In one of the places where I used to teach dance, children from various backgrounds often had trouble communicating with me. They spoke little or no English and sometimes, little or no Hindi, Tamil or Marathi. Problems occurred when they spoke just one language if that one was not one I understood.I remember one such girl. She spoke just Telugu, and perhaps because of her language difficulties, she was extremely diffident. She stood very still, watching and listening, never contributing to conversation. She listened to children asking for permission to go and drink water. Finally, mustering up her courage, she came up to me and asked, "Miss, mumblemumblemum water?"I smiled and granted permission. That was the first time she had spoken, so I merely said, "Yes."The next class, once again, "Miss, mumblemumblemum water?"Once again, I replied, "Yes."When she asked me the … [Read more...]
Chenonceau
The little castle that appears on the Disney logo is, I am convinced, Chenonceau. The château de Chenonceau has to be a Disney castle.In the World War II, the castle marked the boundary between war zones and safe areas. People were often smuggled through the castle to the other side - the idea itself adds the element of romance and adventure I love! We chose not to take the audio guides, but we missed nothing, simply because there was just so much to see. The castle brings to mind all the Georgetter Heyers I've read with its magnificent rooms and four-poster beds and all that. The maze, in typical touristy style, is very simple. It's impossible to get lost there, which takes a little joy out of the idea of a maze. Though the wax museum was a huge disappointment, the rest of the castle had a beautiful feel of people. It felt lived-in, with shiny copper utensils, a quaint pulley to draw … [Read more...]
Classes at School
I had an awful class yesterday. A teacher was absent, so her class was clubbed with mine. I was not particularly sceptical; I did not think I needed to be. How wrong I was! I did not know what to do with sixteen-year-old children determined to take advantage of a new teacher. There was a whole bunch of them, shouting across the class, drinking and spilling water, sitting in couples, professing to headaches... The works. I had planned seven points of discussion that I thought we would not even begin to finish discussing - beauty, marriage, alcoholism, prostitution, feminism, madness and racism. I wanted to discuss these ideas (or at least some of them) and then relate them to the texts we had.I began with beauty. It disintegrated into commenting on the beauty of several girls in class.I talked about marriage. It disintegrated into ideas of celebrities and marriages, and then into how … [Read more...]
Wide Sargasso Sea
Post-colonial literature frightens me. When I think of it, I wonder whether I have to read it closely and carefully, and then pretend to the whole world that I understood it perfectly. I have to talk about how good it was, and what I felt and thought. More than anything else, with great literature, it becomes important to have an opinion. And that is why I avoided reading Wide Sargasso Sea for so long.The greatest famous book is one that makes you forget about what you are going to say about the book. Sometimes, when I read famous literature, I plan my opinion as I read, page by page. I feel stupid doing that, but sometimes, I have no choice.Wide Sargasso Sea was a world away from that. From the very first page, I forgot about the world. I forgot about the 'post-colonial' tag. I forgot about the careful formulation of opinion. I even forgot that I was reading it to teach it.I … [Read more...]
Getting Lost
Sometimes, I look back and think, "What a foolish, foolish child I was."We lived in Vashi when I was very young, and like all children, I was always happier playing outside than being indoors. Unlike most other children, though, little Varsha loved to go and check that Mamma was still there. Just a little peek and a little hug were enough to keep me going for a long time.Once, my mother took my sister and me with her to visit friends of hers. As usual, my sister and I went down to play. We were inattentive little children and did not notice that even though we lived on the first floor, these friends were different - they lived on the second floor.After playing for a while, little Varsha decided to check on mamma. She went up to the first floor and saw that all four doors were locked. I still remember my heart thumping in my head with fear. I went down and told my sister. She came … [Read more...]
On the Expressway
Driving to Mumbai last evening, I noticed all kinds of things that bewildered me. People do the strangest things, and make my imagination soar.In the middle of nowhere, there was a man walking on the divider, in the direction of Mumbai. I wonder, was he walking all the way?On the ghats, returning in the middle of the night, trucks groaned their way up, blocking all three lanes. Below us was the valley, which we could not see. Sitting on the wall that guards the road and separates it from the drop in the valley, was a man playing with his cell phone. It was close to midnight. Did he think a truck would do better with one person less in it? Did he have a bet - let's see who gets to the top first, groaning truck or me? Or was he just taking a break, hoping to hitch a ride a little later?Someone driving from Mumbai towards Pune suddenly took a U-turn, with no regard for traffic in … [Read more...]
Not Just a Witch
I sometimes feel that a book that is easily read and easily forgotten cannot be a great book. Easy to read is always an important factor, but when it's also easy to forget, I begin to wonder...Not Just a Witch by Eva Ibbotson is simply charming. It's old-fashioned in its 'moral' idea of doing good and ending wickedness. I know that many people find a story with a moral a little same-old-same-old, but not I. I don't need morality to be cunningly woven into the plot. I can read about goodness and kindness without feeling the social need to roll my eyes at impracticality. I enjoyed the idea of a school for good witches, where powers are used for good, and witches are miserable when they do things that are not all good. Not once did the writing seem self-conscious while discussing ideas of wickedness and goodness, and I think that's where the beauty of the book lies. I loved the … [Read more...]
Another School, Another Life
I began another life today. I am to teach English at MIT Pune's Vishwashanti Gurukul.I felt awkward listening to staff room gossip.How funny it is that I had to open yet another bank account in the same bank.What a beautiful campus!What an awful bus journey.What a lovely library! (I want to see my book there very soon.)I'm excited. … [Read more...]
Will I ever call it junk?
How do teachers throw away cards they receive? The children I read to gave me so many cards. Some were beautiful; some were thoughtful; some were sweet. How can I throw any away?Just a sample of those gems... THANK-YOU FOR SHARING SO MANY THINGS I LOVED THOSE THINGS A LOTDear,: Mrs Varsha ShSeshan Thankyou for giving a leacture of reading and writing stories, I loved itThankyou for encouraging us to write, you are a star thankyou because of you we learn't some important thingsThankyou fotelling us nice stories of your book. Congratulations. The story was wonderful. I loved it. It was superyou are so kind. Even I will become an author one day. I will come to you to show my Book.THANK YOU FOR Reading the WONDERFUL + Beautiful STORY I Loved it very, very, very much I loved the story Like anything … [Read more...]
The Dame who Hated Plants
Another original story by seven-year-old Varsha. This one won the first prize in a story-writing competition and was published on my mother's birthday in 1994. The word 'dame', for those who have not read Enid Blyton, meant nothing to me except 'woman' (often magical/ evil). I wonder if this story could be psycho-analysed.There was once a witch whose name was Dame Rock About. She hated flowers and plants.We don't know why she hated plants but she hated flowers because she wanted the honey and the honey-bees were taking it.She had a son called Shaggy. He loved plants and flowers.One day the old Dame put stones on the flowers. She was making a spell that who ever goes into it would turn into an ant. Just as she finished her spell a bee came and stung her and in fright she jumped into the spell. The bee ate her up, because she had turned into an ant.The boy had not liked his … [Read more...]