Parvathy J

What was your favorite book as a child?

This is a difficult question to answer. No one book stayed a favorite throughout childhood. I remember feeling intensely for different books, short stories, and authors at various times, even children’s magazines. It was a story about a grandmother tree that I read in my elder brother’s Malayalam school textbook for the longest time. There were brief affairs with Enid Blyton and Mitch Albom, before I fell in love with Agatha Christie. I devoured her books — read every single one I could find on the dusty shelves of the public library. One book that I am forever grateful to have read is Anne Cassidy’s Looking for JJ. I didn’t know why or how back then, but reading it as a confused child, I felt seen and saved in a way I never had before. 

What was the original reason or motivation why you started writing creatively?

I grew up listening to stories from my grandmother. And often lived in a land of make-believe in my head. I took to reading hungrily to understand why I felt lonely, desperately wanting to know that I was not alone and to soak in the absolute delight of a story well told. I was in awe of what stories did for me, loved the written word and the ones who birthed them. I wanted to write because I wanted to be loved.

What was the most adventurous or thrilling thing you ever did/experienced?

It has to be being seen; allowing myself to be seen. Having a personal essay of mine published online for the first time was thrilling and terrifying. I freaked out the morning the piece was out — unlike when putting out fiction and poetry to be read, I worried that there was too much about myself in the piece and wanted to hide. This fear was soothed by the kindest words of readers who held my story with grace, and sent me love wrapped in words, music, beating heart emojis, and hugs.

Do you listen to music while reading or writing?

I write in fragments: in between chores, in the shower, moments before drifting to sleep, while on a commute. I also almost always am listening to music. That way, stories, and music do meet. For the second draft and edits and drafts thereon, I need silence. Same with reading — I cannot focus on the text when I’m listening to music. Although this goes the other way too —  I don't read or write while listening to music because the former doesn’t let me savour the beauty of what is being played.