Book Review – The White Tiger – Aravind Adiga

The book that won the Man Booker Prize in 2008 was in circulation for a long while at the library. I guess it has done its rounds and I finally managed to lay my hands on it.

My first reaction after a couple of pages was to put the book aside. It describes the dark side of India that I do not want to read about. I mean we have seen so many foreign documentaries that show the filth, the poverty and so on. Almost like what Slumdog Millionaire did… this was even worse. And it goes on through all the pages of the book. Brand India takes a beating… and some of it is rather exaggerated.

But despite being upset with the author, you do realise that there is some truth in what he writes. Maybe not totally as he projects it. 

Notwithstanding first reactions, if you have picked up the book, chances are you will continue to read on like I did. The author has an engrossing story to narrate. The language is simple, easy to read and the the book does not drag. But does it deserve a Man Booker Prize? That is questionable.

The protagonist, Balram Halwai grows up in Laxmangarh, Bihar (  referred to as Darkness). Balram refers to himself as half baked – someone who did not finish school and has partial knowledge, like so many children in India, who are pulled out of school to earn a living. ‘No boy remembers his schooling like one who was taken out of school’.

An intelligent child who impresses the school inspector, who calls him a white tiger, a rare prized animal. He is promised a scholarship, but unfortunately is pulled out of school when there is a marriage of his (girl) cousin, and the family needs more earning members to pay off the debts that result .

The story is narrated in letters ( seven of them) that Balram writes to the Chinese Premier who is due on a visit to India. Why the Chinese Premier? China is making impressive progress in all fields, however it lacks entrepreneurs, and the Premier wants to meet some of them on his tour to India.  And Balram considers himself an entrepreneur – a half baked successful entrepreneur.

The story progresses as he moves from working in a tea shop to how he gets the family to support his driving lessons. This lands him a job as a driver of the richest family in the village. How he moves with them to Delhi and the city life as seen by the poor. The conversations that he eavesdrops on between his employer ,his brother, his wife, the politicians they associate with, all as he drives them around.

He describes the glass houses the rich live in while the workers wait on them. See, the poor dream all their lives of getting enough to eat and looking like the rich. And what do the rich dream of?? Losing weight and looking like the poor."

The corruption, rigging of elections, the evil landlords, filth, poverty. Name it and it is all there in this book.

"It's amazing. The moment you show cash, everyone knows your language."

He likens the life of the poor to the roosters in a coop. The birds are huddled in the coop as the butcher picks up a bird and kills it, the others await their turn. They do not rebel. Just like the worker class. Why? Because of family ties. They remain faithful to their employers, for if they didn’t, there would be terrible repercussions on their family.

Ultimately, Balram does not seem to care about his relatives back home, he knows they will probably be erased from the earth, yet he decides to flee from the Roosters Coop, murders his employer Mr Ashok ( I have not given away the plot for those who may have wanted to read the book- it is mentioned all along from the early pages) – steals his money, and runs away. With his ill gotten wealth he starts a business of his own. He is now ‘one of the rich’ and behaves like one.

And so he ends his tale through his letters to the Chinese Premier. It could have been addressed to just about anyone. Did I miss something apart from the entrepreneur bit?

All in all, a book that makes an interesting read. I know I have to return the book to the library soon. Which I will without regret. I am not too sure if I would like a copy of the book to sit on my book shelf.

Horn Please, OK.

It's official. You can now prepone your meeting. As children, we were told repeatedly not to use the word. ‘There is no such word’, said my father. And we never used it. Now I can. But I doubt if I ever will!


English in India was introduced by the British. Specifically for trade. And Lord Macaulay later in his Minute on Education in 1853, recommended that English be promoted as lingua franca and the medium of education in India. He thought it had the necessary vocabulary for teaching modern science, philosophy, law and history.

He seemed to be a far sighted person. But he would never have imagined what Indians would do to the language. Each year, more number of words borrowed from the Indian dialect or the words coined in India are making their way into the English Dictionary.

The author of the Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language , David Crystal, predicts that Indian English will become the most widely spoken variant. 'If 100 million Indians pronounce an English word in a certain way,' he says, 'this is more than Britain's population—so, it's the only way to pronounce it’.

The Prince of Wales at a dinner for the British Asian Community, Windsor Castle in his speech spoke among other things, about the sharing of language. He said – quote ‘The most well-known examples are probably “bungalow”, “verandah” and, indeed, “shampoo”. And more recently, “chuddies” seemed to crept into the English language’. unquote


We are really a nation that believes we speak the Queen’s language. All the while, we introduce new words that we pass off as English and what probably sounds Greek to the British.

Over the years we have adapted the language too. There probably would be very few who do not use a word of English in their daily conversation. Right from the maid who will walk in and tell you why she is ‘late’… to the watchman who comes to collect ‘maintenance’ each month.

Vernacular language clubbed with English words has become the norm. The VJs, RJs, the politicians… all use it. Pepsi probably led the way with their Dil Mange More campaign and it led to a whole lot of advertising messages that became a part of accepted speech.

The film industry, which interestingly is called Bollywood, have movies which have titles in English. More recently, we have Kites, 3 idiots, Wanted, Houseful to a mix that has a local flavour like Jab We Met ( When we Met) to Love Aaj Kal ( Love Today Tomorrow – or is it Love these days?) .  When we have just Hindi titles, we have a mouthful and so we reduce them like in case of Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge to DDLJ.

While we may ‘feel off’ ( a word I 'learnt' from my daughters) that so many words have crept into the OALD ( Oxford Advanced Learners Dictionary), there has to be a difference in the English that is spoken at work and that which is spoken with friends.

As someone said – the difference is between English and Hinglish. One is the language for work and the other for fun. Otherwise we may have only one place to seek jobs – at MTV India.

(image - http://www.techtree.com/)

I Wish You Would Not Ask...

Are you one of those who will not ask, fearing you might be turned down?  And also one who is uncomfortable with those who ask without any reservations, and put you in a spot, since you find it so difficult to say NO?

I can identify with that kind.

This huge debate is on – spurred by a web posting by Andrea Donderi and subsequently an article by Burkeman that appeared in The Guardian – which I shall quote from liberally.

Whether you Ask or Guess, they say depends a lot on your upbringing. In some families, you grow up with the expectation that it's OK to ask for anything at all, but you got to realize you might get no for an answer. This is the Ask Culture. People who ask for just about anything. For a favour, for a raise. They believe they can ask for something, even if the answer may be No. But they will try anyway.


The Guess Culture on the other hand– are people, who will only request ( not ask) if they think the answer is yes. They will debate within themselves and send out feelers till they are sure, and in most cases may receive an offer even before they can pose the question.

Both seem right in their own way. But the problem is when an Asker meets a Guesser. An Asker might ask to borrow your favourite book; invite himself home to stay. And as a Guesser, you would think he is rude to ask and be put to a lot of agony by giving in, or through more pain having to refuse.

Among nationalities, the Japanese are said to belong to the Guess Culture. While the Russians are classified as Askers and sometimes thought to be rude persons to deal with. 

I think (GUESS?) it is good to have a healthy mix of both. I personally feel I am more of a Guess person, but there are times I will not hesitate to Ask, but that is only with people I am comfortable with and may take a little advantage of.  And having to say NO is tough.  But I am learning.... .  And sometimes the agony of having said No, can really weigh you down.  At times, I secretly admire the nerve of those who ask unabashedly.  I could never do it most times. Is it a virtue?  I don't know.

There are others like Jonathan Chait who think it is perfectly right to Ask, and that Guessing culture is a recipe for frustration.  He writes: Guessers, who are usually trying to be nice and are holding themselves to a higher level of politeness, ruin things for the rest of us.  I feel that this is being pretty harsh on Guessers

What do you classify as? An Asker or a Guesser?


(Image - http://www.vosibilities.com/)

Heat does strange things to men...

I realise the impact of the printed word. We were getting along fine, braving the summer heat, till now .

But two days ago we woke up to read ‘Hottest day at 44.5C’ in large, bold font in all the newspapers. The TV channels took it from there. With added visual effects, shots of dry lake beds, blazing sun et al. Suddenly the heat became unbearable. People had dour expressions.

The smiles vanished.

Fans, coolers, ACs were kept running at maximum speed and lowest temperatures. Apparently, these machines are not ‘India ready’ as some claim to be. The Electricity Department immediately took note of the increased power consumption and enforced longer hours of power cut.

I see fellow humans complaining of the heat, not stirring out of air conditioned rooms, guzzling unhealthy drinks to quench thirst. But then it does baffle me, when at mealtime, they forget their woes and find themselves seated in front of a plate of hot steaming rice over which is poured a spoon of ghee and a decent ( or should I say indecent ) serving of fresh avakayya – the famous Andhra mango pickle – made with the spiciest of Guntur red chillies. They eat with relish.

Beads of perspiration line the forehead. It is only then he smiles,


Strange are the ways of men.

I will not repeat myself... I will not repeat myself.... I will

My daughter said ‘ Ma, I think you are getting old. You are repeating yourself. ’

At least one thing was clear, she was listening to me. How else would she know I had repeated myself? That was a good sign. Sometimes, I get the feeling these kids do not listen at all . They ask a question and by the time you collect your thoughts and answer, they are deep in conversation with another or maybe absorbed in a book. So, I am not perturbed about the repetition and neither am I about getting old.

In a column Jonathan Wolff, head of philosophy at University College London, writes … Don't stop me if I've told you this before. We academics live by repeating ourselves. He continues .. that though people crave novelty, they prefer the familiar. Children watch the same videos over and over again. Adults return to familiar music. And some ( also the daughter who made the comment) read a particular book over and over again. Till the book finally fell apart.

The German philosopher Immanuel Kant, when in old age and losing his memory, used to write notes of his dinner conservations on the table cloth, in order to avoid introducing the same topic twice in one evening. I cannot do that for fear that they will think ( in their lingo) that I have ‘lost it’.

We are also guilty of  repetitive patterns that become habits. Quite a few that become involuntary becoming a familiar part of our lives. We get three newspapers at home. The other inmate, likes to read them in a particular order and does not like the pattern disturbed. So, I settle for any paper that is not being read. See, I do not get bound by habits .  At least, this particular one.  

Someone suggests that to be more aware of these repetitive things that we do, one should change the pattern. If you brush your teeth and then wash your face, they suggest that you alter the pattern. Wash your face and then brush your teeth. How does this help? The changes, even in these seemingly small insignificant habits, can bring about a better awareness of what is being done. Shift this to more important areas like those patterns at the workplace and this could throw up other choices that might be there. For better results. Well, I would like to think I am too old to try ( it helps using the age factor when it suits you!!), those young(er) can try. 

I have digressed. Repetition can be quite an engrossing subject. For the time being, maybe I should be more aware of what I am saying. Focus and concentrate. If that cannot be avoided. At least, sound wise. Well, Robert Frost could. But for that I have ‘ (And) miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep….'

                                                         (Cartoonstock.com)

Would I sound wise if I did say in Latin
Bis repetita non placent ?

o Translation: "Repetitions are not well received
AMEN

Handmade and Sun-kissed

A UK store refers to Papads or Poppadums as they call them - products that are handmade and sun kissed.....

Sun kissed? That could just produce a mild tan at the most.. definitely not a papad, that requires to be thoroughly dried.

We do anything these days to get away from the heat . Coolers, ACs, fizzy sodas, iced stuff. But in the past, summer was literally a time for everything under the sun. The ‘sun’ being the key word.

For elders, it was time to plan and prepare items for the rest of the year. Elaborate shopping lists were prepared and ingredients bought with great care. My mother's Potato Papads (Batata Happal) were a big favourite . Made with potatoes, ragi, rock salt and chilli powder . Large plastic sheets and clean muslin cloth were made ready. Suitable stones sourced to place at four corners of the sheet, just so that it stayed in place. The household ( not us!) woke up earlier than normal that day and ingredients cooked, mashed, mixed and kept ready. The papad making activity commenced as soon as the men were sent off to work. Open verandas and terraces were ideal locations. As kids, we loved eating the boiled mash - it was the tastiest thing on earth. The women rolled the perfect round papads and these were placed on the plastic sheet/cloth and kept out for the sun to do the job. All this in lightning speed to make sure there were sufficient hours of drying. As children, we were to ensure that the birds, ants, dust and pets were kept away. This was a chore that lost its charm after the initial eating of the mash was done with. We would rather be playing.

The papads were then carefully brought in as the sun went down. And kept out for another day of drying. Then they went into tins immediately for storage. Some were fried that very day, more for the compliments. Of course, those days, whatever was made at home had to be distributed. The joy was more in the sharing. Parcels ( that was another elaborate process) made and sent to various parts of the country. And sure enough, after a week, there would be the letters of appreciation.

Dehydrated vegetables, crispies of all kinds - sago, rice, dal, chillies in curd... name it and we had them dried in various forms and shapes. For consumption the year round.

Papad- making fortunately was an art that survived. From home-scale to small scale. It is an item that cannot be mechanised. And thus providing livelihood to many women. The papads left our shores and soon became a popular food abroad. In Britain, about 2 million handmade ‘poppadums’ are consumed each day. As hors d’oeuvres served with apéritif  and cocktails.

A food - it has evolved from an accompaniment with our rice and rasam to an item of fine dining in the West. It’s versatility is amazing. Fry, roast, microwave it… eat it plain, crush it in rice, add it to a salad or whatever. But as a lifestyle product…? That’s something new. But read this. It appeared in Smart Buy a lifestyle supplement of Business Line

Tick Tock, papad style

Giving the crunchy Indian papad a new lease of life, designer Mukul Goyal has launched the Papadum clocks. Available in small and large sizes in chrome and gold, these clocks are sure to add a pop of spirit to your homes. Head to lifestyle boutiques for more.

Rs 1,550 to Rs 5,695 –

Well….. what’s your take?

When the Shoe Shines Each Morning

 Good news for shoe polish manufacturers. Shoe care it appears has once again become important in the days of recession. For the past few years it appears ( in this article in The Guardian) the sales director of Cherry Blossom was a sad man. Shoe sales had gone up, but his product showed no increasing sales. When shoes got scruffy, people just went out and bought a new pair. No one tried to make the old pair last. Now, finally, thanks to recession people have rediscovered the art of shoe-care.

Apparently shoe care seems to make economic sense. Cherry Blossom sales in the UK are now 200,000 small boxes a week!  And from five colours last year, they now have 35 trendy colours on offer. Shoe repairers are also in demand

I particularly liked this bit of the article and I quote - Black still accounts for 60% of sales. And most are to those over 50 – the generation brought up to clean their shoes by parents who knew both rationing and self-respect, who knew the golden rule of shoe cleaning: that the sparkle comes only through the application of elbow grease to polish. Unquote

Shoe care. That was one of our daily tasks of school days. Each evening, while school uniforms were ironed and kept ready, shoes were arranged in pairs. First, dirt had to be wiped off the shoes and the leather cleaned. Polish was applied and then made to shine with a flannel cloth. While canvas shoes were washed each week, scrubbed in fact, and once dry, a coat of white wet polish was applied and allowed to stand overnight.  The next day we had sparkling white shoes. Inspections were carried out at the school assembly by our seniors,  and those possessing dirty shoes were made to stand separately and given a dressing down.

Those were the days of black Bata shoes and white Carona canvas.

We also had these little boys with shoe polish kits who were always present at bus stops. I always wondered why people used their services, I mean all of us polished our shoes at home, so why did anyone need to have them polished outside? But generally they were men, probably on their way to work or possibly for an interview. Of course, these boys managed better looking shoes with their labour.  They also inspired a Raj Kapoor film - Boot Polish. 

When Cherry Blossom completed 100 years of the brand, they used a Charlie Chaplin like figure to emphasise "100 years of making perfect gentlemen..."

Most shoe care polish kits these days are a little different. Not little tins, but a tube with a little brush attached. You press it on the shoe and polish it right away. The shine is not the same, but the effort is much less. And as for the white canvas shoes – I do not see many children wearing them. They have been replaced by the expensive Reeboks and Nikes.


Would polished shoes be back again?  Hard to say.  Here is a generation that spends good money buying torn jeans.  But then, this is also a generation that is unpredictable.  It could well be a case of India Shining.

Faith

This picture was taken outside Mahalaxmi Temple, Mumbai.  There was this elderly muslim gentleman going around with incense ( unfortunately I was not quick enough and I just managed to capture the scene as he left the place ) collecting alms from the shopkeepers  Not a common sight .  He would have in most places stayed close to his own place of worship.  But the shopkeepers here did not seem to find it unusual.    

Right now in my city, there are communal riots.  And most believe it is politically motivated.  Which makes me wonder, why religion is given so much importance?  I recite the Hanuman Chalisa each day, but to be frank I did not know it was the Hanuman Jayanti today!!  And that I realised when I saw some noisy ruffians on two wheelers carrying saffron flags.  I do not ever remember the festival being celebrated in this fashion.

  

I have always claimed that I am not overly religious. Yet, I do as I said recite the Chalisa, listen to devotional music in the morning, light the lamp in the evening. And there is no real compulsion for me to visit the temple. As a dutch comedian is reported to have said - I do believe in God, but I do not trust his ground personnel. 
I would rather observe my faith in my own manner, within the walls of my home.

I must  also confess that I recite the Hanuman Chalisa on nights when sleep does not come easy..... a far better thing to do than counting sheep....

Game...Set... Match

They say the job market has opened up.  People are moving. Some for money.  Some for a more satisfying job.

But it does seem that one can be successful even when you are not enjoying the job.  Take for instance Andre Agassi.  I read the review ( actually read it over and over again to make sure I read right!) of his autobiography OPEN.  The winner of 8 grand slams actually admits that he hated and still hates the game! And yet he was so good at it!  There are many, I'm sure, who would envy his wealth and lavish lifestyle. 

There are other reasons that might prompt a job change. And those who wish a change should give it a good thought.  Is it worth it?  This article asks you to question yourself -

Do you have the skills, interests and personality to do well in your “dream job”?  Do you know the entry-level requirements  and training available to get them? Are you willing and financially able to go back to school or get that training?  Are you comfortable with starting at the bottom of a different profession?  Does the marketplace need what you want to do? Have you talked to people about the job, and do you understand it?  And do family members support changes in their lives and the family budget that might come with a job change?

Andre Agassi was sent for his training to the famous Nick Bollettieri's Tennis Academy in Florida at the age of 13.  The training was so intense that he had to drop out of school.  It is said that with the possible exception of boxers, tennis players have less formal schooling than any other pro athletes and this leaves them with very few options.  This probably also left Agassi with no choice than to do his best.

There will be Monday morning blues!  But I guess if you are those who sometimes feels that you should have a better 'more satisfying job' -do be on the lookout .....and meanwhile think of Andre Agassi - you could be a winner too, no matter what you do. 

Agassi picture - davidicke.com

May I Have Your Attention Please?

I read a tongue-in-cheek article in The Mint, by Harish Bhat COO, Titan Industries. He writes that organisations are worried about the employees losing battle to Continuous Partial Attention ( more about this later). Things like constantly checking mails, texting on mobiles are not the main threat. According to him, the most potent factor disrupting corporate discussions is the cookie platter. Especially if it constitutes delicious blackberries, cashew nuts, almonds, hazelnuts and flavoured creams. Attention he writes, shifts from the discussion to the plate. Each eyeing the coveted cookie. And he has this amusing cookie classification of managers. I could not resist posting it here.


1. The Grabber- who identifies his favourite cookie and grabs it – no concern about the others. This man has absolute clarity on what he wants in life and will waste no time getting there

2. The Vacillator who cannot choose between the cashew and the chocolate cookie. Will forever be dissatisfied with his choices in life;

3. Health Fanatic who may push the plate away – a man for whom life is a constant struggle with a fat-obsessed society. Or if he succumbs, may do away with dinner.

4. The Picky Eater, who will pick out the chocolate chip or the cashew from the cookie. This one is likely to pick and choose his way through life

5. A Civilized Sacrificer, who will wait for the last cookie, a nice guy to have around, particularly if you want to borrow money;

6. A Carrybag, who pockets the cookies left on the platter. After all the company would have paid for it all and it makes no sense to leave them behind. He has a maximizing approach to life and will claim every penny which he perceives is due to him.

I found it amusing. For me the biggest dilemma is being faced with an assorted ‘mitai' box. The sweet tooth of mine wants all, but cannot decide. I could be the Vacillator, the Picky Eater or the Health Fanatic! But never the grabber ( honest)

I am glad that I do not have Mr Bhat to analyse my actions.

And now to the CPA. There is never a dearth of jargon these days . I guess it grew with the christening of the Personnel Department to Human Resources. The CPA or the Continuous Partial Attention is supposedly different from multi-tasking.

We all do an enormous amount of multi-tasking. We did not have the term for it in our yesteryears. We just got up each morning as if endowed with a new pair of hands. Cooking, serving breakfast, packing lunch boxes, school bags …..and having to get ready for work. We did not even have an interesting term like multi-tasking. The work was plain, dull, boring and mundane. If work had to be done, we had no choice but to do it. No two ways about it. How else would we have sent the kids to school, leave for work on time, and keep the elders happy?

Linda Stone, who coined the word CPA, says when one multi-tasks, there is a motivation by a desire to be more productive and more efficient. But here each activity has the same priority . Like eating lunch and filing papers. Where one or more activities is somewhat automatic. That activity can be paired with another activity that’s also automatic or with an activity that requires more cognition, like writing an email or talking on the phone. We multi-task to create more opportunity for ourselves – more time to do more and time to relax more.

That makes sense. And CPA? In the case of continuous partial attention, one is motivated by a desire not to miss anything. A person is engaged in two activities that both demand cognition. Like talking on the phone and driving. Mailing and participating in a conference call. Carrying on a conversation while texting at the same time. Both need attention. And however much the youngsters think they are smart doing two or more such tasks, there are bound to be slip-ups.

If you pause to think, there is some truth in all this. And if you do more than pause and ponder, there is more likelihood that one will come up with newer jargon, only serving to complicate life further.

The only concurrence is that whether it is CPA or multi-tasking, while doing more than just one job, attention shifts focus all the time. One can never be engaged in deep thought. And attention is our most powerful tool.

Well right now, my thoughts are with that small helping of frozen dessert in my freezer. We have been informed that we are in for power cuts. And I would hate to think of it melting and refreezing. Not good for frozen food. And the Health Fanatic that I am, I would rather have it right now. When it is in good condition . And no other activity to accompany it either. This requires total attention!

Khare Master - A book review

I honestly do not know why I picked this book at the library. It had a rather eerie cover. The pages were yellow and the text in small print.

I found it rather difficult at first to proceed. But as the book progressed it held my interest. Originally written in Marathi, it is set in the early 1900. A story of a middle class Maharashtrian family. It covers the relationship between parents and their children, with spouse, with friends. Aspects of the national movement, conversions ( yes, even then!), conflicts and loneliness.

The book written by Malati Bedekar under the pen name Vibhavari Shirurkar, when she was 88, is a semibiographical account of her father, Anantrao Khare. A man from a small village of Guhargar, who was so forward thinking for one of his time or perhaps even today.

Kharemaster left his village when he was 14 and came to Bombay, as it was known then, to study art. Here he came in contact with Raosaheb Rege, who realised that this young boy was not like any ordinary village lad . Raosaheb also taught his daughter at home, because he believed that women must expand their role beyond the rolling pin and sharpen their intellectual skills. This seemed to have a lasting effect on the young Khare.

When there was a plague epidemic in Bombay, he left for Godnadi where he was an art teacher at a local missionary school. His first two children were daughters, but this did not bother Kharemaster at all, and on the other hand - he vowed to educate them.

There were times of inner conflict for Kharemaster. He supported the cause of independence but at the same time had to work for a school run by the British. He had several mouths to feed and realised he had no alternative but to continue his job and earn to support the family He felt he was a coward in many ways, but his friend Deshpandemaster said that he should stop thinking on those lines, ‘We are all a little scared inside. Even a wrestler has to start exercising slowly and build his muscles up gradually. It’s the same thing with courage. Slowly one faces more and more difficult situations and bravery becomes second nature. Without your knowing it, that’s exactly what you‟ve been doing. When you’re convinced something is right, haven’t you been following the dictates of your conscience without worrying about what anyone says or feels?’

He ultimately decided to limit the reform to his house and strenghtened his resolve to educate his children. When he felt the teachers at the girls school were not competent, he sent his daughters to a boys school… something that was not done. During famine, he got into milk business, which was unheard of …considering that they belonged to the Brahmin community. But it atleast ensured that there was milk at home and excess was sold to the villagers.

As he sent the children away from home for further education, the author writes .. that her father did not realize then, that he had planted the seeds of his future loneliness.

The children were engrossed in their own lives, and though they acknowledged his presence and perhaps, loved and respected him, he felt communication had been lost . It was ironical that he had educated his children, and yet felt inadequate and believed he was a source of embarassment for them and their friends as he was not educated! He was also disillusioned when his son, who had become an engineer, had to bribe to earn a contract. He was very disturbed. Why had values changed?

It is an engrossing book. And each one will relate to it in their own way. It will remind you, perhaps of real-life stories narrated by parents and grandparents. I found some kind soul had uploaded the book and if the review has interested you, read it here.

Being Young: Growing Old

I never thought about this before. And it is not about looks. Incidentally, I must admit that I was lured into hunting for the product which shows the not- so- young glamorous thing advertising for a brand of anti-wrinkle cream. I went looking for it at the store. One look at the price tag of the tiny bottle ( it did not look so small in the ad!) had me convinced about the need to age gracefully.

My thoughts are about being young, younger and youngest. It is fine when you are young – as by the number that you fill as age in various forms. Between the ages of 0-12, that may mean being pampered ( a wee bit I must admit), bullied ( it does happen all the time) or spoilt ( no, I never was – my brother might debate about that). But the youngest by law of nature does grow old too. Now, that is the subject of this post.

As the kids grow and leave home, you cannot look around for someone to answer the door, the phone, the small errands. It takes more than a little effort. And consider family outings. Especially the last one. Two in the 50s , two in the 60s and two approaching 80s. Not that I mind getting up while an elder (relatively…) walks in, or offering to help clear the table. This comes naturally and ungrudgingly. On the positive side, some pampering does happen here too!

But it was not easy when we went out in a six seater van. Six seats – the seating by itself comfortable and not a problem. Getting in…Oh, that was! … ‘the youngest’ had to balance on this tiny projected piece of metal that had to pass off as a step, double up to avoid receiving a nasty bump on the head, all in wedding finery. Now, that WAS difficult. And one hoped the ride continued forever. As getting out was even tougher.

Phew! It then dawned on me that being young(er) as you age is difficult and demanding. I’m sure Bryan Adam’s did not even remotely think of my predicament. But, I might as well resign to being ‘ 18 till I die’

Jer Mahal - Glimpses of Mumbai - Part - II

I took this picture as we were driving past (so I just got this portion ) because it really looked quaint and reminded me of the old Bombay.  It was only later when I had downloaded the images and examined them a little closely that I saw the only board that I could make out - Kashmir Hotel - which I googled, more to find out the locality and a little more about the place.  Imagine my surprise when I identified it as Jer Mahal, classified as a Grade III structure under the Heritage Rules in Mumbai. 

Jer Mahal is a chawl system of (five) buildings, around 120 years old, built with the sole purpose of providing cheap accommodation to those who came to work in Mumbai.  Located along Girgaum Street on one side and Kalbadevi on the other it showcases both the Indian vernacular and the European style of architecture.   Heritage III buildings are considered to be of importance to the townscape and add to the character of a locality. The façade of the building also cannot be tampered with.

The site - http://theheritagekids.org/ hopes to involve the young to preserve the heritage.  The organisation believes that  there  is a great possibility that every old building you see anywhere has a story to tell. There is so much in our arts, crafts, structures, monuments that they feel that we can learn from this heritage to build on our future.

They plan  to identify architecture units / sites and monuments.  After their research of the site, clean up pictures and show how the place can be revived and preserved.  It hopes to appeal to the occupants of these buildings, and approach corporate houses and organisations to help them in their endeavour.

Their plans for the Jer Mahal is to look like this - 

They believe that the building and the surroundings can be cleaned and the architectural beauty be restored.

It would be no easy task. BMC permission, legal help in relocating the tenants, architectural help for restoring the structure and of course funds.

The BMC permission would probably be the toughest hurdle.  Around two years ago, the Mumbai Metropolitan Region Development Authority prepared a fresh list of heritage structures in the city. According to the revised lists, Jer Mahal is to be re-designated as a Grade-II structure. The revised list has been submitted to the government for notification. The notification is yet to see the light. And by not doing so, the government according to Conservation architect Abha Narain Lambah is giving a signal to developers to destroy heritage buildings. Moving the building to Grade-II, could be the only way to save the Jer Mahal.

I hope the conservationists have their way.  The building caught my eye in the otherwise crowded area. With most old buildings giving way to ugly, unplanned concrete structures, the city is fast losing its charm.

I really do hope to see the Jer Mahal in my future visits to the city.

The 4th Idiot

Did you watch the movie - The 3 Idiots ?  You probably did . And were you  the 4th idiot ?  Don't be offended - but you could have been one - if you were the 'movie hogger' ,  and be assured not the only one - if you had bought yourself the nachos, the rich cheesy dip, the heavily buttered popcorn, the fizzy drink, the brownie etc etc. As the article in The Mint states – there is nothing regular about the servings at the multiplex. They are all huge tubs or huge glasses of cola, much more than what one can consume.

The scenario - You probably left home two hours before the movie. Did a bit of window shopping or walked into stores, that you have to essentially pass, to reach your destination. And then made to wait outside the movie hall for atleast twenty minutes, where the waft from the food court is hard to resist. A little snack before making your way in seems only right! Half way through the movie, you try and resist the urge to snack, more because the thought of queuing up and ordering food is not quite appealing… but then you succumb when the attendant walks up to your seat to take your order. And probably a wise thing too, after all your neighbour has just come in with his huge tub of popcorn, and is munching loudly in your ear.

All that food - so satisfying - and when you walk out three hours later, your wallet would be the only thing lighter. The extra butter, the fried foods, the empty calories would stay with you a lot longer than you think. A large tub of butter popcorn gives you as many as 1,000 calories, 78g of fat, of which 45g is saturated, cholesterol- generating type of fat, and a medium cola tumbler (450ml approx.) has about 180 calories, i.e., 12 teaspoons of sugar - when all you need is 3 teaspoons for the whole day!

It is hard to avoid the snacking when all around you is FOOD.  Huge giant sized posters of food, the wonderful aroma of delicacies, and the sight of people looking visibly content munching away to glory.  But there are ways out, says the article in Mint. 
Easier said than done - but worth giving it a try - do not stay hungry the three hours of movie watching. This can lead to a binge attack. The trick is to eat a healthy, hearty meal before you leave. Avoid eating at the venue ( if you are a regular movie goer) – so that the emotional trigger for food does not set in the minute you walk in. If you must, then eat only during the interval. Cut down the cheese and butter toppings.  Share the tub. If you find that very difficult, have a salad before you leave home, so that you can indulge on the popcorn ( without the butter of course).

Food courts probably are healthy for the multiplex finances, but definitely not for you. So eat wisely and avoid the mindless munching at the movie.

A little bit of restraint and a whole lot of will power for sure!


Avoid being the 4th idiot !

picture source - Garfield - coloring-pictures.net

Haji Ali Dargah - Glimpses of Mumbai Part I

Haji Ali is a mosque and a dargah, constructed in 1431, and is located on an islet off the coast in Mumbai.  I had gone to attend a nephew's marriage and was lucky to have stayed where I had a good view of the dargah. 

The day was clear except for a slight mist ( or was it pollution - since it was almost past 10 in the morning). 

This was as the sun was setting and the water was receding too.

 And there were patterns on the shore as the water receded and the reflection of the setting sun made a beautiful sight.

I did want to visit the shrine but could not for lack of time and company.  But then I did have my fill of the beautiful scene.

Flying High

Sankranti the harvest festival is a favourite of mine.  And largely because of kite flying.  I was an expert at it.  And to my surprise a couple of years ago, found that the skill was intact.

This year, weather was quite a dampner to the festivities.  Rain, incessant drizzle and cloudy skies coupled with exorbitant costs, must have prevented people from buying kites.  I found fewer kites in the sky. 

It is believed that kites were brought to India by the Chinese travelers - Fa Hien and Hiuen Tsang.  Indian kites are called the fighter kites - simple paper and bamboo - with special thread called manja, that is sharp and used for fighting with other kites.  We made it at home many years ago - with a mixture of plant sap, ground glass and colour - that would be applied on ordinary thread to give it that 'cutting edge'.

There is a story about kite flying in ancient India. The rulers or the nawabs of Lucknow used to fly their kites from their palace rooftops with a small purse of gold or silver attached as an incentive for the others to try cutting down the kite to retrieve the precious contents. It is also rumoured that the nawabs were not one to give away their money so easily and so they would have their own men out in the street to ensure that they got their kite back, with the purse intact. 

As a youngster, it seems so cruel now, that there were times that I chased a couple of birds by taking a deep dive with my kite, swooping down on the unsuspecting creatures and frightening them out of their wits.

It could have been because of kites that were stuck in trees that we had unusual bird activity in our area.  Birds that were disturbed from their usual habitat were flying around, and I got to see many of them today.

and this one

and this bluebird

If anyone can identify these birds for me, I would appreciate that.

And for a birds eye view of the ground below, is Nicolas Chorier, a Frenchman who specialises in "kite photography".

Chorier makes 40-sq-foot kites from siliconised nylon and carbon or fibreglass rods. The camera sits in a cradle on a line beneath the kite. The camera cradle operates by remote control . Kite and camera are flown to the required height. Chorier carries the remote control on his shoulder and the video monitor around his neck. He walks and raises and lowers the kite for shooting angles.  He has taken some amazing pictures in India and brought out a book Kite's Eye View: India Between Earth and Sky.
 Jama Masjid -

and the Jodhpur fort

And yes, he did lose a camera, dropping it in the Yamuna river behind the Taj Mahal. It is quite a technique to take pictures with a remote control. But, I am sure the most difficult task  of the whole exercise would have been to get permission from the Indian government to take these pictures, considering the fact, that at ground level at most tourist spots, photography is either prohibited or at an additional cost.

Well, inclement weather it may have been for kite flying today, but not for the other festivites that are part of Sankranti.  The rangolis were there and so were the sweets.  And I hope the harvest is bountiful and the food prices come down as quickly as they shot up.

The Bull In A China Shop

http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/ato/lowres/aton1688l.jpg

……Taking off from the last post of animals in Indian crafts…

After drawing on caves, man also proceeded to record them in literature. Stories woven around animals as in Aesop’s Fables. They also found worthy mention in the Bible. And this continued in modern literature and speech.

I came across this article where the author writes that animals apart from clothing and feeding many of us, they do much—metaphorically speaking—to make our language as colourful as it is. From as mad as a box of frogs to bats in the belfry, and from as proud as a peacock to being up to your armpits in alligators.

Consider the ‘man’s best friend ‘ – the dog – is often a part of our daily conversation. Think about it, you have been ‘working like a dog', 'leading a dog’s life', being 'dog tired', while someone else is the ‘lucky dog’!

And what would we do without the adorable Snoopy, the feline Garfield, the imaginary Hobbes….

Our generation was brought up with serious poems as To a Skylark or The Ode to a Nightingale . So, it was a pleasant change being introduced to Ogden Nash through my daughter’s text book. And his animal kingdom inspired poems are always fun to read.

The Wasp
The wasp and all his numerous family
I look upon as a major calamity.
He throws open his nest with prodigality,
But I distrust his waspitality.

The Octopus
Tell me, O Octopus, I begs
Is those things arms, or is they legs?
I marvel at thee, Octopus;
If I were thou, I'd call me Us.

The Cow
The cow is of the bovine ilk;
One end is moo, the other, milk.

I leave you with Winston Churchill’s famous quote - A cat looks down upon a man, and a dog looks up to a man, but a pig will look a man in the eye and see his equal.

Well?

'Crafty' Animals

Ever since prehistoric days, man has always depicted animals in his drawings -

Prehistoric Rock Paintings of Bhimbetaka

And now through his craft . 

Handcrafted in Kashmir, this quaint tea cozy is embroidered with wool fibers. Legend is that the first cozy was crafted of wool by a farmer's wife. When coming in from work, her husband threw his woolen cap on the table and it landed on the teapot. Much to their surprise, the cap kept the tea steaming hot for some time. 

Leather craft from Nimmalakunta, a village from Andhra Pradesh.  The craft of making leather puppets or Tolu Bommalu, which they practice, is quite an old craft.  Because of low demand for the puppets, most of craftsmen have shifted to making lampshades and other decorative artefacts.

Gujarat applique is mainly based on patchwork , has a distinctive style of its own.  Coloured and patterned fabric is finely cut in different sizes and shapes and sewn together on a plain background . The stitches in gaudy colours are not hidden and add to the beauty of the patchwork.

And the wooden animal figurines with brass inlay work.

And Madhubani paintings from Bihar. Cotton is wrapped around a bamboo stick to serve as a brush, which is dipped in colors and applied on to the fabric. The outline is done with double lines. No shading is done. The gaps between the two lines are filled with cross or straight lines.

Wrought iron figures - Bastar Tribal arts               

Papier-Mache figures

Only a few ..... the list is endless.

Pictures taken at Dili Haat, Delhi and Shilparamam, Hyderabad.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

When The Days of The Trees are Numbered

In my childhood, holiday travel was mostly by road. And all along the drive,  were trees which had numbers etched on them. I would count as we went along, looking for missing numbers. I was told that was how various government departments made sure trees were not felled by unscrupulous elements.


And to think that presently trees are being numbered in the Delhi University Campus to facilitate their cutting to make space for events in the forthcoming Commonwealth Games. While the construction of stadia is a matter of concern, the cutting of trees is not.

It is probably the sight of barren land that has awakened my love for nature. I gush with delight when I see trees, flowers, birds ….  

( pic courtesy - VP )

The Banyan Tree, that is fast disappearing,  brings back vivid memories of the pages in my science book. Illustrate the parts of a tree was an oft repeated question and we would invariably reproduce the diagram of the Banyan Tree, neatly labeled. These trees were most visible as we drove along the highway, and constantly served as a bus shelter where district buses would stop to pick up their passengers.

Remember the famous lines by Joyce Kilmer?

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

This poem, so popular was/is thought to be  simplistic and lacking in substance. 
There is even a parody by Odgen Nash "Song of the Open Road" with more than an ounce of truth


I think that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree.
Indeed, unless the billboards fall,
I'll never see a tree at all

( replace billboard with apartments/malls for Indian scenario)

Imagine All the People Living Life in Peace – The Bahá’í Temple

Was John Lennon inspired by the Bahá’í Faith when he penned the lyrics of the song ‘Imagine’. He and the Prophet founder of the faith Bahá’u’lláh, who said “The earth is but one country and mankind its citizens,” seem to have a lot in common.

I was in Delhi for a short visit and made a visit to the Bahá'í Mashriqu'l-Adhkar, better known as the "Lotus Temple" ( Kamal Mandir as the auto drivers of Delhi know it). As you approach the temple, one gets the first glimpse as the road takes a curve, and you gasp. Then it goes out of sight till you are almost there.

As you walk into their premises, every step, seems to be the ideal photo op. Cameras, mobile phones all work overtime. People who may otherwise be camera shy request you to take their picture with the temple in the background.

Constructed to resemble a lotus flower, the temple made of marble, cement, dolomite and sand stands on 26 acres of land, . The Persian architect Fariborz Sahba from Canada, created the beautiful structure composed of 27 free-standing marble clad "petals" arranged in clusters of three to form nine sides. Nine pools encompass the building and nine doors open on to a central hall.

The structure is slightly more than 40 metres tall and it took 800 engineers, technicians, workers and artisans almost ten years to complete the task. At a lecture at Yale, the architecht is reported to have said that the temple was built with primitive methods, but the dedication of the workers more than made up for the lack of technology available at that time. The doors of the temple were thrown open to the public in December 1986

As we approach the temple, we are requested to remove our footwear and maintain silence within the main inner hall. Volunteers of different nationalities guide the tourists. ‘You may sit as long as you wish. You may belong to any religion, but you are free to pray ’ . Photography is not permitted inside and therefore one could not capture the beautifully structured dome. No idols, no noise, no bells, no chants. It is so peaceful and the silence unconsciously nudges you into closing your eyes in prayer. What is more amazing is that the average Indian known for his noisy demeanour is silent without being monitored. Such is the effect of the magnificent structure .

The building uses natural light that streams through the inner folds of the petals of the temple, and the construction is based on the Mughal ventilation technique and has an amazing inflow of fresh air and therefore banishes the need for an AC – that is conspicuous by its absence.

As we walk out, we are asked if we have the time to visit the museum at the other end which houses literature of the faith and pictures of the Bahá’í places of worship in other parts of the world. It is worth a quick visit, and if you have more time, view the video that shows the construction of the temple at different stages.

I did not feel the need to be a Bahá’í to appreciate their ideology. I guess all peace loving individuals feel that way. I wish all places of worship were like the Bahá'í Mashriqu'l-Adhkar temple – clean surroundings, peaceful and quiet – conducive to meditation and prayer.

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one