This is from the last month of 2010 but unvisited and remains relevant for a reblob, perhaps.
I was born during the uneasy interval between the cessation of World War II and independence, when much of the world around me was bent double on empty stomach. All those who found gainful employment in the various opportunities that the war had opened up – short service commission in the military, civil supplies, order supply contracts, civil and structural contracts – were frantically looking for cushy jobs after being de-mobbed or dismissed. The job market had shrunk overnight, with the war called off, on all fronts. Blissfully unaware of the unfriendly environs, I, nine months – one full gestation period – older than the Indian republic, made my presence known to all who cared.
In economic terms it was the worst of times but, much to my surprise that surfaced decades later – after I had become an adult – the world of children’s books was surprisingly rich and…
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