Being the son of teachers - an English Lecturer and a Telugu Pundit - language, more than science or math, cast its spell on me. I grew up among books, books and more books. It doesn't mean that I have read them all. I've had a sneak peek at some of them. Anyway, while in school, like any other child of that age, my interest lay in comic books and Enid Blyton's Famous Fives. Though my college education dragged me away from them, forcibly diverting my attention towards sciences and mathematics. It felt like I'd landed in a suffocating cul-de-sac, those years. Being the enfant terrible that I was, I failed to live up to my parents' expectations of becoming an engineer. Damp squib was my attempt. And so, back to reading books of interest, drawn by the love for language. Poring through the Random House Dictionary that my father has, was my favourite pastime all through. The syllabic division, pronunciation keys provided alongside each word always held my attention.
It was the oft quoted french phrases in the novels that developed my fascination for French and I had a go at a certificate course in French. That I didn't pursue further is a different matter altogether, but the experience gave me a greater insight into English words, their wonder and magic. It also gave me the right perspective of nailing down the meaning of a word, by getting at its derivation, by getting down to the roots of the words. Thenceforth, what little vocabulary I have, I have retained in my memory by this approach.
When I decided to pursue post-graduation, the option naturally was English and nothing else. English Literature it was. Yet again, it remained unachieved due to circumstances and partly mea culpa.
Until some five years ago, I never thought that I can express my views and thoughts in Telugu and also translate passages from English to Telugu and vice-versa. All the while I thought that I fit the Sanskrit saying pandita putrah parama sunthah to the boot. It was only when I had attempted to pen a synoptic write-up of Paradise Lost in Telugu that I gained confidence in Telugu too. That attempt, though rejected by a magazine editor (the unfortunate soul must be ruing now;), gave me the necessary impetus. From then on, there is no looking back. After reading my posts my Father advises me to attempt writing short stories. Out of my brain if blog posts come, can short stories be far behind, (for the uninitiated, this is a parody of P. B. Shelley's famous line If winter comes, can spring be far behind? from Ode to the West Wind) seems to be his optimism.
Will I at least now match his expectations? Only time will tell. Until I start battering all with my short stories, read on these posts.
It was the oft quoted french phrases in the novels that developed my fascination for French and I had a go at a certificate course in French. That I didn't pursue further is a different matter altogether, but the experience gave me a greater insight into English words, their wonder and magic. It also gave me the right perspective of nailing down the meaning of a word, by getting at its derivation, by getting down to the roots of the words. Thenceforth, what little vocabulary I have, I have retained in my memory by this approach.
When I decided to pursue post-graduation, the option naturally was English and nothing else. English Literature it was. Yet again, it remained unachieved due to circumstances and partly mea culpa.
Until some five years ago, I never thought that I can express my views and thoughts in Telugu and also translate passages from English to Telugu and vice-versa. All the while I thought that I fit the Sanskrit saying pandita putrah parama sunthah to the boot. It was only when I had attempted to pen a synoptic write-up of Paradise Lost in Telugu that I gained confidence in Telugu too. That attempt, though rejected by a magazine editor (the unfortunate soul must be ruing now;), gave me the necessary impetus. From then on, there is no looking back. After reading my posts my Father advises me to attempt writing short stories. Out of my brain if blog posts come, can short stories be far behind, (for the uninitiated, this is a parody of P. B. Shelley's famous line If winter comes, can spring be far behind? from Ode to the West Wind) seems to be his optimism.
Will I at least now match his expectations? Only time will tell. Until I start battering all with my short stories, read on these posts.
Keep writing Sekhar, it is God's gift.
ReplyDeleteMalathi
God willing, yes Malati, I will. Thank you.
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