The South Indian Festival of Lights

Posted on By csoundar

My mum and Dad are so pleased that I am in India on the day of the festival of lights after a long time. In some southern parts of India, the festival of lights – Karthigai Deepam is celebrated from yesterday until Monday. It is confusing to anyone who doesn’t speak Tamil or Telugu – because it is hardly celebrated across the rest of India.

The streets are filled with lamp sellers – we use clay-lamps mostly and then tall bronze ones and lots of small bronze ones too. Some people would have silver ones just at the altar.  We light using oil and cotton wick.

lamps

Then of course the main sweet for this festival is a ball of sugared-puffed-rice called Pori Urundai – it is so sweet that it bruises your tongue.

poriurundai

On Diwali, which translates to a row of lamps, most of India celebrates with lamps except the South. The south waits a few weeks and celebrates the festival of lights in the lunar month of Karthiga on a full-moon day.

We began preparing the lamps and lighted them inside the house and outside.

While India is a singular entity for the outside world – India is hardly homogenous. We are multi-cultural, multi-lingual, multi-religious just within India. We have every religion that the world practices and every religious sect within Hinduism and we always took for granted that the world was different and we had to live with that. We never had a situation where everyone looked the same, spoke the same that being different was difficult.

So we have three different reasons why we celebrate Diwali and how we celebrate it is very different too. So while the North celebrates Diwali with lamps to mark the occasion of Rama returning from Lanka on a new moon night, the south doesn’t light a row of lamps for Diwali. We wait until Karthigai Deepam and then light our lamps. We do save up the firecrackers from Diwali and burst them on this day. And even Karthigai Deepam has three different reasons for celebration depending on what your religious inclinations are.

In this difference lies some similarities too – when Diwali is celebrated in the north, one of the days is ear-marked for sisters praying for their brothers. Similarly when we celebrate Karthigai Deepam a few weeks later in the south, we too have a day earmarked for brothers. We pray for our brothers and visit them and eat together. As a kid, I remember all families from my Mum’s side would congregate at my Grandpa’s house – they were two brothers and three sisters and we would pray for each other’s siblings – I didn’t have a brother – so we prayed for our cousins and secretly for our classmates too.

The other common factor of course is great food, festival specials and temples that pray for the entire nation – with the coming of cable TV, the temples broadcast these prayers to a wider audience and my mum and dad were glued to the TV set this morning to watch the prayers in a city far away.

In a modern busy life where we all are running about – perhaps it is not a bad idea to have a day earmarked for siblings – so you could get together, think of each other if you can’t be together and enjoy good food regardless.IMG_0569

Inspired by India’s Traffic

Posted on By csoundar

My writing is like the Indian traffic. 

chennai_traffic

It’s chaotic , it is filled with impatience, blaring horns and swerving bikes. I don’t plan much when I write just like the city planners in India. If I plan, I lose my interest to write – at least at the beginning. I have some stories mapped out fully, with outlines, chapter breakdowns and character sketches. Then I put them away because the joy of the telling was satisfied with all of the work I put into the prep. There was nothing left to tell the full story.

Perhaps my impatience is the reason I prefer writing in 12 spreads. Not because I don’t want to write longer text. I want to and love to. But I want the story to be told quickly and with little words. I imagine the pictures. I know what I am saying in the pictures and what in the text. Sometimes I wish I could draw or learnt drawing. I grew up without drawing a single picture, colouring or painting. Except for the once-in-a-childhood experience of egg-shell painting, I stuck to writing, stamp-collecting and reading. It never occurred to me that I could draw or even try learning.

Now I am learning to doodle and the children in my school visits tell me I’m not that bad. I guess it is all in the practice and of course if I start now, perhaps I could be an illustrator when I am 75.

I digress. I’ve been in India for a week now for my book-launch and related stuff. And I’ve been thinking of my writing as the traffic that moves around here. There is no lane discipline – but in many roads, there are no lane markings. Like when I write fiction – there are rules, but no formulae. I just have to figure it out as I go and if I have gotten lost in the melee, I have to find my way back.

IMG_0727I have so many new ideas since I came a week ago. I went to some beautiful old places in Delhi and Chennai, listened to sounds and breathed in smells of this place. Now what I need is a route map to convert one of the ideas into a story without getting lost. It needs patience – the patience to find my way, the patience to finish the journey even if i have to make a lot of detours and wrong turns. I need to trust my driving and not worry about the lanes. I need to make eye-contact with the characters I create and not just wait for traffic lights to tell me how to proceed. IMG_0718And of course call upon the myriad gods in bronze, wood and stone to guide me . 

Connemara_Public_Library_Chennai_18212I am heading to one of the oldest libraries in Chennai – the Connemara this week before I head back to London to find some research on the ideas I have. This trip has been inspiring in many ways – and the traffic is one of those urban miracles in India that has triggered me to draw the parallels with my writing.

Bookaroo – Day 1 – Launch Day

Posted on By csoundar

Header-logo-unit-DELHI2Bookaroo had begun. It was the 29th of November 2014. The launch of Farmer Falgu Goes to the Market was scheduled for 3 pm. I had a nice lie-in and then decided to go to the pool to write and prepare for the event.

pool-low

But it was  not to be. The lovely pool manager decided that I might enjoy some blaring music at 10 am and switched on the loudspeakers. I retreated to the safety of my room which was a good thing because I decided to tell the story and practice the song.

The cleaners were on the corridor and must have been terribly confused by the noise coming out of my room with nursery rhymes and sounds from the story.

I reached Bookaroo venue quite early and met up with my editor Nithya who had come all the way from Chennai for the event. We took charge of The Stage 30 minutes before the event and started getting ready.

bookaroo-launchday-2

The crowd was building up and we started at three with a massive countdown with the support of the audience. Then we sang Farmer Falgu Had a Farm – a remastered version of the Old MacDonald had a Farm with AiyaaahyayyyaYo! Then we told the story from the first book Farmer Falgu Goes on a Trip.

bookaroo-launchday-12

Each child in the audience was given a raffle ticket and we put the tickets in a hat and pulled out a number. The lucky winner was the receiver of the first book of Farmer Falgu Goes to the Market.

bookaroo-launchday-9

After the official launch, we counted down in Hindi this time and then I told the story of the second book ending with a fantastic recipe for an omelette – we chopped, we broke eggs and we sizzled under the warmth of the winter sun in Delhi. Then we sang  a new song that I had written for the second book.

bookaroo-luanchday-13

A very big crowd, a very participative audience of children and parents and a good queue for signing – what else does an author want for a launch?

bookaroo-launchday-15

Frequently Asked Falgu Facts

Posted on By csoundar
  1. Why Farmer Falgu? Why that name?

Firstly why not? falgucloseupI wanted an Indian farmer going on a journey meeting lots of Indian characters in the story. That was the start of it. In picture booksI cannot set the scene with a lot of text. So giving him to the title Farmer would be a shorthand to explaining who he is.

Falgu I made up originally – close to Falgun, but not that word. And then closer to when the book was coming out I realized Falgu was a river in Central India and has significance to Sita in Ramayana. What a wonderful coincidence.

And then when Kanika Nair did the pictures, she made him a farmer from Rajasthan – perhaps because she was living there at that time. We love Farmer Falgu with his turban and on his bullock cart. We would be introducing his wife too in the later books.

  1. Isn’t the concept of a farmer story more western? Is it because you are British?

This is the second most frequent thing I’m asked about, in India. Especially by other people in the publishing trade.

I grew up in India and left India only when I was 28. My grandparents came from small villages and their families still have land in those villages. I have lived near a small village and have visited farms. I am not a farmer myself, but I know a little about them. I am city girl myself. So I am fascinated with farms.

India is a bigger agricultural country than Britain. So why can’t we portray a farmer in children’s books in India? Don’t we have even urban farmers with chickens? We have farmers who have cows and bulls and bullock carts?

I wanted to bring the joy of Farmer Duck and Mr. Gumpy’s Outing to Indian readers in my own way.

  1. Aren’t farmers in India suffering in poverty and are not as joyful and happy as your Farmer Falgu?

In today’s world – we have suffering everywhere.  Do we always have to focus on the suffering? Or rather when we write for children, should we tell them, not to try harder because the world is full of suffering anyway?

There are farmers and potters and artists and so many other professions struggling to rise above a certain economic level. But who is to say they are not happy and brave and resourceful? If we are suffering, should we all be in despair as well?

Farmer Falgu is not rich. Neither does he live in a big house. Farmer Falgu is happy; he is resourceful and he has the spirit of seeing the best in all situations. He is a glass-half-full kind of guy. He doesn’t let the situation of subsidies, the water problems in Rajasthan or the local panchayat elections get in his way of being happy.

Like me, Falgu too, believes in the following words of William Henley.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

 

 

  1. Farmer Falgu Goes on a Trip is about finding silence. Why did you write a book about silence? Isn’t this too complicated for children to understand? Why that ending?

The theme of the book originated in my own experience that the world, this earth, this universe even, is never silent. Silence in a vacuum is not real and not good. Silence is absolute and Quiet is not. Joyous things are loud – like a baby being born would cry. Even a giraffe makes sounds that humans can’t hear but its own family can.image description

There is a time to be quiet and there is a time to reflect. But that is not silence. That is just quiet. Like the morning quiet that is filled with bird noises. Like the night quiet that has lizard sounds and a distant sound of a bark from a street dog.

I like both. I like the laughter and noise of a busy and happy family. Like a big Indian wedding and I like the quiet of sitting in a corner reading a book. I wanted children to understand that.

Children get it. When I perform in schools and libraries, we all make a lot of noise and we all stay quiet. Children are quick to point out sounds that they hear in the night when everything is supposedly quiet. Some don’t. Some sleep deep and do not hear anything. That’s fine – everyone’s different.

The book is about Farmer Falgu having a moment of busyness in his head and he escapes from it. But not for long because the old man plays his drums and the snake charmer plays the pungi and the dancers tap their feet. The bullocks are trotting noisily too. What Farmer Falgu realizes is that his farm is not a difficult place to live – just joyous. Sometimes you just have to get away from everything to realize what you miss.

Children don’t just enjoy the words and sounds. They get the theme. Granted 2 year olds might not understand it rightaway. But this will emerge later on when they could grasp it. My little nephew Isaac loves the book and he loves the ssssh part of it and the noisy part of it. Those adults who listen to the story and listen to the inner theme like children do, also get it.

But it is okay not to get it too. You don’t have to understand, relate to, enjoy or even feel good about every book you read. Reading a book is like meeting someone. Maybe Farmer Falgu is not someone you love. That’s okay. Maybe you like Mr. Magnolia. Maybe you love both of them in different ways. Art is subjective, stories are personal and books are therefore what you  make of them.

  1. Why isn’t there a moral in the story? Is the moral – you have to make noise? Is it a moral for the parents?

Moral is different from theme. Do we need moralistic tales all the time? I know much of Indian publishing has an educational focus.

But many books are being published especially by publishers like Karadi Tales that are for the joy of reading.

Books are meant to enrich your life. They show you different aspects of life – be it a small topic like silence and quiet of the natural world or about looking at a situation positively. But that enrichment and theme is after the joy of the story. The story, the words, the sounds, the pictures should bring joy first. Then the underlying theme (not moral) would emerge slowly like a seed that is planted.

This book doesn’t have a moral. It has a theme that I intended when I started. It has interesting characters, words, sounds and beautiful pictures by Kanika Nair. It is a joy to look, read and listen to. That’s what matters.

  1. Is Farmer Falgu a series?

Yes, the second book Farmer Falgu Goes to the Market is out on 29th November at Bookaroo Literature Festival in New Delhi.

Farmer Falgu Goes to the Market - Book Launch at Bookaroo

Again this book is about Farmer Falgu being resourceful, looking positively at life and dealing with a situation that most of us worry about.

Falgu_2 CoverWe are hoping there would be more stories about Farmer Falgu from this team. In the same spirit of Falgu, I think positively about the future and what it might bring.

 

How my Fascination with Eggs turned into Farmer Falgu Goes to the Market

Posted on By csoundar

Falgu_2 Cover

I don’t like to eat eggs as eggs. Mix them up in a cake and if I can’t smell it or taste it and I ‘m fine.

eggs

But drape an egg over fried rice like they do in Singapore and Malaysia, or on top of a pie or layers of thick eggs in a pastry or a frittata – no thanks!

As a south Indian Iyengar, growing up, my only experience with eggs was traumatic and pehaps once fun. I had some weird nutritional deficiency called Primary Complex. Sounds like the old building in my school. So I had to eat more protein.

I can hear my gym trainer Jay say – you could never get the protein you need from just lentils. True enough when I was 6 or 7, the doctor said I had to eat eggs. Perhaps he didn’t mean raw. But I was in an orthodox Brahmin family which doesn’t cook eggs or go to a restaurant that does.

So whether or not the doctor said it had to be raw. Because it was an egg, it couldn’t come into the house.  The eggs were purchased by a maid and brought in to the bathroom via the backdoor. Bathroom was the place you could wash off impurities before entering the house.rawegg

So the maid would crack open the egg, pour it raw into a glass of milk (I repeat glass of milk, not a tumbler we normally use – because this is egg, we can’t use household things), and made me drink it.

That put an end to any kind of love affair that could have blossomed later in life with eggs. I hated the smell of it. I couldn’t swallow it without screaming and crying.

Then when I was 11, I foolishly entered the egg-shell painting competition. It was foolish in hindsight but as usual impulsive and adventurous for me – because I didn’t realize I had to crack the egg a little and take all the stuff out and of course I had never painted anything before – I didn’t even own a paint set.

So I dragged my religious mum to the big hall where this was happening, and we cracked open eggs, poured the goo out all the while my mum muttering why I never check with her before entering competitions like this – but she was good natured about it and then I copied what others did as they painted.eggshellpainting

That’s it – by the time I encountered eggs was much later when I was in Singapore working in a bank, for long hours and going to the shop opposite my office for some dinner – and the man brought vegetarian fried rice with a fried egg on top.

egg1

The white waters and the yellow island – that fascinated me. I still love to see the yellow blob float in a cup when I make cakes. I love the sizzle of chillies and onions, the mixture of coriander and the how the egg turns into an omlette.

Visually it is a treat. That’s it. The rest of it – I don’t like. I don’t like the texture of a fried egg. I don’t like to eat them. But I love to make them.

And that fascination found its way into my next book Farmer Falgu Goes to the Market.

There are eggs in this story. There is coriander of course. And tomatoes, and chillies. A sizzling pan too. And there is an ……

cooking

You have to read the book and find out what happens next!

And of course you’re invited to the launch party at the 7th Bookaroo in New Delhi on the 29th November (just 8 days away…)

Farmer Falgu Goes to the Market - Book Launch at Bookaroo

We have songs as usual, all Farmer Falgu books have songs. We will introduce everyone to Farmer Falgu’s friends from Book 1 too.

So don’t miss the opportunity to break some eggs!