Earlier this year, I spent three weeks at the lovely IIT-Kanpur campus all thanks to some work my husband had there. There were many new experiences involved in it for me, including living on a campus, cycling from home to work and interacting with faculty and students who talked more engineering and science that philosophy. (I will be writing a more detailed blog on these experiences soon)
After a couple of weeks, desperate for some shot of creativity in that island of facts, I sought the company of English Literary Society at campus on Saturday evening, run by enthusiastic bachelors’ students there. It was a marvellous hour spent with about twelve of them, in a round table discussion on what believing in science means to them, how they feel once they’ve entered this ‘heaven’ of Indian education and delving into philosophy of what truth means and if it’s but a perception. Informal, full of riveting discussion and super fun.
So I was quite surprised to see an email from them earlier this week, asking me to judge a Haiku competition which they are hosting at campus right now. I wasn’t sure about it since I’ve not written Haiku since a long, long time and studied the short poetic form so very effectively used by the Japanese writers, very briefly in my masters of English. I am wordy and usually write long forms.
After a few email exchanges with them though, I had to say yes, since they seemed convinced about their choice. I have had a slight alien relationship with competitions in general, having written on how winning is important for little kids and also on how competition is perceived as healthy in our modern society. So it would be a test of myself, to see what the whole judging process will bring out not only in those who are entering this competition, but also in me, who is selecting the ‘better’ entries.
Let’s hope the ones that are ‘judged’ won’t come back on me, screaming vengeance. Always a risk in our rather competitive society, isn’t it? I will be posting all the entries I like on my blog later and the reasons that I chose them (if my instinct is kind enough to grant them). Till then, ciao!
Many a times, when you write, you don’t really know why you’re writing this particular story and what it is that you want to say or experience through it. It’s instinctive, this desire to write a story. Which is why I was quite surprised to get to know something about me recently.
I’ve been talking to the media and the industry about the upcoming launch of Anantya Tantrist’s first book, Cult of Chaos. So when Tehelka‘s associate editor Sabin, wrote to me to make Anantya part of their cover story on women’s safety in Delhi, I said yes.
Little did I know what I would figure out from that interview. While answering questions, I realised how much I have lived in fear of being molested/raped/kidnapped while growing up in Delhi. I’ve carried this fear on my back, like a corpse, it has slowed me down, stressed me but also given me strength and aggression to live and survive. Which is why I wrote a character like Anantya Tantrist. She’s fearless, she’s aggressive and she can take on anything that comes her way. She chooses to live alone in Delhi and own its nights. In my head, she’s everything I couldn’t be, but would like to be, like Superman is to little boys (and a few big ones).
I wrote Anantya for myself and others like me, to give other women hope and determination. That survival instinct. That you can survive and live #fearless. Thanks Sabin, for helping me realise this.
Daring and foul-mouthed Anantya could be anywhere in India but the fact (or, the fiction) that she is roaming around the streets of New Delhi contextualises a conversation with her creator, Shweta Taneja, who grew up in the national capital, when we talk about the broader topic of violence against women.
In the wake of repeated incidents of rape and violence against women, how do you look at women’s safety issues in New Delhi?
I feel two things: a mad sense of anger and a helpless feeling of frustration. Anger because I can’t do anything about the senseless violence I see being perpetrated on women everywhere in the country and not just in New Delhi. On the streets, in offices, in bedrooms, in restaurants, in cars, on public and private transport and at homes — everywhere. Forget Delhi, women don’t feel safe anywhere in this country.
My frustration comes from the fact that every time an incident happens, a molestation or rape, usually of a woman, we try and build walls to protect ourselves or if we are men, protect our women. We ask the police to be more vigilant, to patrol, to install cctvs, to put fences, to add more guards, more grills, to track with gps, to have checks and policing in place so that women can feel safe. But the sad truth is that building walls will only make the outdoors wilder, segregating gender will only alienate each gender from the other and increase violence. No government, no men, no police, no institution can make it all go away. What can perhaps make a difference is that if you, me, all of us, in spite of the violence, go outdoors, at all times, at all places, fearlessly own the night. Be there, not in groups, not with men, but alone — until it becomes the norm. We need to own the spaces, only then can we be safe.
What is your experience of growing up in the city? Any lingering memories?
Much to the chagrin of my parents, growing up, I loved to be out on the roads of Delhi rather than stay at home. A love I share with Anantya. There’s a sense of freedom to be able to walk (not ride in closed spaces like cars), take a deep breath, smell the city. But I have always felt a sense of insecurity, a sense of alertness when I walk on the streets. I have grown aggressive because of collated bad experiences for years — creepy touches, bottom pinches, side leers, breast stares and squeezes. I have experienced it all because I refused to get off the road or the public spaces. I refused to huddle within groups. But yes, Delhi has converted me into a hedgehog. When I am walking, I don’t smile at a stranger, I am wary and vigilant. That’s a bit unfortunate.
Why do you write? And why Cult of Chaos?
I write because I itch to tell stories. When I am not writing, I am making up stories and orally telling them to my friends. I want to explore the idea of otherness, of strangeness, of non-humans, paranormals and supernaturals through these stories, which is why I am writing in the fantasy genre. I want to explore ‘us’ versus ‘them’ in all their manifestations.
I wrote Cult of Chaos because I was itching to write a work of detective fiction that mixes Indian folklore and supernatural creatures into a mystery. Anantya Tantrist happened because I was so bored of all the action taken up by male superheroes and superstars while women sat on the side, as pretty eye-candy. I wanted a story in which a woman gets her hands dirty, has all the adventures, kicks the villains and goes to a bar later to celebrate. And Cult of Chaos is all that and more!
Can you take us through the experience of writing this book? Anantya’s story has been an emotional journey for me. I was creating a female character who is fearless, independent, who just doesn’t give two hoots about what the society thinks, who isn’t dependent on a man. I had to change so many scenes constantly because they were written keeping in mind the ‘limitations’ a woman would have in our society. But Anantya doesn’t adhere to those limitations. I wanted to create a character who will step out of all the gender ideas we have as a society, which is why I rewrote and rewrote, overcoming my limitations as a writer and as a product of our society. And I am amazed at who she has turned out to be. I respect her, am in awe of her, and even have a crush on her.
I sit in my study all day and write while she is out on the streets, taking on powerful people, protecting the helpless, solving violent crimes, also having supernatural adventures of all kinds. She is exposed, while I live a protected life. She is all action while I am all thinking. But just the fact that I have been lucky enough to write her story has changed me too, given me wings. I want to be more like her. I want to own the streets too, fearlessly.
This was just sent by Harper Collins team. It’s the cover of Anantya Tantrist’s first adventure in book format and I feel butterflies the size of dinosaurs in somewhere in the deep dark pits of my being. So I wanted to distract myself by telling you all a story. (For that’s what stories are for, no?) This one is the story of an incredible artist and his various kindnesses.
On a lazy Sunday a year ago, I headed to Leaping Windows (now unfortunately closed) with a twinkle in my eye. Two weeks before that, I had just finished reading one of the most amazing graphic novels in recent times, Moonward. I had stolen it from Jerry, who runs The Jam Hut in Hennur. My husband’s a drummer and I accompany him with a book sometimes. Much to my delight, that sunny day, I found a signed Moonward in Jerry’s little library. In it, I discovered the wise dragonfly I had first seen in the old Mojo’s pub off Residency Road.
Mojo’s was the pub I headed to in my first weekend in Bangalore. The only thing I remember of old Mojo’s with fondness (an otherwise seedy bar where you have to rub your eyes to see, get soggy popcorns and the loos always smelled of pee) were the frescoes done by Appupen aka George Mathen. His lovely frescoes, especially the artwork above, were the first thing that had made me feel part of the city I call my own now, Bangalore. ‘It’s the same artist,’ I exclaimed, touching the old, wise dragonfly guy.
Moonward turned out to be a similar journey of a creature in a fantasy world called Halahala, both marvellously witty and socially sharp. I hogged it in a day, delighted, thrilled and left with an unfinished feeling. So I went online looking for its creator and a copy for myself. After I hounded him over Facebook, George agreed to meet me to sign a copy of his works.
So the Sunday mentioned above happened. As I marvelled the frescoes George had created at the little café in Indianagar, he walked in, a kind fellow with a sparkle in his eye and a self-deprecating smile. He signed two copies of his Moonward and Legends Of Halahala (one for me, one as a wedding gift for pals Thej and Anju) and then spend a whole hour with me, telling me tales of literary festivals, how he draws the spectacular graphic novels (by getting a bit high on mutton and other stuff) and how much he loves playing the drums (he was part of the popular Bangalore-based band Lounge Piranha). I heard his tales, full of wisdom and wit and laughed and giggled. A cup of coffee later, I realized it was more than an hour that we’d been chatting, that I had poured onto him ALL my hopes and fears about publishing Anantya Tantrist‘s first book. Secretly, I so wanted him to draw her out but how does one ask such a favour from such a big artist? So I didn’t. I left instead because I had stranded a dear pregnant friend, forgotten all about her, while I was there, chatting with George. But being evil is worth it sometimes.
A few months happened and Harper Collins after a long haul said yes to publishing Anantya’s series. I was superbly happy. When my editor asked me who should do the cover, I knew, I knew I had to ask George then. So I did and crossed my fingers, because HC couldn’t pay that much to an artist like him!
But George, though he might say a vigourous no to being labeled with the the term, is super-kind. So he agreed to draw Anantya’s face, to recreate her as a goddess, as Kali. The result was completely different from what I had imagined and the brief I had doled out (and I am so thankful for that!). When I was writing Anantya Tantrist‘s book, I imagined her face and body and expressions in many, many ways. But it was never, ever like this. I was surprised, gutted, shocked when I saw Anantya drawn like this. And that’s the magic of George’s pen. His paintbrush slashed perceptions and prejudices and went to the very core, cutting Anantya to the bone. She would like that.
My heart is still beating, because I love it so much and can’t wait for reactions to Cult of Chaos, Anantya’s upcoming book in December. I am lucky to have found such kind people in the city I belong to now. Thanks, George, for your kindness to a stranger.
Connect with Appupen online on Facebook. George’s older art can be found on his personal Facebook page, here, here and even here. I highly recommend his latest graphic novel, Aspyrus (Amazon // Flipkart) which is a fascinating exploration of silent comic.
Last year, during a detective workshop at the Hippocampus library in Bangalore, I met Vimala and her team, the super gals who run the Hippocampus School Library Services, which is all about setting up beautiful, readable, exciting libraries in schools. I’ve always loved the musty smell of books, much like coffee, heady and imaginative and colourful. So when Vimala asked me to do a couple of workshops at different schools in Bangalore as part of their National Library Week, how could I refuse?
At Hippocampus last year
So this Friday, I am headed to meet kids at Legacy School. Will update this post again when I’m back to tell you how it went!
I love doing my detective workshop with tweens. When I created the mystery (which is loosely based on The Ghost Hunters of Kurseong), I had no idea it would be such a blast for not only the kids but also for me, to do it again and again, to see the stories that the kids built up with the clues I gave them. To see them put their thinking hats, huddle, frown in concentration and generally have a great time owning a story and solving a crime.
So when the kind organisers at the Bangalore Literature Festival asked me to do one, how could I say no? That’s how on a sunny Saturday I stood in front of about forty curious kids. The workshop ran a bit late, which gave me enough time to drop by at the cosy Author Lounge at the festival which had a selection, much to my delight of lovely teas, including Dilmah Earl Gray of which two cups were had. Alongside, a conversation with star-author couple Zac O’Yeah and Anjum Hasan, both of whom are spectacular writers and have helped me many times with gyaan and kindness.
The workshop started as usual with disruption. I asked the hovering parents to go off, leave the kids alone, divided the kids by their age groups and made sure there were groups of strangers. For it’s always fun for me to see strangers become friends in an hour, all thanks to solving a mystery together.
The mystery itself had to be rushed through because of time constraints, and when I gave the answer of the whodunit, one little girl came to me afterwards and said, ‘I was almost there, wasn’t I?’ I nodded seriously and told her, ‘Yes, unfortunately you didn’t have enough time to think it through.’ Because kids do need to mull over things, as do we, to find answers.
‘You wrote this book?’ asked a 10-year-old. ‘Yes,’ I answered. Looked at the book, back at me, back at the book with a frown. ‘You don’t look like an author,’ he concluded finally, leaving me to wonder what does an ‘author’ look like? What is their dresscode or facecode? Any comments there, readers?
A parent came across with this: ‘I was a bit jittery leaving her alone when you said parents are to leave, because she’s so shy, but she had a great time, thank you.’ That left me with a happy smile.
At the end of the workshop I was surrounded, happily so, with parents who were ‘guarding’ me for a signature as their kids ran to the bookshop across the festival to get The Ghost Hunters of Kurseong. Later when I went to the bookstore to take a photo of my book with the ‘biggies’, I was told all my books had been sold off. So I didn’t get a brag photo, but did come back with a wider smile! My books in the hands of kids!
Back at the Author Lounge, another Dilmah Earl Grey in hand, I was called outside to meet a shy smiling young lady. ‘You’re her favourite author right now,’ said her mum asking me if it was okay to take a photo with her. ‘And you will read the book?’ I asked her, behaving stern and adult-ish, taking advantage of her being smitten. She nodded shyly, her eyes sparkling with happiness as her toddler sister waved at me. ‘Great, send me an email after you do,’ I said, hugging her. The next day, her kind mother posted this on my Facebook page.
I proclaim this as the highlight of my experience at the Literature festival. I remain amazed at how much love the little ones give. She reminded me of Medha, the kind 11-year-old I met in Delhi, who had written to me after reading my book in Delhi, gifted me a painting of an owl! Which I realized I never shared on my blog, so here it is.
My realisations at this workshop
I admire parents who take out time from their busy schedules to expose their kids to life. There were so many experienced, talented authors who were there at the festival, interacting with kids. It must be something of a spectacular experience for the child, no? And so much better than buying them toys, or taking them around the mall. Hats off to you, parents.
Interacting with kids always makes me love them more. They’re so giving, so generous, so adoring with their love, with their trust, and so curious with their questions. What happens to us when we grow up? Why can’t we remain kids? (Sighs.)
Oh, and it’s very, very important to have a loving husband to take care of you, feed you, take a few pictures of the event and drive you back home.
Very important. 🙂 Thank you, A 🙂
Earlier this year, I signed on a piece of paper with a trembling hand and suddenly, I was an author with a series contract with Harper Collins India. My transformation left me with nothing but a sense of giddiness and sweaty palms. As the elation vanished, I realised that I had only written one of the three books promised to the sweet gals at HC so I went back to work, keeping the contract carefully plasticated somewhere in a forgotten drawer.
Which is why I completely forgot to tell you all, my readers, friends and those who’ve rooted for me (or would like to now) about how it happened. So here’s the tall tale.
For my first book, The Ghost Hunters of Kurseong, finding a publisher had been quite a breeze from what I had been expecting (1. Get rejections from all major publishers 2. Put it up online as an ebook and then figure). When the wonderful editor at Hachette India showed interest on a direct submission to their website (without an agent, something that they do for one or two titles a year. Pitch to them, peeps!), I looked at the email, reread it, rubbed my eyes and did a jiggle. From the first interest to the contract was a long marathon of three months full of butterflies in the stomach. But the contract happened and I thought, wow, this was quite okay. Not as bad as the horror stories of 100 rejection emails and all that.
Then Anantya Tantrist happened. My first novel for adults with a tantric heroine who is such a badass that my cheeks flame up sometimes when I am writing her story. Her world is brutal and so is her attitude. But I was more confident with her. Hachette India had already said yes to one of my books, so selling the second should be better? Yes?
NO.
I realised that with a kick in the butt. She and her world were (and still are) a series character in my head. I already wanted to write book 2 of her story and then book 3 and then you know how it goes. But already, rejections were piling up like bad advice from astrologers. They are still piling up by the way, only they come from other countries now. There were so many reasons that The Cult of Chaos, the book one in Anantya Tantrist’s series, got rejected. Most of them were polite and polished and told me nothing. I had already given the book to an editor at HC (Let’s call her ED) who I knew would loved SFF titles (having already stalked her online). She was sweet and Anantya liked her too. I was quite keen on her. But there was no yes till now.
Meanwhile, I fished out a list of agents and sent my book to them, panic building up in me. It had been months. I had moved on to launching my other books, but it had been months! WritersSide was the fastest to respond back and take my book on. They did that in a day (I am still surprised about that one). WS helped me by communicating with HC again and sending it to a lot of other publishers who didn’t have any general submission email ids. But I was most keen on ED, because Anantya kept on telling me that she liked her and if you know Anantya, you will realise, she seldom likes people. Since Anantya wasn’t letting me be, I accosted ED at Bangalore Lit Fest last year and told her what Anantya was insisting I tell her. That she’s the editor for Anantya‘s story. Kudos to ED, she took it with a straight face, even though it was quite sunny. I guess she’s used to writers of all crazy kinds. HC had some doubts about the violence in the books, which we figured, discussed and finally, that trembling moment came for me when I signed the three-book contract. It took eight months from when I finished The Cult of Chaos. The book will be released in November 2014.
What this has taught me
– You need to find the right editor for the book. ED was right for the book, even though she had initial doubts. She loved the idea of Anantya and her world. If the editor connects with the book, she will fight the battle for your book from the beginning (getting you a contract) to the end (speaking about it at panels with sparkles in her eyes). So right editor, peeps, very very important. And that begins with focusing on people and not on the publisher. ED, thanks btw!
– I always wanted to write more than one books about Anantya, but when I started to find a publisher for her, I didn’t think of pitching the first book as a series. I know, kinda dumb, but I don’t think future too much. There WS helped me refocus. They insisted on me writing briefs of possible stories for Books 2 and 3 (which I surprisingly managed on a holiday). That way, I am sure that I get three of Anantya’s titles published even if Book 1 fails to make a mark (which I hope doesn’t happen). But it gives me insurance of some kind about the three books. Even though I had to take lesser advances for book 2 and 3 (because the publisher’s risk increases). WS also helped me streamline the contract and make is bare minimum so that I retain most of my rights and can sell them somewhere else.
– All of this: the pitching, the marketing, workshops, conferences, panels, the selling, the media, internet, social media, all of it distracts you from the one thing you started with: Love of writing. It’s important to switch off after you’ve got a contract or after the book is out. Switch off and keep writing (goes under notes to self). Again and again.
I am giving away free author-signed copies of The Ghost Hunters of Kurseong! To participate, all you got to do is sign in with a Goodreads account and click.
It’s that simple really. And Goodreads is a beautiful place to meet people who love books and find new books for yourself! Connect with me on Goodreads! 🙂 Click below to reach the Giveaway. May the most curious win. (oh, and the giveaway is on for a month! That gives enough time for even the laziest of people to participate)
Making comics is such a difficult task. I have always appreciated the dedication and the love of comics in artists that i meet every day online and offline. So it took me a while to say yes to the kind people at Bookalore when they suggested that I do a comics workshop in their July event for kids. I went back to the drawing board (my whiteboard in my study) and figured what to do with kids. How does one teach about making comics? As a writer that too? So I asked Bangalore-based, soft spoken artist Ojoswi Sur to join me in the workshop to give an artist’s perspective to kids.
It was all experimentation on our part. We loosely structured the workshop and decided to give the kids the basics of comic making (panels, balloons for dialogues, types) and gave them a chilling scene from The Ghost Hunters of Kurseong and see what they came up with. The results were surprising and so much fun! The kids huddled, discussed, wondered, had a nervous breakdown, scribbled, begged each other for erasers and mostly I hope had a grand time. Of course I had grossly underestimated the time they would need to make comics and given them a long scene (poor things), so none could complete the effort. But they did have a gala time and I requested them to complete the comics at home and email them to me. Hope some do.
Some pictures that my dear, dear Ashwani who always comes with me to workshops, took. Enjoy 🙂
If the pictures don’t open in your browser, see them on either of these links: Google+ or Facebook depending on your choice of network.
It’s a trickle really, but with three books out in the market, I have slowly started to get letters from readers who’ve enjoyed my work. I wanted to share them as a blog today because, well these letters (emails really) make my heart sing. Write to me, dear readers and lovers of books! I quite enjoy chattering 🙂
“Just happened to pick up The Skull Rosary for weekend reading and I must say it is one of the most impressive piece of work that has come out of Indian comic book/Graphic novel industry. Very well researched stories, artwork and overall design. Made me search about the people involved in creation of such a masterpiece and the next thing I found myself was writing this mail to you!
Being a comicbook reader since my childhood, I had been waiting for indigenous work that can strike a chord with mature audiences. Though there has been a surge of various publication houses starting with virgin comics (followed by holycow, level10, vimanika, campfire etc..) in this space, works like yours are few and far between. A lot of them have focused on Indian mythology genre (which I am a big fan of) but a few have managed to capture the imagination of audiences like me because they present the rehashed versions of stories already known to us since childhood. Work like your’s is, to use the cliche, a breath of fresh air in this space.”
“I am Simaran and I have read your book namely The Ghost Hunters of Kurseong and it was a pleasure reading it. I would like to read more books like this. Hope u are working on such books.”
I thought i must share this little note with you. Some time back, i was invited to a birthday party of a kid of one of my wife’s friends. Not knowing what to gift the child, i bought a copy of Campfire Graphic Novel’s ‘Krishna’ . I didn’t know the kid & had never met him before but i knew that you can never go wrong in gifting a comic. At the party, i saw that the child had received many gifts..mostly toys, games, action figures. I guess we were the only couple who gifted him a comic. Some time later, birthday boy walks up to me and says..”Uncle, thank you so much for your gift. This is the very 1st time that i’m actually seeing a story book that has the story depicted through illustrations. I love the art work and it’s about Krishna!”. His joy knew no bounds! I was shocked to know that he had never read a comic yet and that my gift was to be his very 1st one! He’s so busy with his play stations & watching cartoons on T.V that he just doesn’t have time to read- i was told by his dad! Since then, i ONLY gift comics to kids on their birthdays…and its mostly ‘Krishna’ written by you. I personally love the book for its writing & artwork and i do believe that it makes an excellent gift. Thanks!
Hello Mam … You’re books are extremely nice and artwork is also nice . As an art enthusiast myself I appreciate the quality of art in the book Krishna Defender of Dharma. At the first sight itself the cover artwork captivated me and it was amazing. Wishing you best of luck and further talks with you.
Thank you all of you for creating hungry stars in my eyes! Keep writing back 🙂
. I had stolen it from Jerry, who runs 
(one for me, one as a wedding gift for pals Thej and Anju) and then spend a whole hour with me, telling me tales of literary festivals, how he draws the spectacular graphic novels (by getting a bit high on mutton and other stuff) and how much he loves playing the drums (he was part of the popular Bangalore-based band Lounge Piranha). I heard his tales, full of wisdom and wit and laughed and giggled. A cup of coffee later, I realized it was more than an hour that we’d been chatting, that I had poured onto him ALL my hopes and fears about publishing 
George’s older art can be found on his personal Facebook page, 
So when the 
