[The gist of my speech delivered at the Lekhini Mahila Chaitanya Sahiti Samskrutika Samstha meeting, April 11, 2006.]

Back in 1968, I was invited to the stage along with distinguished writers like Nayani Krishnakumari, Utukuri Laksmikantamma, Polapragada Rajyalakshmi, D. Kameswari, Beenadevi, K. Ramalakshmi, Illindila Saraswatidevi, Basavaraju Rajyalakshmamma, Dronamraju Lakshmibayamma, and Yellapragada Sitakumari. (Sulochana Rani should have been on that stage that day but in those days she was not going to any public meetings.) On that day, I stood there, slightly shaking, and wondering why I was there and what was I doing there. Today, I feel the same way. With me as a prop, you all, reputable writers, professors, and readers, gathered here because of your love of Telugu fiction and through the efforts of Dr. Prabhavati. Today you proved that a statement like "Telugu writers do not respond well when you plan a meeting" is not fair to say.

I started Thulika for one and only reason, that's my own pleasure. In my town where I live there were no Telugu people to share my interest in Telugu stories. I had no one to talk to about Telugu fiction. So I was reading the stories and translating them for myself. Then I learned how to create a website and posted my translations on my site.

Also, I started noticing that there was very little awareness of Telugu people and Telugu culture in America. Wherever you turn, there are only three or four questions that keep popping up: Is it true that women have no freedom in your country? What does that red dot mean? How can huge families of six or eight live in one or two rooms? In fact, I was surprised to see that the latest edition of American heritage dictionary (2000) included city names like Guntur and Visakhapatnam but not the name of the state, Andhra Pradesh.

Anyway, I thought our stories can explain a lot more about our culture than the answers to the few questions I mentioned earlier.

After starting the website, I noticed that it was not only readers from other cultures but our own youth also were reading the stories in English and enjoying them. It may be because the cannot read them in Telugu or they'd gotten used to English because of their jobs and social life. The truth is they all welcomed the site with unusual enthusiasm. My site gets 40 to 50 hits a day. One day in a week the number goes up as high as 100 to 150. Considering the narrow coverage on Thulika--just three or four stories in translation and an essay on some aspect of fiction--the hits are notable I think. To my surprise, the essays are also received very well.

A word about my selection. I am a writer from the 1950s and 60s and so my interest lies in the fiction of that time. In current day stories, there seems to be greater emphasis on message and less on style. To me, style is equally important. How a story is told determines its place in literature. Stories focused only on message last only as long as the message is valid. I am also trying to give exposure to stories that are neglected by other media. Most of the magazines and websites are now focused either on stories depicting current conditions or classics. In between, there is a missing piece, that is our immediate past, and I am trying to close that gap.

My aim is to showcase to the world the broad range of our writers. Unlike other websites and the print media, I am committed to feature the entire range of our fiction. I am trying to pick good writing, regardless of the writer's reputation, and show to the world that we have great stories in Telugu. In the process, I am hoping to succeed in showing to the world we also have a culture we are proud of.

Thulika is unique, the only site devoted to publishing regularly every quarter 3 or 4 stories and an essay systematically, and it is a one-person show. I select, translate, edit and publish on the website, and manage the site myself. So far 90 stories have been published, out of which just about ten are translated by other writers. There are no ads and so no income. For all these reasons, I consider Thulika a very special website and your response today makes me feel that I am doing something worth doing. I am very grateful to you all for giving me that encouragement.

K. B. Lakshmi referred to the thrushna in her speech. There are a couple of incidents that inspired me to write that story. In 1961, I met Mr. Abburi Ramakrishna Rao, then librarian, Andhra University, and told him I was interested in doing library science. He asked me why. I told him that I was interested in books. He said, "Amma, a librarian enjoys books just about as much as a sweet-meat seller eats sweets." I thought that that was a powerful comment.

I went ahead anyway and finished my course in library science, became a librarian in Sri Venkateswara University, Tirupati. Then I realized two things. 1. The so-called class IV employees did not have library privileges; they were not allowed to borrow books, inspite of all our big talk about 'everybody should learn to read and write'. Secondly, I noticed some of those class IV employees were genuinely interested in reading. That made me write the story thrushna.

Vasa Prabhavati said in her speech that the editor of Andhrabhoomi weekly told her that she [the editor] was impressed with the story ubhayabhaashaapraveena. That story was based on an incident I came across while I was working in a small community college in Madison. One of the students told me that she was teaching a foreign child to learn English, as a part of her service-learning project. In the process she went overboard and insisted that his family also should speak English at home. I wrote the story in English first, Bilingual Kid, and published it on my website. Then I received a few emails from Andhra Pradesh and the story was also linked on a website in Netherland. My point is we put very little faith in children's ability to learn more than one language and I think the message came across.

Seela Veerraju had made a suggestion back in 2002 and reiterated the same--the need to publish the translations in print. I remember his suggestion and am trying to do so. However, the problem is two-fold. Besides the economics of it, there is the need for somebody to take the responsibility and supervise the physical aspects of publishing such as working with a printer, proofreading, and then the equally challenging aspect of marketing. I am in no position to handle all this. If somebody is willing to offer such support, I would be very happy to work with them.

At this point, I am happy to make two announcements. Jaico Publishing House has informed me recently that an anthology of eighteen translations, A Spectrum of My People: Stories from Andhra Pradesh will be released soon, possibly this summer.

Second, Mr. A. Krishnamurthy, Regional secretary, informed me that Sahitya Academi agreed to publish my second anthology, From my Front Porch: An Anthology of Telugu Short Stories in English per my original submission, which included eighteen stories.

I keep working and keep hoping that all the translations published on Thulika will eventually be made available in anthologies.

Once again, I thank all of you for coming here today, and my special thanks to Dr. Prabhavati and the organizers.

(A special note: Towards the end of the meeting I mentioned that K. B. Lakshmi did not include Bhanumati in her article on Telugu humor in Vipula, February 2006. Now I know it was my mistake. I apologize for my slip up. NM.)