Saturday, 19 April 2014

Teaching Creativity.




(4 Mar ‘07)
            Last year was a successful writing year for me. As I juggle job, domestic chores and then write in whatever time I have to spare, it was a satisfying period. In the past, when I wasn’t working, writing was a hobby. Ironically, now that I have pretty little leisure, I consider it a parallel profession. It’s become an addiction, a sort of catharsis. Over the years, I’ve taken to writing more fiction or narrative non-fiction than articles. The payment that comes in from all of these is little (freelancers will understand), but the joy is much. I have, over the internet and in real life, made friends, acquaintances, contacts, through writing. I’ve earned the respect of some, but most of all, I’ve learnt to ‘think out of the box’. It’s been over two and a half decades that I’ve been writing now, and going through my scrapbook is like going through several eras at a glance. Great fun.
            I get a daily update of Goan news thanks to an energetic person I’ve never met, Fredrick Noronha. I admire his perseverance and consistency in keeping alive and alert a popular website. Like many other ‘friends’ on the net, this one is also someone I whose mails I look forward to. This morning he sent me a write up on a library in Saligao which has been opened in the memory of Frank Simoes. It thrilled me. If there’s one thing I like about the area where I live in Mumbai, it’s the libraries. They’re decrepit, run down and musty, but occupied. Run by the municipality in peeling buildings, they’re overused. The Central Library in Goa was a favourite haunt when I first set up home in Panjim. Through the years when my husband had a transferable job, books travelled with us like members of our family. Every pamphlet, second hand thriller picked up from the pavements, was read. Nothing was considered trash. Even now, alongside heavyweight literature, I like to browse through comics. Each plays a role in a readers’ life. Those who eat salads and soups may also enjoy ice-creams and burgers.
            Why I like the idea of this library in Saligaon is because it’s going to, I gather, combine reading with other creative activities for an hour each evening. I hope they add on story writing/telling by the children as we used to have at the Sane-Guruji Kathamala in my childhood.
            I guess my love for literature began because of a neighbour, a commie union leader named Dada Lonkar. My family gave me the books and education. He gave me a story every evening at eight. I’d ring his bell, climb onto his bed and demand he tell me a new story. His repertoire was seemingly endless. He drew from Sanskrit, English and Russian authors. Or so he said. Did he make up some of those fascinating tales? He certainly has been responsible for inspiring me. The other important factors that contributed to my love for literature were my teachers. I owe them so much, so much. I came from a troubled home and they stabilized my persona.
            Back to Saligao. If one can’t have neighbours like Dada, one can certainly have a substitute where volunteers can pass on the love of the written word to the next generation. I enjoy television. As much as I enjoy theatre or cinema. But the book has a role to play. It allows the individual mind to form its own images. That’s what gives it advantage over the other creative forms. Reading out one’s story can give a child confidence of a sports’ person. The increase in vocabulary gives expression to thoughts and emotions. The exposure to others’ thoughts gives tolerance and understanding of other cultures.
            The next time I’m in Goa, I’m going to send across some of my books to this library.
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