The review first appeared on
I won’t say I don’t read children’s books. If I chance upon a good children’s fiction I dive right into it, simply because I find them richer in imagination.
Growing Up Messy is a heart warming story which reminded me parts of my childhood having born and brought up in a 2nd tier city of Bengal. Misry’s escapades during afternoon hours truly made me connect with her. How many afternoons I must have spent doing the same! How much patience my mother would have shown to tolerate my disobedience.
Right from the character Misry to the descriptions of the world around her and the innocent naughty acts that Misry aka Messy got into reminded me of Tagore’s short stories as well.
I think it fits a much wider range of readers apart from middle grade. It can be a good read for mothers because it captures psychology of children and I personally feel it also sets standards for the modern parent. Things like not over indulging your child, making your kid realise the difference between want and need. The very busy parents of today who have high purchasing ability sometimes forget that indulgence is not always the answer. A story like this can be a gentle reminder to them while they read it out as a bedtime story for the young ones.