‘Once upon a time ...’
When I was a little girl, these four magic words were enough to hook me and draw me into storybooks! I would forget everything else around me after that, and turn page after page, going wherever the story took me.
As soon as the summer vacations began, Papa would bring a box full of books and I cannot even begin to describe the excitement I felt.
As a child, I would spend hours lost in imaginary worlds created by the books I read
Stories I heard from mummy and papa, or native folk tales that my Dodda (Grandmother) and Ajja (Grandfather) narrated to me, when we went to stay with them during the lazy summer vacations each year. Stories that came alive in those vast green, lush fields, surrounded by coconut palms, the sound of rains and the aroma of wet earth.
Stories by Mummy
And Papa
Native folk tales by my
Dodda (Grandmother)
Moral stories by my
Ajja (Grandfather)
For me, stories are magical.
And this same magic was rekindled when my son, Rudra, was born. I was not only engaging him in the same way as my parents and grandparents, but I was always looking for ways to make these stories come alive in some way. I wanted him to be filled with the same wonder, curiosity and values that were passed down to me through incredible stories of kindness, bravery, honesty, friendship and so much more.
And that is when I gave birth to my second baby… Lotus Flute