Why the Elephant has Tiny Eyes: Q and A with author Pow Aim Hailowng

                

             The first chaang, the first elephant, once had big eyes,

Which the animals thought looked beautiful and wise.

Then along comes a little wagtail and changes the chaang forever! So goes this hilarious folktale told by the Tai Phake, a lesser-known community from India’s northeast to which the author, Pow Aim Hailowng, belongs. Here’s what she has to say about the book (illustrated by the inimitable Priya Kuriyan), and why she wrote it. 

What was the inspiration to retell this folktale?

I relate the Tai Phake folktales to my mother narrating them as she prepared food or did other work, then to my father starting to tell them in the midst of a normal conversation, and one of the tales, in fact, to my grandfather who narrated it as we sat soaking in the winter sun. Years later, I realised that most of these tales were a lot of ‘why’s’. Like ‘Why the Elephant has Tiny Eyes’, ‘why does the cock crow when the sun rises?’, ‘why does the cuckoo lay her eggs in a crow’s nest?’, ‘why do some monkeys have red bottoms?’ and so on. They were all adorable and funny. I thought it would be nice to share these stories with other kids. As an adult, I thought the Tai Phake was among the lesser known tribes. Stories would be a good way to start introducing children to these tribes and about the existence of other ways of life.

Why did you choose verse over prose for this story?

As kids, we had to remember poems by heart to write them during exams. I always found it easy to remember poems that employed a rhyme scheme. For example, R. L. Stevenson’s poems, Travel – ‘I would like to rise and go, where the golden apples grow’, and The Vagabond– ‘Give to me the life I love, Let the lave go by me, Give the jolly heaven above, And the byway nigh me’, are still etched in my memory. Primarily because they rhymed and had a singsong wave to their rhythm. Of course, I understood their deeper meanings only years later. So when I tried to recall what I loved as a kid, and how easy it was to grasp something in verse form, I realized that kids would enjoy verse more. But, I also had a lot of fun rhyming the words.

How was the experience of telling this story to children? How did they respond to it?

At all those times when I told the story, children were curious to learn. ‘Why the Elephant has Tiny Eyes’ has a wagtail bird, not usually found or seen in most places in India. So, the children want to know more about how they really look or where they can be found. The book, which has some Tai Phake words, also introduces them to a new language and they have been excited to learn them. But, children are also honest. If they are bored, they will tell you outright. So, writing a book for children and reciting it to them are two very different things. I am not sure if I will ever be prepared for their multiple reactions! I have a lot to learn.

When you are not writing stories, what are you usually doing?

I am a doctoral student. So when I am not writing, I am researching to write some more! The only difference is the kind of ‘stories’ I write! Apart from this, I also watch a lot of movies- Marvel series, the clichéd rom-coms, drama and so on.

Who are your favourite children’s authors?

Uncle Pai. He was the editor of the TINKLE magazine. Since he introduced a lot of the 90s kids to reading, I would count him as one of my favourite writers. I received a lovely handwritten letter from him when I was nine or ten years old. It was a rejection for a story I had contributed, but it was inspirational as it spoke to the mind of a nine or ten-year-old about never giving up. I still love reading the old TINKLE comics. Apart from him, my favourite authors would be Enid Blyton and Ruskin Bond.

What other stories would you like to see come alive as books?

The human imagination is limitless. The Harry Potter series is an example of what can be created – a whole new world. But I do feel that no matter what stories come out, there is also the need to talk about the accessibility of those books to every kid. If my book cannot be read by someone who is visually challenged, it means they will not be able to enjoy the same laughter as other kids. When a book is too expensive, it means the story might not reach every kid. Well, these issues keep popping in my mind. But like I said, the human imagination is limitless.

What books are you working on now?

I am still revelling in the satisfied feeling of having had a book in my name. There are more Tai Phake folktales that I would love to share with the world.  

      Want to read this humorous folktale? 

Go ahead, grab your copy here!

                                                        *** 

       

Pow Aim Hailowng belongs to the Tai Phake community. She is one of the few fortunate people who got to pursue higher studies and is currently working on a PhD in Legal Studies. Writing fiction is her passion.

Monkeys, Madcaps and Mayhem

Just in case you missed seeing this video on our youtube channel :), here is Devashish Makhija, filmmaker and writer of When Ali Became Bajrangbali, in action!

The Birth of Ali and Paploo

Writer and filmmaker Devashish Makhija talks about the inspiration behind his two books with Tulika, When Ali Became Bajrangbali and Why Paploo Was Perplexed, which were launced at the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival 2012 earlier this month.

Why should things be the way we are told they should be?

This question has always bothered me.

So if a tree is to be cut down in the name of ‘development’ I’d like to ask why do we need this ‘development’? Can there not be a road that can weave around these trees? After all our mountain highways weave around mountains too. Just because we can’t cut down a mountain! Then why not the same treatment to trees?

And if there is a monkey that we humans call ‘god’ why can’t he solve problems for monkeys too?

Development. God. The Right thing to do. And the Wrong. Light is good. Dark is evil. Obedience is rewarded. Disobedience punished.

Who decided these things for us? And why should we all accept them without questioning them?

This never ending stream of questions breathed life into ALI the monkey, and PAPLOO the perplexed boy. They both asked questions where others were scared to. and they both found their own answers by DOING. Their answers may not hold true for others. but it defines who they are as INDIVIDUALS.

And that’s why questions are so important I feel. Because they always lead to answers. Personal answers. Which makes us unique. And self-made. Because we didn’t accept what others wanted us to. we created our own roads to walk on.

At the animated reading of the two books at Kala Ghoda Arts Festival, Mumbai on February 5th 2012, I was afraid the little ones may not agree with me. But not only did they cheer when Ali and Paploo asked those scary questions, they also crawled up to us even while we were reading and poked their little heads into our books to see who these two were! 

That morning at Kala Ghoda I think several Alis and Paploos took birth.

I hope thousands more do when these books enter their lives. I really believe that those who don’t ASK might never FIND OUT!

All Ali and Paploo are doing is trying to solve the mysteries of their lives on their own. Hopefully we all will too. 

Devashish Makhija

When Baby Bahadur came into this world…

When I told my then five-year old a bedtime story about a sleepy little elephant (in the vain hope that it would induce him to go to sleep early), I had no idea that Baby Bahadur and his friends would sneak in and settle down so decisively in my life. I remember, when the first of the series —  I’m So Sleepy — was published, Radhika Menon did tell me right then that she saw a series in the offing, but I didn’t quite believe her, so it feels slightly surreal that Yes, Hutoxi!, the fifth in the series is coming out this month. Shanmugam popped into my head a few days after I’m So Sleepy was published — I remember getting up from bed and writing out the story in the silence of the night (rather appropriate, for a tale about snoring). And over the years, Kamini and Mallipoo came along to keep Bahadur — and me — steady company.
 

Writing the Baby Bahadur series has been an unexpected source of joy for me — thanks to Deeya for being such a wonderful editor and bouncing board for my ideas, Radhika and Sandhya for their suggestions and encouragement, and Priya for her amazing illustrations. I remember toddling over to Tulika to see the illustrations for I’m So Sleepy and laughing out loud at how she had Bahadur almost cross-eyed with sleepiness — and with each successive book I have been freshly captivated by the vibrance and zany humour with which Priya’s visualization has captured the stories.
 

Indian names are so very evocative… and Indian nicknames can be so very amusing — for me, part of the fun is in wondering what to call a character. Authors are supposed to have a disclaimer that none of their characters are derived from real life — but here I have to admit that while the characters and their personas are, of course, fictitious, almost all the names are taken from people whom I’ve known personally, or are derived from experiences in my life, or are inside jokes in the family. Except — or is it, including? — Gabbar — we all know where he came from! I must hasten to add, however, that I have no idea whether the original Shanmugam snores loudly or whether the original Hutoxi snorts in exasperation, so any resemblance is purely coincidental.

Book readings delight me with the kind of comments and questions kids come up with. Only once did a mother complain to me that she found “all the names so confusing” — I think that is an outlier — I generally find children enjoying the different names  — and remembering the entire cast — right down to all the little chameleons whose names begin with “K” and all Paytu’s babies that end in an “oo”. Though a disapproving young reader once ticked me off sternly for using a “bad word” (Kamini) and looked unconvinced at my explanation that it is pronounced Kaaamini — such are the perils of transliteration.
 

Snoring Shanmugam  is usually the favourite — the last time I read this out, I sat with one hand poised like a conductor (orchestra, not bus) and told them to yell ‘khorhrhrh…’ when my hand was raised high, and to whisper ‘phsheew’ when I brought my hand down — the sound effects resulted in gales of laughter, with some of them confidentially whispering to me that “my papa also snores like that”. To such sufferers I have strongly recommended Amma’s technique to stop the khorhrhrhible sounds. Even Gabbar seems to have his own subversive fan following — I encountered one bloodthirsty little fellow who stood at my knee and whispered, “Yes, yes, eat all of them” when Gabbar made his appearance.
 

A little while back someone told me her family called her a “Snoring Shanmugam”; once a gentleman told me that his son was “such a forgetful Bahadur”; recently a blog post talked of a person in a multicoloured outfit being called a “colour colour Kamini” while another said her daughter insists on being called Mallipoosundari. It is a delightful and moving  feeling to hear of readers taking my characters so warmly into their lives.
 

“So, what’s the next one about?” is something I often get asked. Well, I have no idea just now, but I am sure Bahadur and his pals will let me know soon enough.

- Radhika Chadha, Author

Writing creatively in the company of Tulika books

This was the first time I have ‘taught’ creative writing. I read voraciously and am at a loss if I don’t have a book on standby to read after my current one. Books open up worlds that I may never inhabit, with perspectives very different from my own. Words are used with such skill that I am under the spell of the author. How do I open up these worlds to young children so that they are never alone when there are books in this world? How do I nurture children’s curiosity and the urge to express themselves without fear and with joy?

These were my thoughts when I agreed to ‘teach’ creative writing to six mixed-age classrooms with second, third, and fourth standard children. I had noticed that these children were extremely articulate while speaking but were strangely reticent when they had to write. So I decided my goal, if you will, in this first year was to create spaces in the classroom where children were free to express themselves without the shadow of criticism, evaluation, or that looming demon – spelling mistakes.

I realized that one needs access to good quality writing in order to learn to recognize it and acquire the skills to write well. Of course, there is no dearth of good children’s literature. But I wanted the children to realize that well written books that are interesting to read, with thought provoking illustrations need not be from the West but published in India; that characters need not have exotic, English names to be interesting.

We read, It’s Only a Story by Cathy Spagnoli when we discussed where authors get their ideas from. Children loved the circular nature of the story and enjoyed predicting what was going to happen next. A couple of children even commented how it reminded them of Hen Sparrow Turns Purple. I used Snoring Shanmugam and Colour-Colour Kamini to illustrate how one uses characters and setting to tell stories. They welcomed the characters back in Colour-Colour Kamini as if they were reunited with old friends they thought they would never meet again.

My biggest surprise was with Mukand and Riaz by Nina Sabnani. It so happened that I read the story to some of the classes soon after the Bombay blasts. Class teachers were disturbed to hear some of the children talk and comment disparagingly about Muslims, especially as there were Muslim students in the classes. Mukand and Riaz made the whole situation real to the children, provided a historical context, and the children could identify with the characters. “Muslims” became real people, real children, just like them and not some demonised abstraction. They loved the surprise they got when they realized that Mukand was the author’s father and the ‘story’ really happened. The illustrations in all the books I used extended the children’s imagination and they remarked how they help in hooking their interest in making them want to read further.

Using Indian literature that the children could relate to made story writing accessible and possible in children’s minds, opening them up to the notion that they could write interesting, enjoyable stories set in familiar contexts, that they need not be exotic and ‘foreign’, that they too could write stories that others would want to read.

- Bharati Srinivasan, Special Educator and Creative Writing Facilitator