INAGURATING ‘ALL INDIA KONKANI YUVA SAHITYA SAMMELANA’ ON

23RD JAN. 2010

BY

NEMICHANDRA

My dear friends of Goa and Konkan region,

It is my privilege to be here with you inaugurating ‘All India Konkani Yuva Sahitya
Sammelana’. I am thankful to the ‘Goa Konkani Academy’ and the ‘Directorate of
Higher Education’ for giving me this unique opportunity to share my thoughts and
feelings as a writer.

I have come to Goa many times, as a tourist and also as an Engineer as some of our
helicopter trials were carried out here, in the Naval Base. But I am grateful for this
opportunity to be here at Goa for the first time as a writer and meet all of you, young and
celebrated writers. Thank you for this honor.

I know Konkani is a small community, but I also know that the achievement of this
community is immense.

I have had the good opportunity to be associated with many eminent writers from Konkan
region and one of them Krishananda Kamat definitely influenced me with his energy,
enthusiasm, and love for travel and explore.

I am an Engineer by profession, but writing has remained my passion. I have not felt any
incongruence incoherence in what I am doing. I am glad that this Sammelana is in
collaboration with Government College of Arts and Science. Often I am asked this
question, how come a science student, an engineer chose to be a writer. I have been a
writer, even before I was an engineer. I keep saying there are no barriers between science
and arts. I do not understand bifurcating knowledge into airtight compartments like
science and literature. Knowledge is all encompassing. Your degree in arts
is no barrier to do science. Similarly your specialization in science is no hurdle to
do arts and literature.

You bring unique flavour to literature, when people from various backgrounds, varied
fields take up writing, it would be a multi dimensional writing. Writing for me is like
meditation. After a hard day of work - mind you, I leave home at 6 in the morning and
reach back late in the evening after juggling with half a dozen helicopter projects. Writing
helps me to unwind, helps me to understand my own inner feelings better, brings clarity
to many of my thoughts, and helps me to cope with daily stress of living in a fast
changing city like Bangalore. It is difficult for me to imagine my life without writing; I
am simply compelled to write. If someday I decide to say goodbye to my profession, it
would surely be for my love of writing and travel.
To write what one feels strongly, what one feels deeply is important. Let us forget for a
moment whether it sells or not, whether the editor accepts or not. Writing is its own
reward. I have felt at peace with myself, when I am able to put down on paper the ideas
that have long haunted me. Writing has helped me to resolve my innermost conflicts.

I remember my story ‘Baduku Kayuvudilla’ which means ‘Life does not wait’ – the story
I wrote, while I was here at Goa. More than a decade back, there was a lot of pressure
from my in-laws side prodding us to go to America, where my husband’s sister had
settled as a citizen. My husband, piled up with degrees from IIT and IISc, was happy with
his teaching job, myself in a public sector, was all excited about being involved in the
design and development of India’s very first indigenously designed multi role, multi
mission helicopter – we had no desire to go and settle abroad. There were family
pressures, to become ‘successful’, to ‘earn well’, there were comparisons, humiliations. I
was deeply disturbed. The quiet moments I got here alone when I had come for my work,
the serene evenings I spent at Bogmalo beach, made me start thinking. What is success?
Is happiness in my success, or success in my happiness. To this day, my story ‘Life Does
not wait’ remains one of those stories closest to my heart. Because, it helped me resolve
my inner conflicts, helped me to see the chosen path with great clarity and I was a lot
lighter after I penned it down. The entire backdrop to this story is this wonderful place of
Goa.

I was fortunate that I was exposed to a whole lot of arts, science and literature at a young
age. My father hailed from a village in the dry lands of Bayaluseeme. But his thirst for
education brought him to Mysore. Studying under the street lamps, eating ‘weekly rice’ in
benevolent homes, he did his BA and later MA. He became a professor and retired from
Sahyadri College as the Principal. This father of mine had collection of thousands of
books and there I met not just Shaskpear, Bernard Shaw, Bronte, Kuvempu, Bendre,
Putina, but also Da Vinci, Madam Curie, Thomas Alva Edison, and who not?

Da Vinci, was a Scientist, Mathematician, Engineer, Inventor, Anatomist, Painter,

Sculptor, Architect, Botanist and a Writer. It helped that he was born in 16th century. May
be it would have been never possible in these days of superspeciality.

Da Vinci’s unquenchable curiosity was equaled only by his powers of invention. He is

widely considered to be one of the greatest painters of all time and perhaps the most
diversely talented person ever to have lived. The scope and depth of his interests were
without precedence.

Closer home, we have wonderful examples like Shivaram Karanth. A Major writer, Social
activist, Environmentalist, Yakshagana artist, Film maker and a Thinker, he wrote four
volumes of encyclopedia on science.

My close association with genius writer like Krishnananda Kamat convinced me of what
I always believed in: ‘to follow your heart’. Krishnananda Kamat was a distinguished
Kannada writer, with a Ph.D. from New-York state University, a natural scientist,
photographer, an artist, he was everything rolled into one. Always happy, contented, I had
never seen him without his broad smile.

His writings, his line drawings, photographs, paintings, his travels, culture studies, are
innumerable. He was truly a man of multiple talents.

I believe in the saying ‘Youth has no age’. You can remain eternally young. I have seen
such energy enthusiasm in persons like Kamat in their late sixties which often I miss in
many of the young of today. Driven by passion, he worked nonstop, pursuing the subject
of his interest. He was not a ‘successful’ writer – money and recognition did not pour
down – but he excelled in every field he chose. You need to just pick up a book of Kamat,
the writing is so simple, lively, enchanting, educating. His energy and zeal were simply
contagious. They have remained my true inspiration.

I have been fortunate that I could write what I really felt like, may be because I was not
dependent on my writing for my bread and butter. It gave me immense freedom to write
what I want, the way I want. But I was also fortunate that there were editors and
publishers who published what I wrote. I remember, more than a decade and half back, I
wanted to write about Madam Curie. She has been my inspiration, from a young age.
Without the benefit of a laboratory, she had discovered radium in a ramshackle
shed. She was the scientist who refused to patent radium and chooses poverty and
simplicity. She dedicated radium for the service of humankind. She was the one who
rushed to the war fronts during the First World War, to save soldiers with her X-ray
equipment.

I remember the days when I wanted to enter engineering. I was clearly told even by my
lecturers that it is not the field for women. In all of the text books that I read as a child
and as a teenager, I never saw any women scientists being mentioned. But I was fortunate
to have found this little book on Marie Curie, in my father’s library. At that time, more
than two and half decades back, hardly any women entered engineering. They said ‘you
have carpentry, machine shop, foundry- no it is not the field for the women’. With lot of
self doubt and fear I and my friend entered Engineering College and both of us came out
with University ranks. That is when we realised that there was nothing that was
impossible for women. My first personal travel abroad with very little money, was a sort
of pilgrimage to Paris to find all those places linked with Madam Curie.

And I wrote a scientific biography of Madam Curie. I never thought it would interest the
common magazine reader. Here in the well known Kannada magazine, I remember, till
then, serials used be only fictions and most of them, family dramas. When I told the
editor I have written about Madam Curie, this editor said, ‘give it, I will publish’. ‘But it
runs to 40 pages, it is not a short article’ I said. ‘No problem, I will make it a serial’ he
said. I was pleasantly surprised when he said later, right from the first issue, letters from
readers started pouring in. I wrote from my heart, what truly inspired me. It reinforced
my belief -write from the heart, write about what disturbs you, what interests you, what
you are passionate about – that will interest the reader, that will disturb the reader, that
will reach out to the reader.
I have purely pursued my passion. To my young friends here today, I have one small
suggestion, do not be armchair writers. In these days of internet, it is very easy to sit at
a computer and finish an article or even a story. Internet can be great source of
information and can be a very useful reference tool, but it can not replace life. Go out and
explore the real world, meet real people, there is a wealth of experience waiting to
happen to you. There is a whole lot of life awaiting you. As you experience, introspect,
write.

I have always traveled a lot for my writing, though it is difficult balancing my work and
life. But I do plan months and some times, years in advance and have managed my
travels. My search for the martyr’s son of Jaliyanwalabag in Amritsar, search for a
survivor of domestic violence in Mumbai, search for the grave of Razia Sultana in Delhi,
search of the last of the Jews in Ernakulam and Bangalore - have all been enthralling
experiences with interactions in real world.

My fascination with the history and heritage of women scientists and aviators has
taken me round the world on personal travels on shoestring budgets. I saved for
years to be able to go on personal expeditions to England, Europe, North America, Latin
America and Middle East, visiting more than 20 countries. I spent almost a week in Paris,
to find the places linked with Madam Curie- the place she studied, the place where she
discovered Radium, the Laboratory where she worked with Piere Curie, the Radium
institute that she founded and her final resting place at the Panthion. I have travelled to
Bath, Slough in England in search of the 16th century astronomer- Carolin Herschel, went
to Bern, the capital of Switzerland, in search of Eiensteins wife. Yes, she had contribution
to his famous theory of relativity. And this passion took me to the remote village Nasca,
in Peru, in Latin America. That was the place where German scientist Maria Rache spent
40 years to study the mysterious Nasca lines, in the Peruvian desert. I went in search of
women scientists and women aviators, to collect information and get inspiration. But I
also had a wealth of wonderful experiences, trekking in the Andes Mountains, roaming in
the sacred valleys of Peru, reaching the heights of Machu Pichu- the lost city of the Incas,
travelling over the mighty Amazon River in a small boat for 28 hours from Peru to Brazil
and back. And spending a night in the Amazon forests. These are the experiences that my
travelogues behold.

And for the young writers, I would like to tell them never to be disheartened by a
rejection slip. Your past is not your future. Doing your best means, never stop trying.

Often I tell the story of Richard Bach in my management workshops. As writers, most of
you have read ‘Jonathan Livingston Seagull’. It is about a bird, a seagull learning about
life and flight. It was rejected by every publisher that Richard Bach approached; finally
the first edition of 7500 copies was brought out in the year 1970. It remained on New
York Times Best Seller list for almost a year. In just two years a million copies were in
print. It is still in print even today 40 years later. More than 30 million copies are sold and
it is translated to 30 languages of the world.
I believe, the quick ones, the sensational ones, may have their day. But your true writings
will still be around, long after we have gone. That is immortality and through our
writings we live forever.

* * *
Today, we are living under testing times. I would like to share my personal experience as
a writer whose writings are influenced by the changing times.

I remember in my teens, as a young girl I wrote about not exactly the love stories or
romance, but stories exploring the man-woman relations. Then in my twenties we were
part of the women’s movement- feminism, gender equality predominated not just my
writings, but also most of our writings of Karnataka during that period. I brought out the
third collection in 1992, my stories had all turned towards exploring more about life. But
since 2000, I wrote no story; I was totally preoccupied with my novel ‘Yad Vashem’.

‘Yad Veshem’ is a monument in Jerusalem to the memory of the six million Jews who
were the victims of Nazism. In my novel it symbolizes millions of innocent lives perished
in crimes of racism, genocide and mindless murder. History is replete with mass
atrocities, but not all of them are remembered or recorded as well as the Jewish
Diaspora.

The novel is about a little Jewish girl growing up in old Bangalore in a Hindu family. It is
her search for her lost family in later years, which takes her through Germany, America
and ultimately lands her at Israel, in the middle of the Israel-Palestine conflict.

It was the year 1995. Passing through Goripalya, a densely-populated area where
underprivileged Hindus and Muslims live in close proximity in narrow lanes and bylanes,
I noticed a small inscription that read: Jewish Burial Ground. It was next to a Muslim
cemetery.

Curious, I stepped into the cemetery. I found tombs buried deep in the ground, covered by
thick grass, bearing inscriptions in Hebrew. Some of them a hundred years old! I was
surprised, as at that time I did not know that there was any Jewish Community in
Bangalore. There was no synagogue in Bangalore and even today there is none. It took
me almost two years, to trace the history of Jewish Community in Bangalore which
thrived at one time during the British rule and moved out of India, after the formation of
Israel in 1948.

As a former student of the city’s prestigious Indian Institute of Science, I knew that Sir
C.V. Raman, the Nobel laureate in physics, had persuaded some Jewish scientists fleeing
Hitler’s tyranny to come to this institute in Bangalore.

Standing amidst the tombs, a sudden vision passed through my mind. I could see a Jewish
scientist fleeing Nazi Germany, arriving in Bangalore with his little daughter Hannah. In
that instant, I realised, this is the story of my Novel that was waiting to happen.
Over the next eight years, I researched my story in depth. First, I visited various places in
India, where there was large Jewish population for hundreds of years! By 1997, I had
saved up enough to visit Germany, where my story unfolds. I traveled to Berlin, Munic
and visited the Dachau Nazi camp, where 32,000 Jews had lost their life.

Again I could save enough money. In 2001, I made a trip to the Holocaust Museum in
Washington D.C. and the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles, where I could meet some
of the survivors.

Finally, in 2002, I found myself in front of the ‘Wailing Wall’ at Jerusalem in Israel,
where my novel reaches its climax.

Yes, I could feel the conflict in the air. The same week I was at Tel Aviv, a suicide bomber
exploded in a Dan bus. From the balcony of Dan Panorama Hotel, where I stayed, I could
see a lot of elderly people lighting lamps and putting flowers, near the beach, where a
suicide bomber had exploded in a disco, killing young teenagers. And that was also the
week, Israeli raids left 13 dead in Gaza and amid an outpouring of anger and grief and
vows of revenge, Palestinians buried the people killed in the Israeli military operations in
the Gaza Strip, including a helicopter missile strike in the middle of a residential street
that was crowded with people who had left their homes following an incursion by Israeli
tanks.

Here I was at Jerusalem, the center of the three world religions. Entering the Old City of
Jerusalem was an enthralling experience. It is the only place in the world where some of
the holiest shrines of the three great Semitic religions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam,
can be seen together. Emerging from an ancient Arab marketplace I entered a large open
area where Jewish people were praying before the historical Wailing Wall. Behind the
Wall is the Dome of the Rock Mosque, it is believed that from this place Prophet
Mohammed flew to the heaven. Opposite the Wall is one of Christianity’s holiest Shrines,
the Church of the Holy Sepulchre – the site of the Crucifixion and Resurrection of Christ.

Hanna had traveled long in the wilderness and had arrived at the ‘promised land’. She is
in her homeland, that she had longed for decades… but is she feeling ‘homely’?

In Berlin, she had seen ‘the wall’ come down. Here was the concrete barrier
separating East Jerusalem from the West Bank. Can conflict and terror be fenced
off?

She finds the truth about her mother, sister and brother. But she finds a greater truth. In
the 20th century, Hitler was born in Germany. Today, he could be born anywhere – in
America, in Israel, even in India, which professed non-violence. Without killing the
Hitler in our heart, can we really say ‘Never Again’. The ‘final solution’ can never be
war.

Can ‘iron walls’ keep one safe? Why does History has this uncanny habit of repeating
itself? Can manpower, money and munitions win the wars? After winning a hundred
battles and with all the sophisticated war machinery, why are we still afraid to go to the
beach, to the mall, to board a bus? And after winning a hundred battles, we find that there
are over a hundred more around us.

The path to peace may be long and winding, may pass through the political wilderness,
but we still need to take that path, as peace may be the only option and is the essence of
life and today has become essential for life to survive on this planet.

Hanna sees the slender rays of hope that penetrate the dark clouds that hover above the
blood-soaked holy land. This was the story of my Kannada Novel Yad Vashem.

Last year I revisited Palestine and Israel, as I am re-writing the novel in English
now.

Three years back, a Canadian Jewish lady who was visiting India, came to know about
my novel and landed at Bangalore to meet me. It was late in the evening. She wanted to
see the cemetery, I took her there and introduced this Muslim family who is taking care
of the Jewish burial ground. She was so much touched. It was dark in the graveyard and it
was past 9 pm and there was no electricity. The Muslim lady and her daughters brought
out kerosene lamps and held them close to each of the tombstones, as she clicked the
photos. As I watched the face of this Jewish lady and the Muslim woman together lit up
in the yellow light of the smoking kerosene lamp- I just felt world could still be saved.
Peace would find its way into our hearts and homes.

For me India still remains a country of possibilities. It is possible for a Muslim family to
care for a Jewish cemetery, as it is done at Bangalore. It is possible for a Jewish family to
care for a Muslim family. It is possible for Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Jains to live
together even under the most trying times and deprived conditions. Places like Goripalya
which are there in every city, for me symbolise that spirit – the spirit of the ordinary
people of India.

Some time back, a young journalist who wanted to know about the Jews of Bangalore,
read my article in this book, rang up and said ‘it is incredible that a Muslim family is
taking care of a Jewish cemetery’. I said ‘it is sad that we have come so far away from
our true self, that the most natural thing, like living harmoniously like humans seems
incredible’.

The voices of peace and sanity need to be heard and highlighted.

World is torn apart by macho men waging war- we need to think from the heart to
unlearn hatred.

What can literature do in trying times of terror and war; I really do not know for sure. But
I do believe in power of one, power of individual and also power of literature. And
instead of cursing the darkness, to light a little lamp, that may remove the darkness in our
heart, in our home and may be in our lane, and who knows the darkness of the whole
world.

Once, Pablo Neruda was asked ‘Why did you want to write?’ He replied ‘I wanted
to be a voice’. I am sure we want to be a voice.

I would like to end my inaugural address, quoting from Mother Theresa. She said ‘If we
have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other’. Thanks
for the warmth and welcome that you extended to me. For me Goa would always remain
a place where we keep reminding ourselves that we belong to each other and we belong
to the same world. Thanks once again.