Cast as Mother

It's weird how your life changes when you become a mother who opts to stay at home and give up her day job. The well meaning questions you get asked range from 'So what do you do all day?' to... well... to no questions at all from people you used to know in your old life but who've moved on.

When I've been asked what I do all day these past so many months I've been able to say that I've been writing my second book. But that's a cop out really. Staying at home to look after your child or children is a full time job. I could only write because my own mum took up baby-sitting duties. "Behind every successful woman is another woman looking after her children!" That was a line from the 300 page bi-lingual manuscript titled 'Cast as Mother' which had us all in stitches of laughter last evening but which struck such a chord with many - certainly with me. And that too was just one line from many that rang so true.

The play, which will be on the boards in September, was preceded last night by a series of readings and skits that showed how this manuscript came to be. Thirteen women who either gave up or still struggle with their careers on the stage as they strive to be good mothers wrote about their experiences in a set of fourteen exercises over a period of a year and a half. The result - a rich reservoir of stories that are poignant and strikingly honest.

The essence for me was how in this so called enlightened age becoming a stay-at-home mother can be such a life-changing experience - a culture shock even. For instance in your old life you may have been a highly qualified woman holding down a high-pressure job that earned you a certain degree of respect and power in your social circles. But become a stay-at-home mum and suddenly the people you interact with - from nursery school principals to pediatricians to some old friends - make you feel like you've had part of your brain removed and need to take in things nice and slow or be told things on a need-to-know basis only.

Last night's readings from 'Cast as Mother' were a delicious and unapologetic romp into the world of motherhood - with the audience laughing their way through some of the most traumatic, pressing and embarrassing issues that mums face. That it was not self-indulgent as it could so easily could have been was a tribute to this brilliant team of writers and the actors who brought their stories to life.

Roll on September! I can't wait to see the complete production!

The 'local adventures' bookshelf

I had a thoroughly enjoyable morning with some amazingly creative girls this weekend. We looked at narrative techniques, character and plot... when we weren't laughing our heads off at the outlandish story outlines that were being workshopped!

One thing that made everyone sit up and think was what to put on an imaginary bookshelf labelled 'Sri Lankan adventure stories (in English) for children'. Madol Duwa... yes, but that was first published in 1947 in Sinhala. What else? Hmmmm...

As I had hoped some of the girls have now decided to fill up our imaginary bookshelf with their own stories. I can't wait to see the results! Let's wish them luck!    

Bullies

A friend of mine had a nasty experience recently. She was watching her toddler in a toddler's swimming class rather anxiously because this time there was a rather boisterous little boy who had joined the lesson. The boy's mother sat next to her laughing at how her son never listens to anyone.

The instructor put the kids on a float and for some reason dived underwater. In that moment the boisterous little boy bounced on the float sending my friend's child and another flying into the water. The instructor came up, saw the kids in the water, grabbed one of the children put him on the float and then went for my friend's child who was still underwater.

By that time my friend was at the pool. Soothing her obviously terrified child she thought she had never been so happy to hear him cry.

As if this experience wasn't bad enough she was joined in the changing room by the boisterous child's mum who laughed at the incident and said that my friend should teach her son to hang on tighter! My friend who had already obviously had a huge shock turned around and said that maybe she should teach her son to listen to instructions.

Immediately the other woman started loudly accusing my friend of blaming a toddler for what happened - which was not what she had said. She followed my friend right out of the changing rooms making a huge scene. None of the other parents stood up for my friend or even said a word to her but they all patted her son and told him to come back again. My friend just fled to have a good cry and get over the shock of it all.

I think the other woman felt guilty about everything and to stop any accusations coming her way deliberately provoked a (rather one-sided) fight. It's the typical strategy of a bully. Make bystanders feel either too intimidated to get involved or coerce them into siding with the bully. Fortunately the other parents did not side with her. But their inaction made my friend feel isolated and miserable.

I am not sure I would have been brave enough to speak up if I had seen this happening to a stranger. What would you have done?

Corporal punishment for children

The standard response for bad behaviour in boys schools in the 1940s and 50s seems to have been a caning - usually on the spot, sometimes during assembly. I wonder how long this practice prevailed and how prevalent it is today in Sri Lanka?
I know a teacher of a girls school who used to punish wrong-doers by hitting them on their palms with the sharp side of a foot ruler - ouch! This was in the '80s.

Someone to Love Us

It's hard to imagine that until 1948 there was no systematic safety net for children in care. Not in England anyway - I don't know how it was in Sri Lanka. It took the death of 13 year old Dennis O'Neill at the hands of his foster parents - and the testimony of his 10-year old brother Terry - to stir up the nation.

In 2010 Terry wrote 'a non fiction' account of his childhood experiences and the book appears to have got some very positive reviews. It's on my wish list of books to read.

ARP Warden

During World War 2 we had air raid precaution wardens in Ceylon too. They were responsible for ensuring that people in their area knew where to go to if there was an air raid. They were also responsible for setting up first aid centres and ensuring that no lights could be seen on the ground to enemy aircrafts flying overhead at night.

There are many pictures of ARP wardens in England on the internet but none of those from the colonies. I seriously doubt that our ARP wardens wore dark blue overalls. An eye witness who was around 10 at the time remembers them wearing khaki shorts, short-sleeved shirts, wide brimmed hats and shoes with socks up to the knees! And the ARP arm bands of course.

I'll need to do some serious digging to find out.

Second story done!

I've written my next story and sent it off to the publisher!

This doesn't mean of course that we will see it in print any time soon. Assuming it is liked we then start on the long process of editing...

The narration in this book is a lot more complex than that of Mythil's Secret. The story too is a lot darker. So I think this book will be more suited for a readership of 13+ but lets see...

Meeting Mythil

I met a 10-year old called Mythil earlier this month and I was blown away at how strikingly like the character he was! Looks-wise they were almost identical. The Mythil I met also likes reading books and reads fast. He thinks a lot about stories and what goes into them. But there the similarity ends.
Whereas the Mythil in my book is a bit of a loner and an introvert the Mythil I met was a real live wire. He was leading the other boys in a series of experiments on a large fish in a glass tank. I think they were checking the fish's reaction time - much to its owner's dismay!
I think, that faced with the yaka on the tree this Mythil would not have run away. He would have climbed up the tree after the yaka - either chasing it away or cornering it to learn more about it!