When I stepped into Flame Tree Publishing's London office as their new writer-in-residence, I couldn't help but smile at the turn life had taken. Two and a half years ago, I traded Mumbai's relentless pulse for London's literary and artistic heartbeat - a journey that has been more than geographical. It's been a migration of perspective, pace, and creative purpose.

Who am I

I'm Shilpa, your writer-in-residence for the coming months. If you're reading this, you've stumbled into what I hope will be a delightful series of reflections that bridge continents and creative sensibilities.

In Mumbai, I wrote to the cacophony of honking horns and street vendors; my sentences often as hurried as my footsteps navigating the bylanes of Goregaon. Here in London, surrounded by Flame Tree's illustrated books and art calendars, I'm learning a different tempo - one that allows ideas to breathe and stories to unfold with deliberate care.

Here, everything moves differently. I've learned to stretch my sentences like endless grey skies. My paragraphs breathe deeper, my observations linger longer. The writing itself has changed - less urgent perhaps, but more attentive. And the readers! They approach text with unhurried curiosity, willing to sit with ideas rather than scroll past them.

This residency feels like the perfect culmination of my wandering creative path. While I'll be producing blog posts about my experiences in London, I'm simultaneously working on a passion project that pulls me back to my roots - a mini-series and podcast titled ‘When the Forest Watches’ exploring one of India's most fascinating yet least understood regions.

About Bastar

Bastar, with its ancient tribal cultures, dense forests, and complex narratives, has stories that deserve thoughtful telling. When I mentioned this project to my family in India, my mum smiled knowingly. "In Bastar," she said, "stories aren't written. They're remembered." Truth be told, I have taken this as my writing mantra. I'm not merely documenting, you see, I'm participating in a tradition of memory-keeping that predates the written word.

What amazes me most about straddling these worlds is how they inform each other. The detailed world-building techniques I am learning here at Flame Tree have transformed how I approach documentary storytelling. Simultaneously, the visual economy I developed in animation helps me create more vivid prose for the page. (Yes, I adapted Disney’s ‘The Little Mermaid’ for the India market.)

Where do we go from here?

What I'm attempting with this residency is a kind of literary translation - not just between languages, but between ways of experiencing time, narrative and community in particular. In India, my community was like a Bollywood dance number - everyone barging into your life scene without warning, colourful, loud, sometimes overwhelming, but undeniably vibrant. Here in London, it's more like a well-rehearsed play with clearly defined entrances and exits. 

For those wondering about logistics, I'll be posting here weekly about my adventures at Flame Tree and beyond. Watch this space for the Bastar blog and podcast. Without giving any spoilers, I can tell you that it will be a six part series in the folk-horror genre. I know, I know, the contrast between these projects couldn't be more striking. Yet somehow, writing here feels like belonging across oceans and cultures, in all its messy, beautiful complexity.

So here's to new beginnings, to the luxury of creative exploration, to the magic that happens when we transplant ourselves into unfamiliar soil. I can't wait to share both journeys with you - the insights from Flame Tree's publishing world and the echoes from Bastar's ancient traditions. Both involve unexpected connections, creative challenges, and the kind of joyful discovery that makes storytelling the best profession in the world.