Rebecca Bloomwood (Becky) is a twenty five year old financial advising writer and a crazy, out of control shopaholic who owns all the things that she cannot afford, and is employed to a job that she is not interested in. She’s in deep debts and makes lame excuses to her bank account manager for not paying her bills. She makes every effort to hide those bills from herself because she does not want to feel depressed because of them. On the suggestion of her dad she decides to C.B (cut back) or M.M.M (make more money) but totally and miserably… fails.
Panicked by her bank manager’s constant calls and urges for a ‘meeting’, she visits her parents and gets to know that the careless financial advice that she gave to her caring and kind neighbors became the cause of them losing a lot of money. She then decides to stands up for them and ends up getting the job and the man…that she loves!
Oh my god. What a fun it was to read this novel. All those efforts she made not to buy stuff and all those times she ended up buying them. I knew it from the start that THIS GUY is going to be the love of her life, it was like the author had made it sure in the start.
A fun read, for girls. Because only us girls know the happiness and satisfaction of buying those ‘Lovely Louis Vuitton shoes’ or that ‘Classy Gucci watch’ or that ‘Black, studded Prada’s bag that’s really in fashion!’
Three words for this book, thrilling, light and relatable!
All my regards,
Princess is a true story of life behind the veil in Saudi Arabia.
Sultana, a very powerful, egoistic and fearless Saudi princess unveils the reality about her traditions and culture She fights for her rights and knows her mind. She particularly focuses on the fact that the society’s norms and values are shaped precisely FOR MEN, BY MEN
The novel describes the guilt and fears of females living in Arab, fears which force them to live a life of 16th century in 21st century. The novel ponders light on the foolish and ignorant rituals performed by uneducated people without asking a simple question, WHY? In fact, in Sultana’s world, there is no word such as why. In this male dominated society, everything a female does against the wishes of her fathers, brothers or husband.. will ultimately lead her to a painful death.
In her society, a woman lives on the pity of Men, her life is shaped and utterly controlled by men.
It is a short story about Sultana’s life, how SHE dealt with the ignorant rules of her country with some painful stories of Sultana’s acquaintances who fell into the deep hole of torture and death because of these rules.
I would like to start this review by saying that according to me, all the things written in this novel are accurate. Those nonsense rituals are still practiced today. Most of these traditions have no link with Islam, these are old utterly silly traditions practiced by the Arab in the era of Jahiliyah. And so they are considered illegal now not only in Islam, but also in all of the well educated, well developed countries. In Islam, it doesn’t matter if you’re a prince or a pauper; your punishment to a crime would be the same.
But this novel describes how much harm is done by these backward norms of Arab. (Thanks God that I am not Saudi Princess) Though, truth shall be told, some of the traditions described in the novel are actually Islamic. In Islam, Females have particularly lesser rights than men. We, females are only allowed one man at a time while men can have four wives AT A TIME. Oh God, Truly unfair.
ANYWAYS, I love how courageous this sultana is. Though I feel bad for her brother, I dislike how she always puts him into trouble. A happy go lucky sort of sultana. Love her spirit.
Feminists from all over the world would absolutely adore this novel. Men (other than Arabs) would be like oh damn you lucky Arab men, getting girls like that!
Tell you what, I think it’s worth a read!
Wad dua ya Habibi,
Kemal Bey, a thirty something old is living the absolute perfect life. He also has a fiancée, Sibel, A stylish and charming young lady who is the daughter of another wealthy family. But life takes a turn and he meets his really poor distant relative, Fusun, who is 12 years younger than him and he without a doubt, falls in love with her.
For the dignity of my blog, I shall not post how he falls in love with her.
But anyhow he decides to get officially engaged to Sibel and also invites Fusun on his engagement party. The story takes a turn and Fusun is nowhere to be found. He becomes a lovesick crackhead. Sibel, being the good girl that she was, helps Kemal emotionally but alas! ends up breaking up with him for good. After some months Kemal finds Fusun and spends the eight years of his life ‘sitting’ every day or so with Fusun and her family and collecting i.e stealing little things related to Fusun, while showering her with gifts and also helping her family financially.
The story takes a very auspicious turn and Kemal and Fusun decide to get married. All is going well until a calamity befalls them, shattering Kemal’s dreams and destroying his life, for ever.
The novel ends with Kemal Bey, dreamily advising Orhan Pamuk to
‘Let everyone know he lived a very happy life’
In the start, the story was so intense and interesting but suddenly Orhan Pamuk decided to get advantage of this interest and lengthened the story. I felt like it is never going to end. I had to concentrate on every word to understand that he is describing the same feelings of Kemal Bey, just in different words, in a different manner. I was sick of it so I left like 4-5 chapters dedicated to Kemal’s oh so sad feelings.
Secondly, I’m one hundred and one percent sure Fusun was not in love with Kemal, she was just using him for his money and was helped by her mother to do so. I, usually do not hate characters but I cant stop hating Fusun for silently ruining Kemal and using his money. And what kind of guy was Kemal? He did not care the least bit about his widowed mother, in fact he spent more time with Fusun’s mother (who loved him as a son for his money) than his own. In the last 5-6 chapters Fusun accepts indirectly that she was putting up with Kemal because of his money.
Sad, very sad.
No, I’m not sad for Kemal, I’m sad for myself because I actually wasted one entire week on this novel. I’m very sorry to say, Dear Orhan Pamuk, that I’m disappointed. I never really criticize someone’s work like this but you annoyed the hell out of me by the help of this novel!
To be very blunt and honest, this novel is not worth your time. I’d rather drink muddy water, pet a lizard and do Maths than to read it ever again.
All my love,
Well, actually I’m trying to learn French, a language that I’m sure I don’t need to learn because I don’t think my life will ever take me to France or any African country where I’d have to use it. But well, I LOVE travelling and exploring different cultures so you never know. Maybe one day God would have mercy on me and take me to all those places that I really really really want to go.
Well, For today, I learnt eleven phrases.
- Bonjour— Hello!
- Mon prenom est Fiya— My name is Fiya
- Comment allez-vous?— How are you?
- Je suis tres bien— I’m fine
- Je t’aime— I love you
- Mademoiselle— Miss!
- Comment s’appelle ton pere?— What is your father’s name?
- Mon pere s’appelle S.S.M— My father’s name is S.S.M
- Je suis perdu— I am lost
- Aidez-moi!— help me!
- Au Revoir!— Goodbye!
I’m so excited to learn more. When I learn something it makes me feel so useful and valuable. It makes me feel that I’m not totally wasting my life doing nothing and that I’m turning myself into a prized possession. I love learning and expanding my knowledge. For me, learning is a necessary exercise for my brain and I want my brain to be in action 24/7.
I really want to share a power boosting quote with you guys, I’m not really sure who said it but the internet says Mahatma Gandhi said it so I’m giving credits to him.
“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”
Joe walked down the stairs in a hurry, his vision blurring and causing him to miss two steps at a time. He was already late. He had to look at Jade one more time, or maybe last time before she goes to take her class. Her class was just in two minutes. He could not let this opportunity pass, he had to have a glance at his sweetheart, bask in her smile and adore those big blue eyes with lashes so long one could see their shadow on her upper cheeks. Her lips firmly molded and her hair so long, smooth and silky, they reminded him of Arabian silk. Her sweet laugh could mend anyone’s broken heart and fix their torn soul. She was a lovely young beauty, full of life and glamour, a happy go lucky sort. He longed to hold her, to pinch her cheeks, touch her hair and be the cause of her smile. He loved her and he needed her, more than anything in this world. She was his life, without her it was impossible for him to survive.
His heart was thumping so hard he knew he could die at any tick of the clock. He ran in a hurry to the right block where her class was. He looked to the right, and then to the left. He felt like his heartbeat had stopped.
She was not there.
She was gone to her class. He wouldn’t be able to see her today, wouldn’t be able to rejoice in her lovely laugh and who knows about tomorrow? it isn’t promised. His jaw dropped. His eyes suddenly became red, filled with salty water of his emotions. His forehead became sweaty, his vision started blurring and his hands started trembling. Downhearted and low spirited, he raised his hands to himself as if praying to God and stared at his sweaty palms, trying to read the luck lines. He couldn’t believe on his bad luck when suddenly he heard echoes of laughter and two girls coming out of her class as if punished by the teacher.
It was her!
His darling, his angel, his sweet one. Laughing and high-fiving her friend, she stole a glance at Joe who was staring lovingly at her. Not knowing who he is, except that he was a school mate, she passed a confused smile at him. He laughed. How lucky he felt at that moment, She finally noticed him! She finally knew he existed on the last day of his existence.
On the last day of his existence
Even being so attractive that he stood out among his mates like a striking, magnificent jungle cat surrounded by harmless baby kittens, he decided not to propose her. Not because he was afraid to be rejected… but because he knew he won’t be rejected. He smiled at her, for one last time while she giggled with her friend, standing out of the class, completely unaware of the fact that this handsome young man standing right in front of him is madly in love with her, and also, that he is suffering from Brain cancer, a disease of which he was sure he is not going to survive because his doctors had already told him so. The cancer had spread, causing a severe headache, seizures and vision blurring. He came to school every day, just to catch a glimpse of her one more time, to listen to her laughter and to look at her and pray to God to give her all the happiness in the world, and to give him a chance to catch a sight of her,just one more time.
Just one more time
It was his last day on Earth, last day with her.
But the first day of his existence in the eyes of his beloved.
My basic struggle as a young blogger is the language barrier. English is my third language, the first two being Urdu and Punjabi. I usually have a lot of ideas and expressions in my mind but as cool and amusing they sound in Urdu, when I convert them into English they seem absurd and boring.
My second struggle or fear—whatever you call it, is that I’m afraid to get judged. I mean, I’ve a lot to say on my mind but I dare not transform them into words, fearing that I will be labeled as ‘young ungrateful narcissist B****’
My third struggle is writing to please my audience. I think twice about posting stuff on wordpress because I’m afraid no one would appreciate my work and reject me. But Getting rejected is everyone’s greatest fear, isn’t it?
I’m currently trying to confront my fears and sparing no effort to make sense of my words. I hope that I succeed in it.
I love it how people on Word press tell me that I don’t seem to be so young, I’m like that since forever. My grandpa says I have a 50 year old head on my 17 years old shoulder.
Really Grandpa? Am I as smart as a 50 year old? Well, Nevermind.
But Oh, don’t underestimate me; I’m still as cool as a cucumber ;)
With this post, I continue my journey as a young blogger.