[MY BOOKISH OBSESSIONS] The Inventor of Words, Writer of Tragedies, Master of Flattery – SHAKESPEARE

The man who gave us –

Hopeless lovers,
Stubborn shrews,
Witless men, and
Witches too.

YES! It’s BARD MONTH over here at THE WITHERING and you are all invited to celebrate it with me.

Shakespeare and I go way back because my love for him sprouted from a deep-rooted hatred!

I wasn’t all that little when my mum went to Penguin’s and got me a copy of King Lear – it was white, it was little, IT WAS DOWNRIGHT BORING. It seemed boring at least. I have been judging books by their cover since 2005 so, of course, I treated this little copy like a bad smell – avoiding it at all costs.


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I was already reading classics and that’s where my mother got the inspiration to introduce me to the sneaky Bard. But this time she had miscalculated. I hadn’t read a single play up until that point and I was very prejudiced about them.

For some reason, I had developed a strong belief that reading a play wouldn’t get me the kind of satisfaction that comes from reading a novel. BUT BOY WAS I ABOUT TO BE PROVED WRONG!

Mumma started getting strict with me about reading King Lear, and I don’t respond that well to pressure. So I defied, WITH ALL OF MY MIGHT. In response, she took away EVERY SINGLE OF MY BOOKS – except, of course, that rather ugly copy of King Lear.

You see, apart from playing out with friends in the evening and arguing with my brother all day long, I didn’t have much else to do. Summer holidays had already started so no school either.

In short, I was stuck – between reading something I despised or increasing argument time with my brother.

Naturally, I chose the former. The first few pages were – TORTURE, for want of a better word. I hated it – the old man and his three daughters. I HATED THEM. I HATED THEIR GUTS, I HATED EVERYTHING ABOUT EVERYTHING in that book. But that was about to change. As the play progressed, I found myself furrowing my eyebrows less and less.

How desperately had King Liar tried to be a FAMILY MAN and how pathetically had he failed!

It was a journey of mixed emotions – frustration prevailed, but so did anger (for his daughters), anticipation, hopelessness, and an unexpected burst of sadness when, in the end, King Lear dies of a broken heart.

Over the years, although I forgot the story a few scenes were still very clear in my memory like when Lear – stricken with the realization that none of his daughters want him – runs out of their house, wanders in the snowstorm – cold and all alone! I don’t know why but that scene – the way I pictured it back then – is still stuck in my mind and sends chills up my spine whenever I think of it.

My adoration for Shakespeare crept up on me stealthily and left me craving for more. I was genuinely surprised by how my views about his writing had changed – from aversion to love – all in a matter of a few pages.

I went on to read his sonnets, Taming of the Shrew, Julius Caesar, and THEN Romeo and Juliet. I was introduced to the rest when I started my Honors three years ago and honestly? It isn’t as much fun reading Shakespeare critically as it was back in school – because back then my ideas, my imagination wasn’t muddied by all those opinionated writers, analyzing his works to their hearts content.

BUT HEYYY! Hang on there, Rain! You are going to do the same as well so away with your bashing. *grins* Yep. That’s true! I will twist and turn his works and present them in a way that’s enjoyable to everyone – literary and non-literary folks alike. Sound good? Okay then.

Here’s to an awesome Bard Month and to start it off on a more collective note, why don’t you guys share your experiences with Shakespeare in the comments?
Your first sonnet? First play? Your favorite one?
I WANNA KNOW EVERYTHING! So, let’s chat!






[A READER’S LIFE] The Crazy Book-Girl //Things I did as a kid that earned me this title// PART-2

Having had WAY TOO many crazy bookish moments in my childhood, I have been wanting to share this post ever since I wrote the part one. 

My childhood was full on crazyI’d slap someone four years older than me and then get into trouble for that, took a few things too and hid them in a place where nobody could find them and then watched everyone panic – a classic example of this was when I took my aunt’s gold ring and kept it in my room.

In my defense I was only 5 years old and that ring was very fucking shiny – it had a peacock engraved in it. IMAGINE THAT!

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Yeah, so I took it – in innocence – but when she got mad at her own girls, I was afraid of telling her that it wasn’t them, it was me. And so, I didn’t speak out for the next three days – until my mum found it while looking for something in my bag. 

But, hey, THAT’S ANOTHER THING!! 🤷🏻‍♀️ Right now, I just wanna talk about some other things I did as a child that earned me the label I now wear with much pride and respect – “The Crazy Book Girl”

Let’s begin, shall we? 

undefinedGuilty of Stealing 

Ladies and Gentleman, we are gathered here today to witness the public shaming of this girl – who goes by the name RAIN.

Look at her. Just look. So innocent, isn’t she? Well, don’t be fooled by her little face because behind that innocent smile is the heart of a very heinous criminal who can and WILL destroy everything you hold dearmainly books.

The Local PD, Bookishton

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Yep. They are absolutely fucking right. I did steal someone’s book once. 

Hey, hey, HEYYY! Before you come at me with torches and swords, let me explain dude.

It was the year 2005 and I was merely 9 years old. By that time, I had already fallen head over heels in love with books – those pretty little books hiding those pretty little stories! 

This one time my ”friend” – let’s call her P – brought her recently rand new social science book to school. Okay, I admit that the content wasn’t very exciting but THOSE PAGES – glossy and smooth as butter. HARDCOVER. Pretty drawings. IT WAS THE VERY DEFINITION OF BEAUTY. 

And I was jealous. And SHE FUCKING KNEW IT! That’s why she kept showing it off whole dayy! 

Well, I got mad and decided I wanted that book. And so, when she went to the bathroom – I took the book out and put it in my bag. It wasn’t too big so nobody noticed me doing so.

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The first few moments I felt awesome but it soon converted into guilt. As that feeling started to overpower me, I decided to out it back in her bag but she came back right at that moment and since it was the last period, I couldn’t do it that day! 

When she went home, she must have cried a lot because her new book was missing. AND I FELT AWFUL TOO! And so, the next day – since I usually arrived in class before everyone else – I put the book on the very back seat and sat on my own bench.

The boy who was sitting there noticed the book in the first period, read her name and gave it back to her and that was that.

P, if you are reading this, I HOPE THIS TEACHES YOU NEVER TO FUCKING SHOW OFF! 

NOW GO AWAY. You were a mean bean in the later years and I HATE YOU! 😡

undefinedIt’s all about them stickers

As a child, I had a LOT of picture books. My mum used to bring me new ones every year from the book fair. IT USED TO BE ONE OF THE MOST ANTICIPATED DAY OF THE YEAR. And then, she used to give them to me at the end of every academic year – in March.

It was a lovely tradition and it helped in cultivating my reading habit. And so, I always prized those books and kept them decorated. With lots of those puffy stickers.

One of those books was titled – ”The Best Classic Fairy Tales’‘ –  It was very pretty orange colored and puffy and it had some of my favorite stories like Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood, and Beauty and the Beast.

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I loved it and of course during those first few months of owning it, I would take it to school everyday, not to show it off though LIKE THAT P! 😡 Just to make sure that it’s alright, safe with me. 

I never took it out of my bag in the class. Never except that one time – in the social science period. Our teacher – with her typical short hair and mean eyes – noticed it and took it from me, asking me to give it back at the period’s end.

I waited impatiently for the bell to ring and as soon as it did, I was the first one off my seat and in front of the teacher’s desk. But she decided to troll me instead, saying that she wanted to borrow the book for a day – so that her daughter could read it.

I couldn’t very well refuse her, EXAMS WERE NEAR, worse luck! And so I nodded. 

The next day, however, when she returned the book, I was shocked to see what her daughter had done – torn off ALL OF MY STICKERS, leaving the pages looking ugly with all those white patches. Like this: 😦

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And you know what? She pretended as if that was always the case – as if it was like that when she took it from me in the first place!

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK?! An apology would’ve been nice. 

From that day, I started being rude to that particular teacher and she’d purposefully cut my marks off for the MOST RANDOM MISTAKES.

Oh well.

undefinedHide your sweaters from me if you are a rude ass punk. 

Some of you who have read the part one of this post already know that I once beat up a guy for stealing my book. Well, that wasn’t the only bookish beating I executed.

There was one more. Just one. But this one is VERY important and I AM STILL VERY PROUD OF IT. 

I must have been around 11? years old when this happened. You see, I used to sit with this guy from my class in the bus while going back home. He and I used to read comics. The seats used to be really small so we would sit very close to each other and read from the comics – just random cartoons or something, I don’t even remember their names now.

And this other classmate of mine, call him Hasshole, he used to make fun of that. He used to gossip about us, that mean boy gossip you know, it makes me laugh now that I think about it. 

But boy did he cross his limit when he snatched the comic from us this one time and crumpled it (they used to be very thin) and started laughing like the Hasshole he was! 

He shouldn’t have done that. I got so fucking angry that I went to him, pinned him to the back of the bus, and tore his sweater a bit, starting with it’s v neck. You get the idea, yeah?

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He cried and cried until his stop came and unfortunately, it was the same as mine. When his mum, standing there to pick him up, saw this she asked him about it and he told her everything.

She scolded me and took me to my mother, who then scolded me again and I wasn’t allowed to go out to play FOR A WEEK!

 FUCK THAT ”HASSHOLE.” I HATE HIM! 


*SIGH* Well, THAT was a fun ride, wasn’t it? 😉
These are some of THE MOST memorable moments of my childhood, makes them laugh to even think about them now. And I have this vague idea that THESE ARE NOT ALL – maybe I’m forgetting something?!

I GOTTA GO ASK MUMMA!

Until, next time then?

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FOR TIMES WHEN YOU CRAVE SOMETHING WEIRDLY BEAUTIFUL// Mooreeffoc//REVIEW//

I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS BEFORE TODAY?!?!?!?
What the actual hell is wrong with meeeeeE????
TWO OF MY MOST FAVORITE WRITERS PUBLISHED A STORY AND I DID NOT KNOW ABOUT IT??!?!?
*sighs*

ANYWAY…now that I have read it, loved it, re-read it, loved it some more..I feel quite at ease.

Continue reading “FOR TIMES WHEN YOU CRAVE SOMETHING WEIRDLY BEAUTIFUL// Mooreeffoc//REVIEW//”