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When I started translating Kalki’s Ponniyin Selvan in 2010, blissfully unaware of the depth and the magnitude of the work, several people tried to dissuade me. One potential publisher even lured me with an offer to translate another work of Kalki. Reason: there were already many translations around. Yes, there were. But most of them, though done with utmost sincerity, failed to create the emotional bond with the readers which the original author had effortlessly done in the Fifties when Ponniyin Selvan was serialised in a popular magazine. I did not rush up. I did not have a target or deadline. I let the translation work progress in its own pace. That explains the six long years I spent fo...