Don't study just for exams or marks. Study for life. 

Face-to-Face Interview with Central Sahitya Akademi Awardee Sri Varala Anand
Occasion: Release of Triveni at Karkhanagadda Government School  Karimnagar.
The book was released by Anand's school time teacher Sr Rajesham.

Face to Face with Varala Anand
Interviewed by: Class X Students

Literary Questions

Q: What inspired you to start writing?

A: I never really thought that I should become a writer or that I must write. There wasn’t a literary atmosphere at home either. My grandmother’s time onwards, ours was a family of sweet shop owners — a business family. However, my father and some elders knew Hindi and Urdu well, so there was always the air of Hindi films and songs around us. I honestly don’t remember how the thought of writing came to me. Perhaps it was born from a deep inner void — a kind of restlessness. I used to feel hurt when people made fun of my inability to speak fluently; maybe out of that pain came the urge to express myself through writing. Every human being has a basic need to express oneself — some through sports, music, or dance. For me, it took the form of writing.

Q: Which writers and books have influenced you the most?

A: When I was a child, we lived near the clock tower in Karimnagar. There was a shop called Sri Krishna Book Stall. My father often brought Urdu books from there. Seeing him, I too began reading — mostly detective novels during my school days. I loved the suspense in those stories; I couldn’t sleep until the mystery was solved. That habit of deep reading stayed with me.
Later, I read women writers like Yaddanapudi Sulochana Rani and Arikapudi Kousalya Devi. Shantiniketan was one of my favorite novels — its scenes still remain vivid in my mind. Then came novels like Buchibabu’s 'Chivaraku Migiledi', Gopichand’s 'Asamarthuni Jeevayatra', Ravi Sastri’s 'Alpajeevi', Sridevi’s 'Kalatheetha Vyaktulu', and Naveen’s Ampasayya, all of which had a profound impact on me. I even knew some passages by heart.

In poetry, I read Sri Sri’s Maha Prasthanam, Arudra’s Tvamevaham, and Tilak’s Amrutam Kurisina Ratri. Later, poets like V.V. influenced me deeply. In the subsequent years, I admired Gulzar, Javed Akhtar, T.S. Eliot, Pablo Neruda — many writers in many ways.

I see reading as a three-step process: Read – Digest – Assimilate. Only when literature seeps into your bloodstream does it truly become part of you, guiding your self-discovery as a writer.

Q: What is the most important quality of a good writer?

A: Whether one writes poems, stories, novels, or criticism — all are writers. But what makes a good writer is depth — deep study and constant reading. Writing must become a way of life, not a mere act. You must read and write every day.

As students, if you balance your academic studies with a regular reading habit, you’ll build the strength to write well in the future. Just as a career is essential for survival, an engagement with some form of art is essential for inner growth. Creativity helps shape one’s personality; without it, even a talented person becomes a flower without fragrance.

Q: Among your writings, which one is closest to your heart and why?

A: Honestly, no writer creates something that doesn’t come from the heart. Every work is an outpouring of the self. But not everything one writes remains equally dear. I’ve written for over fifty years — stories, children’s tales, film and literary criticism, interviews, translations, and mostly poetry.

Yet, people have seen me differently — writers see me as a film critic, film people see me as a poet, and now they call me a translator. But I see myself as a communicator — expressing my inner emotions in whatever form they take.

My first story appeared in Chitrika magazine. I read my first poem nervously at a college poetry meet presided over by my principal, K.Y.L. Narasimharao. One poem that I still remember begins:

“Society is a great book,
What we need now is not a list of errors,
But a complete rewriting of that book.”

Among my recent works, the collection Manishi Lopala (The Man Within) is deeply personal written after a major crisis in my life. It helped me rediscover myself.

Q: What kind of responsibility does the Sahitya Akademi Award bring to you?

A: Awards are tokens of appreciation, not the essence of a writer’s life. I don’t believe they change us profoundly. They’re welcome but not vital. One shouldn’t chase awards. That said, they do remind us to work with greater commitment and self-awareness. Writing itself is a responsibility perhaps the highest one.

Q: What kind of writings do you plan to do in the future?

A: Writing can’t be planned like that. It emerges from one’s perception and understanding of society. The way we see the world and respond to it determines what we write. Whether child or adult, we can only write what we’ve truly seen and experienced  that is creativity.

Q: How have your school experiences influenced your writing?

A: There’s a ghazal by Sudarshan Faakir, sung by Jagjit Singh —

“Ae daulat bhi le lo, ae shaurat bhi le lo,
Bhale cheen lo mujhse meri jawani,
Magar mujhko lautado bachpan ka saaya,
Wo kagaz ki kashti, wo barish ka paani...”

I’ve heard it countless times. It moves me to tears every time — it’s one of the finest portrayals of childhood.

But not every childhood is blissful. My father didn’t send me to school until fifth class; he taught me himself at home. Later, I joined Karkhanagadda High School in 1967 for 6th and 7th grade. I still remember my Hindi teacher Thakur Singh and my friends Narendra and Radha. Our route to school passed the Teerandaz Talkies and a big pond that overflowed during monsoon. That road now has the Vaishya Bhavan on one side and the Saturday Market on the other. My school days there were memorable. Though I was somewhat reserved, listening to Binaca Geet Mala on the radio made me introspective. Perhaps that very inwardness led me toward poetry and writing later in life.

Q: What would you suggest for us to develop an interest in literature?

A: Not just literature — develop a connection with any creative pursuit. It builds empathy and human values. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses; recognize both. Strengthen your positives, overcome your weaknesses.

Start with simple stories like those in Chandamama. Avoid being glued to phones and TVs — open a book instead. Slowly, you’ll begin to feel like writing yourself. That’s how creativity takes root — it gives you the power to guide and inspire society.

Personal Questions

Q: What were your childhood dreams, and how did they change?

A: I didn’t have any grand dreams. Sometimes, after hearing a good song, I wanted to be a singer; after watching the Hindi film Anand, I wanted to be like Rajesh Khanna. But I ended up becoming a writer — playing with words instead. Life without dreams is meaningless, but mere dreaming isn’t enough. One needs clarity, effort, and sincerity — and the ability to live without greed.

Q: What challenges did you face during your student days, and how did you overcome them?

A: Life without problems is impossible. Struggling through them gives life meaning. My biggest issue was speech — I had difficulty expressing myself, which led to feelings of inferiority. Some classmates mocked me, which made me withdrawn. But my academic performance gave me strength. I participated in essay competitions, won prizes, and found satisfaction there. Success in one area compensates for lack in another. I believe every child should engage in some creative art alongside academics — it builds resilience.

Q: What role did teachers play in shaping your life?

A: My father was my first and greatest teacher he taught me till fifth class. Later, many teachers influenced me. At Ganj School, Parvella Gopala Krishna Sir used to write poetry in class and read it to us  that inspired me to write. In Intermediate, Parthasarathi Sir, who taught English, had a deep impact on me. And Sri Sridhar Rao garu — when I joined Sirisilla Junior College where he was teaching, he proudly introduced me as his former student and even invited me home for lunch. Such gestures leave a lasting mark. No one can progress without teachers — their influence often becomes clear only later in life.

Q: What principles or habits helped you achieve success?

A: I don’t believe in fixed formulas for success. Everyone’s path is different. The key is to walk the path you believe in, to choose goodness, and to remain committed. Punctuality, compassion, and love for others are vital. Never lose your smile — remember that everyone faces struggles. The secret is to distinguish between comfort and happiness — they are not the same.

Q: What’s the most memorable incident from your student days?

A: There were many — both compliments and insults. I took both equally. What matters is not success or failure, but the journey itself. Step by step, effort turns into achievement. The struggle is greater than victory.

Q: How did your parents support your literary journey?

A: My mother was loving and caring — like any mother. My father created a reading environment at home. They never told me what to read or not to read. He never praised my writings openly either. Convincing him to release my book Yadon Ki Baraat was a challenge! Finally, he agreed and unveiled it in front of Osmania Arts College — that remains a proud memory.

Q: Apart from literature, what other interests do you have?

A: Cinema — meaningful, artistic cinema. I’ve been active in the film society movement for over three decades, screening films for children and adults. I’ve written hundreds of film-related articles and even made six documentary films.

Q: Even after success, how do you remain so humble?

A: Because the effort itself is more important than success or failure. True satisfaction lies in the attempt. Humility is part of my personality — not an act. Life shouldn’t be a performance, nor lived for others’ approval.

School-Related Questions

Q: Which teachers do you remember from your days at this school?

A: I studied 6th and 7th grades here at Karkhanagadda School. I remember Thakur Singh Sir and Rajaiah Sir. Later, at Ganj School, I was taught by Muraliayya Sir (Telugu), Rajesham Sir (Hindi), Parvella Gopal Krishna Sir, and George Gritton Sir (English)

Q: How do you recall your classroom, playground, and friends today?

A: The classroom played a crucial role in shaping me. I learned a lot there, and many classmates are still in touch — some became doctors, engineers, or businessmen. There was no playground at Ganj School — perhaps that’s why I never played sports. I used to listen to cricket commentary on the radio and knew names like Gavaskar, Vishwanath, and Bedi. Later, literature became my life. Though I missed sports, I never lost the spirit of play.

Q: How did your school help shape you as a writer?

A: As I mentioned, teachers like Parvella Gopala Krishna Sir inspired me deeply. That spark began right here.

Q: How does it feel to return to the school where you once studied?

A: It’s thrilling! Though everything has changed — the teachers, students, syllabus, and even the building — my memories remain fresh. It feels as though I studied here just yesterday.

Q: What should we make the best use of in this school to achieve success like yours?

A: There are no fixed ladders to success. Choose your goal and move towards it. Teachers, parents, and elders will guide you along the way. Read — read books, read life, read society, and most importantly, read yourself.

Q: What message would you like to give to this school and our generation?

A: Don’t study just for exams or marks. Study for life. Understand what you read, enjoy it, let it flow through your veins — that’s when learning becomes meaningful.

Q: If you could study here again as a student, how would that feel?

A: Just the thought is delightful and moving. To become a child again, carrying a slate and satchel to school  that would be rebirth! I’m reminded of Sri Sri’s lines:

“O flowers that know nothing, O five- or six-year-old children,
The entire universe is yours; you are the makers of the world’s destiny.”

If only I could sprout wings and fly again like a kite in the wind but alas, that’s not possible in reality. Yet, in imagination, it is. And that imagination is the essence of poetry, of literature, of all art.

—This Interview with Sri Varala Anand, Sahitya Akademi Award Recipient was coordinated by the present telugu teacher Sri Nandi Srinivas