
Tales that undo othering
In a world increasingly divided for a host of reasons into various us/not us categories, it would go a long way to awaken our true nature of goodness and compassion – though deeply buried – by turning to some children's books and stories.
Many of these books reveal how relationships – good ones or bad – work, and how to understand and accept, include others not like us, and maybe embrace differences.
A story from Africa, that a wonderful storyteller friend shared, goes like this:
One day, birds challenged four-footed animals to a ball game. Those with wings on one side, and animals with teeth on the opposing team. When Bat arrived, he was sent to the team whose players had teeth. But animals with teeth claimed Bat did not belong on their team because he had wings! They sent him off to birds' team, but feathered and winged birds refused to accept Bat; he couldn't join their team because he had teeth. Finally, four-footed animals somewhat reluctantly accepted Bat because he had teeth. The game began and birds were leading because they could fly with the ball above where animals couldn't reach. Eventually, Bat, playing for animals, managed to take the ball away from birds again and again, and finally animals won.
We notice there seem to be as many books about animals and birds acting like humans as there are books about actual children, and there may be a good case for this. Animal fiction goes to places that other stories can't. Our world is different when viewed through non-human eyes. Adventures feel more exciting because characters – and you, in your imagination – can be hunted by a predator, swept away by giant waves or abandoned in a difficult place. But stories also have built in safety-valves because characters aren't human, so there is a kind of 'distancing'. And so, authors can – carefully – go to more difficult places, handle more difficult themes.
It's not just modern writers who think so – we have, after all, the wonderful Panchatantra treasury, which contains fables usually involving animals, with so much to teach us through incisive insight into human behaviour. Animal stories of Buddhist Jataka tales teach followers to avoid hurting people or tell of meritorious acts of kindness and compassion performed by animals, inspiring us to emulate these.
Facebook Twitter Linkedin Email Disclaimer
Views expressed above are the author's own.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Time of India
2 days ago
- Time of India
Did Ozzy Osbourne really eat a bat on stage? Rock legend's wildest rumour explained after his death
Ozzy Osbourne, the larger-than-life icon who helped shape the very sound of heavy metal, has died at the age of 76. The news comes just weeks after his final performance in Birmingham, where he delivered a throne-bound farewell packed with hits from both Black Sabbath and his solo catalogue. Fans across the globe are grieving, not just for the man, but for the mythology he carried with him. The infamous Ozzy Osbourne's bat incident: What really happened? One tale has followed Ozzy for decades, whispered backstage and screen-printed on the back of leather jackets: did he actually bite the head off a bat on stage? As unbelievable as it sounds, the answer is yes, but with a few wild twists. In 1982, during a concert in Des Moines, a fan hurled what Ozzy believed to be a rubber bat onto the stage. Without hesitation, he picked it up and bit its head off. Unfortunately for him, it was real. His then-girlfriend Sharon Osbourne is said to have shouted in horror when she realised the truth. Ozzy Osbourne 'the prince of darkness' has passed. Des Moines will never forget the BAT 🦇 Osbourne, stunned and panicked, immediately threw the bat back into the crowd. Later that night, he was rushed to hospital for a series of rabies shots. He later recalled that moment as one of chaos and confusion, and said the bat may have even bitten him in return. Not the first animal incident of Ozzy Osbourne This was not Ozzy's first encounter with creatures of the animal kingdom. A year earlier, in a bizarre promotional stunt gone wrong, he reportedly bit the heads off two doves in a meeting with record executives. What was meant to be a peaceful gesture quickly spiralled into rock history infamy. The legacy of Ozzy Osbourne Despite these dark and dramatic stories, Ozzy was not always the outrageous figure headlines portrayed. His more vulnerable moments, including cooking breakfast in a metal documentary or starring in The Osbournes, showed the man behind the myth. But even as fans grieve, many choose to remember him as rock's ultimate wildcard, who turned shock into spectacle and mayhem into music.


The Hindu
5 days ago
- The Hindu
Banu Mushtaq Interview: International Booker Prize Winner on Reading, Social Movements, and Marginalized Voices
Published : Jul 20, 2025 11:57 IST - 9 MINS READ This year, Banu Mushtaq received the highest literary honour when her short story collection Heart Lamp, translated by Deepa Bhasthi, won the 2025 International Booker Prize, bringing Kannada literature into the global spotlight. Banu Mushtaq's life has been shaped by literary activism and social engagement. Born and raised in Hassan, Karnataka, she developed a deep interest in reading and writing in Kannada after learning the language in primary school. Her father and grandfather recognised her early curiosity for the written word and encouraged it by providing children's magazines and storybooks in Kannada. This ignited a lifelong passion for literature. Growing up, she read voraciously—from Panchatantra and Chandamama to Bengali and Russian classics and detective fiction in Urdu. This early exposure to multiple languages and traditions laid the foundation for a career that bridged journalism and fiction. Her literary voice, rooted in her community, resonates with universal themes. Banu Mushtaq has published six collections of short stories. Her novel Kubra, two essay collections, and a poetry collection showcase her literary range. Her translation work includes rendering the Prevention of Domestic Violence Act (2005) into Kannada and translating 500 pages of Adil Shahi literature from Urdu to Kannada. Her literary contributions have been widely recognised. Her accolades include the Karnataka State Rajyotsava Award (2002), the Karnataka Sahitya Academy Honorary Award (2004), the Akkamahadevi Award (2017), the Dana Chintamani Attimabbe Award (2024–25), the Karnataka-50 Suvarna Sambhrama Award (2024), and the English PEN Translation Prize for Heart Lamp (2024). In this episode of Bookmarks, she talks about her reading life, the books and movements that shaped her writing, and how she continued to write despite setbacks. Tell us about your relationship with books. How has reading shaped your life? I started reading and writing early in childhood, which made my father very happy. When I was in first grade, he bought me children's magazines and books like Panchatantra, widely published in Kannada, and Balamitra, a Telugu children's magazine. Other favourites included Chandamama. My father got me these books and magazines regularly. I was always hungry to read more. Later, when we moved to Shimoga city and then to Krishnarajasagara near Mysore, I had access to many local libraries. I had read all the books by top Kannada authors by my twenties .Earlier, we didn't have bookstores in my hometown, so I travelled for four hours to reach Bangalore. After finishing work, I would go to a bookshop and buy as many books as I could afford. My mother used to say, 'You never wear silk sarees or gold jewellery, but you bring home hundreds of books. What are you doing with all these books?' She passed away last year at over 90. She would say I cared more about books than material things! Can you recall a transformative reading experience? Was there a particular book or author that changed how you saw the world? When I was living in Hassan, I had access to the oldest district library there. I read Russian and Bengali literature extensively. I can't point to a single book that had a profound impact. I read many Russian authors, such as Dostoevsky—his novels and short stories—during my early twenties. Were there particular Kannada writers who influenced your literary sensibilities as you began writing? It wasn't books that influenced me when I started writing. It was the social movements of the 1970s and 80s in Karnataka—Dalit movements, farmers' movements, feminist movements, environmental activism, theatre activism, and language movements. These exposed me to issues like caste and gender hegemony, constitutional rights, and social inequalities. There were speeches, workshops, and guidance from senior friends. Marxism also influenced me. A movement called Bandaya Sahitya Sanghatane (Progressive Literary Movement) was particularly important. Writers in this movement were both activists and writers, committed to protest movements and social change. It was a community of committed writers. We openly declared that literature is for the voiceless and marginalised. We wrote poems and songs for agitators, marched with them, and sometimes got arrested. Social movements influenced me more than any single writer Can you name a few South Indian writers who have influenced your writing over the years? I can't say that any particular writer has influenced my writing. The people who influenced me were the downtrodden, the voiceless, the marginalised, the faceless. My writing is unique to my experiences with grassroots organisations and marginalised communities. I draw inspiration from them, not from other writers or their themes. Also Read | The plurality of Englishes Is there a particular book in Kannada or Urdu that made a lasting intellectual impression on you while growing up? You might be surprised, but I read detective novels extensively, especially in Urdu, like those by Ibn-e-Safi (pen name of Asrar Ahmad, a Pakistani fiction writer, novelist and poet). While these didn't have a deep intellectual impact, they amused and entertained me and introduced me to various principles and methods of writing. Any episode from your childhood or literary figure that sparked your desire to tell your own stories? I am the third generation in my family to be educated. My maternal side were agriculturists, but my paternal grandfather was a teacher who knew Urdu, Kannada, and Sanskrit. He even built a mosque in his village. My father studied up to secondary school and knew Kannada, English, and Urdu. I was the first woman in my family to study in Kannada medium, become a graduate, an advocate, a journalist, and then the first woman in our family to write fiction. My father encouraged me to read and write from a young age, even though my grandfather initially objected to me studying Kannada. When I switched to Kannada medium school, I learnt the language fluently within a week and started reading and writing stories, sometimes copying and rewriting stories from books my father gave me. My father especially encouraged me. My grandfather was initially worried that learning Kannada would distance me from our Muslim culture, so he taught me Urdu and Arabic himself. This background helped me later translate works like Tarikh-e-Farishta from Urdu to Kannada. Can you recall the first story you wrote as an aspiring writer? Was it published? My early stories were not published because I didn't know how to submit them. In the early 1970s, when I was about 22 or 23, I visited Bangalore with my father and saw the name of a prominent weekly magazine editor, Prajamata, on a house. I introduced myself and said I wrote short stories. He encouraged me to send a story, and I did, but I waited, and it wasn't published immediately. I was disappointed and stopped writing for a while. Later, after my marriage, my husband brought home an issue of Prajamata and showed me that my story had been published. It was a short fiction piece but not based on my own life as I had limited experience at that time. My husband and father were very happy and proud. The magazine was prestigious and published many leading writers. However, after that, I got married and got busy with family life, so I didn't continue publishing immediately. Also Read | Reading is good when it disturbs you: Amitava Kumar Do you think this Booker Prize recognition will have a positive impact on the visibility of Kannada literature in India and globally? Yes, certainly. People are now recognising the potential of Kannada literature at both the national and global levels. Our agent told me the book has been translated into 35 languages after the Booker recognition. Even now, we are still signing agreements for more translations. This is very positive for Kannada literature, giving it more visibility and encouraging more translations. Your work gives voice to the Muslim community, especially Muslim women in southern India. Do you think these voices from marginalised communities are still missing from mainstream Indian literature? Yes, for a long time there was no representation of Muslim voices—socially, culturally, or in literature—until we started writing through the Bandaya Sahitya Sanghatane. As an Urdu-speaking Muslim, I faced many challenges. Through Bandaya, our sensibilities were shaped, and I began to see society differently. But when I wanted to write, I had many questions: What should I write about? Who should my characters be? What names should I give them? What background should I choose? I was writing for Kannada-speaking people, but my community was very closed and unexplored in Kannada literature. In our Bandaya workshops, the stalwarts advised me to write about myself, my people, and my home. They said the Muslim community had never really been explored in Kannada literature—religiously, socially, or culturally. Until then, most writers were Brahmin men, not even Brahmin women. They wrote about Muslim men, often as either saintly or villainous, but never as real people with complexities. Are there some South Indian writers from the Muslim community whose work deserves wider readership? Yes, there are many in Tamil and Telugu, especially many Muslim women writers. In Malayalam, too, there are several. For example, Salma from Tamil Nadu is a prominent writer who faced harassment when she started writing. There are many others in Telugu and Malayalam who have already been translated into English and other languages. Even my works were translated quite late compared with them. Are there any books you like to give away as gifts to family or friends? Yes, I often gift Ambedkar's literature, especially Annihilation of Caste. He has written many books, and I like to give them to my relatives and friends. I was very much influenced by Ambedkar's writings, especially during my involvement in social movements. If you were to recommend three classics from Kannada literature to someone new to the language, which would you choose? I would recommend the landmark Kannada novel Kusumabale published in 1988 by Devanuru Mahadeva, a prominent Dalit writer. And Samskara by U.R. Ananthamurthy which was first published in 1965. These are highly regarded classics in Kannada literature. What are you currently reading? Anything on your bedside table? I don't usually keep books on my bedside table. Since February, when my book was longlisted for the Booker Prize, I haven't read anything except newspapers. I've been busy giving interviews. Before that, I read works by Sarah Joseph, a prominent voice in Malayalam literature. If you were going on a long vacation and could take only two or three books, which would you choose? I don't read on vacations. I prefer to enjoy the scenery and make notes about my experiences. I only read when I'm at home. Finally, what advice would you give to young writers, especially from marginalised communities, who are writing in languages other than English? Whatever language you write in, just write. Write and write. Don't wait to write in English. Write in any language you are comfortable with. If your work has potential, it will be translated and recognised. Just continue writing and don't stop. Majid Maqbool is an independent journalist and writer based in Kashmir. Bookmarks is a fortnightly column where writers reflect on the books that shaped their ideas, work, and ways of seeing the world.


Economic Times
05-07-2025
- Economic Times
End-of-life for a mechanical being can be more than machine learning
SONG OF THE END OF THE ROAD The KKK took my baby awayThey took her away, away from me - The Ramones This week, I lost a love of my life. Like loves of your life that you take for granted, I realised that Batmobile a.k.a. Bat was a love of my life only after I let go of him on Monday. Finding out on Thursday that Delhi had second thoughts about hunting down petrol cars over 15 years old (and diesel cars over 10) - 'end-of-life' vehicles, they call them as if 'dead' wasn't poetic enough - and sending them to the scrapyard, brought with it a kick in my already-numb juggernauts. But honestly, I was ready to let Bat go, without having to put him through some tortuous BS-IV emission standard enhancement procedure that's made Madonna look what she does now. Bat was a grey 2009 Honda City SV Petrol MT beauty. Driving him was like flying the Millennium Falcon, before Lando Calrissian lost the YT-1300f light freighter in a card game to Han Solo. Sure, over time, he stalled, more than a few times - once, after midnight on way to the airport. The battery needed recharging more frequently than usual. Its automatic locking system went rogue like a malevolent AI in a Kubrick movie, and I had to change it for a manual lock. And by the time I got Bat over from Delhi to Kolkata's roadscape that makes the lunar surface seem an autobahn, its low clearance and bucket back seats had started to break my spine - and his chassis. But this was more a function of my age than his. And yet, here I am, and here he - so giving on the smooth, so forgiving on the rough - isn't. Of course, if you are with someone, inhabit some thing, from June 21, 2019 to June 30, 2025, you become hybrid: part-Hazra, part-Honda. It was only after he left that I had the courage to reread Subodh Ghosh's sparkplugs-tearing 1940 short story, 'Ajantrik' (The Unmechanical). In it, we encounter Bimal, and his 15-year-old Ford, Jagaddal. (In Ritwik Ghatak's finest film, a 1958 adaptation of Ghosh's Agantuk, Jagaddal's number plate is tellingly BRO 117. Bat's is DL 4CAH 9453.) Jagaddal is of 'prehistoric shape, his whole body marked by shambolic decay,' and he hardly gets customers in the taxi stand. And yet, Jagaddal is Bimal's 'valet, friend and provider' - his life. For the misanthrope, this machine provides what human companionship never can. While rubbing kerosene to remove rust from Jagaddal's weary bolts, Bimal snarls back at a person who asks him why on earth he's 'fixing a broken mandir', saying it's his private matter. Fellow driver Pyara Singh laughs and asks Bimal [in Hindi], 'Private? Gari bhi ghar ka aurat hain kya?' His business is on the verge of folding up. But Bimal won't give up his beloved Jagaddal. Until one day - 6 pages into the 9-page story - the car breaks down while going up an elevated road on the way to Ranchi. Jagaddal's piston is broken. A few days later, the bearing melts. Then it's the fanbelt, then it's a blocked carburetor. Finally, the sparkplugs short. 'No, I'm here Jagaddal. Don't worry, I'll get you up and running again,' Bimal promises the teenage geriatric. Soon enough, he gets parts, fixes him, and plans to get Jagaddal a new hood, paint, and burnish. But overnight rains seep through the shambolic garage delivering a final blow to the car. To cut a short story shorter, Bimal is unable to revive him - 'He doesn't understand love, he doesn't understand my words, son-of-an-iron, inanimate ghost!' he shouts while kicking the car in anger, frustration, and grief. Jagaddal is soon sold as scrap. Ahe end of the story, we find Bimal getting progressively drunk, as he hears a 'thong thong thokang thokang - Jagaddal's burial spot is being prepared. As if the sound of a shovel and a crowbar.' The chap who came to take Bat away, told me that in a few weeks, he'll send me a WhatsApp video clip of him being turned to scrap. It's apparently company policy. Elevate your knowledge and leadership skills at a cost cheaper than your daily tea. Zepto has slowed, and Aadit Palicha needs more than a big fund raise to fix it Drones have become a winning strategy in war; can they be in investing? How the sinking of MSC Elsa 3 exposed India's maritime blind spots Ozempic, Wegovy, Mounjaro: Are GLP-1 drugs weight loss wonders or health gamble? Darkness at noon: Can this reform succeed after failing four times? Stock picks of the week: 5 stocks with consistent score improvement and return potential of more than 29% in 1 year Stock Radar: Nippon Life stock gives a breakout from Cup pattern in June; check target & stop loss for long positions From takeovers to a makeover: Are cement stocks ready for re-rating? 8 cement stocks with upside potential from 6 to 42%