10th January 2008
Creating a blog and writing was my desire since I heard about blogs. I was not well conversant with the technicalities of computer. I was postponing it and was spending lot of time on my computer. Quite often the computer used to go out of order, and I had to wait for the technician to come and set it right. Slowly, I gathered confidence, that I can handle this art of technology and started my venture. Incidentally, when my daughter-in-law,was introduced to us, by my son, she told that her hobby was writing, and she was going to write a novel. Her statement woke up the sleeping giant in me and my urge to write was growing.
Story telling, i.e.,imagining certain things and narrating them, in an interesting way to others was one of my in born quality, and it was once again encouraged by my mother by talking to me and asking me to narrate things to her, during my early days. In my pre high school days, I used to lose my pens quite often, and tell different stories to my mother, whenever I lost one.
Once, I told her that somebody interrupted me, while coming from the school ( We had to walk up and down four miles from our home to school and back), slapped me on my cheek and taken away the pen. My mother believed that story, and sympathised with me and did not scold me for the loss. Unluckily, the same evening, my uncle (who was the youngest brother of my mother, who was also studying with me in the same school)came home and inquired to my mother, " did Hari get back the pen he lost in the school?". The truth was that, I lost the pen when I was in the school itself and was searching for that. My uncle who was senior to me by two classes in the school, was also searching the pen for me. We walked back home after our search was futile. I parted with my uncle at his house at Thalaiyur which is half a mile before my village
and then proceeded to my village, building the imagination of a story to tell my mother. I never anticipated that my uncle will come to our home after one hour, and also check with my mother whether I recovered my pen. My mother got annoyed, not only because I lost the pen, but also for telling a lie, to escape from her scolding. At that time she told me sarcastically in anger, "You can start writing stories. How beautifully you narrated the incident and about the person who robbed the pen from you!".
Even though, I faced admonitions from her for my wrong act, that statement inspired me to become a writer. Becoming a writer was my dream and ambition, since the age of ten, and I wanted to read lot of stories, to build my talent, and subscribing to "Aananda Vikatan" was one of them.
The school, where we studied, was four miles from our place, and in those days, there was no other mode of transport to go to school, except by walking. There used to be groups to go together, and these groups will split on petty quarrels and join on advantages of going together. My younger sister, my younger brother, and some of my cousins and friends used to form a group and walk to and fro from school. It will take nearly an hour or an hour and half to reach the school. Normally, while going to school, there used to be only chit chats, and the concentration will be only to reach school on time. But, while coming back, we all used to be in a relaxed mood, and that is the time, I started telling stories to my group.
The stories generally used to be consisting characters of King, Queen , Prince, Princess and Villain, (mostly commander-in-chief of the army). There will be fights, horse riding, sword fights etc. All these stories were mixtures of films I have seen and the stories I have read, with little bit of my own imaginations. As the time passed, I started building up my own stories and I had lot of fans. Other than summer, or before the harvest season, we cannot go to our school by taking the short cut through the fields, and were forced to go through the road only, which is one mile more than the short cut route. This gave lot of scope for stretching my imagination to narrate the story, until, we reach our village.
My mother was always admirer of my lies, I mean, my imaginations and build up of stories. She sincerely felt that I have the talent to become a writer one day.
Once, after reaching Hyderabad, for my higher studies, I happened to write a letter on the occasion of my Grandfather's cousin's sixtieth birth day. The letter had beautiful narration of the characters of the person who was celebrating, his wife, his sons, and the close relatives, and was written in chaste Tamil. It appears, that the letter was read in public on the occasion, and everybody clapped and appreciated the letter. It seems one lady came and told my mother "I have not seen your son. But, I like to see him. You are very lucky to have a son who can write like this." My mother proudly told me this, when I went to my village for vacation. ( to be continued)