Illustrator and tattoo artist Barkha Lohia has created stunning art in Walking in the Wild for Pratham Books this year. 

Barkha lives in Gurgaon, Haryana. She loves working on morbid illustrations, tattoos, paintings of bird and trees and can be found drinking chai at any given time. She is currently working on a poem-based picturebook.

In this short email interview, Pratham Books' Assistant Editor Zeba Imtiaz talks to Barkha about her illustration approach and inspiration.

 

 How do you find inspiration for your work?

I take inspiration from everywhere, but mostly nature. I love reading, so that influences my work as well. Then there are events in your life and people around you that also flow back into the work. Sometimes it’s a conscious decision, sometimes it just flows - without much thought about what should be the subject or the output.

We know that you are a tattoo artist as well. Could you tell us more about your journey as a tattoo artist - the decision to be one, what drew you to it, and so on?

My maternal grandmother and paternal great grandmother had a lot of tattoos on their bodies. In India, communities have had a rich tradition of tattooing and the case was same here. As a child I was very fascinated with the ink on their body and would often ask them what it meant, or why they got it done. Growing up, shows like Miami Ink, LA Ink influenced me as well. The creative process of it all was really intriguing. How one took a concept and made something so personal for the client, to be permanently inked was very fascinating to me. Also, I really connected to this art form, I'd often keep doodling on myself or my friend's skin in school and college. I decided to go for it when I was working as an illustrator at my second job. I ordered a kit for myself to practice and decided later on to join a studio as well. It’s been great fun.

      

Do you find that your work as a tattoo artist influences your other work, or vice versa?

I don't think it has till date. In my case, since I love working with nature - the theme has trickled down to the various mediums I use - be it tattooing or illustration. I also feel that I'm still experimenting and not really down to one style, so I think I have the liberty to go at different styles in different mediums. With tattooing, you have to keep some aspects in mind while drawing - with regards to what will work on a live canvas. So, it has its own limitations and set rules that are not there for traditional illustrations for books and such. Illustration on paper, digital illustrations are more freeing.

Is this your first time illustrating for children? What do you most enjoy about illustrating for children, and what are the challenges?

Yes, this was my first time illustrating for kids. I have worked on smaller projects before but not on a complete book. I learned a lot during the process and it was great fun. I remember as a kid, I would pore over pictures and paintings in books and really look at them for long hours. Simply in terms of story, what must this character be doing, why is this cat here in drawing, etc. I was just creating a different world altogether. And I think kids tend to do that. They will put more into text, drawing and story in more ways than we do. So, I was trying to create that. I can't say what works for them since this is my first time illustrating for them, but if asked to do something I'd probably make a completely wacky world for them, filled with strange characters, peculiar sights, familiar sights. They would connect more with a talking bird than we'd ever. I think my style would be like that. With this book, the challenge came with the brief to have a more realistic character rather than cartoony. So, mostly it was to get the real look of a forest and the ongoing events and to do justice to the story of Zakhuma. And still make it engaging for the kids.

What kind of preparation and research went into illustrating Walking in the Wild?

I was provided with a brief about the place and Zakhuma. I was given his picture and his daily activities and asked to make a character that was more realistic than cartoony. I developed the character of Zakhuma first and then later on worked on the surroundings of the forest. I looked through a lot of pictures and articles on Dampa tiger reserve and the forests in Mizoram to get a feel of the place. Same goes for the animals, birds in the story. Rough layouts were then made for the pages, which were then discussed with the art director - for suggestions and iterations before working on the final drawing. Similarly for colouring in the pieces, some rough coloured layouts were shared with the Pratham Books team to collectively decide on which would suit the overall theme better.

Walking in the Wild is filled with beautiful and detailed drawings of different animals. What did you most enjoy drawing?

I really loved the scenes where different animal descriptions were to be given. I particularly enjoyed illustrating the opening scene and the moonlit scene of the Dampa forest reserve.

 

 

If you had to choose one medium for your art, what would you pick?

I don't think I can decide on one. I love working with different mediums. Each lends a different feel to the work. That being said, I enjoy doing more hand drawn stuff than digital - be it acrylics, oil paints, posters etc.

Who are some artists you admire?

There are many! When it comes to picture books - Shaun Tan is someone I'm really inspired by. His work is phenomenal. Lots of tattoo artists as well - Dzo Lama, Balaz Bercsenyi, Sol Tattoo in particular. Lots of Indian artists - Hemlata Pradhan, Rajiv Eipe, Sajid Wajid Shaik, Abhishek Singh. There are many actually. I can only think of a few right now. 

How do you deal with creative blocks?

Not well. I don't like that part at all. I think I take to binge watching T.V. series and books to get over it and walks.

You can read Walking in the Wild on StoryWeaver for free. This is available in Hindi, Marathi, Kannada, Tamil, and English. 

Be the first to comment.

---

StoryWeaver is celebrating this festive season by presenting to you our  year end wrap. Come, let us soak in this holiday season by reading our most loved stories from 2022. This festive season, let us remember the joys of the year gone by and greet the new year with hope, and renewed enthusiasm. Here is a list of fun and sparkling stories to introduce to the child. 

1. A Bunch of Flowers: What is happening to Peri’s mother? His mother is always sleeping, her room is always dark like a thick forest of tall trees. In this wordless book for  emergent readers, Peri thinks of ways to bring the outdoors and sunshine back into their home and into his mother’s eyes. Immerse yourself in this lovely picture book on hope, support, and understanding written by Liwliwa Malabed, illustrated by Saumya Oberoi, and published by Singapore Book Council here.

 

2. How Many?: Crawling snails, fluttering butterflies, pigs in the mud. This book has so many animals, and more keep joining in. Can you count them all? Count your way through complex maths concepts with this richly illustrated book written by Sudeshna Shome Ghosh, illustrated by Sayan Mukherjee, and published by Pratham Books here.

 

3. Brave Bora: Going to the doctor can be scary! Can Bora overcome his fears, with a little help from Baba and Jojo? Explore your own courage through this beautiful story on love and support written by Edna Gicovi, illustrated by Ellen Heydenrych, and published by Book Dash here.

 

4. Haru: Meet Haru, who loves to eat, run and play. Even though there are nights when it’s hard to find a warm place to sleep, or days when there isn’t enough food to eat, Haru is always certain that tomorrow will be better. After all, as long as there is love and joy, it’s not a bad life! Discover the joy in the little things in life through this book written and illustrated by Manjari Chakravarti, and published by Pratham Books here.

 

5. At Home: Ammini misses school, and her brother Unni misses his aunt. Both of them miss playing in the park. But everyone has to stay indoors. Maybe they can go out for a walk today? Ammini hopes so. A day in the life of two children in a time of lockdowns and social distancing. Join Ammini on her journey as she tries her best to keep hopeful and carry on during tough times written by Shweta Ganesh Kumar, illustrated by Annand Menon, and published by Pratham Books here.

 

---

As we look back, this past year has been about recovering from the impact of the Covid-19 pandemic with the realisation that we must continue our efforts to make the joy of reading fun, free, and accessible to all. Help us continue our journey of spreading the cheer of reading. If you like our work, consider donating to StoryWeaver. No amount is too small, and we appreciate every single contribution.

To make your contribution, click on: http://bit.ly/3PHTht5

comment (1)

---

Vinayak Varma, writes and draws things. He has written, guest edited and art directed STEM picture books for Pratham Books. Visit him at www.instagram.com/mixtape.in

Give nine people the exact same brief, and there’s a good chance that you’ll end up with nine different kinds of output. I’ve always been curious to know what happens on that journey between idea and execution, and what makes similar stories live out such different lives in the minds of different artists and writers. This is perhaps the only thing that motivates me to collaborate with others, speaking as a cranky hermit type who prefers working alone.

I write and illustrate for a living (a large part of which has lately been in aid of PB StoryWeaver). Every new project I take on is invariably a triathlon event that begins with a plunge into the Bottomless Pool of Procrastination, followed by a deathly plod across the Minefield of Migraines and a bicycle race through the No-Man’s-Land of Forgotten Deadlines. Somewhere along this crazy path, the odd conceptual tangents that inform the best parts of my work tend to sneak up on me like little ninjas. I'm usually too annoyed or preoccupied while I’m working to make note of precisely how any of it happened, and once the moment has passed and the job is done -- provided that job has any depth, truth or beauty to it -- it's easy enough to shrug and pretend like I'd been hit by some Joycean haiku moment.

But mastery of one’s art comes from understanding the mechanics of these creative accidents. If you can unpack it, you can duplicate it. However, the trouble with writing stories or making art is that they require you to exist in an isolated, meditative bubble where you're engaging deeply with the problem at hand, whereas the route to this bubble is through much distraction and muddled thinking. In order to parse the finer workings of this process, you need to be able to slip outside of your bubble at will (while maintaining an accessible distance), catch yourself in the act of being creative, and then be detached enough to pause and document what's happening. It’s a dilemma akin to that of Schrodinger’s cat -- the creative moment exists in a sort of delicate half-alive, half-dead state, where the very act of observing it risks killing it.

Of course, there are other, loftier parts to publishing, from where one can gain an interesting new vantage of some these abstract areas of book-making: hello and welcome to the Highlands, where clowders of editors scour the hillsides for errant adverbs like goats looking for tasty trash. These are cold, dry places where many authors and illustrators don’t dare venture for fear of losing their precious senses of self. Well, I do go there every so often, because I’m foolhardy like that. Here’s what I discovered up there: nothing returns your inner moggie to its quantum state like stage-managing the creation of picture books (as opposed to being one of the actors out in front). Editing and art directing let you view and gently influence the many moving parts of a project, watching creativity in action, without the blinding pressure of being the primary authorial voice. You get to observe the zombie cat but, also, you ARE the zombie cat. I recommend this exercise to all writers and illustrators at least once in their careers: not only does it let you see how other people make things, thereby enriching your own work, but it also acquaints you with the terrible power and omnipotence that commissioning editors have to live with daily. This can build empathy, if nothing else.

I got my most recent taste of this awesome power last year when I was hired to commission a set of nine STEM picture books for Pratham Books' StoryWeaver. I planned, ideated, edited and art directed four of these, which were on science. I got to art direct another four, from editor Bijal Vachharajani’s set of environment-themed stories. And I wrote and illustrated the ninth, themed on emotional intelligence, which meant that I too got to make, even as I guided and observed others in the act of making. In sum, I got to pull back the curtain and see all the wheels turn at once, to catch the decaying particle as it sped towards the poison vial, to expose the regular dude masquerading as… as…. a wizard… no, a dead cat… no, a living cat… no, a mountain goat... Look, the point is: this scarecrow has a fresh, insight-filled brain now. Chew on that, zombies.

I’m going to try and share some of that insight (or at least a bit more about the merits to following my particular path to such insight) in part 2 of this post, next week. Meanwhile, let’s look at some of the books that I just mentioned:

The Science Books

For the set of science books that I had to both edit and art direct, I was asked to come up with a few interesting themes and story ideas, and, once they'd been approved in-house, to farm them out to freelance writers and illustrators who were best suited to each idea. Four stories were then shortlisted from the seven or eight ideas that I suggested to my commissioning editors at Pratham Books (yes, even commissioning editors like me have commissioning editors, who in turn have other, bigger, older commissioning editors, who answer to still larger, greyer commissioning editors, etcetera, etcetera, all the way down, like the proverbial Jenga-stack of cosmic turtles).

I'm going to show you exactly how rudimentary these four early ideas were, so that you can gasp and grow silent with awe when you see what they ultimately became in the hands of my talented gang of writers and illustrators. Hold onto your seats.

--

"Dear Commissioning Space-Turtle #X,

Here are some ideas:

1. A kid has a cold. S/he then gives it to everyone else in his/her class via sneezes and things. Because epidemiology, boss.

2. An old lady heads out with a walking stick and her grandkid in tow. She uses her stick in various fun ways during the walk, pushing, pulling, propping up, etc., thereby demonstrating how simple machines work. Because physics and stuff, boss.

3. On birds devolving into dinosaurs, a la the chickenosaurus conjecture. Cluck, roar, repeat. Because why the hell not.

4. Crocodiles? Reptiles? Rom Whitaker? Because conservation biology, kids.

+ a few more that probably aren't worth going into given space(!)-constraints in this fake-email-within-an-already-interminable-blog-post.

Sincerely,

Commissioning Space-Turtle #Y"

--

As you can see, the whole scheme began with a pith of one-liners that bore a 50-50 potential to go either way: to turn into something halfway-decent, or utter trash. What emerged at the end of their gritty evolution into book-hood, though, would you believe it, were these beauties:

Sniffles: in which Sunando C used bold, striking illustrations and crisp storytelling to turn a sad and lonely germ of an idea into a full-blown epidemic of football and high-fives and cool hats and general cuteness (plus, in a more literal sense, a sustained spray of sneezes, sickness and snot, so keep your antiseptic soaps handy). And those colours! Those characters! Those compositions! Those Norman-Jewison-esque split-screens! Killer stuff!

 

Ammachi's Amazing Machines: It’s like that original walking stick idea has been sliced up and Frankensteined by a mad surgical team consisting of Rube Goldberg, Professor Branestawm, Mr. Bean and Sathyan Anthikkad. Here’s what I’m interested in knowing: is there anything Rajiv Eipe can't do? Seriously, is there? I've asked everyone, and no one seems to have the answer. I'm willing to pay good money for this information. (Also: simple-machine barfi, FTW.)

 

Kaakasaurus: Terrifying, scaly, toothy, large, angry, feathery, strange, destructive, and hungry are all adjectives that one could apply to Shalini Srinivasan and Prabha Mallya (but I’m told it would be impolite to do so). Their picture book, however, is all of those words, but also happy, shiny, funny, smart, and crunchy like a hot bajji. There’s a Jurassic Park spin-off script in there somewhere, by the way, and Spielberg (or Robot Shankar) would be well advised to quickly option it while this crow is still a crow.

 

Ghum-Ghum Gharial’s Glorious Adventure: Now here is a story you can lose yourself in; a deeply affecting bildungsroman about the meaning of family, about love, loss and self-actualisation. The story and art by Aparna Kapur and Roshan, respectively, are so rich with truth, heart and lyricism. It ticks all the right literary / artistic boxes, I tell you. What makes this book truly stand apart, though, is that it’s also filled with an incredible polyphony of nose-wart-blasted fart-noises. Beat that, Odysseus!

You should go read these books, and share them with your kids, if you haven’t already. Did I mention that they’re all free? No? Well, they are too. The links are in the book titles (above). This is your cue to leave this page. GO!

Next week, in part 2 of this post: Four more picture books, more monstrously mixed metaphors (and other atrocious alliterations), an angry, angry, angry kid, and the Final Fate of Quantum Limbo Cat!

Be the first to comment.

---