One of the contributing authors to our current Book of the Month, Water Stories from Around the World (Tulika, 2010), Deepa Balsavar has both written and illustrated many children’s books, including The Seed, selected for the 2007 White Raven’s Catalogue. She has also worked with the Avehi-Abacus Project for the past twenty years, as well as on UNICEF sponsored projects, developing teaching resources for mathematics and literacy.

My Water Story by Deepa Balsavar

I come from a family of readers and nature lovers. As a child, I remember my father bringing me large, colorful books on pet animals and wildlife and natural history. I devoured those books and became the heroine of countless adventures as I traversed the continents sometimes as a veterinary surgeon and at other times as an intrepid explorer.

The true joy, however, was going back far in time. And as I pored over my “Life on Earth”, an animated flip book would form in my mind. In super fast motion I would see our earth as a big ball of gas wobbling in space. Then the gas would cool and the surface of the planet would be covered by a thin layer, like cream on the surface of hot milk. And like cream, this layer would break and re-form as bubbling lava welled up and split the surface. Meteors would come crashing down kaboom! and splashes of hot red would soar into the air. Thunder and lightning would add their own music and then… And then it would rain and rain and rain. At this point the flip book in my head would slow down and become almost still. All other activity would become muted as the sounds in my mind merged with the monsoon happening outside my window. And my stilled mind would see the earth wait, expectantly, for the seas to fill and for the first chemical reactions to herald the beginning of life on Earth.

Everyone knows that water brings life and sustains it. In India the pouring of water forms part of most rituals and rites of passage. Rivers are propitiated and it is believed by Hindus that bathing in the Ganges washes away the sins of a lifetime. In homes, guests are offered a glass of water before anything else. This is not only an acknowledgment of the hot and dusty road outside but also a gesture of friendship. But water has also been at the heart of much cruelty…

Read the whole of Deepa’s article here.

Today we welcome Anthony Garcia, a writer for the Online Graduate Programs website, with a thought-provoking article about why it is so important to ensure children have access to a diverse array of multicultural/cross-cultural books.

Anthony recently completed his graduate education in English Literature. A New Mexico native, he currently resides and writes in Seattle, Washington. He writes primarily about education, travel, literature, and American culture.

Educating people through literacy can last a lifetime, because it allows for empowerment. If someone can read information, they can continue to learn and educate themselves for a lifetime.

Have you ever run across someone who was woefully ignorant of diversity? It is a shame that so many people cannot appreciate the value of other cultures and be interested in the different ways social groups all over the world operate.  Perhaps these people would have been more interested in learning about and appreciating different cultures if they were more literate and could assess information accordingly.

Not all of us can attend graduate programs or are even exposed to reading as children. However, it is the responsibility of educated people to share the gift of education, empowering others to learn.

One of the best ways to help others through literacy is to begin sharing books in childhood. It can be difficult to expose children to new viewpoints, especially in areas where there are not significant minority populations. However, using books is a good start to combating ignorance. If children are exposed to other viewpoints, it raises levels of literacy, but also helps them to see similarity, rather than focus on the issues which divide as adults.

Parents and educators are aware that children need to read and to be read to, and should try to pick up books that focus on other cultures, nations and groups. Books about other countries are easy to find in any local library, and children will enjoy seeing pictures of children all over the world who, in some cases, are actually quite similar to them. Children can also learn about the foods that other cultures enjoy and perhaps prepare some of them as part of a class project. Another option is to have students read about the various holidays that are celebrated all over the world and enjoy a class party!

Besides books that just discuss the facts and figures about different countries, if can be fun to explore the folklore of various groups. Most civilizations have legends and fables describing how the world began and the origins of evil. It is interesting to compare all accounts and see how they are similar and different. Educating others through literacy should involve discussion for the most impactful education possible.

Reading culturally diverse books to children is important because (more…)

Monica Brown‘s picture book Waiting for the Biblioburro has been receiving rave reviews since it was released this past August.  What inspired Monica to write a book about Columbian literacy advocate Luis Soriano and his donkey library? Here she shares “the story behind the story”:

I love librarians. Like me, (and I’ll bet you too if you are reading this), librarians are book people. Book people find joy between the pages of a book, but their passion doesn’t stop there. True book people must share books with others. They believe that placing books in young hands and sharing stories with young minds is meaningful. Luis Soriano is a book person. Luis first came to my attention when I read the New York Times article, “Acclaimed Colombian Institution has 4,800 books and 10 legs” by Simon Romero. Fascinated, I did some research and came across Valentina Canavesio’s short film Biblioburro—The Donkey Library. The story filled me with joy and not a little pride in the resourcefulness and passion of the Latino culture that Luis and I share. Growing up, Luis Soriano did not have the benefit of extensive formal studies and unlimited financial resources. What he did have was vision—and two donkeys named Alfa and Beto. For years, Maestro Soriano has delivered books in rural Colombia to children who don’t have access to libraries. Some don’t even have teachers or schools. But Luis, who received his school degree at 16, and then became a teacher and librarian, has made it his life’s work to change that.

When I wrote Waiting for the Biblioburro, I didn’t want to presume to tell Luis’s story for him, so I created a fictional story inspired by his, from the perspective of a little girl whose life he changes. I contacted Mr. Romero, the writer, and Ms Canavesio, the filmmaker, and through them, reached Luis himself. I knew as I was writing this book that I wanted Luis’s blessing–I was lucky enough to get it, and to get to know Luis over the phone and through emails. I also wanted to make sure that his foundation shared in the profits from this work, which my publisher made happen. When I first spoke to Luis over the phone and across thousands of miles, I was felt that I was in the presence of greatness—he is great man with a great heart. Luis shared with me his wish to sow the seeds of creativity and to cultivate dreams in the minds of children.

After talking with Luis, I felt inspired to write an imaginative rendering of Luis’s legacy—a legacy not only of literacy, but of sharing one’s own stories with the world. My story is about a creative little girl named Ana who loves books and reading, but who doesn’t have access to a library, books, or even a teacher. It’s her story of waiting, discovery, and finding a voice. I hope that Ana’s story, like Luis Soriano’s vision, will inspire us all to be literacy workers and activist librarians, teachers, parents, and friends. What would you do to bring books to children? Would you ride a donkey for miles, risking attack and robbery? Would you build a library with your own hands? Luis Soriano did. And we can too.

Watch the book trailer for Waiting for the Biblioburro here.

Monica Brown
July 7, 2011

A portion of the sale proceeds from Waiting for the Biblioburro will go to support Luis Soriano’s BiblioBurro Foundation.

To learn more about mobile libraries around the world read PaperTigers’ Featured Personal View  by Abigail Sawyer entitled “On Traveling Libraries and Heroic ‘Book People’: Inspiring children’s books about getting books to people in remote places and difficult circumstances” .

Aline Pereira is an independent writer, editor and media consultant specializing in multicultural children’s books, and until January this year, she was Managing Editor of PaperTigers, a post she had held since 2004. So we are very happy to welcome her back with a Personal View she wrote following her attendance of the Asian Festival of Asian Content in Singapore in May.

Aline had a special part to play in the Festival as she was one of the judges for the inaugural Scholastic Asian Book Award, along with “Chief Judge Nury Vittachi, journalist and Hong Kong’s best-selling English language author; Anushka Ravishankar, award-winning children’s poet and author (India); John McKenzie, principal lecturer at the School of Literacies and Arts in Education at the University of Canterbury (New Zealand); and literary agent Kelly Sonnack (Kelly grew up in Singapore), from the Andrea Brown Literary Agency (US).”

In her article, Aline shares with us her impressions of the Festival as a whole, and gives us a peek behind the scenes of the award. You can read the whole article here - and here are a couple of extracts to whet your appetite.

The big picture

A consistent thread seemed to run through a good number of the panels and sessions, as well as through informal conversations: “There are plenty of valid ways to produce and deliver a book”. This naturally led to discussions about the enormous changes the publishing world has gone through in the last decade or so, and all the things that have played a part in these changes. And to think that there was a time, not long ago, when people believed the Internet was a passing fad… Now one can only ignore the internet, social media and digital platforms at one’s peril. Without a doubt, these new technologies have affected the way children’s books are acquired, published and marketed, but one of the many things I came away with from those sessions and conversations was that having these new tools, platforms and processes is simply a means, not the end goal. Without losing sight of readers’ needs, the end goal continues to be finding ways to foster the creation, reception, and dissemination of a diverse children’s literature in all genres, mediums and platforms. When it comes to bringing children and books together, it should never be an either/or scenario, but a “the more, the better” one. After all, why get territorial and deaf to voices (platforms, devices) that are not our own? With regards to Asian content, AFCC was a call to join forces in that effort.

One of my favorite sessions was presented by US publisher Neal Porter (Neal Porter Books/Roaring Brook Press) on which types of books travel well to other countries, which don’t, and why. He calls himself (more…)

Bonita Sauder is author of the young adult novel Year of the Golden Dragon (Coteau Books, 2010). Last year, while living in Bangkok, she attended the Asian Festival of Children’s Content in Singapore; she loved it so much that, even though she had moved back to Canada in the meantime, she returned this year for a second time. Here, she shares with us her thoughts and impressions following her return home:

I’ve just returned to the cool, damp and rainy city of North Vancouver. Normally, the weather here doesn’t bother me too much, but as it is the beginning of June, we sure wish the weather would WARM UP! Unlike most of my friends and neighbours, I had a lucky break from what Ursula Le Guin called the “dreary beauty of Vancouver” when I went to Singapore to attend the Asian Festival of Children’s Content 2011. It was terrific—and not just because it was sunny and warm!

Last year, during the inaugural Festival, there were plenty of speakers, publishers, editors, authors, illustrators, teachers, emerging writers and librarians interested in children’s books. They came from across Asia with a handful from the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom and Europe to discuss books for young people that embraced the ‘Asian’ identity.

Before I go further, I realize that Asians are as varied as their languages and cultures, just as every other people from around the globe. And with the continued increase of so-called blended families such as my own (I am second generation Canadian from Polish/Ukranian/Amish stock and my husband is Chinese American) Asians and everyone else in the world are becoming—more mixed—but hopefully not mixed up.

A very large portion of the world’s population has Asian blood, but sadly, the amount of children’s literature depicting Asian characters and protagonists does not come close to being representative of that number. And this is the case even if one includes stories and books written in Asian languages and dialects. While there are certainly more adventure stories, chapter and picture books and reinvented folktales than there were ten years ago, there is still a lot of room for more.

Last year, during AFCC 2010, we agreed that it was indeed time for creators to produce more Children’s Literature with Asian characters and protagonists. That was a very valuable conference for me and close to my heart as I am a mother to two children of Chinese descent. And it was great to meet other parents, teachers, and creators who cared about the same things that I did.

This year’s event, while only the second AFCC, drew many of the same participants and speakers from the region and abroad, but there were also many new faces. These included veterans from the US including Stephen Mooser, the co-founder of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI), Neil Porter, the Editorial Director of Neil Porter Books and Liz Rosenberg, author and book reviewer for the Boston Globe.

I don’t mention these people simply because they are from the United States nor do I think that the other ‘veteran authors’ in attendance deserve less recognition. I bring these Americans up because this festival is really very new and I was surprised and delighted to have so many wonderful presenters to choose from. Obviously, word is getting out. There are more people than we realize who are also interested in celebrating ‘Asian Content for the World’s Children’.

In addition to those of us who are involved in the creation, publication, teaching and reading side of books, there were two special guests who spoke on Friday evening: H.E. Dr. José Ramos-Horta, President of the Democratic Republic of Timor-Leste who spoke to us of the importance in educating children in the developing world and Mr. Luis Soriano from Columbia. For those who haven’t heard of Mr. Soriano, as I admit I hadn’t, his story is one that everyone who loves books and children should know.

Mr. Soriano, wearing large, black rimmed glasses and a straw cowboy hat made his way up to the podium. I lived in Singapore for a year of so, and don’t remember anyone ever wearing a cowboy hat—so he didn’t exactly blend in. And after hearing what he had to say through the President’s translation, I think he likely stands out even in his native Columbia.

Several times a week, Mr. Soriano straps about 70 books onto the back of a donkey and treks to children off the beaten path in his homeland. He believes that since the majority of the Columbian population are children, with more than 50% without access to computers, he—and now other volunteers—take their travelling libraries to the children in the hope of introducing them to other ways of living through literature. After twelve years, Mr. Soriano is beginning to see some of these children striving to continue their education at University.

If you are a teacher (as I am) and perhaps have taught underprivileged children in your home country or some other place, you will understand that education is often out of reach for many reasons. Sometimes it is because there is a lack of resources including teachers, supplies and books. Mr. Soriano set out to change at least part of this equation in Columbia by introducing books to children to “activate their minds to understand that there are other realities” for them. If you want to see a clip of him, just do a search of his name on the internet. You will be as amazed as I was by this seemingly unassuming man.

Like Luis Soriano, there were other speakers and attendees who had come to Singapore for their first time. Most were delighted and inspired by the easy warmth and friendliness that seems inherent to people in this part of the world. Now that word has got out about the Festival, I’ll bet it won’t be difficult to gather an even more varied group of speakers and participants for AFCC 2012.

To have had so many talented speakers in the first two years makes me think that Festival Director, R. Ramachandran’s wish will likely come true. Singapore will become the “Bologna of Asia”.

Bonita Sauder
June 2011

Thank you, Bonita.

Author Kashmira Sheth has written two beautiful picture-books that focus on children’s relationship with their grandparents: My Dadima Wears a Sari and Monsoon Afternoon (Peachtree Publishers 2007 and 2008). They are both illustrated by Yoshiko Jaeggi and, in fact, work together as a balanced pair, since My Dadima Wears a Sari is about a little girl Rupa and her grandmother, who shows her a myriad of imaginative uses for a sari beyond simply wearing it; and Monsoon Afternoon tells the story of a little boy who is able to rely on his Dadaji out of all his family to play with him under the monsoon. The books also highlight the importance for children of not only being able to trust unquestionably in that special gift of grandparents to devote time to their grandchildren without deadlines or chores getting in the way, but also to pass on those small details of a personal family history that provide roots and grounding for a child.

We are delighted to welcome Kashmira to the Papertigers blog as part of our Authors Remember their Grandparents series. You can also read our 2010 interview with Kashmira and visit her website to find out about all her books.

Waterfall

I called my grandfather the same name as my mother called him, Bapuji. Bapuji means father. I don’t know why I didn’t call him Dadaji. It could be because I had a great grandfather whom I called Dadaji. I lived with my grandparents and great grandfather until I was eight so I have many wonderful memories of them.

One of my earliest memories with Bapuji never fails to bring a smile to my face. I must have been six or seven years old when we went to visit a temple in a town called Gadhda, located on Ghalo River. After visiting the temple, we went to Ghalo River. I don’t remember what month it was, but as grass, shrubs, and trees around the river were lush and thick, it might have been monsoon season or just after.

We walked along the banks until we came to a small waterfall. My grandparents, my uncle, cousins, and my mom all took a dip in the water. I, who had never had a shower, but had only taken baths with a bucket of water, was thrilled by the misty spray. I walked closer to the waterfall. Suddenly, Bapuji scooped me up. With his outstretched hands he placed me on a stone ledge. It was as if he had offered me to the waterfall!

On the ledge the water was more than a mist now. It was a powerful shower that soaked me. I was excited and scared at the same time. He took me back to the river bank and I begged, “Farithi, again.”

He did it again and again.

I don’t remember anything else about that trip—just his placing me under the waterfall, my begging for more, and his complying.

Bapuji died a long time ago. Often, when I think of him, I close my eyes. Time melts away and I become a young girl under the waterfall again. When I do that, it is not only that memory but also his love that showers me.

Kashmira Sheth

Continuing our Authors Remember Their Grandparents series, today we welcome author and illustrator Yuyi Morales to PaperTigers with a poignant piece about her Grandpa Felix.

Yuyi’s most recent book is Ladder to the Moon, written by Maya Soetoro-Ng (Candlewick Press/Walker Books, 2011). It is the story of a little girl Suhaila whose wish that she could know her grandmother is granted one night, when a golden ladder appears with Grandma Annie, ready to take her up to the moon. Read more about the book on Yuyi’s website, and take a look at the first few pages here - gorgeous!

This is not the first time Yuyi has depicted a grandmother by any means – there is her rosy-cheeked Abuelita with hair “the color of salt” in the exuberant My Abuelita written by Tony Johnston, our current Book of the Month on the main PaperTigers website (Harcourt Children’s Books, 2009). And there are her own picture books starring Señor Calavera – Just a Minute: A Trickster Tale and Counting Book (Chronicle Books, 2003) and Just in Case: A Trickster Tale and Alphabet Book (Roaring Brook Press, 2008): we are big fans of both of them in our household and love Señor Calavera’s website.

Visit Yuyi’s PaperTigers Gallery, enjoy her wonderful interview/gasp at the images over at 7-Imp’s, and find out about all her books and her many projects on her website and blog.

Grandpa Felix

My white dress of crochet clusters like popcorn, mama made especially for me.
She also made the wings and a halo with antennas, and painted with powder my cheeks, and when I saw myself in the mirror I was a butterfly.
At school I fluttered like I was supposed to do, I ran in a circle and flapped my arms with my wings behind. But nobody looked at me.
Everybody was too busy watching the pretty white girl flap her transparent arms and shake her chamomile washed hair.
Even mama, her swollen eyes straight at me, was looking somewhere else.
Nobody cares to watch the brown that is me.
Just like nobody wants to play with a girl with baby shoes that fit the insole inside and hold my leg right so that some day I can have straight feet.
“Mama, those shoes with the golden buckle and the bow on top are so lovely,” I have been telling her every time we pass by the glass case of the shoe store.
But mama doesn’t say much anymore.
She must be tired of repeating what I already know. That I have to stick with these ugly baby shoes until… when? Until I am a grown up.
Clipity, clap, clipity, clap, went my shoes while we left school.
Pling, plong, pling, plong, went my mama’s eye tears while we walked down the street. To Grandpa Felix’s house.
He is my abuelo because mama told me so. But he doesn’t remember me.
I know it because the other day when our teacher took us to the park, and my grandpa was sitting in a chair outside his door with a red and green blanket around him, and I waved at him thinking, “Now, look, everybody, there is my grandpa waving back to me,” and all the other kids waved too because they didn’t know he was my grandpa Felix – only mine, grandpa kept waving and smiling to all the children, just the same as to me.
He doesn’t remember me, I know.
Mama told me once, that sometimes he doesn’t remember her either, even though she is his child. “How could he?” she explained, “He’s too old to be one hundred and four and remember about so many things.”
Then, that morning, while I was a butterfly, Grandpa Felix stopped remembering no more. In her eyes, my mother’s tears going pling, plong, pling, plong.

Yuyi Morales

In Part 1 of her Guest Post for our current theme of Children and their Grandparents, author Swapna Dutta described the importance to Bengali children of the tales collected by Dakshinaranjan Mitra-Mazumdar. Here in Part 2, Swapna retells one of those stories for us. It comes from perhaps the most famous of Mitra-Mazumdar’s books, Thakurmar Jhuli (Paternal Grandma’s Bag of Stories):

Saat Bhai Champa / Seven Champak Brothers

LONG, long ago there lived a king who had seven queens but no children. So he was delighted when he came to know that the seventh queen was going to have a baby.

The queen had octuplets: seven little boys and a little girl. But the other six queens were terribly jealous. They stole the babies while the seventh queen was still unconscious and buried them in the ash-heap. Then they told her that she had given birth to crabs and showed her some. The queen was too heartbroken to protest and thought that someone had cursed her with such a terrible fate. The news reached the king. “The seventh queen must be a witch.” He said, “Throw her out of the kingdom!”

Something strange happened soon after. The birds stopped singing. The flowers stopped blooming. And what was worst, there were no flowers to worship the deity in the royal temple. Everyone scoured the kingdom for flowers. Finally someone discovered seven champaks and a camellia blooming on the ash-heap. “Get them!” said the king, “And I’ll reward you.”

But it proved to be an impossible task. As soon as anyone tried to pick them they shot up higher, out of reach, and sang in a sweet chorus:

“You can’t touch us –
Oh no, oh no!
Let the first queen come.
To her, we’ll go!”

The king sent for the first queen. She turned pale and remembered what she had done at the ash-heap. The flowers shot up higher and asked for the second queen. The second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth queens all came and went. None of them could touch the flowers. The flowers now asked for the king. But he could not get them either. The flowers shot up even higher and sang,

“You can’t touch us–
Oh no, oh no!
Let the seventh queen come.
And to HER, we’ll go!”

“Find the seventh queen!” ordered the king. “Find her at any cost!”

The king’s men scattered far and wide, searching for the queen and found her in the forest, lonely and miserable. They took her back to the palace and to the ash-heap. As soon as the flowers saw her, the seven champaks and the camellia tumbled down from the tree top, crying, “Mother! Mother!” as they fell into her arms.

But they were flowers no longer. The seven champaks had turned into seven handsome princes and the camellia into a beautiful princess. The king soon heard the story and punished the six guilty queens by banishing them from the kingdom. Suddenly the entire garden was full of flowers again. And the birds started singing. And every one lived happily ever after.

Retold by Swapna Dutta

You will also find a longer retelling of Seven Champaks to read/listen to in Begali with an English translation alongside, at Galpo Boli Shono, a fun website for children to immerse themselves in Bengali stories, puzzles and songs. We’re grateful to Galpo Boli Shono for their permission to reproduce some of their gorgeous illustrations by Tarit Bhattacharjee here, to accompany Swapna’s retelling of the story.

For our current focus on children and their grandparents, we have invited authors and illustrators who have written children’s books that center on that special relationship to share with us some of their own personal memories of their grandparents. Over the next few weeks we will be posting these pieces here on the blog – and I can promise you, we’re all in for a real treat.

Our first piece comes from author Andrea Cheng, who says, “Many of my books have to do with the relationship between grandparents and grandchildren (Grandfather Counts, Goldfish and Chrysanthemums, Shanghai Messenger, Only One Year, The Key Collection). Most of these stories in some way reflect the relationship I had with my grandparents, particularly with my paternal grandmother.”

One of my favorites of Andrea’s books is Where the Steps Were, her novel in verse about a class of inner-city 3rd graders, which also references grandparents. Do watch Andrea’s short but inspiring video documentary, which shares what “a group of 3rd graders can do with just one book.” Andrea’s latest book is the newly released Where Do You Stay? (Boyd’s Mill Press). Read our 2008 interview with Andrea here, and visit her website here.

Memories of My Grandparents

My family immigrated to the US from Hungary in installments. My immediate family came first, and then my grandparents, and later my aunt, uncle, and cousin. When I was very small, we all lived together. Later my grandparents got their own apartment just behind our house. I loved going to visit them and was allowed to walk there by myself. Grandma spoiled me with my favorite palacsintas (walnut and sugar filled crepes) She let me eat them before dinner and never seemed worried that I would spoil my appetite.

Sometimes I was allowed to spend the night with my grandparents. My grandmother fixed me a special bed on the floor that I called a nest, and we played there for at least an hour before bed. She sang me Hungarian nursery rhymes, which I still know, and let me play with her plastic pop together beads. She taught me to sew clothes for my dolls. My grandfather told me stories until finally I fell asleep.

When I was about eight, my grandparents moved from Cincinnati to Chicago to join my aunt. I was heartbroken. The feelings described in The Key Collection come from this early separation.

My husband’s parents immigrated to the US from China in 1949. Unfortunately he was never able to meet any of his grandparents. Luckily my grandmother, who lived until age 95, very happily took on the role of being my husband’s adopted grandmother. Grandma knew very little about her ancestry, but she looked Asian (perhaps Mongolian since the Mongols came through Hungary centuries ago) so many people assumed she was my husband’s grandmother, not mine!

Andrea Cheng

Thank you, Andrea.

I am including this post in this week’s Poetry Friday, which is hosted by Reading Tub’s Family bookshelf – I’ll add the link later as I’m having some difficulties conecting right now…

We are delighted to welcome writer Swapna Dutta back to PaperTigers with this article about the stories collected by Dakshinaranjan Mitra-Mazumdar (1877-1957) and thanks to him, still known and loved by Bengali children today. I personally have to thank Swapna for introducing me to the work of Sukumar Ray, and I think I’ll now be seeking out some of Mitra-Mazumdar’s tales. Swapna is also a regular contributor to BoliKids .

When I was a child the concept of stories and story-telling was inseparable from my two grandmothers; and it was so for most children of my generation. Those were the days of joint families where the mothers were always busy with household chores or outside work and fathers, too busy in their own world. But Grandma/grandpa/grandparents always had time for us. They were the ones to pet and pamper; listen to our troubles; provide us with pickles and sweets; and most important of all, tell us stories. Our grandparents had a formidable stock of tales that included folktales and fairy tales; stories from mythology and epics; and stories that formed part of common rituals – an integral part of our life. Children who lived in metro cities had access to the radio. But for the rest of us, hearing stories from grandparents was our chief source of entertainment when it was too dark to play outside; during the long rainy afternoons and the shivery winter evenings.

Most of those stories had come down through generations as part of oral tradition. As a result, there were several variations of the same stories. Not that it hampered our pleasure in any way! It was fun to come across two different endings or have the prince/princess face different situations, adventures and dilemmas. One of the pioneers to note down these tales and bring out a printed collection was Dakshinaranjan Mitra-Mazumdar. He patiently collected stories from village women, travelling from village to village as he did so, his main aim (more…)