Starting... THE TULIKA BOOK CLUB!

We’ve had a slew of new in our fiction list, with the total now hitting half-century! It’s boom-time in general for children’s fiction and time too, we thought, to get some cosy, critical conversations going among those who read it. So here it is – the Tulika Book Club! Starting with eight-to twelve-year-olds, we hope to eventually have sessions for tinies, tweens and teens… to make their hearts beat for books. With readings, word games, language play and some writerly dabbling by the young ones themselves, the sessions will be facilitated by Tulika author and acclaimed writer Sandhya Rao. Here’s what’s on her mind.

1.      Why do you think young readers need a Book Club?

For the same reason that adults want book clubs: to spend time talking about books and how much they love to read and what new books they've discovered, and what new ideas these books have thrown up, and to argue about their favourite books and characters and share with each other why they love books and reading so much. In the process, make those who are not such avid readers feel jealous of all the fun they're having and be tempted to read books themselves and give themselves a chance to fall in love with the different worlds that books create. 

2.       What approach will you take for the Book Club?

Open interactions, and gentle encouragement to read and discover for oneself. Together, discover how vast and interconnected the world of books is, and how closely intertwined with life.

3.       How different is the Book Club from an activity centre?

Reading is not an activity, it's a way of life. So, we will either revel in this way of life or create pathways to it. Reading will be approached through reading, not any other activity. And sharing the passion. Here, everyone's the same, we all will learn about books and characters and worlds from each other. Reading happens everywhere, all the time: it doesn't require time and space, only a mindset. It exists in itself and for itself.

4.       Is the book club for voracious readers or light readers?

The book club is for everybody. Different people read at different speeds and levels. All that it requires is the desire to read, a curiosity about books.

5.       Will books from other publishers be covered in the Book Club?

Yes of course. Books know no barriers. A good book is a good book and it's wonderful that so many publishers all over the world are creating great books.

6.       What preparation should parents do to send their children to the Tulika Book Club?

Just let their children read. Give them access to books. And maybe read books themselves, also the books their children recommend. Basically, chill. And if they're very keen, they're welcome to sit in on occasion.

7.       Is there any preparation required for the children to do before they attend the Book Club?

Just be aware that this is about books and reading. So, yes, they should be ready to meet new books and authors and be willing to make time to read. So, it's a mindset thing. But, not to worry. No preparation is required. It's not a test or anything. It's a space to share.

The Tulika Book Club will meet twice a month, on Saturdays between 4 and 5.30 pm at the Tulika Bookstore, Alwarpet. Sign up now! Write to reachus@tulikabooks.com.

On Mango Service

We've had inspired entries for the blogathon and after sharing some delicious aamras (friends of Tulika *hint*) with us at work, Sandhya shares her mango story...

Mangoes always remind of my little cousin – who is now not so little anymore. When we were growing up in seventies Madras, our backyard was full of mango trees. Smooth banganapalli, delicious eaten green, scrumptious eaten golden yellow. 

Me when I was 15

The fruits would lie piled up on hay in the store room, with our grandmother checking on them every day, turning them this way and that, rescuing the ones at the bottom, bringing them up for air.

During school time, we cousins lived in our own homes. Come the summer holidays, our cousins from abroad would visit and all of us congregated at our home to do ‘dingana’ as my dad would say. But whatever we did, wherever we went, the time after lunch was always spent at home, upstairs. And the time after lunch was always for mangoes.

My little cousin, all of five, and then six, seven was deputed every year to serve us our mangorial repast. And was she proud! 

My little cousin

First, she’d go to the kitchen and pick up a small round plate. Then she’d go to the store room and pick out two ripe mangoes. Then she’d wash them clean, place them on the plate, and carry them carefully all the way up to present to cousin number one. With a pussy cat smile on her face.

Then she’d go back downstairs to the kitchen, pick up a plate. The store room, pick out two ripe numbers. Wash them. Clean them. Carry them. Carefully, all the way up to cousin number two. 

Cousins one and two would then compare and contrast. They had to all be the same size or down she’d go again, balancing the rejected fruits, to pick out fresh, new ones of a size! And so, one by one, there’d be a plate with two mangoes for each.

Sometimes there’d be six of us, sometimes more. Never less.

And after the smiling service, my little cousin would sit down, push back her frock and sink her teeth into her own two banganapallis. She truly earned them. 

Every day. All through the summer vacation. 

Sandhya Rao

Tulika at Bookaroo 2011

Writer and editor Sandhya Rao talks about Indian dinostars, Stone Eggs and the lifelike dino robot that got everyone's attention at Helen Rundgren's session, while writer Swetha Prakash who took Padma to space and to Bookaroo 2011 shares her notes.

Dino Delights 

A chip of fossilized dinosaur eggshell, a tiny piece of dino bone, a real – and sharp! – billions of years old tooth still good for a sharp nick … what more could dino lovers and others have asked for? Kids and others got to touch and feel dino ‘items’ and find out all about Indian dinosaurs thanks to Helen Rundgren’s book with Tulika, Stone Eggs: A Story of Indian Dinosaurs at Bookaroo children’s literature festival in Delhi this past week. 

And yes, she was there too, having flown down from Stockholm especially to participate in Bookaroo. Armed with bananas, an Afghan melon, and her precious dino treasures… what were the bananas for you ask? Well, said Helen, that’s to show how big the T Rex’s teeth may have been. And the Afghan melon? That’s how big and sort of heavy a dino egg might have been. Not bigger? someone asked. Even an ostrich lays eggs almost this big. No, said Helen, because the bigger the egg, the thicker the shell and the more difficult it would be for the little one to emerge. Hmm, something to think about. Also, she pointed out, the thicker the shell, the less porous it will be…. Little ones survive inside eggs because the porous shell allows them to breathe. Hmm, something else to think about.

Children had plenty to think about and guess at, at both of Helen’s sessions at Bookaroo on November 25^th, and November 27^th, during which it became clear that dinosaurs didn’t just roam somewhere else, but in India as well. In fact, said Helen, we had no dinos in Sweden! But in India there is the Indosuchus raptorius, the Barapasaurus tagorei, the Kotasaurus yamanpalliensis and the king of them all, the Rajasaurus narmadensis… So, feel proud, friends, of your dinosorian past and know that lots of dino egg fossils have been found especially in western, central and south India. Helen threw in a quiz with everyone winning prizes: a lovely poster of the Indian dinostars and tiny dino figurines.

But the star of the sessions was Helen’s nearly real live dino robot pet who completely had everybody mesmerized. Children crowded to watch the dinobot move, blink and pick up stuff from the floor but when they rushed to pet her, she shrank nervously into mama Helen’s dino t-shirt… 

Padma Goes to Bookaroo

Writing has its centre in silence and solitude, whereas the festivals are an unabashed celebration of life. Writing festivals are thus very remarkable, very mysterious. Now just make that a children's literary festival…

For children every moment in time is there just for the moment. They will settle down and be tranquil, with a tranquility that cannot be articulated and yet be perfectly lively all the time. Alive, the way we often forget to be.

The young persons, all well-uniformed, are seated evenly in a line. You are reading and asking some questions. Time passes. Are you narrating to them, or are they narrating to you? Is the text they compose with their innocent and often absurd responses, serene self-command, and joyous disinterest (we are here because our teacher/parent is also here) so much more intelligent and sophisticated than anything you could come up with? 

So, in the end, you’re sort of stuck with being— less speech, more child. Thank you Tulika, thank you Sandhya, thank you Jo, thank you Swati, thank you Shreya and thank you all for providing this amazing text and context.

In Bon Bibi's Forest

In Bon Bibi's Forest

In Bon Bibi’s Forest is the third book in the series Our Myths that seeks to re-visit well-known and less known stories that have come down to us over the ages. In the process of passing from mouth to ear, they have travelled far away from the circumstances in which they were born, and have acquired new and different meanings. Some have even been catapulted into the realm of ‘unquestionable truths’ fiercely protected by diehard fans. Hence, the furore over the idea of ‘300 Ramayanas’.

But we know that it is the nature of stories to change as people change, society changes, and the ways in which human beings tell or listen to stories in order to make sense of their lives, change. Hanuman’s Ramayana gently shifts the focus from heroic action to humane understanding, Vyasa’s Mahabharata humourously suggests that writing down this massive epic must have involved some moves and countermoves. 

While these first Our Myths titles reach into the two established epics of India, In Bon Bibi’s Forest dips into the ocean of people’s stories. It has an actual and still pristinely preserved setting: Sundarban spread across a vast delta that spills into the Bay of Bengal and across India and Bangladesh. The forests there are different, and the habitat difficult to negotiate, for both humans and animals. This is the home of the Royal Bengal Tiger. It is also the home of many families who live spread out over some of the inhabited mudflats and islands that are crisscrossed by river waters swelling and ebbing as the sea rushes in and out every night and day. These mangroves are some of the most biodiverse regions in the world and the least impacted by human development activities.

Bon Bibi, the 'Lady of the Forest'

Naturally, therefore, stories grew around the tiger as human beings discovered they were powerless before its might. This is how the story of Bon Bibi was born. And although she is today considered a goddess, she really doesn’t have any religious affiliation herself and those who worship her do so because she speaks to them of things that matter to their lives. 

Painting by six-year old Patachitrakar Sonal

As with all myths and hoary stories, this one too twists and turns with different elements. In Bon Bibi’s Forest focuses on the tiger of Sundarban which is smaller in size, researchers tell us, than the other tigers of India. It is also more aggressive, although researchers don’t quite know why. The people of Sundarban live in its shadow, but they also somehow feel protected by it. They regularly re-enact the story of Bon Bibi and Dokkhin Rai to renew an old promise to use the forest with a pure heart. This retelling reminds readers that if the tiger is healthy, the ecosystem will be healthy.

Hop on the Oluguti Toluguti Express!

There was a chuk chuk train going ruk ruk which left Kids Central station at 4 last Saturday and went thadak dhadak to Dharampur-Karampur, Khandwa-Mandwa, Raipur-Jaipur, Vellore-Nellore and round and round and round till Sandhya Rao said,

“Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!” 

They were ammas and abbus, there were thathas and paatis and they all had an equally chemma chekka time. With Indrani Krishnaiyer they followed the cheeky mekuri who went prowling from one house to another eating up all the rice and fish, and met the irresistible Haatima Tim Tim. With V.R Devika they grew long trunks and became the Aanay who came to town to simply eat some bananas. With Sudhir Ahuja they played out in the rain which fell cham cham and watched their umbrellas fly up in the air as they fell down. With Praba Ram they scampered after the anil that quickly climbed up the guava tree. 

And with Sandhya Rao they discovered the complete experience of Oluguti Toluguti: reading, reciting, listening, repeating, clapping, enacting and much more. Bangla, Hindi, Urdu, Tamil, Konkani, Asamiya, Kannada, Malayalam... with all those rhymes and voices ringing in the air; it was a Tulika evening you didn’t want to miss. Illustrator Kshitiz Sharma who came down for the event found himself entirely occupied after the event as he signed books that flew off the shelves. 

For those of who weren’t there, we have action replays coming your way, (because we’re that cool – you would be too if you were friends with Mir Salot who drinks soda water all day). And that is not all, there’s a special offer on Oluguti Toluguti: Rs.100 off if you order online through our website or purchase at our store. AND... there is a 25% discount for a limited period on the Oluguti Toluguti ebook with audio available at Storytruck. Preview it now on Youtube or read a review of the event. 

Kukre kuk and thanks, Kids Central for having us!

Through many kinds of books . . .

Continuing with the story of Tulika's 15 year journey..listing the many kinds of Tulika books and the many countries they have travelled. Read the full story here. And find Sandhya Rao reading from Sunu-Sunu at the end of this post....

Tulika's Picture Books and Bilingual Picture Books for 2-8 yr olds come in several delightful series such as:
• Wordbird books
• Imagine Words
• In Verse
• Thumb Thumb books
• Our Myths

Fiction and Non-fiction for 8+ that cover many genres under thought-provoking series heads:
• Classics in Translation
• Fact + Fiction
• Read and Colour books
• Where I Live
• Think About
• In Focus
• Looking at Art
• Green books

And last but certainly not the least the Tulika Teacher Resources.

travelling far and wide. . .

Sometimes, especially in the early years of our ambitious multilingual publishing, it seemed we had to follow Tagore’s dictum of walking alone. But as our readers swelled in numbers, many groups have joined hands with us to co-publish in different languages in India and overseas:

• Kerala State Institute for Children’s Literature, Thiruvananthapuram - Malayalam

• Eklavya, Bhopal - Hindi

• Navdanya, New Delhi - Hindi

• Jyotsna Prakashan, Mumbai - Marathi

• Bharathi Puthakalayam - Tamil

• Soma Books, UK – European, African and Asian languages

• Parrots Books, USA - Hindi

• Raji Publications, Singapore - Tamil

Kaka has also been busy visiting countries far and wide launching our books in new editions as foreign rights were picked up from UK, USA, Korea, Germany, France, Taiwan, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Canada.

Read the rest here. Or watch Sandhya Rao read from Sunu-Sunu...

Playing by the book

Today, my good and faithful readers, I have a modern fairytale to tell.

In a not-so-far-away land, in a time-not-unlike-our-own, there lives a lovely Indian bloggess called Sandhya. She bought a beautiful book about the sari and sent it over the seas and far away. The book sailed into the waiting arms of a London bloggess called Zoe. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Not history, actually. What follows after is a beautiful snapshot of a present - a gift, a moment in time. In Zoe's words (and pictures) then...

[The day trip to India was ] inspired by Sandhya who incredibly generously sent our family a copy of a fantastic book, My mother’s sari by Sandhya Rao and Nina Sabnani.

This lovely book is a short but loving eulogy on the comfort and possibilities bound up in the smell, texture, colours and warmth of an item associated with a person you love. The book made us all laugh (a sari is good for an emergency nose wipe!) and it made us nod in recognition (a sari – or in our case a shawl – is great for playing with, hiding in and snuggling up under.)


The mixed media illustrations have a fresh and modern feel – the use of photos of saris alongside fun-loving children drawn simply in acrylic worked exceptionally well for us. Without being heavily laden with culture-specific references the images “translated” well – making it easier (I believe) for M and J to see the children in the images, although from another country, as just like them, playing the same sorts of games and getting up to the same sorts of mischief.

Although in once sense very culturally specific, the “message” of this book is wonderfully universal – about a child’s love for his or her mother and how even just the sense of being close can bring such comfort and security.

The endpages of My mother’s sari give an illustrated step by step guide to putting on a sari – and we used these instructions to dress me when we got home! We had a lot of fun playing hide-in-mum’s-sari and wrap-mummy-up-in-her-sari-so-she-can’t-get-away… So Sandhya, even though you are very many miles away from us, you ensured we had a wonderful day together full of learning and lots of laughter. Neither M nor I can wait to go to India again!

You can read all about Zoe and M's day trip to India here.

Blogathon 3: Cricket fever

The event you have all been waiting for: The next edition of the Tulika blogathon is officially here! 

*crowd cheers* *cheerleaders do a jiggly jig* *camera swoops around a crowded stadium* *etc*

Here's what you have to do: Post pictures with little captions about cricket on your blog. You're welcome to add your thoughts on the pictures as well. Your kids playing cricket, you playing stick cricket in school (did you play French cricket in school? anyone?), children of the neighbourhood frying in the noonday sun and playing with chalk-drawn-on-wall stumps, you at an IPL match, your bedroom wall plastered with cricketing heroes' posters - all things cricket-related are acceptable entries.

Your deadline is Monday, April 19. Leave a comment below with a link to your post or mail it in

Selected entries will be formatted into an online-only book. The virtual book will be up online as a slideshow and as a pdf document - so you can download it and show if off if you want to:-)
You get your name on a virtual Tulika publication. We get all your deep dark cricketing secrets. Sweet, huh?

Here's Sandhya Rao's take on her book Cricket! to get you started....

When I was a little girl, way way back in the early 1960s, growing up in a small town called Durgapur in West Bengal, we were always back home from school by lunch and after that we were free to play – play in the afternoon, play all evening and, left to our merry selves, ready to play all night. Some of my friends then went home and like good kids did their homework. I grabbed a scrappy bite and flopped into bed. Homework, hah! Well, that hah! got me into big trouble sometimes, but, hah! who cared. There were so many more interesting things to do.

Like, catch tadpoles in the rainy season. Help my mum cover books for the little ones in her class, all for the price of a bar of chocolate (very difficult to come by those days), listen to cricket (and tennis) commentary on the radio for my dad and report to him the live action of the day… That’s what really set if off, the love for all forms of sport: to watch, to play and to play around

Alan McGilvray, Brian Johnston, Bobby Talyarkhan… these are some of the names I remember and I would assiduously assimilate all of the action and replay it for my father when he got back from work. In the process, I acquired a special fondness for cricket and tennis although what we friends played was badminton and seven stones and dark room and through all of these games we gave ourselves our favourite players’ names. So what if cricket was played differently!

I think that’s what inspired the little book of photographs called Cricket! A game anyone can play, anytime, anywhere, anyhow.

That’s why, when I see some IPL stars put on their best aggressive acts, it makes me angry. Because children are watching. Because children worship their heroes. Because children want to be like their heroes.

Because really, it isn’t about winning at all. It is about playing the game. Cricket! is about playing the game. Any game. For fun. To enjoy and generate happy feelings. So you can have a good night’s sleep.

 - Sandhya Rao

P.S. You can find more pictures from the book on the Tulika site

Mukand and Riaz

Did something really interesting yesterday. Was at Hari Shree Vidyashram, Chennai, thanks to a sudden invitation from Shreepriyaa asking if I would talk to the kids prior to their launching into an Aman ki Asha project…The Aman ki Asha is an initiative of The Times of India and The Jang group of Pakistan to engage in initiatives that underline the hope for peace between the two countires. The children at Hari Shree are part of a larger plan to send messages of peace on white handkerchiefs so they can be tied to flutter all the way from Amritsar to Lahore… this, in a nutshell; you will find more online.

Anyhow, when the invitation came, I jumped because we have just the book for something like this: Nina Sabnani’s Mukand and Riaz. We also have a copy of the award-winning animation film Nina made, on which she based the book. Using the art on cloth done by women from the region of Sindh in India and Pakistan, she has created a story of friendship between two children, Mukand and Riaz, in a simple and poignant way.

As they watched Mukand waving and waving to his friend Riaz from aboard the S.S. Shirala, and they saw the ship getting smaller and smaller, and the final credits began to roll, there were soft and loud whispers, and heads turning… “He’s crying, da!” someone said. I turned to look and saw that many in the approximately 200-strong group of 7 to 9 year-olds, wiping away tears, girls and boys. The children were palpably and visibly moved by the story of friendship Nina had told.

They understood immediately the loss of friends and in the course of the excited discussion that followed, many questions came up. To do with friendship of course, and moving, and violence, and peace, and home and lots more. One little boy jumped up to say that his grandfather too had grown up in Karachi, where Mukand and Riaz’s story is located. Then, when they realized Mukand was actually Nina’s father, and that he really had a friend called Riaz, they were beside themselves with excitement. Where is Mukand? How will he find Riaz? I want to meet the person who made this film. The pictures are made of cloth. I want to read this book. I want to read this book. Is it in the library? Where will I find it?

By the time I took my leave, the children were sparkling with understanding and ideas. “You may be sure they will talk about nothing else all day,” Teacher Jayanthi said as we parted.

There is a postscript.

I wrote to Nina right away, about how the children had reacted and how proud we were all over again for the lovely book she had done. She wrote back: "What you write makes me cry too. I am so touched and what a day to share this with me, on my birthday. Thanks so very much!!!!! The best news today. Big hugs and love..."

Big hugs and love is what the children of the world need, I guess. What the children of classes 2, 3 and 4 of Hari Shree would like as a return birthday gift from Nina is lots more books like this.

- Sandhya Rao

You can watch Mukand and Riaz on YouTube. Ajit Nair has interviewed Nina Sabnani and blogged about the animated film.
Amba blogs about Nina's presentation of the book at a conference - Mantles of Myth: The Narrative in Indian Textiles, organised by Siyahi in Jaipur.
There are reviews of the book on the Tulika site. Bharati Srinivasan, special educator and creative writing facilitator, mentions how she used Mukand and Riaz to teach creative writing and dispel prejudice.

With Buddha in the heart and Gandhi in the head…

That’s the plea Tenzin Tsundue made to the young people seated before him in a hall at the Rashtriya Shala in Rajkot on February 19. He was talking about the inspiration that Gandhiji continues to provide with his ideas and the path that the Buddha shows through his compassion.

Some of us were with this energetic Tibetan poet and activist in Rajkot, Gujarat, to participate in the tenth edition of ‘Talking Gandhi’, a programme organized by the Galaxy family of schools. I didn’t know about this until this year when a young woman called Gopika Jadeja suddenly dropped by at the office one day. She reminded me that this was the hundredth anniversary of the writing of Hind Swaraj by Gandhiji.

Of course! The compelling text on self rule that Gandhiji wrote by hand in Gujarati over ten days on board a ship from England to South Africa. I read somewhere that he wrote 40 of the 275 pages with his left hand. I showed a picture of Gandhiji’s left hand writing and right hand writing (his natural hand) to some young people in Rajkot – left hand won hands up!

This was possible because of an interaction with students of Rajkumar College, DPS, Galaxy School (all Rajkot), Riverside and Ahmedabad International School (Ahmedabad) and K D Ambani Vidya Mandir (Jamnagar) at the Kishorsinhji School where Gandhiji studied for one year. This school, established in 1838, was apparently the first school in Rajkot. The kids had got up early and made long journeys to catch the interactive session on Gandhi based on Picture Gandhi, My Gandhi Scrapbook and The Story of Dandi March. Talking about him as a little child, thinking of him as, maybe, that little boy peeping from behind the door, I think gave them a whole new perspective. “I didn’t know he dressed so fashionably!” exclaimed one young person. We discussed a whole lot of interesting things besides fashion, including writing and moving to new places.

Later, Parnab Mukherjee and Cordis Paldano did a searing and moving play called ‘Unbound’ to commemorate the Hind Swaraj. They are taking this play to many cities, and it changes a little each time, depending upon events unfolding around us. Don’t miss it. What was special for me was also the venue: the main hall of Rajkumar College (a school for princes at one time, as the name suggests). It was funny to see Gandhiji’s benign face smiling toothlessly down at us from amongst the splendour of royalty on display, both brown and white. Across from Gandhiji’s portrait was a huge portrait of Queen Victoria, and it brought to mind his comment about the king of England wearing enough clothes for the both of them!

Incidentally, Tenzin Tsundue is the person who climbed the scaffolding of a hotel in Mumbai and, from the fourteenth floor, unfurled a banner that said ‘Free Tibet’ and waved the Tibetan national flag. Some of you may remember seeing his picture in the newspaper or on television, in 2002. He was protesting against Prime Minister Zhu Rongji of China who was, at that moment, addressing a press conference in one of the rooms below. Tsundue wrote a poem while he was held in police custody after this incident.

It goes:

He was tall

arms akimbo

like the Everest

I climbed the Everest

and I was taller

my hands free

Gandhi in the head and Buddha in the heart seems like a good idea.

What can books do?

What shall I tell you about my recent trip to Sri Lanka? That it is a beautiful country, rich with red soil, green trees and luscious fruits? That their thembili is the queen of coconuts, sweet and refreshing? That the green one is kurumba, more like our elaneer back home?  That signs are in three languages, Sinhala, English and Tamil, and the burghers are people of Dutch descent? That the presidential election of January 26 has left a lot of questions in its wake even as young people write about the excitement of being able to travel in Jaffna at last?

I was there in January-February to participate in the children’s events of the Galle Literary Festival that was held at the historical fort of Galle, a hub of activity in the town, in the southern province. It takes between three to four hours to drive down there from Bandaranaike airport just north of Colombo. In many ways, it’s like the movies because you drive all along the coast looking out on the seemingly endless Indian Ocean, specifically the Gulf of Mannar. Sometimes the sea’s so close you feel that if you step out of the car, you will wet your feet!
And all along the drive, you see evidence of the 2004 tsunami that took about 40,000 lives in Sri Lanka and displaced more than 2.5 million. The swathe of coastline in and around Galle was very badly hit by the black mountain that rose sometimes six metres from the sea that December 26^th morning and went as far as five kilometres inland. A railway line runs along the coastline and that morning a whole train went under in that nation’s worst human disaster. This is why, as we drove closer to my destination, I was filled with greater and greater trepidation. How could I talk about the tsunami in a country that had been ravaged by it? Who was I to do that, even if I had written a book for children about it called My Friend, the Sea?

But my friend, Janaki Galappatti, who is Sri Lankan and who was instrumental in inviting me, seemed to think it was possible. And that’s how I found myself, on January 30^th, sitting with a bunch of 12 to 14 year-olds mostly come down from Colombo, in a verandah at the Martin Wickramasinghe Museum in Koggala on the Galle-Matara Road. (Matara is Sanath Jayasuriya’s home town.) Across, on the shore side is a hotel known to make the most expensive dessert, studded with gems!

Cross the railway line and you enter a large, rolling, verdant space that is filled with a spontaneous ensemble of birdsong. It is rich and green and heartwarming. In the far distance is a small house, the home of Martin Wickramasinghe a much-loved Sri Lankan writer who had a special interest in Sri Lanka’s craft traditions and history. The complex houses a folk museum that is large enough to hold a variety of interesting objects and small enough to sustain a child’s interest. Janaki told me that in the tsunami, while so much around was destroyed, Martin Wickramasinghe’s home remained untouched.

Activities had been planned to be held under the trees, but the rain came down and so we had to crowd into a red-floored verandah for a reading of the book and a discussion. The children shared what they knew and had heard about the tsunami and somehow, slowly, the talk went from disasters to friendship. What is friendship? Why do we make friends? Do we need friends? Why? What does it mean to lose a friend? Why do we feel so hurt when friends let us down? How would Suresh, of Suresh and the Sea, feel about the sea after the tsunami? Some of them promised to write back to me about it and I hope this post will remind them of that.

The following day, we took a bus to the Sanghamitta Balika Vidyalaya in Galle town, supposed to be the largest government school in Asia with 6000 students and about 250 teachers. Set on low hilly terrain, the campus is magnificent with a forest of trees on the horizon. This morning’s group comprised 8 to 11 tear-olds with one naughty fellow hopping from bench to chair to front to back all through the reading. The rest listened, engrossed, it seemed.

Usually, at readings in other places, almost the first question that comes is: Is this a real story? Is this a real boy you’re talking about? Here, there was silence. Then, when I asked if anybody would like to talk about it, share some experience, a nine year-old I shall call Ameena put up her hand. I had met her earlier through a series of interesting encounters that are stories for another day and we had sat beside each other on the bus. I knew therefore that she knew nobody else in that group of about 30 or 35. You see, they were all from different schools and parts. She was from a local school in Galle and she was very quiet and shy.

Ameena turned around to face the group and spoke softly as loud as she could. She said that she and her two sisters had been away in Colombo visiting a cousin with their grandmother while her older brother, mum and dad had stayed behind in their home on the seafront in Galle. A couple of friends were there for breakfast on the beach and somehow they had got up to move their jeep. When the waves came, several metres high, it washed through her home and carried away her parents and brother. They swam in the sea for a very long time, about half an hour of so,before they were rescued. Her brother later clung to his father who was holding on to a tree. They lost everything. She was a toddler when this happened, but she will never forget it.

I noticed that the naughty fellow who had been making several journeys around the classroom had now stationed himself on a desk, and was listening. And somehow, after this, the mood changed. It seemed as though the children were looking at that event with new eyes, even with respect and care. It was no longer something that had happened in Sri Lanka. It was something that had happened to one of us.

I was proud of Ameena. It was brave of her to talk about something that was so painful for her parents. It was even braver to stand up and address a group of strangers. She shared her experience. And by listening, they shared it too. Perhaps that’s something books can do…?

-Sandhya Rao, Tulika

Setting sail again

It felt wonderful to return to Suresh and the Sea, with children aged 5 to 9 years at The School, KFI, Chennai on Wednesday, 18 November. It’s a story close to my heart, for the memories it brings back both of hours spent in Injambakkam with Raghavendra Rao (whose story it really is, with all the lovely black and white photographs and his first friendship with ten-year-old Suresh), and the days spent putting the book together when Tulika was still very young. I remember the night, that dark and rainy night before Radhika left for her first Frankfurt bookfair, and all of us up until late, putting together the dummy with printouts, scissors and gum. She carried a damp dummy early next morning on the flight!Times have changed since, and dummies these days are glossy digital affairs – at a cost, of course!
 
But the curiosity and imagination of children never changes. I suppose that’s what keeps us on our toes, as eager as the little ones to create exciting, challenging, new books while yet holding on to the old.It was a delightful hour at the school. Many of the children were familiar with both Suresh and the Sea, and its sequel, written in light of the December 2004 tsunami, My Friend, the Sea, thanks to an accessible and well stocked library in the school. Yet, the children were eager to have the story read aloud. It’s not a made-up story - it’s a real story - nonfiction, not fiction. That didn’t faze the children one bit, even the little ones. They were all ears, and all questions, too.

The group was studying/researching the seashore. Therefore the older ones had specific questions like how tsunamis happen (and they answered these questions themselves, thankfully!) and some anxious ones worried about Suresh’s home - was it still standing…?
Only goes to show how books have a life far beyond their pages, if only teachers/parents/others take a little trouble. Even by making the books available in the library in multiple copies. 

People are constantly complaining about that monstrous thing, the READING HABIT, and how it is dying… I’d like to know how many adults read, and I’m not talking about magazines. The READING HABIT is safe with children, provided - and this is important - we make books available and easily accessible, giving children a chance to discuss the world emanating from and connected to them.

-Sandhya Rao, Author

Reading to little ones at Project Why's school

August 28 was a special day. That was the day I met some truly lovely children and their teachers at Project Why’s school in Govindpuri, New Delhi. But then, all kids are lovely (especially if they’re other people’s! Or grandchildren!). And the 40-50 well-scrubbed, two-, three- and four-year-olds looking up at me with eager faces, eyes shining with excitement and, in some cases, tears… they stole my heart.

Here, a confession. I knew I would be meeting little ones to share some of my picture books with them – a promise made to the dynamic and caring Anouradha Bakshi on my last visit to Delhi. Anou is the founder and spirit and inspiration behind Project Why that works among and with children in the Govindpuri neighbourhood and also runs a centre for special needs (among other things). So I knew they would be little, but so little – hmmm!

So, from my bag of books I pulled out Ekki Dokki, the very first book I wrote for Tulika that's now a firm family favourite. As we went through the adventures of Ekki and then Dokki in the dark and deep jungle, the excitement built up with much hand flapping and waving… One hand waving in the air meant Ekki, the girl with one hair. Two hands, and it was Dokki. We cupped water in our hands and watered the mehendi bush, we pulled out grass and fed the cow, and… and… all in Hindi with a lot of help from the children! One little girl for whom it was just her second day, came in howling, real tears rolling steadily down her cheeks. But the moment the storytelling began, not a cry escaped her lips!

Then we all turned around, first to face the wall with the large poster of Hello, Deepa Balsavar’s delightful story about Thumb Thumb Thambi (see Thumb Thumb Books). Then we did an about turn to count with Niveditha Subramaniam’s 9 to 1. By then the children were ready to do some thumbprint drawings themselves and they happily waved goodbye with their paint-splattered hands!

- Sandhya Rao