It was a dream come true. I ventured into writing children’s books because I couldn’t find any children’s picture books that featured Naga characters or places to read to my own children. One can ask or try to persuade other writers only so many times to fill that gap. So, I wrote my first picture book titled Ukepenuopfü, a retelling of an Angami origin myth, with my own ‘masala’. Locally, it was a great success because it allowed many parents and children to see themselves and their lifeworld in a book for the first time. When Sayoni Basu asked if I could write a book set in Nagaland, I jumped at the chance of giving, through Wrestling Day, not only Naga kids, but kids in India and elsewhere a glimpse of my beautiful home town and her culture.
Your treatment of a subject that is often considered hyper-masculine and aggressive is so tender. Aneingu, the boy who is going to make his debut as a wrestler, is upset because he forgets to carry his mother’s shawl with him. His cousin Ashiü says, “It is believed that if you wear your mother’s shawl when you wrestle, it brings strength and protection.” What got you excited to write this story?
It is very gratifying to hear your assessment. Thank you! Traditionally, Naga wrestling was most definitely an exclusively male sport but it did not mean that women did or do not participate in other ways – whether it is mothers, sisters and wives supporting wrestlers, or the many ways women contribute to the staging of matches. Wrestling is very much a community event – one that thrives on the synergy of men and women working together. I wanted to capture that through my story by having two little girls ‘rescue’ their cousin, whom they clearly idolise. I was deeply moved that one of Naga wrestling’s all-time greats, Kezhalelie Keretsü, picked up on this theme when he read my book Wrestling Day. At the Kohima launch, he delivered a touching speech about the role women in his life had played to make him the great wrestler he was.
The book uses a lot of non-English words, trusting readers to get the meaning from the context instead of giving them a glossary. This is quite rare in children’s books. What was the thought process behind this?
It was a decolonial thought process. If we imagine stories in their original form and intent – as oral – language is the most visceral way for the listener to get a feel of a people or culture. As children, we were taught to address elders using vernacular terms. I teach my children the same. It’s the most intimate way of connecting with someone. As a poet, I’m always thinking about what my words ‘sound’ like, what kind of effect they create. When I write my stories, I also imagine them being spoken – if this story was being read out, it would sound so unnatural for a little girl in Kohima village to call her paternal uncle, ‘Uncle’, the terms Aphfüzhao, Apfüzao etc, indicate kinship with an intricacy that English cannot match. And objects like Mesü – a water vessel made from dried gourd shells — don’t exist elsewhere, so it felt right to offer a new word to the lexical melee that is the English language.
You use social media to promote indigenous textiles. How was the experience of working with illustrator Rishita Loitongbam on the clothes that your characters wear?
Sayoni Basu, my editor at Duckbill Books, proposed a quirky method of putting Wrestling Day together. She matched with an illustrator, but we would communicate through her and not directly. I am passionate about textiles, and a lot of my research went into the illustrations of my previous book Ukepenuopfü as well. I brought that same attention to detail in the images and information that I shared with Rishita. I love the fact that Rishita understood the cultural and political importance of representing the attire of the characters accurately. Apart from that, her illustrations of places in and around Kohima, were thoughtfully nuanced and I commend her for that. Praise for her illustrations features in most of the feedback that I get from local readers, especially about how they were moved to see our town life in our book.
