Books that reminded me of my grandmother and her bed-time stories



Pic courtesy flipkart


These are a set of three books (at least for now- I hope she writes more of these!) by Anu Kumar, who has earlier been interviewed here by Satish for Saffrontree. They were picked up by A (all by herself) a few weeks back, and have been read many times since. By both of us.

Jatayu - Saviour from the Skies.
Nandi - The Divine Gatekeeper.
Jambavan - The Immortal Bear King.
Written by Anu Kumar.
Published by Hachette India Children's Books.
Ages 4+

Jatayu, Nandi and Jambavan are who one might call 'minor characters' in the Indian epics, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. They are nevertheless important in their own way. Here we have our own homegrown versions of magic and divinity, fantastic creatures and gods /demigods behaving in a most human way. In each book, we go through almost entire epics from the vantage point of the particular protagonist.

I was reminded of a set of books called 'Katha Kalpataru' written in Marathi, that I have from which I had been read to in my early childhood by my grandmother, ( the books invoked some serious nostalgia!)and which I have myself devoured when I was older and able to read Marathi on my own. It is a set of 16 books, a compilation of many interlinked stories from the Indian mythology, told in the way of folktales, one story leading seamlessly to another. There are many fast-forwards and flashbacks to this kind of storytelling, but it is guaranteed to keep the attention of the audience/reader.

Anu Kumar has used this same method in her books, distilling all stories about the protagonist from various sources- which I am sure are the two epics and the Puranas.

She has also mentioned that there are various versions of the same story, as also different geneologies for the characters, and that she has taken the most interesting versions for her book. This, I think, is true of most of mythology/folklore- and it changes depending upon the culture in which the story has been propogated.

This may be an interesting addition to the book collections of those who want mythology in bite-sized portions, or for parents struggling to come up with a bed-time story for a little one- a story interesting enough, but not too long (each chapter can become a separate story)- and yet keep the child wanting more the next day. As also a slim enough book for a child/parent who may be intimidated by a bigger book. (I know many of those- I have added these books to my list to be recommended to those friends/ neighbours who would like to have a book for a child not seriously into reading, but wanted something interesting, as well as inexpensive.) Or just another interesting book on Indian mythology for someone like us here.

Crossposted at Saffrontree.

Our Great Mumbai Holiday plus

So the kid is off to school, and as Starry so succintly puts it: the chains are off! First time in 2 months that I have managed to sit down in front of my laptop without someone wanting my attention.

So what did we do in the holidays? Quite a list.

Attended a super Carpentry workshop at Hippocampus, our library, run by a dear friend. We have a working model of a sun-dial, and a toy aeroplane to show for it. Thoroughly enjoyed by A.

Went to Mumbai after a very long 2 years, visiting parents and in-laws.

Sisters-in-law (2 of them) and I carted the kids (4 boys aged 12-17 years and A) over to the over 200 year old Shree Siddhivinayak temple  in Prabhadevi, which is believed to grant wishes to devotees. It is a favoured place to visit for those who revere Ganesha/ Ganapati- the elephant headed god of learning, who is also believed to remove obstacles from one's life, and is invoked as 'Shree' before undertaking anything of importance.

Also visited the Mahalakshmi temple in Worli, which is built right next to the sea, with the waves breaking on its walls at high tide. The sea fascinated A more than anything else, as the last time we saw the sea was the North sea off Scotland when she was just 3, and she doesn't have any memory of it.

Went shopping with the entire gang (ladies and kids only) to Crawford Market built by the British in 1869 after travelling by the mumbai local trains. A was horrified by the crowd, the rush, and the chaos of both, but enjoyed the outing with her cousins.

Also checked out the extremely high end and absolutely unaffordable Palladium mall and the adjacent High Street Phoenix mall at the place where the famed Phoenix mills- cotton mills- were situated. The only place there that we could even think of buying something was the absolutely enormous Landmark, which had such a wide range of books that I could not do justice in terms of browsing. Picked up a few titles there- but of course. It was literally like getting into Alladin's cave for both A and I, and I plan to make a visit to just that one store on a later visit to Mumbai.

Made a family trip to the absolutely wonderful Tikuji-ni-wadi with brother and his family- A now had two cousins, my nephew aged 11 and niece aged 5 with her. It is very near the city, a few kilometers from my parents' house, but it is like stepping into another time zone. Of course there are the rides and the water parks that were fun for the kids, but the part I enjoyed most were that there was a sprawling chickoo orchard, with village style cots scattered around on which we could relax after a morning of activity and just chill. Which the sister-in-law and I did, as the brother took the kids off for rides. The food is very ordinary, though, just routine noodles-pizza-sandwich-chelpuri-other chaats stuff, not very inspiring. I was hoping for a homestyle gujju spread, and was much disappointed.

Immersed myself in many things marathi-

Typical food cooked by my mother- pithla bhakri, ambadichi bhaji, puraN poLi, kadhigoLe, waTli daL, waraNphaL, shrikand (home made) puri, and most of all, alphonso mango in many avataars. I even picked up aambawadi (a burfi like preparation from mango pulp), aambapoLi (alphonso pulp put out on plates and sundried), phaNaspoLi (made from jackfruit pulp), aambyacha satha (just a lump of dehydrated alphonso pulp).

I also picked up the all important Goda Masaala which is an important and indispensible ingredient of maharashtrian cuisine, and which is unfortunately not available anywhere. At least I have never found it. It is a difficult masaala to make at home, as it has many ingredients and is quite labour intensive. Something I have been too lazy to make at home, as my mother and grandmother always did.

pic courtesy lokvani.com

Took A to many Marathi theatre performances for children. The most notable of which was Durga Zali Gauri, a dance drama, which moves forward only in song and dance. A loved it, and we heard nothing but those songs for a few days. It is comparable to Agatha Christie's play "Mousetrap", in that it has been running to a full house for the last 29 years, and its popularity shows no sign of abating. Unfortunately, it has still not been released on DVD, but I picked up an audio CD at the time of the performance. Something I would recommend to any theatre lover visiting Mumbai during the summer vacations. Performances are only then, as the children acting in it are free at the time. I spoke to Arun Kakade, the person behind it all, about having shows in Bangalore. He was interested, and told me that he had spoken to some people here about it, but that the logistics of transporting a 50+ troupe of dancers, housing them, almost all children, was daunting. Our loss!

I went for a few Marathi theatre performances too- two of which were written by the noted playwright, Sai Paranjpye, better known outside of Maharashtra for her sensitively made movies like Katha, Chashhme Baddoor and Sparsh. Also saw a few Marathi movies- some on DVD and one in theatres- the newly released Bal Gandharva which is a biographical film based on the life of one of Marathi's greatest and pioneering singers, and actor Narayan Shripad Rajhans, better known by his alter-ego : Bal Gandharva.

On DVD, saw quite a few. Am convinced that regional movies have a lot more to offer on realistic and well made movies- of an extremely high calibre as compared to the staple bollywood fare. I can probably count those bollywood films that impressed me in the last five years on the fingers of my hand. I do not really know much about regional films in other Indian languages, but going by those that are aired on LokSabha channel, there are quite a few world-class movies being made. When will bollywood wake up and smell the celluloid?

Anyway, the ones I saw this time-

Rita, based on the book of the same name by renowned marathi writer Shanta Gokhale- it is the story of Rita Welingkar, the eldest of three daughters, who starts working at an early age when her no-good father loses his job, and pretty much becomes the parent for her sisters, inspite of having both her parents alive. On the way she gets into a relationship with her much older and much-married-with-kids boss. The movie captures very well Rita's struggle to make things more meaningful in her life- wonderfully played by Pallavi Joshi.

Mee Sindhutai Sapkal (I, Sindhutai Sakpal) based on her autobiography named Mee Vanvasi (I, the exiled), is the story of a poor woman born in rural Maharashtra- pulled out of school and married off at age 12 to a man more than twice her age, and her struggle for a life of dignity. She is thrown out by her husband, pregnant, near term, with her third child, on a false charge of infidelity. This is the story of how she stands up in dignity, not just for herself, but for the rights of many more of the downtrodden, establishing 5 orphanages in the process, and travelling to the US on invitation to raise funds. Sindhutai, or Mai as she is known, is a living legend, doing her work even today. Wonderful performances by the actors, the movie may be seen just for the underplayed performance of Tejaswini Pandit, who plays the protagonist in her youth, her real life mother, Jyoti Chandorkar playing the elderly Mai.

Went to a few book exihibitions exclusively for Marathi books. Found out that many of our favourite Tulika books are been published by Jyotsna Prakashan, a well known publishing house of Marathi children's books, at a fraction of the price, with full credits to Tulika's copyright.. Was thrilled on finding them. Picked up a lot of Marathi books for A and for myself. Now that she knows the Devanagari script, common to both Marathi and Hindi, A can read simple books on her own. Am really thrilled about it.

It goes without saying that both A and I read a lot of books including Harry Potter 6, which we will be finishing in a day or two. To be followed by book 7, so that we will be all set for the last movie due in mid-July.

Ate at a lot of interesting restaurants many times with family and friends, too many too enumerate. The high point was a small place where we ate home-style Malwani food. Yum!

Met a lot of my old friends after a loooooonnnngggg time.

Also met a new friend, Ugich Konitari, a wonderful blogger whose posts I love for the clear headed analysis of so many different things, done with a wry sense of humour. She has written a whole post here about our meeting. We met midway between our houses, and had lunch together at a mall where we even had icy cold gola for dessert. She was exactly as I had visualised her, and much more. It was lovely meeting you, Ugich.

Chilled out totally over our trip, and was back home with a few weeks to spare before school re-opened. Soon after we were back, A had her birthday party.

And we made mango pickle at home- A helped in lot in the process.

We also had a long awaited meet of Saffrontree members from Bangalore at Artnavy's lovely home.

Then there were the usual round of dentist, doctor, etc., shopping for school, and here we are. School has started!

More of my grandmother's songs.

What else do I remember of my grandmother's songs? As a response to Tulika books' Blogathon 4 I wrote a quickie post with a few songs that came to my mind immediately. It triggered off an avalanche of many such memorable songs from my childhood, and I would love to share those too. Mindful Meanderer reminded me of this one in her comments. Loosely translated, it speaks of the gold and silver jewellery worn by the baby and ends by putting a 'kala-tikka' on the baby to ward off the 'evil eye.'
Adgula madgula
Sonyacha kadbola
Rupyacha vala
Sonya bala
Teet lav

Sometimes when I got annoyed with my grandmother and went and sat in the corner- a self imposed timeout of sorts- she would sing
Rusu bai rusu
Annoyed little girl
Kopryat basu
Sitting in a corner
Tikdun ala___ (insert name of someone I liked)
Someone__ has come here
Khudkan hasu!
Suddenly you laugh!

Girls played a lot more with dolls in those days. OK, there was no Barbie (I'm talking about mid-70s to mid-80s. I suppose a childhood around that time makes me ancient. Never mind.) and no teddy bears to speak of. We had well-loved rag dolls, and would celebrate doll weddings if anyone among friends had a boy-doll. Hmmm...nostalgia. But I digress. Back to the topic at hand. This is a song we sang to our dolls. Now A, my daughter, has well-loved dolls, and this is one she loves.
Ya bai ya
Come O you girls
Bagha bagha kashi mazhi basali baya
See how my little one is sitting
Iku na yete
She cannot hear 
Bagha bagha kashi mazhi soni baghate
See how my lovely one looks at me.

All children are fascinated by the moon. We were too. My grandmother sang this one for us.
Chandoba chandoba bhagalas ka?
Moon, moon, are you tired?
Limbonichya zhadamage lapalas ka?
Why are you hiding behind the neem tree?
Limbonicha zhaad karavandi
The neem tree is heavy with fruit
Mamacha wada chirebandi
My mama's (maternal uncle) house is strong and big
Mamachya wadyat yeun ja
Come to my mama's house
Tooproti khaun ja
Eat ghee and roti
Toopat padli mashi
Oh! there is a fly in the ghee
Chandomama rahila upashi!
The moon has remained hungry!
This song was followed by a lot of gleeful clapping. Why we were amused by the moon remaining hungry is something my adult self does not understand.

The maternal uncle's home is associated with a lot of fun. Even while addressing the Mama, we say "Tu" which is different from the "Tumhi" used for the paternal uncle. Somehow the use of "Tu" is for someone who is emotionally closer. A song for going to the mama's house-
Zuk zuk zuk zuk ageen gaadi
Dhuranchya resha havet kadhi 
Palti zade pahuya
Mamachya gawala jauya
Mama motha talewar
Reshim gheyi hazar war
(something...something)
Mamachi bayako sugrana
Roj roj poli shikarana
Gulabjam khau ya
Mamachya gawala jauya
This song is about going to mama's house or "Ajol" as it is called in marathi. It sings the praises of the mama and of the mami's (aunt's) culinary skills. Shikarana poli is roti eaten with a mash of ripe banana with milk and sugar- a delicacy for a small child.

Then there were the songs we sang in the monsoon. Maharashtra is originally a region of farmers, and it is quite recently that it has become (in)famous for other things. This song invites the rains to come and promise it some money.(as bribe?) But the song tells us that the rain does not like the bribe and only comes down when the paisa is not a real one. The song is from those days when one paisa was a large amount. Juxtapose this with the "Rain rain go away", which is not from a primarily agrarian society.
Ye re Ye re pausa
Tula deto paisa
Paisa zala khota
Paus ala motha
Ye ga Ye ga sari
Mazhe madke bhari
Sar ali dhun
Madke gele vahun!

Then there was a game in which we ran amok- I forget the actual game- and sang
Dongrala aag lagli
Pala re pala
Something along the lines of 'Fire on the mountain.'

And the game we girls played along the lines of 'Oranges and lemons' And sang
Chincha limbu paishya paishyala
Shaletlya mooli alya kashala
Khaun khaun khokla zala
Mamachya wadyat chor shirla
And the 'chor' who was caught was out.

Then here is something all mumbaikars will recognise. It is something we say as the idols of Ganesha are immersed at the end of the festival.
Ganapati bappa morya
Pudhchya varshi lavakar ya
Ganapati challe gavala
Chain padena amhala

There are so many more I could go on and on. There were the prayers my grandmother taught me. We would come home in the evening at the time the lights would come on "Divelagani" in marathi. Then we would say the "Shubhang Karoti", "Ram-raksha" and other shlokas. These are too long and many to write about here. Maybe another post sometime. I try to teach A whatever I can. A lot of it has been eclipsed by other, more pressing things like homework and after-school classes, and so many other trappings of our current existence. I would like to thank Tulika books for triggering off this line of thought. And I would like to end the post with a favourite of my grandmother's, a verse by the celebrated marathi poetess who was born in 1880, Bahinabai Chaudhari who has written some very down-to-earth and heartfelt poetry.
Are Saunsaar saunsaar
Jasa Tawa Chulyhawar
Aadhi Hatala Chatake
Teva Milate Bhakar  

Loosely translated- The world is like a pan on the fire. Only if we can take the heat on our hand, can we get the bread-bhakar

My grandmother's songs

Tulika books keep challenging us bloggers with new topics to blog about. Blogathon 4 is here. Let me see what I can make of it.

When my brothers and I were growing up, my maternal grandmother lived with us. My parents both worked, and we came home usually to a grandmother who welcomed us with her yummy food. Most of my memories of TLC are to do with her.

Aaji (grandmother in Marathi) was a very intelligent and well-read woman, inspite of not having had much schooling. She had been married at a tender age of 13, a common thing to happen in pre-independence India. She educated herself by reading all that she could get her hands on, and was a treasure trove of stories and songs. My early introduction to mythology has much to do with her. She knew a lot of songs that were sung by women as they went about their daily chores. Many songs are to do with mundane, everyday things like food, playing and sleeping.

I do not remember all the songs she sang to us, but some have remained, and I, in my turn, have sung them to my daughter. Here is one we sing to a baby, just able to sit on your lap, hold it's head up, and recognise birds and animals. The singer points with her finger at the baby's open palm--

Ithe ithe bus re moraa
Sit here O peacock
Bal ghaltay chaaraa
Baby's giving you food
Chaara kha, paani pi
Eat the food, drink water
Shetala ja,
Go to the field,
Shenga kha,
Eat the beans/corn
Balachya dokyavarun bhoor udun ja.
Fly over the baby's head and fly far away.

Another one, for a game- the singer and the baby clap one hand over the other in rhythm.

Aapdi thapdi
Gulachi papdi
Dhammaka laadu
Tel kadhu
Telangicha ekach haath
Dhar ga bala mazach kaan
Chyau mau
Patrvalicha paani piu
Handa paani gud-d-d-uppp!

Can't really translate this word-for-word. This is a sort of nonsense verse where we talk about food like the laadu- or laddu in Hindi- and gulachi papdi which is a kind of roti stuffed with jaggery. The song ends with drinking water- paani- from the handa or water-vessel, and both mother and singer enjoy the ending sound of gudupp, which translated loosely means finished/dissappeared. A song depicting finishing a satisfying meal in a way.

This was a song for a game played by at least two girls. The participants clap and give sort of both-hand-high-fives intermittently in time with the rhythm. Being women's songs, most of them featured girls. This game is played at one of those all-women events when we have pooja in the month of 'Shravan', and married women are visiting their parents' homes. Underlying the festive mood of the song and game is an undercurrent of the realisation that they can be so carefree only because they are in their 'maaher' or mother's home. "Laad sangu baapala" literally means that we can tell only our parent about the things that we enjoy. Things are changing now, but this still applies across a large feminine population in India, even today.

Zim pori zim
Kapalache bhing
Bhing gele phutun
Pori gelya rusun
Chal chal govinda yeto
Majavari gulaal phekito
Ya ya gullaalachya ya
Amchya venya zalya lal
Amchya venya mokalya
Soniyachya sakhalya
Ghadav ghadav re sonara
Soniyachya bilwara
Bilwarala khidkya
Amhi donhi bahini laadakya
Laad sangu baapala
Koni sangu aamhala

And here is a lullaby she sang to put us to sleep. It is a song from a 50s marathi movie, "Bala gau kashi aangai". Nimbonichya zadamage.  Not being a good enough singer, I only ever sang lullabies to A when only the two of us were together.

Hanumanache (Hanuman's) Ramayan

We received our copy of "Hanuman's Ramayan" last week. Tulika books very generously sent me a copy in Marathi. It was won by me for (of all things!) counting right. The timing was such that I could ask the Tulika guys to inscribe them with a 'Happy Birthday' message to A. Which they were very kind enough to do, as well as address the envelope to her. We would have liked to sit down immediately with the book, but had a lot of other pressing matters at hand.  Now that they have been taken care of, here we are.

HANUMAN'S RAMAYAN

(or since we have a copy in Marathi, Hanumanache Ramayan)

Retold by Devdutt Pattnaik.

Pictures by Nancy Raj.

Translated into Marathi by Suniti Jain.

Ages: 8+

I told A that for this post she has to help me. She took it and sat a long time just looking through it. She was fascinated by the illustrations. "Aai, (mother in Marathi) this looks like the painting in our hall." She was right. The drawings were in Maithil/Madhubani style, a painting in which hung on our wall. So we had potential here.

A-speak on the drawings: "The pictures look very easy to draw. They are not drawn perfectly, like if there is an oval it is not a perfect oval but just looks like an oval. But they look very interesting and colourful, and somehow they look like 3-dimentional pictures. Like the Raavan's heads look just as if they are slightly one behind another. It looks as if some child has drawn all the lines inside the pictures."

She sat some more looking at the illustrations. I had read the text the day before, so I could point out the characters to her. "Aai, I think the people in the drawings have very interesting expressions. Narad looks like he is saying 'So what?' The rivers look very happy and Vayu looks very powerful. And the fire-god looks as if he is wondering what is happening."

On another page she said, "That river looks as if it is a conveyor belt. Just like at the airport? And the bird is picking up a fish from the conveyor belt. And how funny- both the sun and the moon are there. No, no. It is night here and day there. But how can it be like that on the same page?"  So I explained to her that there were footprints to be seen there, so the picture meant that Valmiki walked on his way all through the night and then through the day. Probably for many days before he reached the place where the banana trees were to be seen. 

On another page she liked the detailing where the "bird is looking surprised to see a drop of water fall from Valmiki's eyes. But why is he crying, Aai?" So I asked her to read the story.   

She sat down cross-legged, pencil in hand. Why a pencil, you may ask. That's what she does when faced with unfamiliar text. She approached the book in the way she tackles her Hindi/Kannada lessons. The earlier Tulika book that she had read, POND, was a breeze compared to this one. As she painstakingly read through it, she underlined the words she found difficult. The language was simple enough, and written in a way Marathi is spoken. Not stilted like in some other children's books I have encountered. But some words were very new to her. Marathi also has very hard consonants, and at places where the word involved a few 'jodaksharas' or conjoined consonants, she found it difficult to get her tongue around them. Or rather she found it difficult to pronounce from what she was reading. When I pronounced the word for her, she could repeat it easily enough. After a while, she started reading with more ease, although it did take her a good part of an hour to finish the book. Interspersed with finding the meanings of the 'difficult words' and discussing some sentences which she did not easily understand.
 
Some of these words she had already encountered in Hindi at school, so those were easy. At some places, like when we read "parjanyadev Indra," I could make use of some of the mythological stories she already knows-in this case the story of "govardhangiridhari Krishna" who helped the people of Gokul against the wrath of the god of rain Indra- to understand the reference.
 
As we read, even she was startled along with Valmiki when Hanuman ate up the leaves on which he had written his Ramayan. When we came to the last page, and she read it, I reminded her that I had once told her that the Ramayan is a mythological story supposedly written by Valmiki, a rishi, and that it probably is the memory of a similar story which might have actually happened in history. The story was in an oral form earlier, which was written down at some point of history. And when a story is told orally over many generations, it may be added to by the different storytellers, and might change from the original version, just like what happens in a game of chinese whispers. And different people might tell the same story in different ways, just like her father and I might tell the same bedtime story in different words. And many versions may be lost to us, just as Hanuman's version was lost when he ate up those leaves.
 
We enjoyed reading this book together. Thank you, Tulika books, for sending me a Marathi copy. As I have said in my post about my first language, some words defy translation, and I was glad to be able to read them to her in my mother-tongue.  

  

POND /TALE

The promised book by Tulika is finally here! A and I had a day out today, posting our letters for the international postcard swap,  and we came back around 4 in the afternoon. As I had been doing for the past few days, I asked the security personnel if there had been a courier for me. Negative. Oh, well! So we walked towards our building and A very half-heartedly checked our mailbox. The look on her face changed rapidly to delight and she pulled out the package with Tulika books written on it with the air of a conjurer producing a rabbit. No wonder security had said that there had been no courier, as the package had been sent through our good old postal services.

I had been reading the posts of all the bloggers who participated  in Tulika's blogathon 1, and who were to receive review copies of new books just for participating. I waited first patiently, then impatiently for my copy. Actually, the impatience was more on the part of my daughter A, who checked the mailbox downstairs everyday, and would come home crestfallen. Goading me to pester the guys at Tulika books for the whereabouts of my book. Sorry guys! And thanks for the book.

POND / TALE. Created by Anisha Thampy as part of her internship while studying at NID, Ahmedabad. Translated into Marathi by Snehalata Datar.
Ages: 3+

Image: Courtesy Tulika books. This image shows the Hindi version of the book, not the Marathi version which I have reviewed here. Tulika books needs to upload one for me to get a picture. (Don't carry a camera phone!)

When children begin to learn to read a new language, they are usually introduced to books which have lists of words, accompanied by pictures. These lists of words usually follow a pattern. They are either words starting with the consecutive alphabets in their alphabetical order. eg. A for Apple, B for Ball, C for Cat, etc. Or, like in the Indo-European group of languages, we have words and the corresponding pictures with different consonants, but the same vowel in each list. Like "Rama, Mama, Kaka," etc. Here, these are descrete wordlists and serve no purpose other than introducing the child to different words and different sounds. What happens if we decide to take another approach in which we have a similar book of familiar pictures with familiar sounding, simple everyday words, but which can be associated with each other consecutively to tell a story? We get a book like POND, where even the child can tell you the story in his own words once it figures out what squiggle means which word. Dr. Seuss, anyone?

So to cut a long story short, we promptly got a pair of scissors, cut open the packet, extracted the book, and (excitedly because here was her chance to try her hand at reading Marathi, our native language,) A read out the story to me. Imagine words. Wonderful!