Here's news for all my readers: My book FLUTE IN THE fOREST will be out in December 2010. Do look out for it in the bookshops.
Its a story for YA, 12 upwards, and tells a moving tale of a lonely girl who makes friends with an old man who plays the flute in his forest cottage, and her relationship with him, his daughter, a bad tempered elephant and a teenage boy.
Its the perfect story for a summer or winter vacation or on a trip to a Sanctuary or national Park in India.
Happy reading.
More on this post later.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
THE KITEMAKERS DREAM
Fiction for children 10 - 12 plus.
The story revolves around two boys, very similar in looks, but from very different backgrounds. Muziya is the youngest grandson of Khan Bir Khan, a seventyfour year old simple kitemaker of Wartungawadi.
Khan has a secret dream: The day Muziya does well in school, and succeeds in life, he'll give up his booth and spend the rest of his days making and flying his kites from the peak he has dubbed Mera Everest when he himself was a boy of nineteen in 1953, the year Hillary and Tensing conquered the Everest. To him, the peak stands for the achievement of ones goals.
Vir is Mr.Heerats son, the CEO of CyberAce, a large IT company right opposite Khans tiny booth. Vir and Muziya meet on Saturdays to fly Khan's kites and they enjoy each others company. Vir is unfortunately kidnapped by two evil characters, and Heerat and Khan, though they despise each other, are now thrown albeit unwillingly into each others arms. As the Heerats grow fond of Muziya, who turns out helpful and sincere, Vir, locked up in a disused old building, misses the comfort of his own home and strict but loving parents, and his Granny.
A week of rising tensions , phone calls between police and parents, ends with one day left to reach the deadline, ..."or else..."
Muziya runs away from home and locates Virs prison cell, frees him and takes his place, to make up for the guilt of having got Vir into trouble in the first place.
In the nick of time, both boys are rescued and the kidnappers caught red handed.
Finally, Heerat makes amends by offering to pay for Muziya's entire education, and help him to take up a successful career.
Khan takes the Heerats and his own family up to the same hill to fly kites and celebrate the beginning of a better life for his grandson Muziya.
CyberAce celebrates Kite Day every year after that, to encourage all their employees to take time off to " smell the roses".....
The story revolves around two boys, very similar in looks, but from very different backgrounds. Muziya is the youngest grandson of Khan Bir Khan, a seventyfour year old simple kitemaker of Wartungawadi.
Khan has a secret dream: The day Muziya does well in school, and succeeds in life, he'll give up his booth and spend the rest of his days making and flying his kites from the peak he has dubbed Mera Everest when he himself was a boy of nineteen in 1953, the year Hillary and Tensing conquered the Everest. To him, the peak stands for the achievement of ones goals.
Vir is Mr.Heerats son, the CEO of CyberAce, a large IT company right opposite Khans tiny booth. Vir and Muziya meet on Saturdays to fly Khan's kites and they enjoy each others company. Vir is unfortunately kidnapped by two evil characters, and Heerat and Khan, though they despise each other, are now thrown albeit unwillingly into each others arms. As the Heerats grow fond of Muziya, who turns out helpful and sincere, Vir, locked up in a disused old building, misses the comfort of his own home and strict but loving parents, and his Granny.
A week of rising tensions , phone calls between police and parents, ends with one day left to reach the deadline, ..."or else..."
Muziya runs away from home and locates Virs prison cell, frees him and takes his place, to make up for the guilt of having got Vir into trouble in the first place.
In the nick of time, both boys are rescued and the kidnappers caught red handed.
Finally, Heerat makes amends by offering to pay for Muziya's entire education, and help him to take up a successful career.
Khan takes the Heerats and his own family up to the same hill to fly kites and celebrate the beginning of a better life for his grandson Muziya.
CyberAce celebrates Kite Day every year after that, to encourage all their employees to take time off to " smell the roses".....
Friday, August 17, 2007
COLOUR HORROR - an environment story for children 6 - 10 years
The Ganpati festival was on. All the pandals visited by Shantanu, Vir and Tinku were fabulous!
"What colour! Lights! Music!" the boys chanted appreciatively.
They had worked together to produce a pandal too. Their Ganpati was made of papier mache, painted with natural dyes. Ganpati's lungi was simple cotton. They had dyed it with turmeric! His maroon turban Shantanu had dyed in simple beetroot juice! Only ecofriendly materials had been used to make their decorations......
"What colour! Lights! Music!" the boys chanted appreciatively.
They had worked together to produce a pandal too. Their Ganpati was made of papier mache, painted with natural dyes. Ganpati's lungi was simple cotton. They had dyed it with turmeric! His maroon turban Shantanu had dyed in simple beetroot juice! Only ecofriendly materials had been used to make their decorations......
and tonight the VIPs were going to choose the 1st Prize winner.
Of course, the boys hoped it would be theirs!
The biggest pandal was at the Main Bazaar corner. Decorated in bright colours, mythological characters surrounded the LARGEST Ganpati they had ever seen!
A semi-circular pandal stood at the car park. This one was in all shades of yellow. Very artistic and original.
A third one was in front of the town hall.
"Oof!" Vir said. "I think that one will get the prize!"
The boys noted that all the Ganpati idols had been made of plaster of paris, and painted in acrylic. Their crowns, belts, and jewellery were made of plastic, painted gold.
Shantanu shook his untidy head sadly. "I dont think our pandal will win," he said. "Its too simple.....!"
The time just flew by, and suddenly it was 4 pm, and the first VIPs arrived.
The boys had scrubbed themselves clean till they shone like the statues!
"Arey wah!" grinned Tinku's Dad. "Wish you had a bath like that everyday!"
The Chief Guest was a quiet , soft spoken man who was Minister for Environment. He had a lo-o-ong white beard, sharp twinkling eyes, and wore a kurta pyjama. No gold rings, the boys noted!
And they liked his friendly smile.
Tension, tension......everyone was tense. But not "Mr. Environment!"
He began by telling his listeners that the club groups had all taken so much trouble to make their pandals so beautiful. He told them he was impressed with the bonding it had achieved for the people, especially amongst the kids and different communities. He praised the lights, colour and music.
Then he stood silent and looked long and sharp at everyone waiting with bated breath for his announcement of the 1st Prize.
He turned to each pandal committee in turn, and asked what plans they had for immersion.
Unanimously, they replied: "In the river!"
One small group of voices - Shantanu's club group - was quiet.
"We have a large water tank!" they said suddenly in unison. "We will put Ganpati in that. Colours are harmful in the rivers, other people will be poisoned with these things, too"
"Even fish will die," added Vir, solemnly.
The crowd began to laugh.
But Mr. Environment looked down at the three boys and did not laugh at all. He called them to the dias, and patted them gently on their heads.
"The spirit of Ganpati is truly in these kids," he told his audience. "We can ask for Ganpati's protection and blessings only if we take care of Him and Nature too."
He took a deep breath. "So," he said in an important sounding tone, "First Prize goes to............this one here!" and he pointed at the boys pandal.
Shantanu's gang screeched with delight!
I think I heard Ganpati chuckling too!
Right now the boys are distributing pedhas.....
What an achievement!
The biggest pandal was at the Main Bazaar corner. Decorated in bright colours, mythological characters surrounded the LARGEST Ganpati they had ever seen!
A semi-circular pandal stood at the car park. This one was in all shades of yellow. Very artistic and original.
A third one was in front of the town hall.
"Oof!" Vir said. "I think that one will get the prize!"
The boys noted that all the Ganpati idols had been made of plaster of paris, and painted in acrylic. Their crowns, belts, and jewellery were made of plastic, painted gold.
Shantanu shook his untidy head sadly. "I dont think our pandal will win," he said. "Its too simple.....!"
The time just flew by, and suddenly it was 4 pm, and the first VIPs arrived.
The boys had scrubbed themselves clean till they shone like the statues!
"Arey wah!" grinned Tinku's Dad. "Wish you had a bath like that everyday!"
The Chief Guest was a quiet , soft spoken man who was Minister for Environment. He had a lo-o-ong white beard, sharp twinkling eyes, and wore a kurta pyjama. No gold rings, the boys noted!
And they liked his friendly smile.
Tension, tension......everyone was tense. But not "Mr. Environment!"
He began by telling his listeners that the club groups had all taken so much trouble to make their pandals so beautiful. He told them he was impressed with the bonding it had achieved for the people, especially amongst the kids and different communities. He praised the lights, colour and music.
Then he stood silent and looked long and sharp at everyone waiting with bated breath for his announcement of the 1st Prize.
He turned to each pandal committee in turn, and asked what plans they had for immersion.
Unanimously, they replied: "In the river!"
One small group of voices - Shantanu's club group - was quiet.
"We have a large water tank!" they said suddenly in unison. "We will put Ganpati in that. Colours are harmful in the rivers, other people will be poisoned with these things, too"
"Even fish will die," added Vir, solemnly.
The crowd began to laugh.
But Mr. Environment looked down at the three boys and did not laugh at all. He called them to the dias, and patted them gently on their heads.
"The spirit of Ganpati is truly in these kids," he told his audience. "We can ask for Ganpati's protection and blessings only if we take care of Him and Nature too."
He took a deep breath. "So," he said in an important sounding tone, "First Prize goes to............this one here!" and he pointed at the boys pandal.
Shantanu's gang screeched with delight!
I think I heard Ganpati chuckling too!
Right now the boys are distributing pedhas.....
What an achievement!
* Illustration by Aranya Pathak Broome, 8 yrs.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
HOWL OF THE HOOLOCK - an Environmental story for 7 - 10 year olds
Year.....
2021
Place......A remote jungle in northeast India
Time......April dawn
High in the thick canopy of the jungle, Raj and his Uncle Dhalni watched a group of apes munching on wild fruit. The creatures swung from branch to branch, leader on the watch, alert. What a fascinating holiday this was turning out to be! His school buddies would have been envious!
Uncle Dhalni was a wildlife researcher. He was in the northeast on a project to study India's only ape, the Hoolock Gibbon, and the effect of climate change on their habitat and future. Uncle needed someone to help with the documentation process. Raj was fluent with laptop use, so........
There they sat, watching as the family - father, mother and two young ones - fed in the canopy. They had followed the primates up to the hilltop, and listened to them howl. The jungle echoed with their calls!
As they moved, they picked berries off the branches, a spider or two, some leaves...
Chomp....howl...jump, swing....howl....
Raj videotaped quietly. By midday the family had reached the hilltop. Raj and Uncle Dhalni returned to the base for lunch.
As they ate hungrily, Raj listened to Uncle Dhalni describe the life of the Gibbons.
"Gibbons wake up early in the valleys. They live in small family groups of up to six in all. At daybreak, one will howl, then another and so on, till all the Gibbons are 'reporting' to each other, and the days routine begins," Uncle said.
Raj laughed. "What loud howls!" he chuckled.
"By noon," said Uncle, "they quieten and rest till evening. The howls build up again, till dusk. Then they return to their nightly roost in the valley."
"I notice," Raj said, "that they use the same path from branch to branch each day!"
Dhalni noted that Raj was already showing signs of becoming a true researcher, with his patient observance. "Yup!" he said. "Good work! Thats exactly what they do, and that is where climate change is affecting them."
"As the monsoons decrease with each passing year," Uncle said," its becoming way too hot in the northeast. The trees are used to more moisture, along with the insects, birds and plants that also require a more humid, moist atmosphere. Now they're dying out. That means fewer berries. Tree leaves fall earlier than normal too. We are worried about the future of India's only ape!"
Raj nodded. With less to eat, Hoolock Gibbons might become extinct in a decade or two! What a rotten thought! He had to do something!
In June, Raj went to class IX. He and his friends formed a Hoolock Gibbons Aid Fund. They held a huge rally to save India's ape from extinction. A lareg sum was collected. Researchers used the sum to carry on research in the northeast. A wildlife centre there successfully multiplied two Hoolock Gibbon families! Once able to feed themselves, they were let free in the wild again.
Raj and his friends hope they will do well. They sure proved that working together can make wonders happen, didnt they?
Place......A remote jungle in northeast India
Time......April dawn
High in the thick canopy of the jungle, Raj and his Uncle Dhalni watched a group of apes munching on wild fruit. The creatures swung from branch to branch, leader on the watch, alert. What a fascinating holiday this was turning out to be! His school buddies would have been envious!
Uncle Dhalni was a wildlife researcher. He was in the northeast on a project to study India's only ape, the Hoolock Gibbon, and the effect of climate change on their habitat and future. Uncle needed someone to help with the documentation process. Raj was fluent with laptop use, so........
There they sat, watching as the family - father, mother and two young ones - fed in the canopy. They had followed the primates up to the hilltop, and listened to them howl. The jungle echoed with their calls!
As they moved, they picked berries off the branches, a spider or two, some leaves...
Chomp....howl...jump, swing....howl....
Raj videotaped quietly. By midday the family had reached the hilltop. Raj and Uncle Dhalni returned to the base for lunch.
As they ate hungrily, Raj listened to Uncle Dhalni describe the life of the Gibbons.
"Gibbons wake up early in the valleys. They live in small family groups of up to six in all. At daybreak, one will howl, then another and so on, till all the Gibbons are 'reporting' to each other, and the days routine begins," Uncle said.
Raj laughed. "What loud howls!" he chuckled.
"By noon," said Uncle, "they quieten and rest till evening. The howls build up again, till dusk. Then they return to their nightly roost in the valley."
"I notice," Raj said, "that they use the same path from branch to branch each day!"
Dhalni noted that Raj was already showing signs of becoming a true researcher, with his patient observance. "Yup!" he said. "Good work! Thats exactly what they do, and that is where climate change is affecting them."
"As the monsoons decrease with each passing year," Uncle said," its becoming way too hot in the northeast. The trees are used to more moisture, along with the insects, birds and plants that also require a more humid, moist atmosphere. Now they're dying out. That means fewer berries. Tree leaves fall earlier than normal too. We are worried about the future of India's only ape!"
Raj nodded. With less to eat, Hoolock Gibbons might become extinct in a decade or two! What a rotten thought! He had to do something!
In June, Raj went to class IX. He and his friends formed a Hoolock Gibbons Aid Fund. They held a huge rally to save India's ape from extinction. A lareg sum was collected. Researchers used the sum to carry on research in the northeast. A wildlife centre there successfully multiplied two Hoolock Gibbon families! Once able to feed themselves, they were let free in the wild again.
Raj and his friends hope they will do well. They sure proved that working together can make wonders happen, didnt they?
* Illustration - Leela Gour Broome
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
LEAF FEEL ....an Environment story for 7 - 10 year olds.
Farah and her friends often played in the park. They were particularly fond of an old banyan tree. Its long hanging aerial roots made super swings and reminded them of Tarzan's jungle tree home and the old, wild climbers called liana.
They named the tree Banyano. It had a thick, gnarled, solid trunk, and seemed even to have a grandparent sort of personality!
One day the children came earlier than usual for their games. They noticed a young girl sitting at the base of Banyano. She had dark glasses, and a white stick. As the children approached, the girl - she was Usha - gathered up her things. They noticed she was blind.
Farah jumped forward to help. They bumped into each other and laughed. Soon all the children became friends.
"Lets play a game," Farah said.
"Hide and seek," Ira suggested without thinking.
"Oops!" Ranjan said, pointing silently at Usha who smiled at their awkwardness.
"I'll play too!" she said eagerly.
Joel was the Den.
In seconds most of the kids had hidden themselves behind trees and in the shrubbery. Farah noticed that Usha managed fine, inspite of her handicap. She watched as the blind girl, with amazing confidence, felt her way to a great hiding place with her hands and her cane.
What's more, they couldnt find her till the end of the round!
When the game was done, the children gathered round Usha and wanted to know all about her. Where did she study? How did she go to school? Could she read Braille?
Banyano, the old Banyan tree seemed to enjoy this conversation, and wrapped his long leafy branches around the children.
Next evening, the gang met Usha under the tree again.
"Lets play my favourite game today!" she said.
She made them all find a partner. "Blindfold your partner," she said to one of each pair. Holding the blind partner's hand, each pair had to find a big tree.
"FEEL your tree," she now said to all the children. "Check out the bark....are there any crinkles? Any scars. any branches?....Leaves? What do they feel like...?"
The children concentrated on what she was saying. Ten minutes later, she called all the pairs back to Banyano, and asked them to undo their blindfolds.
"Can you find your tree now?" she asked the blindfolded players.
Not many could! You see, the blind can "see" with their fingertips. We have to learn to "see" with ours!
"I never noticed how different the tree barks are," said Joel.
"Yup," said another child. "Powdery, paper thin, ever so hard, or with a sticky gooey resin...."
The park manager happened to pass by at that moment. He stopped and overheard their remarks, and guess what?!
He asked if they would like to paint new name boards for all the major park trees, so that children like them could find out more about those trees.
And thats EXACTLY what they did that summer holiday! Now the park is famous in town, and just about everyone knows about Banyano and all those old trees.
In fact, if you walk past Banyano, you may even hear a chuckle.....or is it the wind?!
They named the tree Banyano. It had a thick, gnarled, solid trunk, and seemed even to have a grandparent sort of personality!
One day the children came earlier than usual for their games. They noticed a young girl sitting at the base of Banyano. She had dark glasses, and a white stick. As the children approached, the girl - she was Usha - gathered up her things. They noticed she was blind.
Farah jumped forward to help. They bumped into each other and laughed. Soon all the children became friends.
"Lets play a game," Farah said.
"Hide and seek," Ira suggested without thinking.
"Oops!" Ranjan said, pointing silently at Usha who smiled at their awkwardness.
"I'll play too!" she said eagerly.
Joel was the Den.
In seconds most of the kids had hidden themselves behind trees and in the shrubbery. Farah noticed that Usha managed fine, inspite of her handicap. She watched as the blind girl, with amazing confidence, felt her way to a great hiding place with her hands and her cane.
What's more, they couldnt find her till the end of the round!
When the game was done, the children gathered round Usha and wanted to know all about her. Where did she study? How did she go to school? Could she read Braille?
Banyano, the old Banyan tree seemed to enjoy this conversation, and wrapped his long leafy branches around the children.
Next evening, the gang met Usha under the tree again.
"Lets play my favourite game today!" she said.
She made them all find a partner. "Blindfold your partner," she said to one of each pair. Holding the blind partner's hand, each pair had to find a big tree.
"FEEL your tree," she now said to all the children. "Check out the bark....are there any crinkles? Any scars. any branches?....Leaves? What do they feel like...?"
The children concentrated on what she was saying. Ten minutes later, she called all the pairs back to Banyano, and asked them to undo their blindfolds.
"Can you find your tree now?" she asked the blindfolded players.
Not many could! You see, the blind can "see" with their fingertips. We have to learn to "see" with ours!
"I never noticed how different the tree barks are," said Joel.
"Yup," said another child. "Powdery, paper thin, ever so hard, or with a sticky gooey resin...."
The park manager happened to pass by at that moment. He stopped and overheard their remarks, and guess what?!
He asked if they would like to paint new name boards for all the major park trees, so that children like them could find out more about those trees.
And thats EXACTLY what they did that summer holiday! Now the park is famous in town, and just about everyone knows about Banyano and all those old trees.
In fact, if you walk past Banyano, you may even hear a chuckle.....or is it the wind?!
* Illustration : Leela Gour Broome
HILL CHILLS - an Environment story for 7 - 10 year olds
Siya and Dhruv explored the Manali hillside. The air was clear and clean.
"Our city is so polluted!" moaned Dhruv.
They puffed their way up the steep slope, saw a large rock at the top, and sat down.
"Look at that ugly hillside," said Siya, pointing at the hill slope opposite, covered in red mud. Not6 a tree or a blade of grass. Remnants of slate roofed hovels were visible at the bottom of the slope.
A lone figure climbed slowly up towards them.
They noticed her weather beaten face....an old woman, with large earrings, swaying wildly.
"Namaste" she greeted them. "Where're you from?"
They told her. "And you?" the children asked her.
"That little house down there," she said, pointing to a dot in the valley. She described her home and family. She told them she climbed the hill each day to cut fodder for the cow. The children wondered how she managed that - she was atleast sixtyfive years old!
"This hill is gold for me," she told them cheerily."I get all that I need from here....grass, twigs for fuel, young fern heads for us to eat, once a week, wild flowers for puja, fresh water from the spring."
The children gave her an apple, chatting as she ate it. She told them the year before a businessman had come from the city. "He bought the entire slope," she said, pointing at the muddy hill opposite. "They cleared the hillside of all its trees and planned to start a ski resort."
"We hill people watched them and told each other "tch, tch, tch, they will have trouble, these people from the plains. They do not understand the ways of the hills....."
"Ah, they had great plans. The workers said visitors would come, there would be jobs for all... ..but the old people from our village watched and said, "What will happen in the rains...?"
The old woman shook her head, her earrinhgs dangling.
"Hill people do not meddle with Nature's ways," she told them. "A ski slope has tobe very smooth. Soon the hotel on the hilltop was ready. The first winter was perfect....." The woman looked morose.
"Last week we had five days of heavy rain. On the fifth night, we were all asleep when we heard this horrible rumble...oh! it was scary....then, so-o-o- quiet. We rushed out and looked across the valley....no lights, no voices...no people...The hillside just simply got washed away down that mud slope onto the houses in the valley. It covered everyone's home....Pukar Singh, his wife and child, my brother's entire family, even the cows and the horse...no one was left alive. It was very sad...." she said under her breath. A glint of tears, then she picked up her basket and sickle.
They said goodbye, and headed down the hill towards their parents rented cottage.
"I think we 'educated' people know so little compared to those who live with Nature," said Siya.
Dhruv nodded.
"Perhaps we need to make rules about leaving Nature's places alone," he said with a new understanding in his eyes.
* Illustration - Leela Gour Broome
"Our city is so polluted!" moaned Dhruv.
They puffed their way up the steep slope, saw a large rock at the top, and sat down.
"Look at that ugly hillside," said Siya, pointing at the hill slope opposite, covered in red mud. Not6 a tree or a blade of grass. Remnants of slate roofed hovels were visible at the bottom of the slope.
A lone figure climbed slowly up towards them.
They noticed her weather beaten face....an old woman, with large earrings, swaying wildly.
"Namaste" she greeted them. "Where're you from?"
They told her. "And you?" the children asked her.
"That little house down there," she said, pointing to a dot in the valley. She described her home and family. She told them she climbed the hill each day to cut fodder for the cow. The children wondered how she managed that - she was atleast sixtyfive years old!
"This hill is gold for me," she told them cheerily."I get all that I need from here....grass, twigs for fuel, young fern heads for us to eat, once a week, wild flowers for puja, fresh water from the spring."
The children gave her an apple, chatting as she ate it. She told them the year before a businessman had come from the city. "He bought the entire slope," she said, pointing at the muddy hill opposite. "They cleared the hillside of all its trees and planned to start a ski resort."
"We hill people watched them and told each other "tch, tch, tch, they will have trouble, these people from the plains. They do not understand the ways of the hills....."
"Ah, they had great plans. The workers said visitors would come, there would be jobs for all... ..but the old people from our village watched and said, "What will happen in the rains...?"
The old woman shook her head, her earrinhgs dangling.
"Hill people do not meddle with Nature's ways," she told them. "A ski slope has tobe very smooth. Soon the hotel on the hilltop was ready. The first winter was perfect....." The woman looked morose.
"Last week we had five days of heavy rain. On the fifth night, we were all asleep when we heard this horrible rumble...oh! it was scary....then, so-o-o- quiet. We rushed out and looked across the valley....no lights, no voices...no people...The hillside just simply got washed away down that mud slope onto the houses in the valley. It covered everyone's home....Pukar Singh, his wife and child, my brother's entire family, even the cows and the horse...no one was left alive. It was very sad...." she said under her breath. A glint of tears, then she picked up her basket and sickle.
They said goodbye, and headed down the hill towards their parents rented cottage.
"I think we 'educated' people know so little compared to those who live with Nature," said Siya.
Dhruv nodded.
"Perhaps we need to make rules about leaving Nature's places alone," he said with a new understanding in his eyes.
* Illustration - Leela Gour Broome
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