A Christmas Carol ~ Charles Dickens (63 0f 2025)

A Christmas Carol ~ Charles Dickens was Published: 1843

Main Characters

• Ebenezer Scrooge – A miserly old man who despises Christmas and generosity.
• Bob Cratchit – Scrooge’s underpaid, kind-hearted clerk.
• Tiny Tim – Bob’s frail but cheerful son.
• Jacob Marley – Scrooge’s deceased business partner, now a ghost.
• Three Spirits – Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come.

Ebenezer Scrooge is cold-hearted, obsessed with money, and dismissive of Christmas cheer. He refuses charity and treats his clerk poorly.

On Christmas Eve, Jacob Marley’s ghost visits Scrooge, warning him that his greed will doom him. Marley says three spirits will come to offer redemption.

The Three Spirits

Christmas Past: Shows Scrooge his childhood and lost opportunities for love and happiness.

Christmas Present: Reveals joyful celebrations and the struggles of the Cratchit family, including Tiny Tim’s illness.

Christmas Yet to Come: Shows a bleak future—Tiny Tim’s death and Scrooge’s lonely grave.

Horrified, Scrooge vows to change. He wakes up on Christmas morning full of joy and generosity

Scrooge helps the Cratchit family, becomes kind and charitable, and embodies the spirit of Christmas.

Themes

Redemption: It’s never too late to change.

Generosity vs. Greed: True wealth lies in kindness.

Social Responsibility: Dickens critiques poverty and inequality.

Audere est facere @250th Birthday of Jane Austen

“Audere est facere” is a Latin phrase that means:

“To dare is to do.”

Word by word

audere — to dare

est — is

facere — to do / to make

Meaning in simple terms

It expresses the idea that having the courage to attempt something is itself an act. Action begins the moment one dares.

Common usage

Used as a motto encouraging bravery and initiative

Famously associated with Tottenham Hotspur Football Club

Often quoted in motivational or philosophical contexts

Example sentence

“She believed in audere est facere—that daring was the first step toward achievement.”

It was a dream come true moment to talk about one of my favorite authors. 

What I spoke about was 

Austen's Memory, 

Austen's Magic and 

Why Austen Matter even today. 

Unveiling the Enchanted Realms of Jane Austen’s Fiction

Thanks to the literary community of the Chinmaya school for this opportunity. 

 

The French Lieutenant's Woman ~ John Fowles

 

*The French Lieutenant's Woman

*by John Fowles* ~ Nandakishore Varma 

It's very rarely that a much-touted piece of literature lives up to its hype. And it's even rarer for it to exceed one's expectations.

But John Fowles managed it with this book.

Where do I even start? _The French Lieutenant's Woman_ is such a magnificent _tour-de-force_ that one is left speechless.

The story is very ordinary - your usual Victorian love triangle. The impoverished (not exactly - but definitely, not rich) aristocrat, enters into a marriage with the daughter of an upwardly mobile rich draper - only to realise later that his affections lie elsewhere; that too, with a "fallen" woman. Great recipe for a love tragedy.

But the author here decides to use this framework to make a broad commentary on the Victorian Age, on male-female relationships, on patriarchy, and on the human condition in general. He is the very antithesis of the "invisible narrator" in favour nowadays - he is not only visible, but omnipotent. He is telling you the tale, not showing it. Throughout the novel, you are listening to the voice of John Fowles.

The backdrop to the story is the Victorian age: an age of huge contrasts:

> What are we faced with in the nineteenth century? An age where woman was sacred; and where you could buy a thirteen-year-old girl for a few pounds - a few shillings, if you wanted her for only an hour or two. Where more churches were built than in the whole previous history of the country; and where one in sixty houses in London was a brothel (the modern ratio would be nearer one in six thousand). Where the sanctity of marriage (and chastity before marriage) was proclaimed from every pulpit, in every newspaper editorial and public utterance; and where never - or hardly ever - have so many great public figures, from the future king down, led scandalous private lives. Where the penal system was progressively humanized; and flagellation so rife that a Frenchman set out quite seriously to prove that the Marquis de Sade must have had English ancestry. Where the female body had never been so hidden from view; and where every sculptor was judged by his ability to carve naked women. Where there is not a single novel, play or poem of literary distinction that ever goes beyond the sensuality of a kiss, where Dr Bowdler (the date of whose death, 1825, reminds us that the Victorian ethos was in being long before the strict threshold of the age) was widely considered a public benefactor; and where the output of pornography has never been exceeded. Where the excretory functions were never referred to; and where the sanitation remained - the flushing lavatory came late in the age and remained a luxury well up to 1900-so primitive that there can have been few houses, and few streets, where one was not constantly reminded of them. Where it was universally maintained that women do not have orgasms; and yet every prostitute was taught to simulate them. Where there was an enormous progress and liberation in every other field of human activity; and nothing but tyranny in the most personal and fundamental.

This world is soon about to collapse, with the Representation of the People Act 1867 about to be introduced in Parliament, which will give suffrage to all males in the country and not just the gentry; Karl Marx is already at work on his revolutionary book; and Darwin has forever banished man from the position of the Lord of All Creation. He is now just a life-form descended from monkeys (well, not exactly, but that was how Victorians understood Darwin).

It is during this tumultuous period of history that Charles Smithson, the nephew of baronet, engaged to be married to the charming Ernestina (Tina) Freeman, meets Sarah Woodruff - known locally as "Tragedy" or "The French Lieutenant's Woman". She has apparently been jilted by a French soldier and spends her days scanning the sea, hoping for her lover's return. And in the tried-and-tested formula of romance novels since they were first conceived, he falls for the unsuitable, “fallen” woman.

Charles betrothal to Tina reeks of a marriage of convenience, even though he tries to convince himself that it’s a love match. His prospective father-in-law is a successful businessman, and is trying to push himself upon the social ladder. His daughter’s marriage to a prospective British Lord would do nicely to further his cause – and his wife’s money would help Charles, who is not too rich to begin with, to live a life of luxury. Note how Fowles marks the aftermath of Charles’ proposal:

> No words were needed. Ernestina ran into her mother's arms, and twice as many tears as before began to fall. Meanwhile the two men stood smiling at each other; the one as if he had just concluded an excellent business deal, the other as if he was not quite sure which planet he had just landed on, but sincerely hoped the natives were friendly.

By falling for the French lieutenant’s woman, Charles is risking his future: but Sarah is too attractive because she is different from the usual female in the highly stratified Victorian society.

> Given the veneer of a lady, she was made the perfect victim of a caste society. Her father had forced her out of her own class, but could not raise her to the next. To the young men of the one she had left she had become too select to marry; to those of the one she aspired to, she remained too banal.

> ***

> She was too striking a girl not to have suitors, in spite of the lack of a dowry of any kind. But always then had her first and innate curse come into operation; she saw through the too confident pretendants. She saw their meanness, their condescensions, their charities, their stupidities. Thus she appeared inescapably doomed to the one fate nature had so clearly spent many millions of years in evolving her to avoid: spinsterhood.

Charles is “enlightened”: he believes in evolution and is an avid fossil collector. It is while he goes on these collecting expeditions on the limestone cliffs of the town that he meets Sarah, hears her strange tale, and falls for her.

But now, the Godlike novelist has to make an appearance.

> You may think novelists always have fixed plans to which they work, so that the future predicted by Chapter One is always inexorably the actuality of Chapter Thirteen. But novelists write for countless different reasons: for money, for fame, for reviewers, for parents, for friends, for loved ones; for vanity, for pride, for curiosity, for amusement: as skilled furniture-makers enjoy making furniture, as drunkards like drinking, as judges like judging, as Sicilians like emptying a shotgun into an enemy's back. I could fill a book with reasons, and they would all be true, though not true of all. Only one same reason is shared by all of us: we wish to create worlds as real as, but other than the world that is. Or was. This is why we cannot plan. We know a world is an organism, not a machine. We also know that a genuinely created world must be independent of its creator; a planned world (a world that fully reveals its planning) is a dead world. It is only when our characters and events begin to disobey us that they begin to live.

The story is getting away from him and he has to bring it back on track! So Fowles does the unthinkable: he inserts himself into the novel, and provides the reader with multiple endings. Take your pick…

***

If you are a fan of the conventional story with a beginning, middle and end, this book is not for you. It’s convoluted, verbose and disjointed. Some may feel that it is overlong. You need a lot of patience to plod through the story, taking all the detours and enduring all the stoppages that the author throws at you. But if you distance yourself from the tale (remember the Brechtian technique), you will suddenly start to find it enjoyable. Because this is a novel of ideas; and the idea includes the idea of the novel itself.

Sarah Woodruff, the woman who sets out to “spoil” herself so that she will have an identity, is a masterly creation. And the two possible endings that the author provides at the end allows the reader to appreciate her more. With Sarah’s choice, one could really say that the Victorian Age has ended.

How to write like Tolstoy? ~ Richard Cohen 61 of 25

Yesterday, had a family get together, though unwell, wnated to attend it. But did not want others to be troubled by me. Event being in an author's house filled with books, picked this from his collections and I couldn’t put this one down.How to Write Like Tolstoy is a thought-provoking journey inside the minds of the world's most accomplished storytellers, from Shakespeare to Stephen King.Behind every acclaimed work of literature is a trove of heartfelt decisions. The best authors put painstaking--sometimes obsessive--effort into each element of their stories, from plot and character development to dialogue and point of view.What made Nabokov choose the name Lolita? Why did Fitzgerald use first-person narration in The Great Gatsby? How did Kerouac, who raged against revision, finally come to revise On the Road? Veteran editor and teacher Richard Cohen draws on his vast reservoir of a lifetime's reading and his insight into what makes good prose soar. Here are Gabriel Garcia Marquez's thoughts on how to start a novel ("In the first paragraph you solve most of the problems with your book"); Virginia Woolf offering her definition of style ("It is all rhythm. Once you get that, you can't use the wrong words"); and Vladimir Nabokov on the nature of fiction ("All great novels are great fairy tales").Cohen has researched the published works and private utterances of our greatest authors to discover the elements that made their prose memorable. The result is a unique exploration of the act and art of writing that enriches our experience of reading both the classics and the best modern fiction. Evoking the marvelous, the famous, and the irreverent, he reveals the challenges that even the greatest writers faced--and shows us how they surmounted them.

Sreenivasan

ഏതു സിനിമയിലെ ഏതു റോൾ, ഏതു സീൻ ആണ് മറക്കാനാവുക?

എത്രയെത്ര ചിരികളാണ് ചൊരിഞ്ഞിട്ടു തന്നത് ?

സ്വയം കളിയാക്കൽ എന്ന ചെറു മനുഷ്യർക്കതീതമായ വലിയ കലയിൽ ഡോക്റ്ററേറ്റെടുത്ത വേറെയാരാണ് ഇനിയുള്ളത്?

നടന വിസ്മയമേ,ചാരിതാർത്ഥ്യത്തോടെ യാത്ര പോവുക.

സ്നേഹ പ്രണാമം.

 I couldn't agree more! 💯

Beautifully penned by K A Shaji. ♥️

I have always thought of Sreenivasan as a communist who never allowed communism to become comfortable. He was the rare kind who loved an idea enough to fight it, to embarrass it, to hold it up to the light and ask why it had begun to lie to itself. Today, as the news of his death settles into my body with a dull, unrelenting ache, I realise that I did not just lose a filmmaker I admired. I lost a voice that taught me how to doubt without becoming cynical, how to laugh without surrendering conscience.

I grew up with his films as part of my moral education. Sandesam did not merely make me laugh. It unsettled me. It shook the inherited certainties of party loyalty that surrounded me like air. Here was a man inside the Left tradition, speaking its truths with merciless honesty. He showed how ideology, when emptied of empathy, can turn grotesque. The brothers screaming slogans across a dining table were not fiction. They were our uncles, our neighbours, sometimes ourselves. Sreenivasan taught me, gently but firmly, that politics which cannot tolerate self-criticism is already decaying.

Arabikkatha broke me in a quieter way. I remember watching it and feeling a lump in my throat that refused to dissolve. A communist walking through the Gulf, carrying his beliefs like a suitcase that suddenly feels too heavy. That loneliness, that moral fatigue, that awkward dignity of compromise. Sreenivasan understood migrant life not as economics but as emotion. He captured the ache of ideological displacement, the sadness of realising that slogans do not pay rent, and yet refusing to abandon belief altogether. That film stayed with me like a bruise.

With Chinthavishtayaya Shyamala, he entered the spaces where men rarely look at themselves honestly. I watched it later in life, and it frightened me with its clarity. The politics here were not on the street but in the bedroom, in silences, in the entitlement of not listening. Shyamala’s thinking was revolutionary. Sreenivasan taught me that patriarchy survives not through cruelty alone, but through laziness of the heart. That film did something few political texts ever did. It made me ashamed, and then it made me want to be better.

And then there was Udayananu Tharam, where he peeled open the cinema itself, exposing its vanities, betrayals and market driven ethics. He laughed at success and mourned talent crushed under power. As someone who lives by words and stories, that film felt uncomfortably intimate. It reminded me that even art is not innocent, and that survival often comes at a cost we pretend not to see.

What I loved most about Sreenivasan was his courage to be ridiculous. He played the rat person of our social life, the one who knows the cracks, the hidden passages, the moral compromises. He never wanted to be heroic. He chose instead to be honest. His comedy was not escape. It was diagnosis. Satire was his scalpel, cutting through ideological failure, masculine arrogance, cultural pretence. He made us laugh and then quietly placed a mirror in our hands.

As an actor, he carried intelligence on his face. Not polished intelligence, but lived, slightly wounded intelligence. His characters stammered, failed, envied, sulked. They were small men crushed by big ideas and bigger systems. In them, I saw Kerala, with all its political literacy and emotional illiteracy. I saw myself too, and that recognition was never comfortable.

Today, thinking of him, my eyes sting. Not just because he is gone, but because voices like his are becoming rare. In an age of loud certainties and ideological vanity, Sreenivasan stood for something unfashionable. Doubt. Humility. Self ridicule. He believed politics must begin with listening, and art must begin with honesty.

Sreenivasan did not give me answers. He gave me questions that refused to leave. He taught me that laughter can be a form of resistance, that love for an idea must include the courage to criticise it, and that the most political act sometimes is simply to think, deeply and painfully.

As I write this, I feel a heaviness that words cannot lift. But I also feel gratitude. For the films. For the laughter that carried grief inside it. For the courage to say uncomfortable truths. Sreenivasan may have left the frame, but his voice remains, arguing, teasing, whispering in our ears.

Some people do not just make cinema. They shape the way you see the world.

Sreenivasan was one of them.

From the satirical bites of “Sandesham”to the raw emotion of “Vadakkunokkiyantram”, he taught us to laugh at ourselves while thinking deeper. A true master of the craft who redefined what it means to be a "hero" on screen, & who was an effective director as well. 

Beyond the actor was a brilliant writer who captured the pulse of Kerala like no other. Sreenivasan’s scripts are time capsules of social commentary, humor, and unparalleled wit. There will never be another observer of life quite like him.

We mourn the loss of writer, screenwriter, actor, director and cultural icon, Sreenivasan (1956 - 2025). Born in Thalasserry, Sreenivasan began his career with an appearance in PA Backer’s Manimuzhakkam (1976), the start of a film career that spanned over six decades. As an actor, he remains in the cosnciousness of audiences and lovers of Malayalam cinema with roles in films that include Mannu (1978), Yavanika (1982), Panchavadi Paalam (1984), Gandhinagar 2nd Street (1986), Pattanapravesham (1988), Vadakkunokkiyanthram (1989), Sandesham (1991), Thalayanamanthram (1990), Midhunam (1993), Ayal Kadha Ezhuthukayanu (1998), Udayananu Tharam (2004), Arabikkatha (2007), Kerala Cafe (2009), Bhoomiyude Avakashikal (2012) and Padmasree Bharat Dr. Saroj Kumar (2012) among many others.

As a writer, his extraordinary comic timing led to several unforgettable collaborations with filmmakers like Sathyan Anthikad and Priyadarshan for films like Aram + Aram Kinnaram (1985), Gandhinagar 2nd Street

(1986), Nadodikkattu (1987), Varavelpu (1989), Sandesham (1991), Mazhayethum Munpe (1995) and Kilichundan Mampazham (2003) among countless others.

As a director, he directed two generation-defying films - Vadakkunokkiyanthram Malayalam (1989) and

Chinthavishtayaya Shyamala (1998), films that brought fresh and honest insight to human relationships.

In this image, Sreenivasan appears in Oridathu (1986) directed by G. Aravindan. 

We remember Sreenivasan’s extraordinary sense of wit combined an astute understanding of human society, empathy for the underdog and an irreverence for authority. His remarkable legacy unites generations of film lovers and will continue to do so. 

#Sreenivasan

Some artists entertain, some enlighten, some provoke. Sreenivasan did it all, with a smile that carried truth and a laugh that carried responsibility.

Shashi Kapoor’s children

 

 A legacy carried forward with quiet dignity 🌿

Shashi Kapoor’s children—Kunal, Karan and Sanjana Kapoor—may have stepped away from the glare of mainstream stardom, but each has carved a meaningful path rooted in creativity, culture and individuality. Born to the legendary Shashi Kapoor and the graceful Jennifer Kendal, they inherited not just talent, but a deep respect for the arts.

Kunal Kapoor, the eldest, began his journey as an actor with memorable films like Junoon and Aahista Aahista. Yet, listening to his inner calling, he transitioned into the world of advertising, where he found lasting success. As the founder of Adfilm-Valas, Kunal became a respected name behind the camera, directing numerous iconic commercials.

Karan Kapoor, once the face of the iconic Bombay Dyeing ads and a popular model of the 1980s, also acted briefly before choosing a quieter, more personal creative life. Today, he is a successful photographer based in London, capturing stories through his lens rather than the silver screen.

Sanjana Kapoor, the youngest, became the torchbearer of the family’s theatrical soul. As the longtime custodian of Mumbai’s beloved Prithvi Theatre, she nurtured stage art, dialogue and performance, keeping alive the Kapoor-Kendal legacy of meaningful storytelling.

Together, they remind us that legacy is not only about fame—but about staying true to one’s passion and purpose.

#fblifestyle

Marple: A Christmas Mystery ~ Agatha Christie

 

🎬 Agatha Christie’s Marple: A Christmas Mystery (2025)

🎬 𝑭𝙪𝒍𝙡 𝙢𝒐𝙫𝒊𝙚 𝙞𝒏 𝒕𝙝𝒆 𝒄𝙤𝒎𝙢𝒆𝙣𝒕𝙨 👇

⭐ Starring: Jamie Lee Curtis, Diane Lane

A holiday mystery like no other. Agatha Christie’s Marple: A Christmas Mystery brings together two brilliant minds—Jamie Lee Curtis and Diane Lane—as they unravel a chilling crime set against the backdrop of a cozy, snow-covered mansion. When a priceless family heirloom goes missing during a Christmas celebration, suspicion quickly falls on every guest. With secrets buried beneath the sparkling holiday cheer, Marple and her partner must sift through a web of deceit to uncover the truth.

Filled with suspense, intrigue, and a touch of holiday magic, this film captures the essence of Agatha Christie’s iconic storytelling. The charming Christmas setting is at odds with the dark mystery unraveling inside, keeping audiences on the edge of their seats as they join the detectives in their quest to solve the case before the holiday spirit is completely shattered.

With stunning performances, a classic setting, and a puzzle to solve, Agatha Christie’s Marple: A Christmas Mystery is a must-see for fans of mystery, drama, and holiday suspense.

Can you solve the mystery before it’s too late?

Jane Eyre ~ Charlotte Bronte

 

I got a copy of this book from the Bronte Museum. 

Jane Eyre does not begin like a grand romance; it begins with cold weather, a closed door, and a lonely child. From its very first pages, Charlotte Brontë invites us into a world where emotions are not loud but deeply felt, where pain is endured in silence, and where the strongest battles are fought within the human heart. Reading Jane Eyre feels less like following a story and more like listening to someone quietly confess their life to you by a fading fire.

Jane, small and unwanted in the Reed household, grows up surrounded by cruelty disguised as discipline. The famous Red-Room scene is not just a moment of childhood terror; it is the novel’s first declaration of rebellion. Jane’s fear is real, but so is her refusal to accept injustice as natural. Even as a child, she feels—almost instinctively—that dignity matters. Brontë does something remarkable here: she gives moral depth to a poor, plain, orphaned girl and insists that her inner life is as important as any wealthy hero’s adventures. This insistence stays with us long after the scene ends.

As Jane moves to Lowood, suffering continues, but so does growth. Hunger, cold, and loss shape her, yet they do not harden her heart. The death of Helen Burns remains one of the most quietly devastating moments in Victorian literature. Helen’s calm acceptance of suffering contrasts with Jane’s fierce need for justice, and between them, Brontë explores two responses to pain—endurance and resistance. Jane does not become saintly; she becomes human. That balance is the soul of the novel.

When Thornfield enters the story, the novel takes on a Gothic glow—misty grounds, strange laughter, shadowed corridors. Edward Rochester arrives not as a handsome fairy-tale hero but as a wounded, restless man. Their conversations crackle with equality, something rare and radical for its time. Jane does not fall for wealth or status; she falls for recognition. Rochester sees her mind, and Jane demands to be seen as a whole person. “I am no bird,” she declares, and in that moment, Jane Eyre becomes not only a love story but a manifesto for emotional and moral independence.

Yet Brontë refuses to make love easy or comforting. The revelation of Bertha Mason shatters romance with brutal force. Jane’s decision to leave Rochester—despite loving him deeply—is one of the novel’s most powerful moral acts. It is not society she obeys, but her own conscience. The pain of that departure lingers like a wound; readers feel her loneliness on the moors, her near collapse, her quiet refusal to surrender her self-respect. Love, Brontë suggests, must never come at the cost of one’s soul.

The novel’s ending, softened by time and suffering, feels earned rather than indulgent. Rochester’s blindness and Jane’s independence restore balance between them. Their reunion is not a triumph of passion alone, but of endurance, growth, and mutual humility. Jane returns not as a dependent governess but as an equal partner—financially, morally, emotionally.

What makes Jane Eyre so enduring is its intimacy. It speaks directly to readers who have felt overlooked, silenced, or underestimated. Its nostalgia lies not only in its Victorian setting but in its emotional honesty—the kind that reminds us of our younger selves, quietly longing to be understood. Charlotte Brontë gives us a heroine who does not conquer the world, but who refuses to let the world conquer her. And in that quiet resistance, Jane Eyre continues to speak—softly, fiercely, and unforgettable—to the hearts of its readers.

Mrs. Dalloway ~ Virginia Woolf

 

Mrs. Dalloway is a novel that does not announce itself with grand events or dramatic turns, yet it quietly enters the reader’s mind and stays there, like a lingering thought on a summer afternoon. Virginia Woolf takes a single ordinary day in London and transforms it into a profound exploration of life, memory, time, and the hidden emotional worlds people carry within them. At first glance, the story seems simple: Clarissa Dalloway steps out to buy flowers for a party she is hosting that evening. But beneath this simplicity lies a rich and complex inner universe, where past and present flow into each other as naturally as breath.

What makes the novel remarkable is Woolf’s treatment of time. Clock time moves steadily forward, marked by the tolling of Big Ben, yet psychological time moves freely, slipping backward into memory and forward into reflection. Clarissa’s walk through the streets awakens recollections of her youth, of love, of choices made and unmade. These memories are not mere background; they are alive, shaping her present self. Woolf suggests that a human life is not a straight line but a web of moments, emotions, and impressions, all existing at once in the mind.

Clarissa herself is a deeply moving figure, not because of any dramatic suffering, but because of her quiet awareness of life’s fragility. She appears confident and socially graceful, yet she often feels an emptiness she cannot easily name. Her reflections on aging, on missed possibilities, and on the nature of happiness carry a gentle sadness. Woolf’s genius lies in making this inner restlessness feel universal. Clarissa’s thoughts echo the private doubts and longings that many people hide behind polite smiles and everyday routines.

Running parallel to Clarissa’s story is that of Septimus Warren Smith, a traumatized war veteran. His presence gives the novel its sharpest emotional edge. Septimus is haunted by the horrors of the First World War, unable to reintegrate into ordinary life. While Clarissa moves through society, Septimus is pushed to its margins, misunderstood and dismissed by doctors who value conformity over compassion. Through him, Woolf offers a powerful critique of a society that fails to listen to suffering minds. His inner world, intense and fractured, stands in stark contrast to the calm surface of postwar England, revealing the cost of emotional repression.

The connection between Clarissa and Septimus is subtle yet profound. They never meet, yet they are spiritually linked. Both are deeply sensitive to life, both struggle with isolation, and both feel overwhelmed by the pressure to conform. Clarissa chooses life, embracing it through her party and her connections with others, while Septimus, unable to find understanding, chooses death. When Clarissa learns of his suicide, she feels a strange sense of kinship, as if his act has expressed something she herself has felt but never articulated. In this moment, Woolf suggests that joy and despair, life and death, are closer than we often admit.

Emotion in Mrs. Dalloway is quiet but intense. Woolf does not tell us what to feel; she allows us to inhabit her characters’ minds, to feel their hesitations, regrets, and fleeting joys. A sound, a scent, or a passing face can trigger a wave of feeling, reminding us how delicately human consciousness is woven. The novel captures the beauty of ordinary moments—a walk in the city, a remembered kiss, a shared glance—and shows how these moments give life its meaning.

In the end, Mrs. Dalloway is not simply about a woman or a party or even a single day. It is about the courage to live with awareness, to feel deeply in a world that often encourages emotional numbness. Woolf invites the reader to pause, to look beneath the surface of everyday life, and to recognize the silent struggles and quiet triumphs that define being human. The novel closes not with resolution, but with a feeling—a sense of life continuing, fragile yet precious, echoing long after the final page is turned.

Assam – Meghalaya – Nagaland Group Trip

 🌸 Assam – Meghalaya – Nagaland Group Trip.

🪶 Hornbill Festival Special

📅 Nov 29 – Dec 6, 2025

⏱️ 8 Days / 7 Nights

✨ Highlights:

🌺 Kamakhya Temple 

🐘 Kaziranga National Park

🎉 Hornbill Festival, Nagaland

With Lata Mam

Cherry blossom here too... here n there

Maha Mritunjay temple Nagaon The Temple Inauguration was done by Pran Pratishta Mahotsav, worship (Puja) was stated on 22 Feb and ended on 25 Feb 2021. This Temple is special in its architectural sense as it is built in a form a Shivling. It is the World's largest Shivalinga, at the height of 126 foot.

🌦️ Shillong

💦 Cherrapunji

🌳 Mawlynnong Village

🌊 Dawki River

🇧🇩 Bangladesh Border View

🌿 Living Root Bridge

💰 Trip Cost: Rs. 36,000/- per person

(Stay, Food, Entry Fees, Transport & Guide all included)

📞 Contact Now to Reserve Your Seat:

📱 Latha – 9895900125 (Call)

💬 6382872903 (WhatsApp)

🏕️ Glance of India Tours & Travels, Ernakulam