RED INK

The first time I got applauded for writing, I was six years old, maybe almost seven. It was at my paternal grandparents’ home in Calcutta. My parents and I had come down for a vacation from New Delhi. My first story, a suspicious blend of two or more fairy tales, was one they had already heard. This time though they asked me to read it out loud to my grandparents as well.

In spite of the many decades that have passed since that moment, I still remember how it felt to have a captive audience and how much the four of them clapped after I finished reading my story. I had written it in red ink, by then established in my mind as the ink of choice of all my teachers at school, and so, undoubtedly, powerful. Why wouldn’t I channel that? Why would I write with anything but that?

That applause has stayed with me all these years. It’s what’s buoyed me up during all those years and years of my books coming close to getting a contract with a publishing house and then not. That applause and the encouraging words I received that day, convinced me to no end that my words were valuable, that there was an audience for it, that they needed it.

Ha!

I don’t have that epic level of confidence in my writing any longer. It’s hard to maintain that level of confidence when my writing has been rejected as often as it has. But I write because it’s more important to me than anyone’s approval or any book contract. I write because I love it more than anything else. I write because that’s how I make sense of the world and hold on to what I need to. That applause in my grandparents’ drawing room also makes me want to rush out to all the six-year-olds in the world, and tell them they and their dreams and their passions, likes, and loves matter.

Some things haven’t changed. Red is still my favorite color. It still reminds me of my school teachers. Most of them nice. Some not so. But all of them, powerful. Why the hell wouldn’t I channel that?

Photo courtesy: Jenn.jpeg @jenn_jpeg

An A to Z List

I wanted to update my blog but couldn’t think of a specific topic. So I responded to every letter of the alphabet with the first thought that came to my head.

1.       Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves: the first story I learned to read in English. It was the day after my sixth birthday. It was the Ladybird edition, and I felt very proud, accomplished, and independent in the moment. It kills me that there are 773 million illiterate adults in the world today, most of whom are women.

2.       Baba: what I call my dad. Easily, one of the best, most reliable, and trustworthy sounds in my life.

3.       Chhaya: my maternal grandmother’s name. It means “shadow” or “reflection” in Sanskrit. In Hindu mythology, Chhaya and Sanjana are the two consorts of Surya, the Sun God.

4.       Dilli: Delhi. Home.

5.       Equinox: such a cool word though I don’t think I quite know how it’s different from “solstice.” Yes, you may tell me. I will forget. That’s okay. No one needs to know everything. I bet you don’t know the name of Amrita Singh’s character in Suryavanshi. It’s Suryalekha. Fine, I didn’t know it either and had to Google it.    

6.       Falak: a word for “sky” in Urdu. When used in writing or speech, I believe it’s to imply immensity or enormity. Urdu isn’t a language I know but it would be neat to learn.

7.       Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne: a beloved story, and subsequently, movie for children in Bangla, although its multiple layers make it like Shrek, in that it has enough complexity to make it riveting for adults. However, unlike Shrek, GGBB has no feisty Fiona. In this adventure story of a musician and a singer, women are completely absent. Is it still a good story for children if it excludes 50% of them?

8.       Huckleberry Finn: what a cool kid! My first literary crush. He is “lawless,” independent, and doesn’t go to school. When you are a kid yourself, why wouldn’t such a badass be your role model?

9.       Ikrimikri: the first word of a children’s rhyme in Bangla. The word itself doesn’t mean anything as far as I know. It’s been adopted into my Bengali-Sikh household though, as the go-to term for itchy fabrics and textiles.  

10.   Juniper Tree: a Brothers Grimm fairy tale replete with evil stepmother, children “as white as snow,” stew seasoned by tears, a song that starts with the words, my mother, she killed me, my father, he ate me….What more does a story need?

11.   Kanishka: one of ancient India’s greatest emperors. A staunch upholder of religious syncretism. Funny that nearly 2,000 years since he was around, we need his beliefs more than ever before.

12.   Laura Lyons: a key character in the best Sherlock Holmes novel The Hound of the Baskervilles.

13.   Ma: self-explanatory. How I wish I was eating her mutton curry for dinner tonight.  

14.   Nabanipa: the name of my Pishi, or paternal aunt. She is my buddy, my pal, my partner in eating ice cream, the BEST person when it comes to reading stories out loud. She is funny and generous. Being in her world means being surrounded by love, affection, great shopping, and good food.   

15.   Obstinate: one time in a weeklong-writing workshop, the instructor told us to choose a word that best represents us. This was mine.

16.   Pomegranate: I love the word. I love how the fruit resembles tiny, gleaming rubies; that it makes you work hard to taste it; and that it’s been a staple in so many ancient myths and folk tales. 

17.   Quetzalcoatl: one of the words I learned after coming to the Western Hemisphere. I still don’t pronounce it right, but I love how it looks and sounds, and I know it’s the name of a Meso-American deity.  

18.   Rajasthan: good food, terrific silver jewelry, history everywhere your gaze lands, plus the site of memorable vacations for my family and I, given that this is our neighboring state. In the golden city of Jaisalmer, I remember we stayed at one of the original homes inside the ramparts of the 12th century fort. Also, I am not calling Jaisalmer “golden” out of sentimentality. It’s called so for the yellow sand and sandstone used extensively in the city’s architecture.  

19.   Serendipity: I love how this sounds, but it took me forever to remember its meaning.

20.   Thai food: if someone forces me to give up Indian food and choose something else that I would happily eat for every meal.

21.   Umbrella Man: One of Roald Dahl’s many, many amazing stories for children. His short stories for adults remain among my favorites. They are so creepy and delicious.

22.   Vlad’s Castle: Granted, history and fiction aren’t the same, but I couldn’t have imagined the intro video would have such soothing music.

23.   Willow: I think every Enid Blyton book had a willow tree somewhere.

24.   Xi: one of the most useful words to know for Scrabble purposes.

25.   Yellow: oddly showing up in a lot of my home décor these days.

26.   Zed: Not zee. No, if I haven’t changed my pronunciation in 14 years, I will not be doing so now.  

Three Gazes of Attention

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Learning English was one of the most confusing times of my life. Here's an essay on that weirdness, with apologies to my Ma, for my unending questions & stubbornness. "Shortly after my fifth birthday, Ma began teaching me English. It made zero sense. Least of all, the words “he” and “she,” because in Bengali, my mother tongue, nothing and no one has any gender, and if you say “he” and “she” quickly and together, the resulting word “he-she,” means to piss, something Ma had taught me just a few days ago to not shout out loud, especially when we were in public, but to come to her side and whisper. And yet, here she was flouting her own rules, telling me these words were not only okay to say but that without them I would never learn to speak English. What did that even mean? Why did I need to speak in English? What was even English?"

Thank you, Pangyrus, and editor extraordinaire Artress Bethany White, for giving this essay a home! Also, I LOVE the accompanying picture! The yellow background, the white mug, and the coffee—they have my heart.