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Young collaborators

A creative duo

When I was studying in the Second Form (VII Std), I had an eager desire to write and illustrate stories. I decided to bring out a handwritten magazine. My collaborator in this venture was a girl called Janaki, who lived next door to us. She was one year older to me and in the Third Form.

Creating a Magazine

Janaki and I had always been in competition, whether in quiz contests or stage performances. But we joined hands for writing the magazine. Janaki wrote a few stories, and I did a few. I also illustrated all the stories. Janaki did the fair copying since she had a neat handwriting.

At first we called our magazine `Jagajothi'. Someone told us that this was too long a name, and that we should think of a shorter, catchier name. So our magazine was re-named `Dheepam'. One corner of the verandah of our house was converted into the magazine office. When the first issue came out, a number of our seniors in school made it a point to meet us and appreciate our creativity. The people living in our street too were much impressed by the magazine. Some of them advised us to have the magazine bound since it might get torn otherwise. They also offered to pay for the binding. Some others came forward to buy us the paper and ink. Soon we were bringing out a neatly bound magazine with coloured drawings and rather melodramatic stories. The magazine was published regularly until we reached the Fifth and Sixth Forms respectively.

Fiddling Away

Janaki and I also tried to learn how to play the violin. There was a music teacher called Tommy Vaathiyaar who lived two houses away. He told us where to buy the violins and then we both were ready to start learning.

After the first few days when we were doing elementary exercises in Carnatic music, Tommy Vaathiyar said that Janaki didn't have the hand for violin playing since her fingers were not flexible enough. "What about this chap then?" Janaki asked angrily, pointing to me. "He has the right fingering style" said the Vaathiyaar much to the chagrin of Janaki. Anyway, Janaki refused to drop out, and we both continued bothering the neighbourhood with our fiddling.

Sometimes at home I tried to play some popular songs on the violin. Tommy Vaathiyaar bellowed from his house: "Dey! I'll break your fingers if you play such music". And I would hurriedly shift to jenda varisai or some such exercise.

We went past swarajathi and started on keerthanais when Tommy Vaathiyar suddenly went insane. Contrary to the general opinion voiced when we were around, his madness was not caused by our violin playing. The Vaathiyaar was taken to an asylum, and that was the end of our foray into Carnatic music, since he was the only music teacher in our town at that time. Our violins were promptly sold off.

On The Stage

Another field in which Janaki and I collaborated was drama. We put up plays quite frequently in a community hall, backed by some local groups. One of our great successes was a play called `Pushpakkoodai' (Basket of Flowers). Janaki was the heroine and I played a sadistic police officer. There was a scene where I brutally whipped her. We had devised a technique to make the whipping look realistic. And Janaki acted as though she was really feeling the whiplash. The crowd started shouting "Thambi, that's enough. Leave her alone." Janaki and I felt that this was recognition for our innovative performance.

After I finished school I shifted to Madurai for my college studies. Janaki went off to Tirunelveli, and we lost touch with each other. A couple of years ago a teacher from a local school came to see me about a play to be put up in her school.

During our conversation I came to know that she was related to Janaki. I eagerly enquired about her.And I was told that Janaki had died in a car accident some years ago.

J. VASANTHAN

(The author can be contacted by e-mail : jvasanthan@sancharnet.in)

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