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...]
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 LOT Dear,: Mrs Varsha ShSeshan Thankyou for giving a leacture of reading and writing stories, I loved it Thankyou for encouraging us to write, you are a star thankyou because of you we learn't some important things Thankyou fotelling us nice stories of your book. Congratulations. The story was wonderful. I loved it. It was super you 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...]
Surprise Farewell Party
A new life begins for me on the 1st of March. I'm going to stop all my hundreds of classes here and there and teach full-time in a school. Last evening, the girls from one of my classes gave me a surprise farewell party that was truly heart-warming. Thanks to their excited whispered planning, there was no element of surprise, but that took nothing away from the celebration. "A party," the girls insisted, "must have cake and cold-drinks and chips." The mothers apparently tried to convince the girls that they were too close to dinnertime to have snacks like that, but the girls were adamant. A party is not a party without cake and cold drinks and chips. I tend to agree with that, at least with the cake and chips. Part I of the party was successful. I always tell the girls that beautiful dance is the best possible gift they can give me. They practised all afternoon yesterday and last … [Read more...]
Book-Reading – A Different One
An acquaintance who is part of the Teach for India programme asked whether I would be willing to come to a small government school in Chandannagar and talk about my book, about writing and about dance. I was tremendously excited by the prospect, and agreed immediately. When I got there, though, I realised how different it was from anything I had expected. The energy of the class was different. They were restless, not willing to sit and listen. They jumped up and down, walked (or rather crawled - because they sit on the floor, not at desks) around the class. They wanted to talk about everything. Sometimes, shamefacedly, I had to ask for explanations of what they were saying. Yes, they speak English, but sometimes, they just give me the key words and expect me to figure out what the sentences are. I told them the story of the Prologue to The Story-Catcher. They did not know the word … [Read more...]
The Special Green Tile
In the hall where I teach at Sanskriti Cultural Centre, there's one Special Green Tile. It's different from the other tiles. For me, all it does is mark the centre of the hall, which makes helps children orient themselves when we have performances. For the children, not so very long ago, the tile was special. In 2010, there was one little girl who used to come nearly half an hour early for class. She loved to dance there, in the centre, and it was her tile. There was no dispute about it. Then, she left class, and there were two girls who wanted to stand there, on that special green tile. Whoever came first got to stand there, so both of them started coming earlier and earlier. One fine day, naturally, a quarrel sprang up. "It makes a different sound!" moaned one child. "It's not fair that only one person stands there!" "I also want to stand on that tile," piped up a third child, who … [Read more...]
Raising Children
Every so often, I realise just how difficult it is to bring children up. Of course, there are all the financial aspects of parenting, and the tension of finding a school, monitoring TV, internet, books... The list of things parents do for children is simply endless. Recently, I was introduced to another side of parenting. A friend of mine, a young mother with a five-year-old son, was teaching her child an important lesson in sharing. The little one, with his perpetually happy glowing face, offered us a single chip each. His mother corrected him, telling him that it's normal to offer the packet, and let us take however much we wanted. The little boy was sceptical about the plan, but he offered us the packet the next time around. We were happy with the improvement, and said our polite "No, thank you!" This much was part of normal parenting for me. The third round was the most … [Read more...]
The Circus Boy
I did two more book-readings yesterday - The Circus Boy and The Old Yellow Scooter. The reactions were completely different! Children never stop surprising me. The first reading (The Dictionary) was wonderful - I got questions about reading, writing, publishing, drawing... The second reading (Dreams) was strange - I wondered whether the girls understood the story at all. I got all kinds of questions that were totally random - about how many languages I spoke, about what my mother wanted to be when she grew up, about who my class-teacher was... The third reading (The Circus Boy) was lovely. The questions made me feel that the girls really enjoyed my story. They wanted to know what happened after that. What did Girish feel? What did Ravi say? How did Jatin react? It was heart-warming. The fourth reading (The Old Yellow Scooter), with class II instead of class III, was grand. The children … [Read more...]
Why I Write for Children
My first reading at St. Mary's school yesterday told me, yet again, why I love writing for children. The number of questions they asked me and the way they interacted with me for a whole hour was simply wonderful. Writing, editing, publishing, marketing, illustrating and designing - they had questions about all these things. They wanted to know what an illustrator's options are. They wanted to know whether children can get books published. They wanted to know why sometimes books are not available in shops. If I have a big painting on cardboard, how can I send it to a publisher? How can I make an audio book on a CD? How can I ask the shopkeeper to sell my book? How long does it take to publish a book? They wanted to know everything - it was splendid! At the end of my four readings for the girls of class III, I am to write a small piece about the experience for the school magazine. I … [Read more...]
Book-Reading in MY School!
Once upon a time (in 1995, to tell the truth), my wonderful school-librarian encouraged us to write and illustrate books of our own. A friend and I sat and wrote a book of stories and poems. I forget what it's called. We illustrated it painstakingly - and one important lesson that I learned from that was that even if I could write, I could never draw. At the back of the book, we proudly put in little biographies - About the Authors. Mine says 'Varsha Seshan is 8 years old and studies in Standard IV A.' What else was there to say? My teacher kept that book. She got it rebound when it started falling to bits. And eighteen years later, when I have a 'real' book published, she wants me to go back to my school and talk to children about making it happen. She wants everyone to look at that book and then at my new official one. She asked me if I was willing. I'm not just willing - I'm … [Read more...]