Skip to main content

P.S. I love you


Holly is this person who loses her husband to cancer........she loved him very much and it looks like she is not gonna be able to cope up with the death.........but then there is a surprise (which i dont want to spoil) .....Holly gradually learns to move on........what i like about this book is how realistically her emotions are portrayed...........its well worded and you really relate to the main character.........i feel that it can be read by both the sexes......guys might think that it's a girly book but still according to me they should give it a try.....i haven't met a guy who has read it yet so i dont know how guys feel bout the book.....girls without a doubt will love this book...... btw the movie P.S. I love you is based on this book......

COST: Rs. 175
PAGES: 503 ( but the handwriting is big.....so it doesn't turn out that long)

Comments

reeti said…
I've watched the film...starring Hilary Swank and Gerard Butler..:)
the hobbit said…
hey reeti hows the movie???....i did not see million dollar baby so i dont know much about Hillary Swank's acting.......i might watch it if u tell me its good..........
Tshhar Mangal said…
I saw the movie,Million dollar baby.
Good one.
I heard This I love you one is not very good movie
Is it true?

Also read

Does India need communal parties?

I think, it was Tan's post on this blog itself, Republic Day Event, where this question was raised. My answer. YES. we need communal parties even in Independent, Secular India. Now let me take you, back to events before 1947. When India was a colony of the British Empire. The congress party, in its attempt to gain momentum for the independence movement, heavily used Hinduism, an example of which is the famous Ganesh Utsav held in Mumbai every year. Who complains? No one. But at that time, due to various policies of the congress, Muslims started feeling alienated. Jinnah, in these times, got stubborn over the need of Pakistan and he did find a lot of supporters. Congress, up till late 1940's never got bothered by it. And why should we? Who complains? No one. But there were repercussions. The way people were butchered and slaughtered during that brief time when India got partitioned, was even worse than a civil war scenario. All in the name of religion. And there indeed was cr...

Debate : Do the ends justify the means...

Note : Give it all a fair thought before you jot down... Flaming and religion-bashing will not be tolerated. Your participation is gladly appreciated. I dunno if you folks remember this incident; a couple of yrs back, the UPSC exam had a question where the emainee had to assert his views on *revolutionary terrorism* initiated by Bhagat Singh. As is typical of the government, hue and cry was not far behind... Anyway, let us look at some facts -   Bhagat Singh was an atheist, considered to be one of the earliest Marxist in India and in line with hi thinking, he renamed the Hindustan Republican Party and called it the Hindustan Socialist Revolutionary Party. Bhagat Finally, awaiting his own execution for the murder of Saunders, Bhagat Singh at the young age of 24 studied Marxism thoroughly and wrote a profound pamphlet “Why I am an Atheist.” which is an ideological statement in itself. The circumstances of his death and execution are worth recounting. Although, Bhagat Singh had a...

Spill the Tea: The regret of not loving someone who loved you

Aarohi admits the regret no one talks about: not having feelings for the one person who loved her without conditions. Still close, still cared for, yet emotionally untouched, she now lives with regret and the fear that no one will ever show up like that again. Part of the Spill the Tea series, this story explores desire, guilt, and the cost of delayed regret. --- Aarohi arrived with her bag slung over one shoulder, rain still caught in the ends of her hair. She shook it out at the door, apologising for nothing in particular, and stepped inside like she already belonged to the space. “I didn’t want to catch you off guard,” she said when I opened the door. She stepped in and looked around the kitchen like she was orienting herself, even though she had been here before. “I brought nothing,” she said. “I’m sorry.” “That’s fine,” I said. “I already cooked.” “It smells nice,” she said. “What did you make?” Her eyes went to the counter. Pav bhaji. Masala idli. Everything covered, stil...