Nile, you hope your child will find sanctuary and a better place to call home. But this is no longer the era of miracles or faith, is it? . . . #bookworm #bookblog #bookstagrampak #bibliophile #amreading #booklover #currentlyreading #bookstagrampakistan #bookaddict #booklove #bookinsta #bookhaul #bookobsessed #bookphotography #bookeading #booktube #epicreads #igreads #khibookswap #kbsbookreview #vsco #vsco_pakistan #flatlay #pakistan #mybookishculture #khaledhosseini #seaprayer
I'm so over books like this. AND YET I STILL KEEP READING THEM. I'm so not going to invest any more emotions clearly meant to make a cash cow while also killing it at the box office. YET HERE I AM, CRYING MY EFFING EYES OUT. Ah, YA, you agonizing little twerp. That's it, that's basically my review :P Not going to lie, if you've read The Fault in Our Stars or seen the film or even lolled at the memes flooding the internet, then this book will be all too familiar territory to you. Yes, it's got a great plot, a great bunch of really believable characters and yes, the inevitable film will also be great. But... But, why are authors choosing to play it safe in this particular sub-genre of YA? Why does it feel like if you've read one TFiOS, you've read 'em all? Why are all the characters so one dimensional? If you've read 'The Hate U Give', this particular aspect will jump out even more to you. Adversity comes in may forms and I'm glad there are so many books out now that show teenagers, girls in particular, overcoming these hurdles in their path with both grit in grace. Believe me, when I was your age, all I had was Sweet Valley High. But there are various forms of grief and trauma, and adversity comes to us all in many different guises. But, I'm not going to sit here and judge any one for reacting differently to one particular book while decrying the other as boring or whatever. I held that opinion for a long time but I realized it was counter-productive. The point is, that if a book helps you come to terms with your grief, then it is a book that is good. In that respect, this is a good book. Predictable, yes. Corny, yes. But, pure. A book that I have no doubt many younger readers will definitely enjoy. Favorite Lines: “We are all alone, trapped in these bodies and our own minds, and whatever company we have in this life is only fleeting and superficial.”
I’ve started to think of Neil Gaiman as less a literary giant and more as a much beloved cup of warm tea: tea doesn’t judge, doesn’t ask questions and more importantly, tea is always there for you. After another horrendous day at work and an equally horrendous commute back, both my daughter and I were feeling decidedly at odd with each other. An easy out would have been Netflix for her and a cup of tea for me, but somehow I thought this could be as good a time to relax together as any, so out came my till then unread copy of ‘Fortunately, the Milk’ and wasn’t that fortunate for us, indeed. While any four-year-old will love the sing-song narrative and it’s cast of hugely unbelievable and lovable characters, the adult in me was delighted with not just the apt pop culture references but the sly little turns of phrase that mark Neil Gaiman as a master of his craft. No one else can quite capture the musicality of language the way he can while still keeping it light and fun. The incredibly nutty turn of events keeps the plot racing while the emergence of one brilliant character after another makes you root endlessly for the preternaturally calm father who just wants to get back to his kids with the milk from the corner shop for their breakfast-- and his tea! It’s a slim little book, easily finished in one sitting and if you’ve got a particularly imaginative little one of your own, you will love the experience of reading this to them—the questions alone are going to be priceless. Older readers like myself may be reminded of Roald Dahl and his own particular position in the Arena of the Absurd, but I think I can safely place this little gem of a book nestled between my copies of Mr Dahl’s work—while the adults of Mr Dahl’s world run the spectrum from overtly angelic to completely demonic, Mr Gaiman’s adults are often bemused people, much like us. Safe to say, this is one book that you'll find yourself reaching for, one rainy afternoon after another. Favorite lines: “I think that there should have been some nice wumpires," said my sister, wistfully. "Nice, handsome, misunderstood wumpires." "There were not," said my father.
Not going to lie—Rupi Kaur’s book was one long cringe for me. Admittedly, there were moments where I found myself nodding along to her words but for the most part, I found myself skimming through the book. I don’t say this lightly. I say this as someone who has studied, loved and published poetry for the better part of a decade. Rupi Kaur’s collection of poems faces a very fundamental problem—it needs a good editor. That’s the worst drawback of self-publishing, not having an external opinion on what works and what could be improved. When you are your own editor, you become an echoing chamber of one: you. In such a scenario, not only are other view-points and narratives ignored, they become unfairly distorted. ‘Milk and Honey’ has been labelled as too Tumblr-esque by many reviewers on Goodreads, and it’s an assessment that I will not deny. Many have also repeatedly pointed out that the writer’s Breaking Of sentences Like this Does Not A poem Make And I have no disagreement to offer on that front either. Line-breaks are a particularly favorite aspect of poetry for me, the technical details of which I won’t bore you with, but suffice to say: if I was Ms Kaur’s editor I would have gone over a ton of those line-breaks with a pack of red pens. But here’d the thing: in an age where Instagram poets abound and no one wants to dedicate the time it takes to read, let alone, study poetry, is it so bad that a writer has popularized the form? Shouldn’t we be thanking Rupi Kaur for bringing the conversation back to poetry and its fiery life-force: trauma? I, for one, do thank her. I thank her for writing something raw and honest, for brilliantly exposing the very real hypocrisies that lie at the heart of modern living, and loving. I have no doubt that Ms Kaur’s collection will resonate with many younger readers, particularly those who may encounter her as their first poet. My hope is that she will not be the last poet they read. Coming from a South Asian heritage, where giants like Faiz Ahmed Faiz and Agha Shahid Ali reign supreme, Rupi Kaur’s work lacks context. Kahan Parveen Shakir, aur Anita Desai. Kahan Rupi Kaur.

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