Video of Children’s story from India, Viku and the Elephant

When Steve Medellin helped me produce a YouTube video of my children’s story, Viku and the Elephant, he asked me to tell a little about the story. I was not sure whether my voice would be the best for this purpose, but he insisted. Within a few hours of uploading the video, my son called me from Seattle, telling me that his Godson, Zack, who just became five, loved the video and wanted him to show the video again and again. This is what I had wished would happen with this video, that children would like it.

Here is the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6uUE17Bb-n4

A picture is worth a thousand words. This has truly come through from Zack’s reaction.

Photo credit: Martha Tanner

Launching a Flower Boat in the Teton Creek

  

           The morning after my book signing at Dark Horse Books, my friends Drs. Dieter and Peggy Knecht took Catherine and me out for a short hike in the Tetons. We walked over a bridge on a fast running stream where just a few weeks before, Dieter told us, the flood waters were on the bridge. We hiked on and came to the stream again – this time the flow was a little more subdued.
            “We can launch a flower boat here,” Dieter said.

            Astonished I asked, “Did you already read ‘Viku and the Elephant’?”

            “He finished the book before going to bed last night,” Peggy answered.

            “In that case, certainly we have to float a flower boat,” I chuckled.

            “And we’ll also look for an elephant,” Dieter said.

            I have introduced the flower boat ceremony in the book because that is the loveliest worship service I have seen. What else could the parents, who live near a jungle, do when their son does not return home at night? The tropical jungle is dangerous with ferocious tigers on land and nasty crocodiles in the river. In my mind, they had no choice but to ask for help from the River Goddess. And the only way they could do that is by sending a flower boat to her. You can read this chapter of my book ‘Viku and the Elephant’ here:

http://www.botreehouse.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=53:viku-and-the-elephant-chapter-vi&catid=34:books-fiction&Itemid=64

            I first saw the flower boat ceremony in Haridwar (Gateway to God) and was immediately impressed. We came there somewhat tired after our hike to the source of the Ganges River, but the ceremony lifted our spirits and gave us the energy to see more of India. Haridwar is just below Rishikesh (about an hour away) where the Ganges River comes down from the Himalayas and meets the plains – a place made famous in the West by the Beetles, but in India it was always known to people and the monks as a serene place for quiet meditation.  

Flowers are used in all Hindu ceremonies, but launching a flower boat, especially in the Ganges River, is a very special ceremony. This worship service is not common and is done with devotion particularly in Haridwar and Varanasi (Banaras), the two most holy cities in India. There are many priests who will help you with this worship, but you don’t have to have one. In the old days, people made their own flower boats with leaves and flowers, but now one buys a boat from one of the many vendors. A little earthen lamp or a candle is kept in the middle of the leaf-boat and it is lit before putting the boat in the water. In the evening people gather at the Shiva temple in Haridwar near the clock tower, and as it becomes dark, they start a chorus of Aarti song. The whole area soon reverberates with the song. Sweet sounds of Bells and some drums float on the evening breeze. People put their flower boats in the water and the river becomes crowded with them – each candle-lit boat glowing in the dark. The entire river lights up, creating a beautiful sight and lifting everyone’s heart. A glowing stream of lights moves down the river. The chorus goes on: “Om, Jaya Jagadisha Hare …” Om, glory to the Lord of the universe … 

If you are in Haridwar, you must not miss it. In Varanasi you can hire a boat and see the ceremony from the river, but this misses out on the direct experience of the pilgrims. Even though the river banks are crowded with pilgrims, it is nice to be among them. You then become a part of the ceremony and can feel the devotion of all. In the midst of the crowd in Haridwar I felt the spontaneous worship of the people – expressing their own sincere devotion to the Higher Power. When it is all over, silence comes down on the place, stars become visible in the sky, and you hear only the constant flowing sound of the river. You put a little Ganges water on your head and head home; you have done the best worship service you will ever do in your life. 

Remembering the experience, I gathered some leaves and stitched them together with little twigs, filled the leaf-boat up with wild flowers and launched it for the Teton River Goddess. The strong current of the stream took the flower boat down immediately, and it overturned, but that didn’t matter. We were all happy that we were able to offer a flower boat to the Teton Creek. Next time we will bring a candle and a match.

Photo credit: Dieter Knecht

Sacredness in “Viku and the Elephant”

My children’s book Viku and the Elephant has emphasized sacredness of graveyards more than once. 

“That’s their sacred place,” Viku said, “You must not go there!” 
 

The story also talks about, although very gently and casually, the idea of acceptance of death. “When an elephant grows old and knows that his time has come, he says goodbye to his family and friends and goes there. It is a sacred place for elephants.”

This says three things: (1) death is inevitable for all – humans and other creatures, (2) death should not be feared but accepted as part of life, and (3) other beings, such as elephants, could have a sacred place for their dead. 

Graveyards are the final resting places of the deceased – whether animals or human beings. These are extraordinary places and shouldn’t be disturbed, taken advantage of or looted. As you read the book, you will find that, even as a young boy, Viku shows great respect for graveyards. Viku’s words also reflect my thinking. I feel sad when robbers steal from graveyards or researchers go deliberately to excavate ancient tombs as if these things of the old culture don’t mean anything anymore. Displaying items from tombs in museums as objects of curiosity has a bad ring to it. 

How do you teach children what is sacred? Sacred is something of great veneration. Usually it has some connection to the past, to some events of significance or a place where wisdom was found. To many it has some connection to divinity, coming from their religion. It is a place that makes you automatically quiet and introspective and lets you think of your own life in a broader perspective. 

Different religions have different views about what happens after death. We are not discussing that here. What we are concerned with is the memorial place where one’s loved one’s remains or their ashes are kept. For most, this is a sacred place, a place of remembrance and continuity in their lives. That is how these places become holy and should remain so. After Gautama Buddha’s death, his body was cremated and the ashes were distributed to many who built Stupas (memorial structures) around his remains. These Stupas became holy places – places of pilgrimage.  

Even though I wrote the book, I am always moved when I read these lines. I hope through Viku and Haatee’s story the children will find some feeling of what sacred is.  

How old is Viku’s in “Viku and the Elephant”

I was telling Viku’s story to a group of children and parents in a campout in Kamas, Utah. It was late morning on a warm day and we sat in a shady grove. I finished the first chapter and the children asked several questions and they answered some themselves. When I was about to start the second chapter, a young mother asked, “How old is Viku?” She was in a hurry – she had to leave to catch a plane. She wanted to have this information so she could later explain the story well to her daughter.

Debu Majumdar telling Viku story to children and parents

Kamas Campout, Utah, July 24, 2011

          

The thing is that I deliberately didn’t mention Viku’s age in the book. He was 11 years old in my mind, but I didn’t write it. Viku is a hero and I wished that anyone who reads the book or hears the story would like to associate himself or herself with Viku. Age will spoil the association. The book is meant for a wide age group from 4 year-olds to 11. If you are five, it is hard to fancy being eleven. However, you can always imagine that the hero is just like you, certainly of your age, and in fact the hero is you. This way all, even the adults, can imagine they are Viku as they read the story. This makes reading a book fascinating.

One reviewer of “Viku and the Elephant,” Susan Seefeldt, from Fairbanks, Alaska has written that “In addition to showing the friendship, loyalty, and bravery involved in Viku’s relationship with the elephants, the story gives the reader a chance to vicariously fulfill a dream that a fair number of children might have (including myself, now as an adult and as a child). Who wouldn’t love to have an elephant for a best friend, who lowers his trunk down specifically so you can climb up and ride around on him? And who listens to you, the child, and not the grown-ups! Whereas Horton, Dumbo, and Babar (lovable as they may be) are elephants one might want to befriend, one does not encounter them in their natural habitats, so there is always an element of the unreal lurking in the background. This heightens the vicarious experience of the reader.”

The young mother agreed with my idea (that Viku is of the age of the young-at-heart reader) and satisfied, she left for Germany with a new book in her hand. 

Compassion, Buddhism and “Viku and the Elephant”

Yesterday at the Whinery, two good friends and I were discussing compassion in Buddhism. What does compassion mean when your partner, companion, or friend does something that hurts you? You wish to punch him and throw him out of your life. What would the Dalai Lama advise us here?  

I thought of my book, Viku and the Elephant, which embodies ideas from Buddhism. In the story the zoo guards were ready to shoot an old elephant, but against the cautions and shouts of the people, Viku boldly walked toward the supposedly-rogue elephant. He could see that the elephant was not mad; he was only distraught for some reason. He talked with him in his special sign language that only elephants understand, calmed him down and saved him. This was Viku’s compassion. Others were only willing to let the elephant be killed to solve a problem – without understanding it. We often do the same thing in our daily life, with our family and friends, and in politics. We lack compassion.

Viku did what Gautama Buddha had preached. Viku was compassionate on two levels: he simply didn’t go to the elephant to be compassionate and stand before him to protect him so the police will have to kill him first; he understood that there is a deeper cause for the elephant’s behavior. To understand compassion we have to walk in the other person’s shoes. Compassion is not simply doing something to make one happy or ignoring bad behavior or actions, or offering your other cheek; it has an intellectual part to it. Only when you understand the reasons and the situation of the other individual, can you truly be compassionate. Superficial, emotional actions may arise from compassion, but that may not solve a problem.  

So when your friend hurts you, be bold and have a chat with him, tell him your feelings and if he remains the same, you may need to move on to grow in your own life. It will be painful and that way you are also taking on his suffering, but this will be compassion.

The Dalai Lama wrote In “The Essence of the Heart Sutra”:

“According to Buddhism, compassion is an aspiration, a state of mind, wanting others to be free from suffering. It’s not passive – it’s not empathy alone – but rather an empathetic altruism that actively strives to free others from suffering. Genuine compassion must have both wisdom and loving kindness. That is to say, one must understand the nature of the suffering from which we wish to free others (this is wisdom), and one must experience deep intimacy and empathy with other sentient beings (this is loving kindness).”

Rebecca M. Johnson School’s 5th grader’s imaginative new endings for “Viku and the Elephant”

My children’s book “Viku and the Elephant” has discussion questions at the end of the book. The 5^th grade students of 2010 Milken National Award Winning teacher, Roni Gold, in Springfield, Massachusetts discussed them after reading the book in the class, and some have sent me their ideas for the last question: “Can you imagine a different ending for the story?” It is wonderful to see their imaginations take the story down a different path.  

Many of them felt compassion for the bad guys and wanted to reform them. In spite of so much violence on TV, many didn’t want anyone to get killed. This message from these young students is most fascinating. 

Simone and Diamond wants Viku’s elephant friend, Haatee, to be adopted by his family as a pet. 

Some want the Royal Bengal Tiger to help Viku and Haatee get the bad guys. Damahya writes, “Only this time the Bengal Tiger would have Viku and Haatee’s backs and attack the thieves. Viku and Haatee will be safe.” He wants the Bengal Tiger to become a friend of Viku and Haatee. Imagine what these three friends, a boy, an elephant and a tiger, could do in the forest!

In an early draft of the story, I didn’t write what Viku’s parents did when he didn’t return home in the evening. I knew what a parent would do here, but what can Viku’s parents do? So I wrote the chapter with the flower boat. The same question came to me for Viku: shouldn’t Viku think of his parents? It is such a pleasure to see similar feelings come from a student. Damahya wants Viku and Haatee to send a banana leaf boat to Viku’s parents with a note that they are safe. 

Selena wants a little more action near the end (I think she has the potential to be a movie director). She could visualize scenes as they happen: a crocodiles snaps and bites the leader. The leader tries to shoot the crocodile but forgets to put bullets in his gun so the men get eaten and die. Viku and his elephant stare at the men being eaten; then they say ‘forget about it’ and just leave and go on.

Wilfredo wants the ivory thieves to build houses and have spears to protect themselves and last longer (but he thinks they will eventually die of hunger and thirst). Khamarii imagines the thieves climbing trees and staying there, until Viku and Haatee go there. The thieves would agree to turn themselves in if Viku and Haatee do not let the alligators eat them. Debboney wants the same thing: that the ivory thieves cry for help and agree to do whatever Viku and Haatee want. Miori thinks that the alligators “who eat the guys would spit the guys out on the shore alive and the thieves promise to never try to find the graveyard again.”

Raquel wanted the crocodile to let go of the guard after chewing off one leg.

Ebonee has the most appealing ending of the story. It would be the perfect epilogue of the children’s story. She says: “Viku and Haatee get rewarded for bravery and started something to help protect elephant graveyards and other animals.” She also would not let the ivory thieves die. The two men would be found and put in jail. They would be put to do good work to help keep the elephant graveyard safe. And Viku would go on telling his great adventure stories to his family and friends.

I cannot imagine a better interaction with the children. The book was worth writing. However, my dear reader, I must tell you that the story has no violence as it may seem to you from reading this. So go on and read it and let me know how you will imagine a different ending.

I learned one thing from these responses: We sometimes think that in the modern age with all the violent video games, books of magic and fantasy, children will be different, but what I find is they are the same as children were in past generations.

 

Appreciating authors and“VIku and the Elephant”

Yesterday, I went to The Whinery in Idaho Falls, where friends of Drinking Liberally met. We gathered on the back patio under a clear sky with trees in view in the background; a blowing cool breeze kept us cool. As requested, I brought a few copies of my new children’s book, Viku and the Elephant. Crystal was the first to buy one immediately. She said, “I love to read children’s books.” She took out her check book. I told her the price. She handed me a check.

“Oh, you wrote more than the price,” I exclaimed.

            “Yes, I know. That is for the author.”

            I looked at her smiling face and could not but admire her support of an author. 

The literary world is in New York, over 2000 miles away and certainly not in Idaho. Rarely does one know or think of an author in Idaho. It is not that there are none, and in fact, considering the density of population, Idaho has quite a few authors and many aspiring writers. But the problem is getting published. 

Crystal reminded me of Brad Maxfield, an excellent poet whom I met in Idaho Falls when he taught poetry at Idaho State University. He told me of a personal incident. He sent out a few of his poems for publication in East coast journals, but got rejected. Hearing this, his friend who was at Princeton asked him to send him his poems. This friend then sent out the poems from his address for publication – they got published. You judge the significance of this incidence. I always remember the story because of its sadness and the reality of the publishing world. His first book of poetry, For All We Know, has recently been published by Backwaters Press in Omaha, NE. 

So this morning, my hat is off to Crystal in appreciation of an author in Idaho.