Part 03 – A Storyteller’s Journey
When you build a story world, what are you really building it from?
From imagination, yes. But also from the fragments of a life: from the whispers of ancestors, from the scars of failure, from the fire of a relentless vision. For meaning to become memory, it must do more than reach the mind; it must touch the soul with something real.
To truly understand a story, or the person telling it, you must look at the raw materials they are built from. Every creator’s journey follows a narrative structure. It begins with a setup that establishes a world and a character, moves through a long ordeal of trials and transformations, and arrives at a resolution where a new vision is forged.
This is my journey, presented through that framework.
Act I: The Setup – The World and The Calling
Every story begins by establishing a world and a character living within it—often unaware of a deeper calling. My world was Chennai, and for the longest time, my own history was a mystery to me.
My grandfather, Thiyagarajan, arrived here in the 1980s following a transfer from Arani. He worked as a sanitary inspector, hailing from Arumbakkam, a village near Arcot in what was once Vellore district—later divided into Ranipet and other regions.
It took me 30 years of questioning to uncover what lay beneath: my great-grandfather was a Siddha Vaidhya healer, and his father headed a street play troupe called the Thozhappa Nadaga Kuzhu.
This was the inciting incident of my own story. I learned that Thozhappa was the founding guru of a tribe of artists my family belonged to. Over generations, that artistic fire had dwindled, but in this discovery, I felt its glow. I lack the natural flair of a dancer or orator, but I knew then that storytelling was the path I had to choose to carry this legacy. It wasn’t an accident; it was a decision. I resolved to never speak without purpose or craft a story without a challenge at its heart.
Act II: The Ordeal – A Path of Trials
A character’s true nature is revealed not by their calling, but by the trials they face when they try to answer it. My path was a long ordeal of creation, collapse, and confrontation.
In my first article, we followed the trail of my storytelling life. It started with my childhood story The Kid’s Valley, where mischievous kids faced a chilling lesson from a strange granny. Then came my 2012 short film Sweetie, followed by Edhirkaalam?, a one-minute strike proving brevity can pierce profoundly. We also delved into my third script, Patchaathaabam, a comedy-drama exploring mirror neurons. I’m thankful you’re still with me on this ride!
You’re also aware of my vision—I revealed it in my second article: creating Bharatiya Manga, culturally rooted tales for graphic novels steeped in Indian aesthetics. Yet I haven’t shared how I arrived there; a slew of stories lies between, born from risks I took and countless mistakes I made. Between 2015 and 2016, I produced a few YouTube videos for theater artists aiming to become standup comedians. Though the videos gained traction, our group couldn’t overcome our differences. We all needed more time to mature.
This failure was a turning point. I realized that despite good intentions, I struggled to articulate my vision. I had to learn self-sustainability. I left Chennai for Kuyilapalayam, a village near Auroville, where I lived for two years (2017–2018). I paid my way by making documentary-style wedding films and subtitling for a firm called Sfera Studios. With no oversight, I stumbled through countless mistakes. I learned to cook, to take photos, to build a small hut—and above all, I was forced to confront my own inflated ego. Still, the words wouldn’t come.
Realizing I’d strayed too far, I returned to Chennai to try the film industry, only to face a new trial. A severe throat ailment silenced me for a month. When modern medicine failed, a visit to a Murugan temple led me to a small vigraha of Dhanvantri, the cosmic healer. A sign behind it pointed me to Mr. Jayakumar of Madan Homeo Clinic, who cured me in a week.
With my voice restored, I served as an Assistant Director for ten months in 2019. I was grateful for the chance, but the ordeal showed me I didn’t fit the industry’s mold. After the project wrapped, a journey to Varanasi to immerse myself in the Ganga brought a moment of peace and a new story idea about a nomad and a snake. I’ll narrate that snake tale to you soon. In 2020, I began intense research for a story called Thozhappa Nadaga Company. I believed I could do it and diligently prepared a pitch deck.
Then came the ultimate ordeal: the COVID lockdown. In an instant, all my plans crumbled. But in that confinement, the Tamil saying “Soll Ara, Chumma Iru!” (Stop talking and do nothing!) became my guide. I ceased writing stories and took up note-taking. I stopped pitching and began listening to gurus. And what I started to understand scared me—I had so much more to absorb.
Act III: The Resolution – A Vision Forged in Fire
The resolution of a character’s arc is not about returning to the old world, but about building a new one from the wisdom gained in the ordeal.
The silence of the lockdown gave way to clarity. In 2021, with patronage from friends, I traveled to Himachal. I lived for four months in a Parvati Valley village on just 8,000 rupees a month, gaining a wealth of insight. I trekked to 14,000 feet and sat in silent reflection at the source of a glacial river—a Darshana I may never experience again. After that massive reality check, I knew what I had to do: I must write books. As winter closed in, a divine local farmer kept saying I hailed from “Agastya Muni’s land.” Taking it as a sign, I headed to Tenkasi, planning to rent a cheap home and launch my vision there. Want to know what I did next? See my exploration articles on Coutrallam.
From 2022 to today, I have been building. This is the resolution. I have constructed the frameworks for three unique story worlds—we call them Mandalam—with the sharp intent to offer meaningful tales. The plan is for these worlds to begin as novel series, then transform into Indian comic books (Chittachitra), animated series, and finally, immersive open-world games. This vision aligns with the Indian government’s drive to boost the AVGC sector.
The work is now unfurling. In the days ahead, I’ll begin sharing all I’ve learned, step-by-step. On my YouTube channel, srinathstories, for instance, I share rediscovered data and insights from the ancient Tamil text, Thirukkural. This is all part of forming my creative tribe, GAVANI—meaning “pay attention”—to spread the joy of crafting deep story experiences. Alongside this, I am releasing my first novel series, Panchavanam: Secrets of the Enchanted Forest. It’s a voyage across a spellbinding island where four bold langur monkeys—Bishu, Manu, Maga, and Baga—embark on a quest to find their lost family, discovering their own strengths along the way.
This is the purpose that was forged in the fire of that long ordeal. It’s an invitation to you. Let’s build Indian character IPs together. Let’s acknowledge we have much to learn and apply it to bolster our nation’s soft power. I trust my culture, and I know my people will step up. Let’s embark on this sacred storytelling journey as one.
Unlock Your Story’s Potential: Professional Storytelling Services
This odyssey—from a hunt for my roots to the crafting of Panchavanam—is a testament to what I can do with a spark and a challenge. I’ve stumbled, faltered, and risen with 13 years of experience in storytelling, filmmaking, and strategy.
With a BCA and a journey from software development to authoring, I blend technical precision with creative fire. I offer narrative construction, cultural research, project management, and world-building structure.
Need someone to craft a gripping narrative for your vision? Let’s create something meaningful—together, we can set stories ablaze that resonate far and wide.
Reach me at author@srinathstories.com or srinathstories@gmail.com. I’m open to travel, relocation, and diving deep into your world.
