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पुस्तक समीक्षा - मैं मुन्ना हूँ - लेखक - मनीष श्रीवास्तव

  जिस प्रकार वनस्पति घी डालडा होता है , जैसे प्रतिलिपि ज़ेरॉक्स होती है , मनीष श्रीवास्तव जी श्रीमान जी होते हैं। कम लोगों को पाठकों का इतना स्नेह प्राप्त होता है , जो उनके कृतित्व एवं लेखन से आगे निकल जाता है। इसका कारण उनके लेखन में   सत्य का प्रतिबिम्ब परिलक्षित होना होता है जो पाठक ने उनके व्यक्तित्व में देखा सुना हो। लेखन मेरी दृष्टि में वह माध्यम होता है जिसके द्वारा अपने सत्य को वह कपोल कल्पना का आवरण पहना कर सार्वजनिक कर देता है और आत्मा को एक पिशाच के बोझ से मुक्त कर पाता है। कलम के माध्यम से लेखक वह कहने का साहस जुटा पाता है जिसे अन्यथा वह संभवतः न कह पाए।जब कोई कृति यह कर पाती है तो वह न केवल लेखक की आत्मा के पिशाच हटाती है वरन पाठक की आत्मा के धागों पर लगी गिरहें भी खोल देती है और उसके मानस को मुक्त कर देती है।   इस दृष्टि से मनीष की यह पुस्तक " मैं मुन्ना हूँ " अपने दायित्व का पूर्णता से निर्वाह करती ...
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Holy Cow!! Indian Media and the Reporting of Riots

A man walks into metro station, shoot himself. The story is a footnote on some inside pages of the newspaper. Even if someone reads it, it is security lapse which stands out. The dead doesn’t evoke attention, let alone sympathy. Without personalization, it is a lame news. I am not a journalist. I am not even a student of journalism in proper sense. If I go by the wise words by Anne Lamott , and analyze the reports, the intent and interest of the journalist stands open for scrutiny. A murder in Dadri, sad as it is, outcome of rumor or fact, is reported way differently from the way, the gory murder of a reporter in same state or killing of a soldier in same state is reported. Annie Lamott tells us that we need to be presented with the actors in a story with human perspective, that what they were as human beings, beyond a statistics or a name. We know the man murdered in Dadri was doing errands for the village, a soft-spoken man, who, with hard work did well to place his kids in...
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Why Teaching Kids Read Early Makes Sense?

Picture Courtesy- GettyImages I am an only child, though not a child anymore. My childhood went in search of friendships outside the home, and waiting for the evening to come by to immerse into those rare moments of camaraderie. Our days, the Pre-Appu childhood, was largely supervised by our parents. I do not much remember visiting my friend’s place in childhood. Much unlike my daughter and her friends who keep meeting up in their homes. My friends were kids of my father’s colleagues and we met when they met. Friendships were formed and finished in the children park.  The interspersed period of loneliness was filled up by books. It was from Comics to pocket-books to Geeta Press to even, Indian Classics like Ramayana and Mahabharata . They filled up my days of solitude with rare happiness. I was called introvert and adults left me alone. It was an arrangement which we both liked. There was no other arrangement in the view. For some reasons, parents those days did not appr...
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