The tale of Hansel and Gretel had been one of my childhood favourites. As a child I was fascinated by the house made of eatables. I read the tale for what I thought it was, a tale. There was nothing from it I could see in the world around me then.
A while ago, as I read the tale to my little child, I could no longer dwell on the delicious house. The cruelty that Hansel and Gretel faced in the tale makes me empathise with them. Yes, today around me, I have heard of many young boys and girls in their place. Sadly, they don't get to live a happily ever after back with their beloved father.
One can never know I guess whether literature imitates life or life expresses literature. They are so closely intertwined. Otherwise, how could a tale that was centuries old bring tears to my eyes even today?
