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.

Bo and Bodhi in “Viku and the Elephant”

The children’s book “Viku and the Elephant” was published by Bo-Tree House, so during my book signings, several people have asked me what Bo means. 

Bo-tree is short for Bodhi tree, a common tree in India and South Asia. It is the tree under which Siddhartha Gautama Buddha received enlightenment 2600 years ago and made the tree famous. The small publishing company that published this book draws inspiration from this triumph of one man and is established on the image of this ancient but still flourishing Bodhi tree. I have been to the spot under the Bo-tree where the Buddha sat and meditated. Its heart-shaped leaves have inspired me all my life. I couldn’t but include a line in the story that says:

“Tired and hungry, he [Viku] sat down under a large Bodhi tree with heart-shaped leaves.”  

The Bo-tree is very special to me. It is a tree of awakening and I hope this little children’s book will inspire many children to search for knowledge and truth.

Ganesh and "Vike and the Elephant"

Kristen Gazaway, who is exploring whether to run for the U.S. President as an independent candidate, has asked me why I didn’t name the boy in “Viku and the Elephant” Ganesh. Ganesh or Ganesha is very well known in India as the elephant-headed god. He is worshipped by Hindus at the beginning of all ceremonies because he is the god of success. Before every worship service, every day before businessmen open their shops, and before starting a journey, Hindus pay homage to Ganesh first. 

Having the elephant head and the body of a human, Ganesh should understand elephants extremely well, which is what the boy in the story does. Why didn’t I then name him after Ganesh? Viku is an ordinary boy in a poor laborer family. I could say that they would not think of naming their son after a god. Here people would not name a son after Jesus although there is no barrier to that. But that is not true in India and in some Spanish cultures. Indians often name their children after gods and goddesses. However, I think, subconsciously the mythological story of how Ganesh received his elephant head stopped me. Let me tell you a gist of the legend.

While the great god, Lord Shiva, was away, with her divine power his wife, the goddess mother of the world, created a handsome son for company. She asked him to guard the house and not let anyone in until she was done with her bath. In the mean time and without any notice, Lord Shiva showed up at the door and wanted to come in, but her son, Ganesh, guarded the door. Shiva didn’t recognize Ganesh and was naturally annoyed at the impudent boy and asked for entrance again. Ganesh told him his mother had ordered him to guard the door and he would not let anyone in so long as he was alive. At this Shiva became so angry that he chopped off Ganesh’s head and barged in to the house. When the goddess mother saw what Shiva had done, she was very angry and demanded that Shiva restore her son’s life. In order to placate his angry wife, Shiva asked his attendant to get the head of a living being immediately – whoever he could find first. The attendant met an elephant and brought its head to Shiva. Shiva then restored the boy’s life with the elephant’s head and, to make up for the mess he had created, gave Ganesh the blessing that he would be revered as the god who removes obstacles and be worshipped first – before all other gods. To this day, all Hindu worship services begin with prayers to Ganesh.

This is a tall story and I wanted to write a simple tale of an ordinary boy. So the thought did not occur to me to associate my little boy with the important god of India who also happens to be the patron deity of all writers.  

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

For more info on "Viku and the Elephant" please go to the Publisher at www.botreehouse.com or Amazon.com

How Viku, in the book “Viku and the Elephant,” got his name

May 18, 2011: During the announcement of publication of my children’s story, “Viku and the Elephant,” at the Idaho Falls Public Library, Matthew, a 4^th grader, asked me how I came up with the name Viku. It was a very good question. I was surprised by his wonderful courage at a gathering where there were many adults: teachers, a principal of an elementary school, the librarian, several writers, parents, friends, even my aquatic aerobics instructor, and a few other children and grandchildren that accompanied them. I have known Matthew for two years; he is a quiet, intelligent boy with large dreamy eyes. His question was a true delight.

In India, most people have two names – one is called the good name, a name they get when they have their first solid-food, which is eaten during a special ceremony (Annaprasan) at the age of nine months to a year old. This name becomes their official name. Traditionally, Indians do not give an official name to a child when born, as is done in the West. This is because in the olden days many children died early in life. All children, however, get a nickname, and often are called by that name for the rest of their lives. My twin sister’s nickname is Chhobi (“picture”), because she was a beautiful baby, and I was called Lattu (“spinning top”). You can imagine why they called me “spinning top”, something that goes round and round – I must have been a very busy little boy. The formal names – the good names – are often big, heavy, serious, and difficult to pronounce and used mostly in official papers, and, for many, not so much in everyday life.

Viku didn’t have a good name. I didn’t even imagine a good name for him. He was Viku as soon as he was born in my mind and remained so.

Matthew sent me back to my childhood when I first heard about a legendary King named Vikram. Vikram is a Sanskrit word, meaning “brave.” He was a wise king – valorous and magnanimous, and he willingly faced dangers in order to save his subjects. You may have read or heard of the book Vikram and the Vampire, which describes many of his adventures.

Like Jeffrey becomes Jeff, Viku is a nickname that comes from Vikram. In India the “u” sound serves the same purpose as the ee or y sound serves in the west (Cathy, Scotty, etc.). Vik could also be his name from Vikram, but that does not sound Indian and to me, Viku is more affectionate.

So, Viku in the story got his name from Vikram, the great king. Therefore, expect Viku to be brave and a very good person like King Vikram. Now you read the story and tell me if he is.

----------------------

For more info on "Viku and the Elephant" please go to the Publisher at www.botreehouse.com or Amazon.com