About Uma
I was a writer before I knew I was allowed to be one. When I was a child, I constantly played and replayed stories in my head. Mostly, I must admit, because of fear.
I grew up in India, where we had geckoes outside the house and sometimes even indoors—something quite common in many tropical places. They’d eat mosquitoes and other insects, and chirp (quite loudly sometimes). They lived on the top few inches of the walls. I was terrified that one of them would have a heart attack and fall on my head, which I knew would have made me expire on the spot out of pure fright.
Of course, it never happened. Then, for years, I lived in New Mexico, where lizards of all kinds were common in the wild. There was even a state lizard, the beautiful whiptail lizard with black and white stripes and a teal-blue tail. It is a strange being. There are no males in the species. Each baby lizard is a slightly modified genetic replica of the mother. It’s a process called parthenogenesis—there’s a word!
For me now, lizards are a symbol of overcoming fear and of the fantastic. I have found out all kinds of wonderful things about them and one of these years I may write a lizard into a story, although I’d probably still scream if one fell on my head!
Geckoes aren’t my only India memory. The scent of jasmine, the taste of a mango, the loud-loud-loud birdsong of koels just before the rain—they’re all unforgettable.
Now I live in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. Some of my stories are set in North America, some in India. Some cross from one place into the other and back again, just like me.