on top of it all...

And so it came to pass that we left the plains and came to the mountains during their coldest month.
We return in a couple of days. So far, it has been a mesmerizing time, and the sights and sounds and the laughter and affection of the Nepalese have us in thrall.


Here are a few pictures. There are many more. But this gives an idea of what it was like to everest.....


click on one & you can see them all in a row, bigger, one by one.

on the mountain flight from kathmandu...

these are more eerie and mysterious than the snow-capped giants.

clouds? mountains? mountain-clouds? cloud-mountains?

the sweet attendant on the flight.

birds apart.... roof of our pokhara hotel.

pokhara hotel room

a bridge built by the chinese. below that is an underground river that can generate hydro power during strong monsoons. (the couple are indian)

devi's falls. geeta thought it was THE devi, but it's named after a swiss lady who was martyred by the waters.

this little monk said he's nine. monks start very early in life, much, much younger than him.

as we left the tibetan monastery in pokhara, this gentleman smiled at me. our guide said tibetans get the sympathy and money of the world. but we found them pure.

when the sun started calling it a day at the phewa lake in pokhara.

the barahi temple in the middle of the phewa lake. the female form of vishnu when he took his varaha avatar. they sacrifice birds, since it's a chore bringing animals there by boat. geeta recoiled from the scent of blood.

around the bend on this lake is the palace where the nepalese king used to stay during his visits here. phewa lake was created by melting glaciers.

this is the beautiful girl whose boat rammed into ours and then moved away as if it was nothing at all.

the sun dropped something into the lake as it hurried away.

one of the lite-flights seen from pokhara airport as we waited for our kathmandu return flight.

still at the airport. when flights are delayed as they usually are, they're really delayed. there are compensations.

AAAAAaaaahhhh....

God lives somewhere in these mountains.
and when we went close, we realized something in us
was connecting with something out there.....

Launching THE BUZZ

A couple of months ago, I made a one-day trip to Coimbatore at the behest of Archana Dange, a dynamic and sensitive person who is doing great things in the field of children's education. If you agree that education covers more than sitting in class and staring at the teacher, then you'll probably also agree that there are worlds to be discovered, and each new discovery is an essential part of a child's necessary education.

 Archana brings together organisations to do what she does. The Helen O'Grady International Drama Academy and Eurokids are two outfits she's involved with. The Academy, in association with Long Long Ago, an online lending library for kids, has started a book and theatre club for children named Buzz. and that is what I was in Coimbatore to inaugurate. It was a fun evening, and this report from The Hindu will give you an idea of how it went.

In the morning, I held a literary workshop in a thatched terrace above Archana's office. The participants were from the Helen O'Grady Academy and Archana's friends, and probably a couple of others. Archana also participated, as did Shobhana Jayaraman, a wonderful girl with an amazing capability to connect with children. I enjoyed every moment of the workshop, and I think they did too. We had theatre too, instant skits that were imaginatively and enthusiastically performed.

I still don't know what Archana and Shobhana thought of the whole thing, though!

The work

The work that has happened.

First, the play. It went on day and night,
not continuously, but it struggled through
uneasy dark hours, and often I went to sleep past
three a. m. When the subject is about a social aberration
and the genre is murder mystery, night-time writing can be
eerie as well as immensely effective. And thus was born
CAST PARTY. It's with the Madras Players now, and they'll
arrange its upbringing.

Next, The Axe of Parashurama. 
[That had to be in red! You'll understand once you read it.]
First, I'll have to finish writing it and they've to publish it
and I'll be fortunate enough to hold
it in my hands and then I'll sign a copy for you.
 :-D

Surfacing....

So what are these two pictures all about?
Amish Tripathi & Ashwin Sanghi.
They are two of the hottest bestsellers today.
Simple narratives, new perspectives and reinvented marketing initiatives.
That's what has made them tick.
I moderated a discussion on myths with them at Landmark a couple
of months ago.
Please take a long and careful look at both photographs.
In the first, I am seriously participating in the proceedings.
In the second, I've made a breakthrough. That's me pointing out (to myself, mostly)
that I've been launching, discussing and
promoting other people's books for far too long!
After this moment of enlightenment, I rallied around and the result was
a completed play, nonsense pieces for an anthology, and renewed input and energy
for my novel, which is now finally beginning to make sense.

So there. The epiphany triggered an epic high like epic feni and the result
is some long-awaited industry.

Just remembered this that happened many months ago...

Author Shreekumar Varma, buys new books to donate for Aviva Great Wall of Education presented by The Hindu in Chennai on Monday. Photo: S.S. Kumar

PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE FOR THE LINK

AHAAA....

We will not look at the chronological order.
The first pic happened when my MA classmate Namasivayam's son got married and we had a grand reunion of dear friends, including Bobby from Bombay and Chengu from Thrissur. It was one of those scintillating moments that happen once in a very long while.

The second pic was taken when my college professor George K. Mathew's debut novel was released. It was once again a roomful of nostalgia, and everyone spoke about GKM who more than a month earlier had held the first copy of his book in his hand and died the next day--- as though he'd been waiting only for that. 20 years ago, he'd called me one day and said I'm retiring from college and I would like you to take my place for a year until a professor who's on a sabbatical returns. And that was how I taught Literature at MCC. This time the publisher of Helios Books, Gitanjali, called me and said I wanted GKM to read from his book. Now that he's no more, will you take his place? And I did. For the second time. CPI (M) Gen Sec Prakash Karat, one of GKM's old students, released the book, and I co-ordinated and read from the novel. It was a great evening.

The third pic was---you won't believe this!-- again full of nostalgia and classmates. This time it was a slice of school life. Thirty years after we left school we'd had a reunion where we released a CD. The songs were written in Tamil, English, Malayalam and Hindi by me. Music was by a classmate and songs were sung by all of us. I sang the Malayalam song. Now, this one was forty years after passing out, and we again released a CD, with even more songs--- other songs in Kannada and Telugu were written by others and also translated from my lyrics in English. It was great fun. The photo shows an aside during the meet in the school auditorium.

At  a meeting at the University of Madras' Malayalam and Hindi Depts, I released a book of poet A. Ayyappan's poems translated into Hindi from the Malayalam by Santosh Alex, who's a gifted and prolific translator. That's pic no 4. Somehow, I have been involved for the past three or four months in both literary as well academic events. So I've been able to meet several interesting people.

Like Sangeetha Shinde Tee, for instance. Who's with me in the fifth pic. I released her book of short stories, A Moral Murder & Other Stories. The stories are set in the Nilgiris, Coonoor to be exact, and cover many subjects including love, mystery and ordinary life. Sitting with her in the pic and reading from her book is Jamie who I met for the first time at a dinner when he walked all the way from Mandaveli to Boat Club Road after arriving in Chennai on a train from Bangalore. It was his second day in India! Sangeetha and her husband David are a dear couple.

And, finally, the sixth pic. Chronologically too, that's the latest one. It was at the showing of a short film in Malayalam where I was part of a panel discussion. The leader of the panel was famous Malayalam, Tamil and Hindi director K. S. Sethumadhavan. He made memorable films like Odayil Ninnu, Julie, Marupakkam and Jeevikkan Marannupoya Sthree. The moment I came up he said: Do you remember the last time we met in the Chandamama office? Did anyone make a film out of your story? I thought he'd forgotten! It had been more than 20 years ago. I'd just published a story for The Heritage, published by the Chandamama group and edited by noted writer Manoj Das. Mr Sethumadhavan had wanted to film the story then. My friend Viswanatha Reddi was the publisher. Time passed, and we'd gone our separate ways, as it often happens. Well, this pic too unleashed a mini typhoon of nostalgia.

Which probably is the basic characteristic of this post. Wouldn't you say?

You might have wondered at the significance of the title. It's just a way of telling you that I haven't abandoned my blog, and I'm back again. Ahaaa!

Manu Joseph's Serious Men gets The Hindu Fiction Award

CHENNAI: Manu Joseph has bagged TheHindu Best Fiction Award 2010 for his debut novel Serious Men.

Writer and historian Nayantara Sahgal presented the award, which carries a cash prize of Rs.5 lakh and a plaque, to Mr. Joseph, who is the Deputy Editor of the Open magazine.

The award was instituted by TheHindu Literary Review as a prelude to celebrating its 20th year in 2011.

The winner was chosen from the 11 works shortlisted from 75 entries of Indian fiction writing in English.

Shashi Deshpande, novelist and juror for the award, said the jury decision was unanimous.

Serious Men was an “original and surprising novel” that ventured into the unusual area of science and institutional research, Ms. Deshpande said.

The book was a “wonderful read” and the author had avoided literary gimmicks in a narrative style where “everything is subordinated to the telling of the story,” she said.

In his acceptance speech, Mr. Joseph said “an award is only as good as its shortlist,” and that it was an honour for his book to be judged alongside the works of good writers.

The jury also comprised Mukul Kesavan, author and essayist, Brinda Bose, academic and critic, and Jai Arjun Singh, literary critic.

The shortlist was finalised by a panel of Chennai-based judges comprising Shreekumar Varma, novelist, K. Srilata, poet-academic, Parvathi Nayar, artist-critic, and Ranvir Shah, founder of the Prakiriti Foundation.

Favourite Books

what would you say if someone suddenly stopped you and asked what your favourite books/ films/ cities/ moments are? this is what i had to say to Times of India's M'Zyme about books. take the spellings with abundant caution, though.

SPECTACLE OF HISTORY

In filming a biopic, the director’s truth is reflected in how he selects from history, points out shreekumar varma

Exactly 12 years ago, I wrote a small book for children entitled Pazhassi Raja: The Royal Rebel. It was the story of a brave king and his trusted followers who fought the British deep in the jungles of Wyanad in northern Kerala.


Pazhassi Raja Kerala Varma was among our first freedom fighters. Like a closely guarded secret, the world was yet to hear of him. My book was a tiny disclosure. Today, a major Malayalam film has managed to do the full monty. Loaded with hand-picked talent and powered by the biggest budget in Kerala’s film history, the Pazhassi film is a feast. It not only throws open a page of history, it does so in style.


As a chronicler of that period in history, how do I evaluate this new version, embedded in state-of-the-art technology?



Cinema is today’s medium, and among the most complete ones we have. Almost all experience can be conveyed through it. And yet, when we think of a biopic or slice of history filmed, each viewer searches for his own personal satisfactions. Which is to be expected since popular cinema is a mass medium. Individuals, groups and schools of thought expect to find their own piece of the democratic pie.



When I finish writing a play, I understand the director must take over, and the final product is a creature of our combined truths. Cinema too involves two stages of interpretation, writing and filming. In filming a biopic, the director’s truth is reflected in how he selects from history.



My earliest biopics, spectacular at the time (Todd Ao, stereo and all the rest of it), were El Cid and Lawrence of Arabia. Since I’d no idea of the actual history of their protagonists, they remained just that to me: spectacular. Later, the list burgeoned, including subjects as varied as Dr Kotnis, Michelangelo, Ayn Rand, Subrahmanya Bharati, Bose, Shankaracharya, Gandhi and even my own ancestors, Swati Tirunal and Raja Ravi Varma!



When filmmakers appropriated the last two, they focussed on exaggerated romantic episodes and relegated everything else in their lives to the background, apparently to satisfy prurient audience expectations. I was personally (but of course!) outraged. But then, theoretically, everyone owns a historical figure, so anyone can forward an opinion. The film-maker is, thus, never 100 per cent right or wrong.


The difference between filming fiction and history is that, while both are prone to interpretation, fiction is more verifiable (against the written word, which is generally a single source) while history may depend on a hundred perspectives. That’s catch number one. The second is the appropriation of the film-maker. Here we come to the process of selection. This depends primarily on the kind of film that’s contemplated. A biopic for The History Channel, for instance, is more faithful to sources than a film meant for a wider release. The latter may add a few extras to keep the audience engrossed. It may also change history in small ways to become acceptable!



In my above list, the Michelangelo film (The Agony and The Ecstasy) was a more or less typical Hollywood film about the famed artist while Shantaram’s Dr Kotnis ki Amar Kahani was a no-nonsense film about a selfless Indian doctor in wartime Japan. Both stretched out their themes, though, to depict and study human qualities and emotions. The biopic, besides its role as chronicler, also showcases human qualities in order to suggest the ideal ones. Similarly, the other films: Bharati (patriotic, social, political), Bose (patriotic, political), Rand (intellectual, emotional) and Shankaracharya (spiritual-philosophical). The biopic is rarely a stand-alone offering. It rests on the unfolding of a thesis.



As for the present film on Pazhassi, Director Hariharan has said he altered the ending to give it a suitably cinematic finale. This can be argued, especially when we’re dealing with a historical subject.



In the preface to my Pazhassi book, I wrote: “I have taken the help of props like plays, legends, stories passed on from mother to son — anything that could breathe life into the musty pages of official records. The story only grows stronger because of these props.”



There's no other way of handling this. On one side are pages of official (mainly revenue-related) records. On the other, romance and legend — generations keep adding to this storehouse of stories until the protagonist becomes a prototype of everything heroic. The creative interpreter has to steer his steed through both these extremes and come out into an area of imaginative plausibility. In the absence of solid proof, this is the only way left: to be true to the dictates of your medium, whether book or film.



That’s why when Hariharan made Pazhassi Raja confront his opponent Baber’s army on a hilltop and end his life in mortal combat, I had nothing to say. Because when history has already been touched with legend, anything can be made to happen. And because another version suggests that Pazhassi took his own life rather than surrender. In my book, straight from the present Pazhassi family’s mouth and those musty records provided by Baber himself, the Raja comes down to a mountain stream to perform rituals for his mother’s death anniversary. The British army catches him there. His men surround him protectively but, in the scuffle that follows, Pazhassi is felled by a bullet. This is probably not dramatic enough for the grandeur of the present film.



Being a long-time observer of cinema, I personally feel that any moment in history can be rendered dramatic with the available technical and story-telling tools; you don’t have to manufacture moments to suit cinema. The director, being a long-time practitioner of cinema, probably had other ideas
(published in the Sunday Herald, Bangalore, in 2009)

T M T (the moment of truth)

The NCPA looked large, grand and gorgeous. it was filling with people, celebrities, socialites, readers and passionate invitees. it was good to see the magic store of nu-cham-vu on the panels, and blown up and prominently displayed. i wished vinayak, my son, was there to see his illustrations being made so accessible.

It was, of course, a moment of happiness as well as nervousness.

when the book was nominated, i felt okay. when it was shortlisted, i was happy. but now, on the brink of it, i felt rather prickly! ruskin bond was the chief guest. he spoke beautifully and simply, and narrated events during a time when the book business was but a fraction of its present size and scope. he used to do exactly the sort of thing i did--- go to a book store and secretly place my book at an advantage! of course, your books are always behind someone else's. so this is a nice, neat trick to reinforce your concern for your own book. nowadays, because of media coverage, you might be noticed by people in the shop, and they'd say, look at this writer, he's moving his own book around to give it prominence!

there was violin playing by some wonderful little kids, and it kept up the dirty, rotten suspense in a nice sort of way. a string of kids would play, they'd be joined by another, then another, and finally the stage was almost filled with wonderful youngsters blessed with talent. the comperes for the evening were arundhati subramaniam and ranjit hoskote. arundhati is my friend and theatre-person the late bhagyam's niece, and i'd communicated with her when i was leaving for scotland for the charles wallace residency in 2004. arundhati had gone the previous year.

they'd said the children's prize would be announced first. actually, it was the last to be announced! you can imagine my condition. earlier, i'd met my competitors, young siddhartha sarma and rupa pai. before the event i'd had coffee and a nice, relaxed conversation with siddhartha, who's a gem of a guy.

only one of the children's judges had turned up in mumbai that evening. she climbed up on stage and smiled down at the audience and said breathlessly that it had been very difficult to judge this one because there were books for young adults as well as for little children in the reckoning. "but then we came to a solution, we decided we'd look at the best in each category and then make our choice."

which means, if she'd been given all the books in fiction, non-fiction, translation and children's books to judge, she'd still have looked for the best and made a choice.

"a little child's picture book" was being judged against "stories for young adults"--- in her own words. and she had chosen the best.

siddhartha sarma's the grasshopper's run got the children's prize, and later siddhartha told me: i needed that money for a project i've planned. he's a very earnest young chap with a talented pen. but his book is young adult fiction, not children's writing. the distinction should have been made much earlier in the competition.

later, when i thought about the lady's breathless admission on stage, and this multi-category aspect of the judging, i thought: why am i feeling this way? is it simply a case of sour grapes?

no, it wasn't. it was a case of wine and whisky being placed under one category. and judged as the same thing.

T M T (the mumbai trip)

It was a wonderful trip, sponsored by the Vodaphone Crossword Prize people. and Mumbai, of course, was Mumbai. the hospitality was great, and there was this event management group and a girl named meghann d'sa who took good care of us, and when geeta (my wife) was late coming back from lunch with an old classmate and i was getting worried, meghann became the first professional i met who could be caring, efficient and effective all at the same time. she called geeta and then called me back and said with a smile in her voice, she's safe and coming back!

we went to my friend bobby's house, spent time with his lovely daughters, met his wife lata in the evening, and this was a highlight of the trip. one evening we all enjoyed ourselves at the leopold cafe where they're busy pointing out to everyone that this is where the terrorists struck. each violent mark is marked and preserved for a prying posterity. every foreign visitor to india was at leopold's that night. jam-packed! and cacophonic.

the first evening, we had a little event at one of the crossword stores. writers gurcharan das, kalpana swaminathan (who finally got the fiction award), salma and i debated the topic: will e-books ease out books? even though i was the only one whose book was now an e-book (lament of mohini) and whose books (the magic store of nu-cham-vu and maria's room) are also available as digital "talking books" for the blind and the dyslexic, i said books will never die out. gurcharan on the panel and bobby from the audience, as well as another youngster, said: you're just being nostalgic, books will soon be replaced by e-books. it was a good time out for us, and we enjoyed ourselves. two mornings later, geeta and i had breakfast with salma, the writer of the tamil book, the hour past midnight.

it rained almost throughout the trip. i'd forgotten my phone at home, so i was relatively free and untied. there was, of course, the nervous thread leading up to the awards function on the 20th. the venue was the ncpa, where i used to listen to music and also watch many of those "art movies", late70s and 80, when i was working for the indian express across the road.

in fact, there was so much that was familiar in spite of the way the city has grown. and it was wonderful to drive through on the sea-link. on my last visit, i'd seen it being built. this was truly enchanting, the spreading wings of the bridge trailing over the ocean froth.

and then the evening, and the awards function....

The Hindu : Life & Style / Metroplus : Books bridge the gap

The Hindu : Life & Style / Metroplus : Books bridge the gap

A Fresh New Review!

Whispers from the past


from FOLKS MAGAZINE

Maria’s Room
Author: Shreekumar Varma
Publisher: HarperCollins
Price:Rs 299

Award-winning poet of Dark Lord and Bow of Rama, Shreekumar Varma, has penned another gripping volume, Maria’s Room, a novel longlisted for the inaugural Man Asian Literary Prize. Set against the backdrop of Goa, with flashes of the past from Chennai and Kerala that present the reader with a kaleidoscope of memories to choose from, Maria’s Room depicts Raja Prasad’s journey from the present to the past and back.


At the commencement of the novel, one gets the sense of moving along a slow, winding river but as one progresses further into the novel, the current of the stream picks up. Tactically divided into three parts, each part gives the reader vital information to solidify one’s understanding of the central character, Raja. Overall, the rain-lashed, dreary and dark setting provides a very somber atmosphere through the novel, correlating with the protagonist’s mood.


The first part is the foundation of Raja’s history which becomes a vital link in solving the mystery behind Maria. The second and third parts are where the actual action takes place. The complicated relationship between the guilt-ridden Raja and the “delectable” Lorna comes into play from the second part onwards where we see the past clash with the present. Raja’s bizarre companionship with Fritz at the Capo’ Sun seems intriguing yet aggravating at times, its importance revealed to us only in the last part. The third part is like a fast-paced thriller where the mystery of Maria’s past and Raja’s existing predicament come together in a frenzied embrace to spring the most unbelievable surprise at the reader.


“What did Goa have to offer? Its beaches and its old-world, Portuguese-driven culture, its charming Konkan tradition, its music and good cheer, feni and drugs, a couldn’t-care-less attitude, its hospitality, churches and temples, and the gift of slow time.” This beautifully languorous description of Goa’s beaches, churches, villages and people creates a hypnotic effect upon the reader. It is as if we are absorbed into the novel, along with Raja, trying to find the missing puzzle pieces that lead to uncovering the scandal behind Maria. The obscurity surrounding “The Other Thing” and the hesitancy of Mrs Pereira and Milton in divulging any information about Maria’s death adds to the element of curiosity. Throughout the book one feels as if there is an invisible force guiding Raja towards Maria, as if they are somehow connected despite being spatially separated by decades.


Raja reconciles two aspects of a writer — creator and imitator. For him, the moving power of the past is rooted in images of unfulfilled love and deception, with emphasis on what ought to be. Well into the third part of the novel, we see an explicit manifesto of his literary intentions: The genesis of the story, how he turned to writing to escape reality, the problems of inspiration, the creative process and the role of his untamed imagination. So often in the course of the novel Raja tries to understand what makes for a good story which, to him, is like a word picture or a speaking picture. There are whispers from the past that help guide him through his literary dilemma, but the effect of these “whispers” is nothing short of incredible. Not just Raja, the reader too is dazed by the discoveries he or she makes.


The primary theme deals with the inner conflicts that romance precipitates in a man. Raja is viewed from many angles — literary artist, creative genius, guilty husband, anxious lover and detached son. Dramatic and intense, Maria’s Room has the ability to make the reader grasp the book and not part with it till the last piece of the puzzle of this mental jigsaw is assembled satisfactorily. The final chapter of the book is the most attention-grabbing, so I suggest pick up Maria’s Room and get started in order to find out just how the psyche can play games with us when we least expect it

The Job of a Writer

There's a piece of dialogue in my play Midnight Hotel where a writer's asked about his output. Trying to distract another character from the realisation that there's a ghost in the house, the writer talks fast and frantically about his job as a writer while all sorts of weird ghostly noises almost drown his voice. If the audience could hear what he was actually saying, then they'd have heard this: when he confesses he's a writer, people ask: Okay, and what do you DO? (Which is a common enough question as far as budding writers are concerned) "And then they look you up and down; you might as well be begging. Or in jail."

That part of the play is probably more real than fiction.

How does one explain the hours one is cloistered in his room, whipping up the imagination? And, of course, you can't always be expected to come up with something to show them, for God's sake!

I've been through this spate of interviews after Maria's Room, and everyone keeps marvelling at how many different things I'm working on. It's true: there are reviews, translations, a novel, a short story, and two other novels in the back-burner.

Problem is, there are so many days when nothing happens, and I face the night with a sigh. The fact that I'm sitting before the computer screen looking busy doesn't translate into copious outflow. Since there's no one to answer to (except for three deadly looking deadlines), I keep smiling and carrying on.

Ah, a writer's life's not so easy after all!

Two Faces of Maria!

Vinod Joseph is a writer and lawyer based in London. Here's his review of Maria's Room:

http://winnowed.blogspot.com/2010/04/book-review-marias-room-by-shreekumar.html

and in Epic India.

And here's journalist Ashwini Gangal's review in the Mumbai Mirror:

http://www.mumbaimirror.com/article/136/2010042320100423151624540eb00d668/Marias-Room-beckons.html

Reflections On Bureaucracy From A Hot Bench

I was at the RTO this morning, and found so many touts who operate the shaky area between user and officialdom. They are the open faces of "corruption" or "bribery" or second channels that we all talk about. If only we could remove corruption, we say.

I was sitting there waiting endlessly for my turn to come and I thought, why not legalise the tout so that the "extra" we pay out becomes not "bribery" but fees? If there are service providers who run around and procure things for those who are willing to pay for them, then it would be easier to come down upon official bribery. But then, I thought, what about meagre salaries and bad working conditions that make these officials demand bribes in the first place?

If you think down the line, following each of these arguments to their natural conclusions, we find that the only answer is: people should stick to their jobs and do them as well as possible. They should earn their salaries. Which means, if everyone from the Minister to the lowest level clerk did his/ her job with honesty and diligence, and not be swayed by extraneous considerations, the country would perk up and things would get done and extra money needn't be siphoned off and everyone would get their requirements attended to, and we wouldn't need to be sitting on a bench in the height of summer, distracting ourselves from profuse perspiration by reflecting philosophically about bureaucracy and politics and the good of our good nation.

The View From The Other Side(s)

"And so it is no surprise when a few pages later a girl’s ghost from the past disturbs the psyche of the protagonist. It is time then to settle for what Varma thinks is a detection set-up. But the strong hints get to be so loud that we are never surprised by anything that happens. Will there be a replay of Maria’s tragedy?"

"Raja tells us too little, until it is too late. Even the murkiest mystery arises from facts, and our interest in his situation could only really be piqued if we knew something solid about it. But his narrative, though rich in thought and observation, is short on facts. We are led to a conclusion without ever being primed for it. And when we finally understand, not just the secret of Raja's pathology, but the bare details of it, we wish we'd been told before."

These are crucial extracts from two good reviews of Maria's Room. The first appeared in the Sunday Herald and was written by noted critic and academician Prema Nandakumar. The other's from The Hindu's Literary Review, and is by Aditya Sudarshan, a young writer whose first novel was published last year.

The first complains that I give away so much in the story that there's no suspense left. The second says that I give so little away that it isn't fair to the reader. The rest of the reviews-- both of them-- have fairly nice things to say. Aditya calls it an atmospheric, highly literary novel. And Prema says: "Varma is a scene-watcher alright and has a way of coming up often with sentences we like to caress."

But their criticism leaves me confused, in complete contrast to each other. How will I learn from criticism? :-(

here's an interview from livemint.com and a review from the Sunday Tribune's Spectrum.

After the March

After last month's march, it's been a relatively quiet April week.

Jan end saw the launch of Maria's Room in Chennai. It was a fulfilling affair. Despite the fact that invite cards got lost in transit-- and consequently the organisers felt there wouldn't be much sense in asking for a bigger room-- so many turned up that a large number of people had to stand throughout, and I felt bad for them so I too kept standing (though, of course, I didn't tell them it was because of that!) There was so much fun and atmosphere that I thought it was a dream launch for Maria.

In Feb, my father-in-law passed away. He'd celebrated his 80th birthday last November. He watched the morning's spiritual programme on TV, lay down to rest for 15 mts before his coffee came, and didn't get up after that. An admirable way to go, no pain or helplessness, just a soft slipping away; but a rude and lasting shock for those he left behind. There'd been then a mad, long trip cutting across three states, on fabulous 4-laned highways, reserve forests and mountain slopes. It was mad all right. Unable to procure train/ flight tickets, we hired a car and drove to Kerala. We reached at 3 a.m. The cremation was already over by then. And then my son wondered if I could drop him in Bangalore. So, a bit after lunch the following day, we were on the road again. Through Mudhumalai and Bandhipur forests, and just before midnight, had dinner at a fabulous place en route called Kamat's, just after Chennapatna. My son kept telling me, we'll stop there, and the hours kept going, and hunger kept gnawing, and finally, when we reached, it was well worth the wait. And we reached Bangalore past midnight. My cousin Balan was kind enough to open the door for us with a smile, but then his house has always been a haven in Bangalore for us.

The day after I returned to Chennai, on Feb 19th there was a story-telling session for Scholastic at Landmark in the Citi Centre mall. There were six of us story-tellers. And so many kids with blankets and lit candles lolling on the carpet looking ruthlessly sweet, and their parents and curious onlookers, and I had to rouse myself to melodramatic moments to make a mark on these kids whose attention would only focus on anything above the ordinary. I certainly did try, but my friend Shobha Vishwanath (of Karadi Tales) and her son Kaushik stole the show, entertaining the kids and us. It was a very satisfying evening and, despite those tempting blankets, I don't think any of the kids dozed off.

28th Feb, there were two events! Which is most unusual for me, since even one event generally feels like too many. The first was in the afternoon at Loyola College, I was chief guest at the valedictory event of their Lit Fest. Though they were behind time, they graciously permitted me to address the students before the finale, so I could leave in time. Staying far away and having an evening event made me a bit flighty. But being with students is always fulfilling, and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. I even joked around with students from MCC, my old college. In the evening, the British Council sent a car to pick me up and took me to the Landmark book-store in Nungambakkam, where two British writers, China Mieville and Mark Billingham, were reading from their books as part of the BC's Lit Sutra. (pic above) I was the moderator, but as it often happens (notably during a Shashi Taroor book function some years ago, when I quickly yielded my "moderation" to the then diplomat's exuberance), it happened this time as well!

In March, first there was a reading of Maria's Room in Bangalore. I was reading along with débutante writer Mathew Menacherry. We got along fine, and I guess we both gave the audience our funnies' worth. Bangalore readings and events (even when my play Midnight Hotel was staged there) are always great because I've so many close relatives there that it becomes like a jolly, intimate festival. The next day, Mathew and I were together again at the launch of another book, an anthology, and we were supposed to do another "talk show", but I didn't enjoy this one very much, probably since the event achieved a breakthrough in my afternoon nap. But I was so happy with friends at this event.

I went to Kerala then to be with Geeta, and it was a quiet and unhurried few days, and I could also do some reading and writing. The day after I returned, I was chief guest at the Ethiraj College's national Literature Conference. I'd sent in my keynote address earlier, so I was at ease, but the speech sounded too stilted, and I knew I needed to be more "then and there" when I delivered it. It was a wonderful morning, and an academic atmosphere that I enjoyed after a very long time. I met Prema Nandakumar there (she was part of a panel discussion) and she hinted that she'd be reviewing Maria's Room as well (she'd reviewed Lament of Mohini for the Deccan Herald years ago).

Maria's had three reviews to date; at least those are the ones I've been able to access. Asian Age, The Hindu and Deccan Herald. The DH and Hindu reviews held diametrically opposite views! One said I'd dropped so many clues that the ending was no surprise at all. The other said that I'd sprung such a surprise at the end without at all leading up to it that it wasn't funny!

I'm waiting for more reviews!

As for Maria's Delhi launch, it was planned for April 10th, and I spread the word, but there was some problem with the venue, and now it's been postponed to April 21st at the Full Circle Book shop. Writer Jaishree Mishra will be reading along with me.

So let's see how it goes.

Back!

Poor Thinko's been so starved. November's a long way behind. And so many things have happened since.

Just couldn't stand his lonely expression. That's why I came and started this. No time to continue, though,

lots of reading and a bit of writing to do. A college conference, a panel discussion, a book launch, a reading and another college conference coming up. When I'm more relaxed, I'll come back and post.

Promise, Thinko!

Interview in ET Madras Plus

Interview by Shruti Padmanabhan. Pics by A.R.Sumanth Kumar.

Economic Times Madras Plus. November 5, 2009.