Tag: FWD Comics

  • What does an Architect do?

    What does an Architect do?

    The honest ramblings of a student of architecture

    Oh, are you finishing 12th standard? What’s next?” “I’m going to architecture school, Aunty.” “So you’ll be doing my new cow shed, then?” “Of course I will, Aunty!” This is me at the beginning of my architectural journey when I’m not sure what this profession entails. There are five years to be spent in the architecture college, so I figure that somewhere along the way, the answer would come to me..

    Phase 1: I’m going to design houses.

    I’m-going-to-design-houses_FWD_Life

    Since the eighth standard, I’ve had a growing fascination for architecture. I’ve spent my summers making cardboard models of my dream home, creating nooks to read my books, having a giant tree in my bedroom, and even planting an aquarium in between all this. There is a rush of excitement now that I am in my 12th standard. My decision to be an architect is readily approved as my mathematics scores are ‘too good to waste on the Fine Arts’. Hence, my love for drawing + my good scores = architecture; added up well.

    Phase 2: Unsure, but I love this!

    Unsure,-but-I-love-this_FWD_Life

    I’ve enrolled myself in an architecture college and realise that designing a cow shed is actually a respectfully serious and complex task at hand! Off late, I am developing more skills. I am sketching, cutting, sticking, tearing, carving, printing and doing a whole lot of other things I never thought I would do in an architecture college. The subjects range from structures to sociology, from printmaking to construction. There are times when
    we even follow cows around

    Phase 3: No, I’m not an Engineer!

    No,-I’m-not-an-Engineer_FWD_Life

    I have to explain how I am learning to design ‘buildings’, as my mundane explanation seems to dilute the richness of this profession. Nobody is amused by my tale of following the cows. Sometimes I just nod in defeat every time I am introduced as an engineer. I need some help; hence, I resort to the internet. “An architect is a person who plans, designs and oversees the construction of buildings”. NO, NO, NO! That’s not right! (For future reference, stay clear of Wikipedia definitions if you don’t want to be torn apart by your architect friends). Defeated, I go back to my chants of “I’m learning how to design ‘buildings”.

    Phase 4: I’m a master of space

    I’m-a-master-of-space_FWD_Life

    I pore over texts glimpsing into the history of the profession and its vague beginnings, where the carpenter was sometimes the architect while at other times there was no real difference between an architect, an artist, and a sculptor. Over time, I begin to feel the power that rests in an architect’s hands. He is the master of space, a creator of dwellings connecting them to the sky and the earth aesthetically, and weaving together an experience.
    Unfortunately, my newfound understanding amuses only myself. If a doctor told you how he is ‘the healer of not only the physical body but also the mental soul aided by his knowledge’, you would roll your eyes and respond with, “I have a health problem and you fix it”. The search for a definition is my search for understanding, and there is no need to force that upon anybody else.

    Flash forward to the present, where I’m explaining to a curious group how I design ‘buildings’, and they congratulate me on my first project. This is easier, but through the nods and smiles, I decide that I wouldn’t mention that I am indeed designing that cow shed.

    Words and Illustration by Leeza John

     

  • Riding her Dreams : On a ride with Mridula Koshy

    Riding her Dreams : On a ride with Mridula Koshy

    “I write, so I can join the conversation,” she says. A tête-à-tête with author Mridula Koshy

    Noor is a 13-year-old girl who lives in a oneroom house in Delhi’s slum. She dreams of getting a green bicycle and become India’s first kabaadiwali, or scrap dealer. We witness through her eyes, a year in life, her trials, tribulations, and sorrows.

    Mridula Koshy’s new book ‘Bicycle Dreaming’, inspired by young girls dwelling in slums and the challenges they face, is not just another narrative that depicts the life of the underprivileged in our society. She narrates the story as read from a diary of a little girl, to express her innermost thoughts, and thereby her own personality.

    What was your inspiration behind Bicycle Dreaming?

    Mridula Koshy

    I live in Delhi, and the neighbourhood in which I set my story is close to my home. It is a poor neighbourhood, with some homes that don’t have indoor plumbing and bathrooms are communal. When I walk through this community I cannot help but experience the way in which people in Delhi are both simultaneously visible and invisible to one another. Its residents work and do odd jobs in our neighbourhood. I know the kabadiwalla who collects my recyclable trash. I often see his children in the library of my school, that I run nearby. The more I see this neighborhood, the more obscure it becomes to me.

    The issues of gender, colour, everyday lives, relations, sorrow of the urban poor – these are all depicted in your writings. Do you feel that social concerns of people living n the can be addressed through literature, or could it bring changes in the outlook of people?

    I am not sure that literature can address social problems. However, literature does allow us to enter the lives of others. This act of imagination is a powerful step toward empathising with others. But certainly, a lot depends on what the writer is asking the reader to empathise with. A poor person who enters Indian writing in English is often enough exceptionally poor while the protagonist might be exceptionally noble or sensitive or beautiful or even brutal. What we are asked to empathise with, is the exceptional nature of the character and not so much the character’s humanity.

    I wanted to see if it would be possible to write a story in which the reader is asked not to empathise with the exceptional characters, but rather with their humanity. Noor, my 13-year old protagonist, couldn’t be a more unexceptional, more average person.

    Do you see success in using such shadowed characters?

    Writers have to rely on readers to judge the success of their writing.

    While writing the story, did you ever feel like you were one of those characters?

    At different times I heard the voices of the different characters in the story, and yes, sometimes they argued with me and, failing to win the argument, have even pleaded with me to have their way.

    But I have to be honest; writing is not a mystical or even magical experience of transcribing voices I hear. It is work, and most of the time, it is not my characters and their dilemmas that interest me enough to keep working, but instead the exploration of an idea I need to figure out. I needed to figure out if was possible for me to write an unexceptional character who was yet capable of eliciting empathy in a reader.

    In my earlier novel, ‘Not Only the Things That Have Happened’, I tried to figure out how a woman could survive the loss, not only of her son, but also survive knowing she was the one who gave him up. But over the course of writing this book set in Kerala and  the United States, I became more interested in the question of what might have led her to give him up, and even more interested in question of how he would survive never meeting her. It was only a small step from there to the decision to kill my main character off in the first pages so the story would not be about the more banal one of achieving a the reunion between the mother and her lost son.

    Tell us about your experiences while writing Bicycle Dreaming.

    My eye in writing is most often the narrative eye, very close to the object / scene. It’s as if I am a camera mounted on my character’s shoulder. I do not often write from the first person perspective, but it is even more rare for me to employ the godlike omniscient third person. This is a craft question but it also a question of what best aids me in thinking about the questions that animate my writing. I find the first person perspective, limiting because there is very little question for the reader of not identifying with whatever is happening in a story. That overidentification is not only cloying, it can be manipulative.

    The far remove of the purely third person is useful in action packed plot driven works that set out to answer more banal questions like what happened and what happened next. But for me, the idea that matters most is the idea of a reader who is present, but not manipulated, and removed enough to question, but not so removed as to be driven along by a plot.

    What is your favourite aspect about writing, and your favourite subjects?

    There is a conversation going on at all times, one in which we try to understand our experience at life. Writing is a very powerful way to participate in that conversation. This is why I write, so I can join the conversation.

    If not a writer, what would you be?

    I used to think I wanted to be a radio reader. But these days I read aloud to children in the library and that has taken care of my hunger to broadcast my voice.

    I run a community library that works to provide books to those who would not otherwise have access to any. I don’t however think of myself as librarian, but as a community organiser. Our library is run on democratic principles
    which go beyond ownership of the library by its young members (children) but actually strives to equip them with the leadership skills necessary to build a library movement. Our work is political both because it addresses an injustice – the lack of access – but also because it works for wider change.

    Then I am left with another unfulfilled ambition – to dress other people. I loved to dress my dolls and I often dress my friends. I love the idea of costume, of telling a story with clothes, of maybe meeting someone and of there being a mutual recognition through our outfit, of a story perhaps that we want to share with each other.

    Words by Vishnudas Nandan       Photographs from Various Sources

  • Not HA HA Funny (Yet) – Mrs. Funny Bones

    Not HA HA Funny (Yet) – Mrs. Funny Bones

    Not judging the book by its cover, here’s the verdict whether it tickle’s your funny bone.

    The funniest thing about Twinkle Khanna is not her name. That said, though, it is probably not even her latest venture into mainstream literature, Mrs Funny bones. For the ones who love Mom jokes (a brand of jokes that only a mother would crack), this is your thing. But, if you love your Mom jokes with a hint of condescension, this is definitely your thing.

    That said, I would admit that as a selfclaimed Bollywood fan, an insight into the household woes of a Bollywood star’s wife and ex-Bollywood starlet herself is an idea that made my palms itch. The book, written as a series of chapters titled alphabetically reminds us that, to start with, Twinkle is a mommy. She, like most Indian mommies, has to deal with a husband who cracks worse jokes than her, children who don’t laugh at her jokes, a mother who will be offended by her jokes and a mother-in-law who tries to prove she is better at the jokes to begin with. While some would see the potential to conduct a sociological experiment here (and a very entertaining one at that), it is a tad annoying to have to read a constant attempt to be more normal.

    Mrs-Funny-Bones-Twinkle-Khanna

    Words by Sonia Mariam Thomas Images by Various Sources