A decade in Toronto - 15

Truly, the better half

Debra Black interviewing me for the Toronto Star was one of the highlights of 2012. Joyce Wayne, who had temporarily moved to a condominium on Queen Street W, introduced me to Debra, the immigration reporter of the Star. Debra and Joyce were neighbours. And all of us were a part of the group that Joyce had started – published, soon-to-be-published and aspiring authors – at Depanneur, a restaurant that specialised in artisan cuisine, in Little Portugal on Dundas Street West.

The original group comprised Joyce, David Panhale, Dawn Promislow, Jasmine D’Costa, David Cozac, and Leslie Shimotakahara. The group moved away from Depanneur into different restaurants along Dundas West when it began to grow, when Sang Kim, Ava Homa and Debra Black joined.  Unfortunately, with all such impromptu writers’ group, it disbanded without a murmur.

Debra interviewed me because I guess she found my experiences as a newcomer to Canada fascinating. The story created some waves – giving me my Warhol-adjudged 15 minutes of fame. I reread the interview while writing this blog, and I think Debra has done a great job getting me to talk in details about things that I'd not have talked about if she hadn't asked; things that a decade later seem sort of significant. 

If you’re interested in reading it, click here: Star write-up.

My association with the MG Vassanji's and Nurjehan Aziz's Festival of South Asian Literature and the Arts had widened my circle considerably. By now, I had a growing circle of writer friends and from other creative spheres such as theatre, the arts. These included Jasmine and Nitin Sawant, the husband-wife team that runs the SAWITRI theatre, producing some of the best South Asian theatre in Canada.

I’d met them the previous year at Rang Manch Canada’s multilingual theatre festival, and since then our camaraderie had grown. One of the most memorable performances that I’ve attended which SAWITRI produced in 2012 was Saree Kahaniyaan.  

Meena Chopra, the artist and poet, organised the launch of MG Vassanji’s The Assassin’s Song’s Hindi translation called Qatil Ke Geet under the auspice of the Hindi Writers’ Guild. The highlight of this well-attended program was the literary critique of the novel by Shailja Saxena and Sharan Ghai, the stalwarts of the Hindi Writers' Guild.

Munir Parvaiz, who was one of the committee members of the Festival of South Asian Literature and the Arts, gave me a Hindi translation of  Noor Zaheer's Urdu memoir about her father Sajjad Zaheer, an active member of the Communist movement in India, and one of the founders of Progressive Writers' Movement in India. Munshi Premchand presided over the first convention of the progressive writers in 1936.

Munir's Writers’ Forum organised a phone chat with Noor Zaheer, based in India. It was a fascinating conversation. Listening to Noor Zaheer speak about her father touched my heart – his simple message to his daughter was that there is no hardship or sacrifices in doing something you believe in. Sacrifice is only when you do something you have to, but don’t believe in.

VI Lakshmanan (better known as Lucky Lakshmanan) sent me through S. Kalyan Sundaram, a copy of the Prosperity and Peace for the Twenty-First Century by APJ Abdul Kalam. It is a compilation of the former President of India’s speeches.

I mention this here for two reasons – the first is I now work at the Canada India Foundation (CIF) and of course, the main reason is Kalam. He epitomizes the best of what India stands for and what it offered – a scholastic mixture of the science and culture, heritage and progress, inclusive ethos and forward thinking.

Kalam – the soft-spoken and the unassuming scientist – has given India and Indians a vision for the future – something that the country and its people could aspire to achieve if Indians put their mind to it. Read a passage from the book here: Tolerance.

Humber lecture

Two friends – Murali Murthy and George Abraham launched new ventures. Murali turned into a motivational coach and published several books. Murali supported me immensely during my initial years of struggle with the right sort of motivation.

George, who I’d known since our time together in Bombay as journalists, launched the New Canadian Media, an online news outlet that focused on the news of by for newcomers. It is one of the most significant contributions to Canadian media in recent times. Unfortunately, it's in dire need of funds and George is busy finding ways to keep it afloat.

Humber College invited me to address newcomers and give them career guidance. This was completely surprising. I was being considered an immigrant success story. 

In 2012, I also went to the reading series of the Shoe Project, a collection of memoirs of women immigrants about the shoes they wore (or brought with them) when they came to Canada. Katherine Govier, the novelist and activist, started working on the project in 2011 and produced the first reading series in 2012 at the Bata Shoe Museum. Two friends - Teenaz and Tanaz - were part of the project.

Those who have known me know that I’ve always admired MJ Akbar. I became a journalist reading non-stop Akbar’s Sunday magazine, his reportage, his coverage of the Hindi heartland of India, his books. In more ways than one would care to admit, he shaped journalism in India since the 1970s.

Anurag Chaturvedi, who’d worked with Akbar, had observed when Akbar launched the Asian Age that Aroon Puri (publisher of India Today) and Vineet Jain (publisher of Times of India) had proved that a publication doesn’t need an editor, and Akbar had proved that an editor didn’t need a publisher.

Akbar remained a must-read for me for over three-and-a-half decades, and this was despite the disquiet over his increasingly pro-BJP stance for many years. But my adulation ended abruptly and turned into an embarrassment when he formally joined the BJP as a spokesperson and then as a junior minister.

But before his saffronization, he visited Toronto to launch his book Tinder Box – The Past and Future of Pakistan. He delivered a talk at the Rotman School’s India Innovation Institute. He still came across as an unbiased historian (albeit who narrated history from an Indian perspective). 

I was to meet him again at the Munk Centre and got an opportunity to talk to him after his - expectedly - erudite lecture. I asked him to explain his pro-Modi stance.  He quoted the Qu'ran, and said the holy book of the Muslims identified three types of people - the believers, the non-believers and the hypocrites - the munafiqun, the group that is decried in Qu'ran as outward Muslim but who are secretly unsympathetic to the cause of Muslims and actively seek to undermine the Muslims community. Although he didn't explicate, it was clear to him where I belonged. And I was equally clear that given his newfound affection for the BJP, it was perhaps more applicable to him. 

That year, I also participated in a book discussion and launch of Rajiv Malhotra’s Being Different. Rajiv Malhotra is a controversial figure, standing resolutely to the right of the debate on India and all things Indian. His critics have accused him of plagiarism, and his supporters have hailed him as a saviour. I had the opportunity of talking to him briefly at the book launch held at the North York Centre’s city facility. He is a soft-spoken person who is convinced about his scholarship. But I found his book jargonic and unnecessary pedantic. 

With Che at the Malton bus terminal

2012 was also the centenary of Charles Dickens. There is no novelist greater than Dickens. The best novel ever is unquestionably Great Expectations.

And one of the most memorable events in our lives occurred in 2012. 


There are many reasons I'll remember Harpreet Sethi, but the number one reason why I will never forget him is that he invited Mahrukh to a program.

While inviting me to the launch of a fashion show that his entertainment company was organizing, and he insisted that my wife should accompany me. This was for the first time that anyone had invited Mahrukh. Ali took a photo of us together - it's one of the best of the two of us together. 

In September, while celebrating Che's birthday, we went did what we normally do - go on long bus rides. While waiting at the Malton bus terminal, Mahrukh took a photo of me and my son, which is one of my all time favourites. My son looks cool.

A decade in Toronto – 6

2009 was our first new year in Toronto and it began with a lot of promise. I started my program in journalism at the Sheridan College in Oakville. I was returning to school after a gap of over 25 years. The journalism class comprised students who were just like me – practising or former journalists from across the world who were trying to get a toehold in the profession in Canada.

It was ironic that after nearly two decades in journalism, both as a working journalist and as a teacher, I was returning to journalism as a student. But I was keen to learn and unlearn. The Sheridan college campus at Oakville was as impressive as any that I’d seen or imagined, and the most interesting part of it all was the daily commute from Toronto to Oakville on the GO train.

With Yoko, Nelson and Mike at Sheridan

The class comprised students from South America, the Caribbean, South Asia, Japan, and Africa - an interesting bunch of highly talented individuals, who were extremely independent-minded and like most journalists were not natural team players. 

Some became great friends during the duration of the course of the program. Yoko Morgenstern and Nelson Alvarado Jourde are friends I dearly miss.  Yoko is in Germany and visits Toronto infrequently, Nelson is back in Peru, and I haven’t met him in years.

With Yoko, Nelson, Mike and Joyce Wayne

The teachers were all equally interesting; Teenaz Javat is now a friend. She is a Bombayite who has had the privilege of working as a journalist in India and Pakistan. I have fond memories of Patricia Bradbury. She made the classroom come alive with her engaging, animated teaching. She also introduced us to Katherine Govier, the renowned and accomplished author, and now an activist for swifter, seamless integration of immigrants into the Canadian mainstream.

Of course, the hero of the program was Joyce Wayne, the program coordinator of the Canadian Journalism for Internationally Trained Journalists. A veteran professor, extremely well-read, a true heart liberal, with a permanent glint of mischief in her eyes, Joyce propelled the program to great heights and constantly challenged its participants to strive to do better.  One of my regrets (and I have many) was not to have done English literature at the university. With Joyce at Sheridan, I finally found a mentor who was as interested in literature as I am.

It was an evening program, so I had to change my shift timing and I returned to the night shift at the condo. After a while the hectic schedule became strenuous, and by April 2009, it was impossible for me to get enough sleep during the day, go to Sheridan in the evening, and then do the night shift at the condo. On a couple of occasions, the patrol who roamed around in a vehicle at night caught me napping.  I decided to quit my job as a security guard.

I was confident that at the end of the Sheridan program, I’d at least get an internship placement somewhere. A major lacuna in the Sheridan program was the absence of a design component. To complete that gap, I joined the Yorkdale Adult Learning Centre’s web designing program; a free program meant for newcomers.  It was an enriching experience. I was now spending several hours at a high school had both eager adult newcomer students and regular school students who were my son’s age.  

Yorkdale group

At Yorkdale, I met a bunch of fun-loving group of Latinos from South America. The classroom had students of all ages and from everywhere – Africa, South Asia, South America, Eastern Europe – all of us sharing a sort of desperation: of getting a proper job. I wrote about my encounter with two religiously devout fellow students.  Click here to read: Question of identity.

Around the same time, I also joined a memoir writing workshop conducted by Allyson Latta at the North York branch of the Toronto public library. After quitting my security guard job, I had the entire day free for myself. Latta’s class was a perfect fit for me; the sessions taught me to look inside myself for stories. Click here to read about Latta’s memoir writing sessions: Allyson Latta.

When Che turned 12, Mahrukh began working at a telemarketing company but was inexplicably laid off, despite doing well. Then, she worked as a data entry operator but the two-people company, operating from a basement on Dufferin and Lawrence disappeared when it was time to pay wages. She was singularly unfortunate in getting steady, sustainable employment; it caused her immense frustration, but she remained cheerful despite the adverse circumstances.

We didn’t let these reversals deter us from exploring our neighbourhoods. On weekends, we’d get into the GO bus or the GO train and go to different towns near Toronto. Even when we were still to know the lay of the land, we did an open-top bus ride in Toronto, within a month of our arrival. On my first birthday in Toronto, we went to the Niagara Falls; it was all that we thought it’d be, and then some.  The most memorable part of our trip: The butterfly garden; we’d never seen anything as exotic and exciting as this garden.  

For me, there can be nothing more exciting than riding the streetcars in the rains. We’ve done the Queen Street streetcar ride more frequently than we’d care to remember – all the way from Long Branch to Neville Park. That year (2009) we went to our first Toronto Auto Show and continued doing so for the next few years. 

When I recall the number of road trips that we did in our early years, the one that stays etched in my mind is the one to Stouffville, ON, to take rides on the model trains.  Click here to read about it: Day trip. Some years later, the federal government used extracts from this blog in its booklet for newcomers.

I was increasingly veering towards writing and started working on freelance assignments for the Canadian Immigrant and the New Canadian magazines. I had also begun work on improving and updating my short story that I’d written in December.  In May 2009, I sent the short story to Diaspora Dialogues, a Toronto not-for-profit that promotes creative expressions in diverse people. This simple act of courage (courage because rejections can be depressing) was to change my life.

Katherine Govier

Among the many people who have helped me make Canada my home is Katherine Govier,

renowned author and immigration activist. I first met her when I was a student at Sheridan College’s now defunct program in Canadian journalism for internationally qualified writers. Patricia Bradbury invited her to interact with students.

And with that uncanny knack that I have of turning near-perfect strangers into near-perfect enemies, we got off on a wrong start. But it was Katherine’s magnanimity that she overlooked my transgressions, and continued to extend a cordial but firm support.  

Her exquisite collection of short stories The Immaculate Conception Photography Gallery introduced me to her writing, and I was to discover that she began her career as a writer in 1979. Earlier this month, Katherine published her eleventh novel The Three Sisters Bar and Hotel.

In 2009 she started sending periodic Postcards to a select group of “correspondents”, and I was privileged to be amongst the recipients. Always personal, often idiosyncratic, these Postcards give a rare insight into the life of a prominent Canadian author.

Writing recently in her Postcards series, Katherine reminisced:

My first book, Random Descent, made its debut in February, 1979. The novel was hardcover, and priced at $12.99. I did a reading at 21 McGill Street with Robertson Davies, who taught me how to autograph:  you sat at a desk and your wife stood off to the left, ushering people into an orderly line and ensuring that each of them had one – and only one – freshly purchased book for signing.  You took a good quality fountain pen, opened the proffered book to the half title page, carefully crossed out your own name where it is printed under the title and with “by” above it, and wrote your signature in a beautiful, cursive script, before the awestruck crowd.

Ah yes, well much has changed.

In addition to be a renowned author, Katherine is an ardent advocate for newcomer integration into the Canadian mainstream, and has been working tirelessly for this cause.

About four years ago she launched the Shoe Project to create a platform for immigrant women to share their stories. 

Writing recently as a guest blogger on Gail Anderson-Dargatz’s blog, she explained her involvement with this path-breaking activism:

People ask me why I have taken on this work—why when I’m busy, why when I could be doing my own writing, why when I could be holidaying in Mexico, why when adult immigrants to Canada whose first language is, say, Tamil, are so difficult to coach as writers in English.

Here’s the reason: I love it. Meeting women aged 18, 30 or 65 from China, Croatia and Syria and Afghanistan and South Sudan and Brazil and Russia is huge fun. It’s travel without the security lineups; instead of at Pearson Airport I’m lining up for the butcher at 5 am in Poland in the 1980’s in minus twenty degree Fahrenheit weather—and I’ve got Relaks boots on my feet. (Look it up!)…

The Shoe Project is literacy. The novel is literary. These are considered in our country to be two entirely different things.

I’d like to introduce a new thought: this distinction is a form of discrimination. It is like racism. The writing of a person who does not use the correct adverb or misses the past tense of a verb or chooses a generality because she doesn’t have the broad vocabulary of a native English speaker is deemed not publishable, not artistic, not worthy of support of the literary establishment, the granting agencies, not worthy of the time spent to fix it by newspapers or radio. It is pushed downwind into “literacy”— which means “there are ESL issues”; it doesn’t count, and can’t be published. But with advice from peers around a workshop table, coaching, editing, and copyediting- which, frankly, native English speakers need too- That same story becomes vital, informative and urgently to the point. Great stories get lost between languages.

We’re all in this together. And here’s another thought: new writers bring new readers.”

The Three Sisters is a “story of an unlikely marriage, a century of a life in a mountain park, and a collection of runaway aristocrats, wildlife artists and cowboys who made history — but did not make it into the history books.”

The launch event at Ben McNally bookshop in downtown Toronto was a grand success. 

Recently, I interviewed Katherine and two Shoe Project participants on my show Living Multiculturalism. Here's the video of the interview:

Images: 

http://www.gailanderson-dargatz.ca/cms/index.php/blogs/guest-blogs/35-guest-blogs/264-katherine-govier

http://www.harpercollins.ca/9781443436649/the-three-sisters-bar-and-hotel

A writer must follow inner criteria: Yoko Morgenstern

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Q & A with Yoko Morgenstern, author, translator 

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Yoko's novel Double Exile, published by Red Giant Books, will be released on July 22 at The Japan Foundation, Toronto

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            Q. Your novel is unique in many ways because it walks along a precarious razor's edge by attempting to portray the helplessness of most Germans under the Nazi regime, and the fact that they had little choice but to support the regime. What inspired you to adopt such a bold theme?

A. It is based on my bachelor’s thesis. When I learned about Carossa, I strongly felt that his story had to be told. Not because he was a heroic person, but rather opposite.  He was an unfortunate combination of social responsibility and a passive personality. As Ayumi expresses in the novel, I couldn’t feel for him at first, and it was a challenge for me as a novelist to imagine and understand someone else’s life under an extreme circumstance.

Q. Your background is unique in the sense that you combine the sensibilities of three distinctive cultures - Asian (Japanese), European (German) and North American (Canadian). All these cultures find a reflection in your maiden novel. Would it be right to say that your personality has now become a confluence of all these three cultures and that no culture predominates?

A. Not really. As I age, I feel my Japanese identity more than anything else. This is also due to my engagement in translation of Katherine Govier’s novel past years, which is set in the 19th century Japan, and so I was deeply absorbed in its history, culture and language. But this can change from time to time. When living in Canada I developed somewhat of a Canadian identity. Although I’ve spent more than a decade in Germany, I never feel German identity or sense of belonging or whatsoever.

Q. You've worked on the manuscript for a long time, in addition to your own hard work, who and what helped you the most in the writing of your maiden novel.

A. I was fortunate to have a chance to learn fiction writing from Katherine Govier on a one-on-one basis. I also learned a lot every time I had something edited by native English speakers, but on the other hand, it could be confusing because sometimes every native speaker says different things, maybe you know that yourself. So I think it’s important for a writer, regardless of what language you use, to have inner criteria to follow.

And of course, reading feeds your writing. When I encounter striking words, phrases and sentences I write them down, which I have never done with my own language. Writing in someone else’s language makes you humble.

The last and most important thing is to have supportive friends, regardless of writer or non-writer. Without them I wouldn’t have been able to make it all this way.  

Q. You have written several powerful short stories, when you plan to publish a collection of short stories.

A. Yes, this has been on the top of my to-do list for a long time, but I just haven’t had a chance to complete it so far. I’ve been having a crazy couple of months - three books to publish in one season. It’s exciting, but also exhausting. I sort of miss quietness in which I can concentrate on creation.  Once things calm down, I’m going to write the rest of the stories.

Rivers run through it - I

Toronto skyline as seen from CN Tower

Cities are alive. They constantly change, evolve, grow. Growth transforms them. Growth is economic, but not always organic. Economic growth lends vibrancy and brings culture. Growth metamorphoses their geographies. As a city’s horizontal expanse turns rural hinterland into urban space, the city also expands vertically. In this process, old landmarks and boundaries vanish, making way for the new.

Waterways, hills, forests fade physically and are replaced by houses and factories and highways, but they often stay vivid in memories of a generation that witnessed the transformation. Then, it is all confined to maps that are preserved in archives, accessed by the archivists, heritage enthusiasts, and those who occasionally dabble in urban history.

Institutions that study this transformation attract a particular kind of people – urban activists, journalists, architects, city planners. They meet and talk about the transformation, publish monographs and papers, and despair over lost legacies.

The Heras Institute studies Bombay’s past with an avuncular and indulgent dedication. I discovered the institute at Bombay’s St. Xavier College many decades ago when I began to get interested in my hometown's history.  

I still have a bunch of papers published by this institute somewhere in my home in Bombay. One of the papers is by journalist and urban historian Olga Valladares, with whom I worked briefly.

I’m sure there must be many institutions that look at Toronto’s past with similar affection. I have found an uncanny similarity between some sections of Toronto such the Queen Street and Bombay’s Fort area. Colonialism links Bombay and Toronto architecturally. (Read related post here).

When we came to Toronto five years ago, we did what most newcomers do – took a sightseeing tour in an open-top bus. It was interesting but we didn’t make any real connection with any of the landmarks that we were shown. In the last five years, I have created opportunities to explore the city and even if I haven’t quite succeeded in discovering it to the extent that I would like to, I have done a bit of wandering on my own.

Then, a few weeks ago, I had another opportunity to take another sightseeing tour. And this time around it was a fascinating experience.

The Distillery District is not just an abandoned space that has been turned into yet another shopping trap. Last year I had been to its Christmas market and saw a performance at the district’s Young Centre for the Performing Arts (Read related post here).

Now, the district had a different, more personal connection. Both the ROM and AGO are not just imposing and daunting architectural excesses, they also have little nooks that allow, encourage personal interpretations of art. Bata Shoe Museum isn’t just about shoes. Many of my friends have participated in a poignant exhibition conceived by Katherine Govier that shared their struggle to make Canada home.  And I could identify skyscrapers from the CN Tower by professional acquaintances who work in them.

Continued in the post below

The Shoe Project

Last August I went to India for a month – my first trip after I came to Canada.

I had a long list of stuff to buy, and on the top of the list was ‘Buy shoes from Bata’. 

I belong to a generation that grew up before the big four global shoe brands (Nike, Adidas, Reebok and Puma) came to dominate the minds of consumers.

I’ve only wore Bata shoes (or sandals).

In Canada, I could get everything I wanted but no Bata shoes.

In India, where market segmentation is multilayered, Bata is still a powerful brand.

When I was growing up, Bata was such a huge brand that during the socialist phase in India (in the 1970s), there was even a song in a Hindi movie about flour being made available in a Bata shop – flour in Hindi is ata, and rhymes with Bata. 

(Bata ki dukan par bhi ata mile ga a rare Rafi-Kishore duet from the 1978 Heeralal Pannalal).

During our first month in Canada, we took a sightseeing tour of downtown Toronto and saw the Bata Shoe Museum from the outside.

I made a mental note to visit the museum, but visiting museums is one of those things that forever remain on the ‘must do’ lists.

Then, I heard about the Shoe Project from my friend Yoko.

Novelist and short story writer Katherine Govier, who has worked for many years with newcomers to Canada, was spearheading an initiative for the Bata Shoe museum.

The Shoe Project is a collection of memoirs of women immigrants about the shoes they wore (or brought with them) when they came to Canada.

The project started last fall when “Katherine met with twelve women, ages eighteen to sixty, who came to Canada from the Ukraine to Japan and many places in between...(O)ver tea and cookies the group discussed writing and immigration. Each woman found that she had a shoe-inspired tale. By the end each member had written a personal essay and provided the footwear to match.”

The exhibition came about when Katherine met Elizabeth Semmelhack, Senior Curator of the Bata Shoe Museum; Elizabeth “had long considered doing an exhibition featuring the shoes that brought people to Canada.”

Last week, the Shoe Project was officially unveiled.

And I finally visited the Bata Shoe Museum to see the Shoe Project – it is an absolutely fascinating exhibition.

Contributing writers to the Shoe Project 

There are 12 stories by immigrant women from across the world. 

They are by Filiz Dogan from Turkey, Maryam Nabavinijad from Iran, Sayuri Takatsuki from Japan, Gabi Veras from Brazil, Tanaz Bhathena from India, Elizabeth Meneses Del Castillo from Colombia, Miliete Selemon from Eritrea, Teenaz Javat from India & Pakistan, Freweini Berhane from Eritrea, Nada Sesar-Raffay from Croatia, and Tanya Andrenyuk from Ukraine.

Teenaz Javat and Tanaz Bhathena (both Parsis and both originally from Mumbai) read their shoe memoirs.

The exhibition has become possible thanks to a generosity of an anonymous donor.

I also met Sonja Bata, the force behind the museum that was started in Toronto in 1995.

Read more about the Shoe Project here: The Shoe Project

Read more about the Bata Shoe Museum here: Bata Shoe Museum

Read more about Katherine Govier here: Katherine Govier

Image: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10151283174910105&set=oa.382013625147425&type=1&theater

Cook / Book

Sang Kim

I envy those who cook, and I envy those who write fiction. 

I can’t cook, and I struggle every morning with my fiction writing.

I compensate for my deficiencies in the culinary arts by loving my food, and constantly experimenting.

My love for food is in inverse proportion to my ability to cook. I love food, I don’t cook.  

Over the last three years and some months in Toronto, I've have developed a palate for cuisines I couldn't possibly have imagined I’d ever eat when I was in India.

Primarily, this is because I didn’t even know they existed, or had read about them only in Vir Sanghvi’s food columns when I was in India.

I had Moroccan Tajine at a restaurant in downtown Toronto not too long ago. My friend told me that the meat was optional, but I did the right thing having it with meat. It added substantially to the taste and the aroma.

Tajine is a North African delicacy that gets its name from the earthen vessel in which it is made – not unlike the traditional method of cooking the masterpiece of Gujarati delicacy – the Undhiyu.

A few days ago, I had the Iranian Shole Zard – a delicacy that I’m convinced is a divine concoction that humans only accidentally discovered.

Some time ago, a group of friends had warm Japanese sake in small clay cups and we sat on wooden benches enjoying deep fried oysters with three kinds of sauce.

I compensate for my deficiencies in creative writing (and every day I discover new ones) by enjoying good writing, especially good literature.

Whenever I meet someone who is a natural at both cooking and writing, all I really want to do is just go back to bed, and never get up. 

And I make it a point to acknowledge their talents.

I recently discovered that MG Vassanji, the two times Giller winner, is also an accomplished chef – his Hyderabadi-style eggplant recipe is as magnificent as his prose.

Jasmine D'Costa makes exquisite chicken biryani.

That brings me to my friend Sang Kim.


Every time I meet Sang, I feel completely inferior.

He’s everything that I want to be and will probably never be.

This is how he describes himself on his Facebook page:  “Author, Playwright, Social Entrepreneur, Restaurateur, Accidental Chef.”

He is also the Co-Director of the Small Press of Toronto (SPoT), a bi-annual book fair at various venues throughout Toronto. 

Last month, I visited the fall edition of the SPoT fair to meet Sheniz Janmohamed, Doyali Farah Islam and Ava Homa.

I met Sang. too.

And he gave me yet another reason to crawl back to bed and hide.

He stood in the middle of the book fair, completely oblivious of his surroundings, and recited first of Rilke’s Duino Elegies.

In case you don’t know, that’s one long poem!

I was stunned; as, I’m sure, were Sheniz and Ava.

He later wrote to me, “One of my life's goals is to memorize all 10 Elegies - they say EVERYTHING.”

Sang also told me that he was working on a book and a television project called Cook / Book where he'll be interviewing Toronto writers in their kitchens and cook together.

Acclaimed novelists Katherine Govier, Austin Clarke and Joy Kogawa, have confirmed their participation in the project.

I believe Sang has also convinced Ava Homa to be a part of the project. 

It’s a book worth waiting for.

Image: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150730419885534&set=a.10150354283735534.594165.718330533&type=3&theater

WOTS

I spent most of Sunday at the Word on the Street (WOTS). 

This is an authentic books event that lives up to, and even surpasses all the hype that surrounds it.

Mid-morning is a good time to be there because towards afternoon, it turns into a mela (fair).

I attended Katherine Govier’s reading.

Few writers can read as well as they write. Katherine is a rare exception. She read a passage from her latest novel The Ghost Brush.

Here’s an excerpt from the passage she read:

“I watched a long time. He drew many characters with his body. He stopped and started as if moving to music. He strove to remain erect. He strove to stay above the waves. His body used every muscle to articulate itself. It came to me that he was drawing his path. Perhaps it was his message to me...

...I will remember this forever, I thought. I had no idea what forever would be. I did not know what my life would be, but standing there behind my father as he danced with the waves, I knew that I would always watch him tumble, would always think the ground underneath me tumbled just as the waves did. I would never trust that solid ground. I would face the tumult, scanning for the shadow man I loved. I was his child but he was mine too.

We grew up early in my time. We learned about sex and the women who sold themselves in the Yoshiwara.

We were with the men in the studio when they painted the erotic prints. All those pictures of couples grappling, of women forced down to the mat – as if we didn’t hear it at night too, in our houses.

We knew about the hardness of life. I took charge of the money when my father couldn’t or wouldn't. I heard my mother saying the words that would make him stop loving her. But that wasn’t the moment that turned me from a child to an adult. It was that day, in the waves. Me hollering after him like a mother.”

Exquisite and lyrical – not just the written prose, but also the way Katherine read it. 

Images: Katherine Govier: http://www.govier.com/

The Great Wave off Kangawa: http://randomknowledge.wordpress.com/2008/05/22/the-great-wave-off-kanagawa/

Canadian Voices Volume II

Canadian Voices 2 Launching at Supermarket Art Bar from Imelda O. Suzara on Vimeo.

BookLand Press organised the launch of Canadian Voices Volume 2 at the Supermarket Art Bar on September 20. 

It was without any doubt the most rocking book launch events I have attended in Toronto in the last couple of years that I’ve been here. 

There were writers everywhere – Fraser Sutherland, Katherine Govier, Dawn Promislow, Farzana Doctor, Mariellen Ward and Kevin Lobo, among many others.

Writers and poets whose works are in the volume were there in good numbers, too. As Zohra Zoberi wrote about the event, “people were spilling out on the streets.”

Robert Morgan and Jasmine D’Costa had put together a rocking event.

..whoever said writers are boring?