Gained in translation

It was late in the afternoon last weekend, and I was on a video call with my sister. The call was a busy one, with my niece and nephew frequently popping their heads into the video frame to talk to me. Likewise, my kids also walked in and out of the call, catching up with their cousins and watching my baby niece gurgle in delight.

My sister suddenly exclaimed, “Hey, do you know what Amma is busy with these days?” She continued excitedly, “…She is translating your blogs into our mother tongue.”

I felt an inexplicable joy. Later in the day, I called my mom. Her enthusiasm was contagious as she read out the articles in our beautiful mother tongue, Tamil. She had chosen her words and sentences so carefully and had chiseled them to perfection.

Over the last five years of my blogging, my mom had always felt unhappy that she had not been able to access my blogs and read them as often as she would have liked.

When the lockdown began, she decided to catch up and started reading the blogs. The idea to translate the blogs into Tamil struck her one morning, and there was no looking back after that.

Now, she writes the final draft for one blog and a rough draft for another each day. And whenever we talk on the phone, she reads them out to me, and I can sense her excitement.

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A writer’s work derives meaning only when his or her work connects with her readers. Whenever my blogging friends or social media friends post comments or likes on my blog, I feel happy and thrilled.

But when my mom reads out her translations, I feel a different kind of joy, a kind of contentment. I cherish these afternoon calls, when we exchange ideas on writing and how the different words and sentences in each blog sound in both languages.

I feel deeply grateful to my parents for encouraging me to read and write, for encouraging me to appreciate life’s simple moments. Thank you Amma and Dad for this precious gift.

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A good book

I have not been myself this week. My mind has been sucked into the pages of an ‘unputdownable’ book.

This week, I live my normal life like an automaton. My brain, my attention and my senses have all been hijacked by the complex plot, and the gripping action.

I cook, and I think about what’s going to happen next. I feel as if I am floating in the real world and my identity exists only in the world inhabited by the characters in the book. This is the only reality.

Any small break, and I am nose-deep in the book. I am amazed at the power that words can have over me. Words that, when combined just right, narrate a powerful story. Words that grip me, make me laugh, make me cry and make my heart thud with the excitement of what is going to happen next!

And when the book ends, I am sure I will have difficulty coming back to the real world, where work and school and chores beckon. It will be an arduous task to leave the characters behind, but there are some that occupy permanent residence in my mind. They will probably join some of the other memorable characters, who already live there. People whom I know and love from those lovely books I have read, people who have influenced me and who have opened my mind to new thought.

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Reading a book is an indescribable pleasure. Whenever I finish a great book, I yearn to write one too. This is what reading does to me. There is a  ‘wannabe writer’ in every bookworm’s head. I am no exception.

I dream of dialogues between imaginary characters and look at interesting people, who will fit into the book that I will eventually write. 

The Wish – A Short Story

ONE MONTH AGO

As the yellow studio lights fell on her, Avanti felt droplets of sweat forming on her upper lip and below her eyes.

She was minutes away from winning the ‘What’s your IQ?’ show. She had five more questions to answer. The make-up man patted her face dry and soon the cameras started rolling.

The quiz master asked the five questions and she got all of them right. She had won. Things were a blur as she was showered with glitter. The judges walked up to give her the prize money. The main sponsor was giving away a unique prize. She was asked to write down five wishes or dreams. The sponsor would endeavour to help her realize one of these five dreams.

FIVE YEARS AGO

Avanti clucked in diasapproval and looked at the handsome twenty-something man, who stood before her, giving his usual cheeky smile.

She worked at the Employment Bureau in her town.

The man said, “Do you have any updates for my job?”

She replied with barely concealed irritation, “Mr.D’Souza, we have your number. We will definitely call you if something comes up.”

But he stood there and said, “Will you come out with me for a cup of coffee? And the name’s Mark.”

She refused but he persisted.

He showed up there very often asking her out, sending cards and flowers.  She was quite irritated, as he never took her ‘no’ seriously.

One day, when she was already having a bad day, he showed up with a long stemmed red rose.

She was in a bad mood and threw the rose down, and said, “Do you know why I don’t like you? It’s because you are unemployed, and are just floating around without any purpose.”

He looked at her strangely and walked away. She walked away in a huff, and that was that.

That was the last time she saw him. He stopped coming to the Bureau. The flowers, cards and chocolates stopped.

She worried and brooded. Her womanly pride was hurt. Every morning, she looked for him, with no luck. Heart of hearts she felt that maybe she had started liking him a little. His phone was out of reach.

Life moved on. After about three years since she last saw him, she saw his photo splashed on all newspapers, and TV. He was hailed as the next big literary sensation. His books had become bestsellers.

She smiled to herself.

NOW

After the high of winning the quiz show, the sheen of fame was slowly wearing off. The sponsors had promised to call her within the month to let her know, which dream of hers they would help her realize.

She was back to the dull monotony of her job at the Bureau, all days the same.

After a month she received a call from the sponsor.

“Ma’am, we are making your Wish No:2 come true – A trip to the Amazon”.

She was a little disappointed but sounded cheerful and thanked the sponsor.

She then asked, “Were you able to speak to Mr.Mark D’Souza about my wanting to spend a few hours talking to him?”

“Yes ma’am, as that was your first wish, that’s where we started. Mr.D’Souza sends his regrets but has promised that he will send you a copy of his latest book, autographed by him”, said the sponsor.

Her trip to the Amazon was fantastic but there was a niggling worry about Mark that wouldn’t leave her.

She constantly thought about him and their past. Did he remember her? She could only wonder.

One day, finally, Mark’s latest book of short stories, reached her. She eagerly opened it to see his message.

She was disappointed to see that it was simply signed – ‘Dear Avanti, Wishing you the very best, Mark.’

She looked through the book and her heart stopped, when she saw a short story titled – ‘The lady at the Employment Bureau’.

She did not have the courage to read it.