Shreekumar varma biography for kids

Varma was born in in Satelmond Palace, Poojapura, Thiruvananthapuram. His parents left Kerala and settled down in Madras when he was four. He took part in plays in school and college, and also participated in and devised programmes for All India Radio. Back in Madras, he edited and published a magazine named Trident, and was associated with a printing press, as well as a publishing and creative training unit.

His father, the late Kilimanoor Kerala Varma, was an advocate, industrialist, poet, novelist and translator. He is the past president of the Rotary Club of Madras Southwest. He loved teaching students and sharing knowledge and experiences. In one of his interviews, he stated that. I do enjoy teaching, and I find that science students often come up with more out-of-the-box thinking than lit students do.

I love encouraging people in whom I sense talent for writing — I literally pester them to write, actually! I started small, with a couple of short stories, but by the time my play The Dark Lord came second at a British Council competition and Bow of Rama won the Hindu-Madras Players Playscripts contest, I was safely into contest mode.

His poetry was used as text for the dance recitals Vamshi and Monsoon by noted Bharatanatyam exponent Indira Kadambi. His play "Platform" was selected to launch the 50th year celebrations of The Madras Players, India's oldest running English theatre group. Projector In a hall where curtains crush the last sunrays, they wait in semi-silent stupor- hundreds, facing a white bright screen; kindred, as they share a dream.

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Shreekumar varma biography for kids

Shreekumar Varma Poems 1. Read Poem. Let Me Perhaps what my mother needed was some sane advice and a window that opened out to normalcy. But I indulged her fears and whims. I played mason to her architect and soon there it was—our morbid world of unreachable fantasy. My father knew. My friend Shekar Gupta, unused to such nuances, found it funny that I of all people could spring my marriage like a surprise, expecting ultimate acceptance.

Then that night the engine revved and so did a terrible clawing inside my head. I felt her arms around me as I gathered speed and I must have wondered how long such happiness could last. The engine revved. A truck was rushing up from the opposite direction. It was only an impulse that moved my arms, hands painful on the handlebars.

A gentle sailing momentum, that was all it took, intensely attracted by the speed of the truck and the prospect of deserved blissful oblivion. Find a course. University courses by subject. Student life. Shreekumar Varma Time at Stirling The three months in Stirling coloured my writing life substantially. I enter the shack with her. Throttle was the result of the dying out of everything else.

I study her diligently till she opens her eyes and laughs. Just admiring a fine work of art. There is always a beginning to the end! Happiness is dead.