shevlin's world

Dr. Grinto Davy, of the Smart Escaso Club, guarantees weight loss, if food is eaten at two-hour intervals. Treatments, for film stars like Kavya Madhavan and Bhavna, include using products from the Dead Sea

Photo by Mithun Vinod

By Shevlin Sebastian

Dr. John Augustine, a Kochi-based orthopaedic surgeon, was in despair. For three years he had starved himself and had not lost even half a kilo. At 133 kgs, and at nearly 6 feet tall, he looked massive. However, he would frequently suffer from back pains, because of this excessive weight.

“After a four-hour operation, I would feel very tired,” he says. It was at this moment of desperation that he came to the Smart Escaso [Spanish word for slim] Club run by Dr. Grinto Davy.

An affable and fluent speaker, Davy had a simple formula for John. “When you eat, you should aim to not fill your stomach, but to kill your hunger,” he says.

So, every morning, at 8.30 am, John had his breakfast, which consisted, sometimes, of idlis or uppuma. At 10.30 am, he had three cashew nuts. Then lunch at 12.30 pm, which was the usual meal of rice, sambhar and vegetables. But at 2.30 pm he was asked to eat a few cashew nuts or almonds. “The aim was to keep the energy levels up,” says Davy. At 5.30 pm, another small snack, followed by dinner at 7.30 pm.

“There should be a three-hour interval before you go to sleep,” says Davy. “The problem of having rice or chicken late at night is that it does not get digested, and ends up getting stored around the stomach.”

In three months, John lost 25 kgs. And, after a further two months, his weight had gone down to 101 kgs. “In John's case, since the muscle weight is high, being 100 kgs is fine,” says Davy. Today John has a lot of energy even in the evenings, his back pain is gone, and so has the occasional migraine headache.

“This is a scientific method,” says John, who has also tried the General Motors, as well as the Atkins High Protein Diet. “In the Escaso method, you can have different varieties of food. There is no dieting at all. Many Hollywood actresses, after giving birth, have used the same plan. The best part is that there are no pills to swallow.”

Meanwhile, when patients are too heavy, they suffer from joint pains, and are unable to do any exercise. So Davy gives them a neuro-muscular stimulation. “When we exercise two things happen: muscle contraction and relaxation,” says Davy. “If you place an electrode on the muscle, and give an electrical stimulation, the same thing can be replicated.” This stimulation is done on the tummy, waist and hip areas, where there are large muscle groups. “Research has confirmed that this improves the functional capacity,” says Davy.

Many film stars, like Bhavna and Kavya Madhavan have come to the club. “For two years, I avoided rice and ate only oats, to lose weight, but nothing happened,” says Kavya. “But two months after I began on the Escaso method, I had lost 8 kilos. So this diet has worked really well for me.”

But Davy says that the stars, as well as his clients from the 19 to 35 year age group come for treatment, more, with the desire to look good, rather than for health reasons.

So Davy has got some unusual treatments like the Dead Sea mineral treatment. “I use the products from this river [located on the border between Israel and Jordan ],” says Davy. “It is a body pampering treatment. The Dead Sea minerals are very good for the skin.”

Sometimes, the mud from the sea is rubbed all over the body. You have to remain still for 40 minutes. Later, the dead cells on the skin are removed by using a good scrub. Then there is a steam bath. Thereafter, there is a massage with butter. The benefit is that the skin becomes soft and has a glow. Dead Sea minerals can also be used for those who also suffer from dry or allergic skin. “If you have itching and allergies, this treatment has a very good impact,” says Davy.

The doctor's most gratifying experience was when a 26-year-old girl, Sudha, weighing 91 kilos, came to the clinic. “She suffered from poor self-esteem because she had been teased a lot,” says Davy. “When I met her, she did not even look at me. Instead, she stood at one corner of the room.” Thanks to the treatment, Sudha went down to 56 kgs and is about to get married. “In fact, the other day, Sudha had come to invite me for her wedding,” says a smiling Davy.

(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

Bollywood actor Makarand Deshpande has made a mark, by playing a musician, in the blockbuster Malayalam hit, 'Amen'

By Shevlin Sebastian

The drunk music band leader Pothachen (Makarand Deshpande) makes his entrance in the Malayalam film, 'Amen', by jumping fully-dressed – in a multi-coloured jacket and white cap – into the river. Then he swims to the shore, climbs out, and enters a bar, where he has a confrontation with another band leader, Louis Pappen (Kalabhavan Mani). They had been rivals for years.

Makarand breaks a glass, picks up a piece, chews and swallows it. Thereafter, he takes a patch of blood from his bloodied mouth and wipes it on the edge of the clarinet, all the time looking, with narrowed eyes, at Louis Pappen. The scene is riveting, to say the least.

“When I read the script, I got very excited by Pothachan's entrance,” says Makarand, a notable actor in Bollywood. “Pothachan takes part in inter-church competitions and is determined to win each time. He is ambitious as well as arrogant.”

It is a movie that is steeped in a Christian ethos, and set in the village of Kumarangeri in Kuttanad, south Kerala. So, did he have a problem understanding the mind-set? “Not at all,” says Makarand. “I grew up in Bandra in Mumbai, where I had a lot of Catholic friends. And with them I would attend midnight mass during Christmas, and, sometimes, on Sunday mornings.”

Makarand is not surprised that 'Amen' has become a blockbuster hit and completed 100 days. “There was an energy on the set which was wonderful,” he says. “It was similar to what I felt when I was shooting for 'Satya' [Director Ram Gopal Varma's big hit, in 1998, on the Mumbai underworld]. Back then, all of us knew that we were making something special even as the shoot was going on. I felt the same in 'Amen'.

On the set, what gladdened Makarand was the way the locals took him to heart. “The people clapped whenever I did a shot,” he says. “Perhaps it was because I was doing over-the-top acting.” The Bollywood actor also looked outlandish, with his wildly growing brown hair and thick moustache and beard.

Director Lijo Jose Pellissery says that the people had not seen an actor like Makarand before. “So they felt entertained by his performance,” he says.

Makarand's most moving moment occurred when the last day's shoot was completed at 2 a.m. He was standing on a stage and there were 200 junior artistes milling around, because the climax was a competition between two bands outside a church in front of a large crowd.

Lijo got up on the stage and said, “We admire and respect Makarand's professionalism and his co-operation throughout the shoot.” The producer, Fareed Khan, then gave a gift to Makarand. Later, when the Bollywood actor opened it, he got a shock. It was his favourite Tissot watch. “I could not believe it,” he says. “I was so happy that I was in tears.”

Makarand is also happy about the present direction of Mollywood. “Earlier, film-makers in Kerala were obsessed only about the content,” he says. “Now they have become tech-savvy. They are using the latest equipment, just like in Bollywood.”

And there are similarities which he noticed. “There is a passion in both industries to make good films,” says Makarand. “The good news is that Mollywood is getting producers for off-beat films. I am glad that an off-beat film like 'Amen' has found such a large audience.”

And thanks to the film, Makarand has also gained a large audience in Kerala.

(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

Author Rashmi Bansal's latest book, 'Follow Your Rainbow', focuses on 25 women entrepreneurs who started their business from scratch and made it a success

By Shevlin Sebastian

“I was most impressed by the story of Manju Bhatia,” says Rashmi Bansal, the author of ‘Follow Your Rainbow’, (Westland Publishers), a book about women entrepreneurs. “Manju began working at 16 in a pharmaceutical company. At 26, she became the Joint Managing Director of Vasuli Recoveries, a pan-India loan recovery company which handles cases worth Rs 500 crore and employs 250 people, all of whom are women.”

Contrary to people’s perceptions, it is easier for a woman to recover a loan than a man. “Most of the time, the defaulter, who is usually a man, becomes embarrassed and pays up,” says Rashmi. There was a case of a minister in Madhya Pradesh who was not even aware that he had defaulted. When Manju spoke to him, he immediately paid up.

There are other success stories. Paru Jaykrishna’s family was in trouble. Their textile business had collapsed. Undaunted, Paru started a pigment company called Asahi Songwom, Now, with the help of her two sons, who got degrees in finance and marketing from American universities, the group is now worth Rs 300 crore.

Rajni Bector, who was married into a wealthy family in Ludhiana , enjoyed making ice creams and cakes. One day, with an initial investment of Rs 300, she started an ice-cream making unit in her kitchen. Today, her firm, Cremica, is a Rs 500 crore company. They make bread, buns, biscuits, sauces, syrups and snacks, among many other items.

Meena Bindra had traveled all over the country as the wife of a Navy officer. One day, in 1982, aged 39, she took a bank loan of Rs 8000, and began designing and selling ethnic wear. Today, ‘Biba’ has become a national brand, worth Rs 300 crore.

And there are women who are also shining in unusual ventures. Binapani Talukdar exports Assamese handicrafts; Nirmala Kandalgaonkar is in the business of vermicomposting; Leela Bordia deals in traditional blue pottery; Deepa Soman runs a market research company; Nina Lekhi sells canvas bags through her Rs 34 crore company, Baggit; In Pondicherry, A. Ameena, clad in a burqa, is running a sawdust factory, PJP Industries.

Asked the difference between male and female entrepreneurs, Rashmi says, “Usually, a male businessman can devote 100 per cent of his time to his work, because there is somebody at home to look after everything else. I don’t think women have that freedom. Even as they are running their companies, they also have to play the role of daughter, wife and mother. As a result, their firms grow over a longer period of time.”

Usually, a woman comes into her own only when she is in her forties. By then the children have grown up and she is free of many responsibilities. “It is only then that they can concentrate on the business and make it grow,” says Rashmi.

But this growth is based on moral values. “Women are not driven so much by money alone,” says Rashmi. “They will not go for high growth for the sake of growth. They are more ethical and focused on building a sustainable and long-term business. They want to provide high-value products and services. Whatever they do should be meaningful. They don’t look for power and status. They are not driven by the same things as men. They want to create something beautiful.”

Women also have a social attitude. “They want to make a contribution to society,” says Rashmi. “If something is detrimental or harmful to people, I don’t think women will get into that business. Some of them have told me that the quality of what they are producing is very important.”

Unfortunately, most men do not have this mind-set. “Several times, men will cut corners, in the pursuit of growth,” says Rashmi. “That is why we have a society which abounds in masculine values like aggression, fierce competition and dubious methods.”

Incidentally, Rashmi had come to Kochi to give a talk to The Indus Entrepreneurs group. And she had some interesting experiences in Kerala. “A young man came up and said that after reading my books he was able to leave his IT company and start a business,” says Rashmi, who has written four other books on entrepreneurship, which have sold over 7.5 lakh copies. “Many people read my books like a story, but for a few people it has made a difference in their lives. That makes me happy.”

But Rashmi is not happy about the status of women these days. “The good news is that women are getting a lot more exposure and education,” she says. “Unfortunately, the family expects them to be modern as well as traditional at the same time. In Kerala I met a woman who said that most of her friends were already married, and this girl was only 22. I was surprised. I thought that in a state where so many people are educated, women would have a better chance of going into careers.”

At the College of Engineering, in Chengannur, Rashmi urged the girls to ask their parents to help them achieve their dreams. “Can’t we make our own decisions in life?” Rashmi said. “After all, boys get five to six years, before they get married. Why can’t girls get the same amount, to build a career?”

Clearly, the pace of change is slow. “It will take another 30 years to see the impact,” she says. “Those who are lucky to get married into a broad-minded family, will get support, while the others may lose out. I am hoping my book will inspire a few women to take the bold step to take control of their lives.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Aishwarya talks about life with director Arun Kumar Aravind

By Shevlin Sebastian

On February 17, 2004, friends of Aishwarya Nair suggested that they go for a film. So they went to see ‘4 The People’ at the Sreekumar theatre at Thiruvananthapuram. After the show, in the lobby, Aishwarya met a friend who introduced her to Arun Kumar Aravind. “My first impression was that he was a nice guy,” she says. After a few days they began talking on the phone. Later, they began going out on dates. “In 2004, there were not as many hangouts as it is there now,” says Aishwarya. “But I gradually got to like him.”

After a year, one day, Arun called up and proposed to Aishwarya. “I was half-expecting it and said yes,” she says.

But Aishwarya’s parents, Bhaskaran Nair, an engineer, and Indira, a home-maker, were not that enthusiastic. They wanted somebody with a regular job, rather than a member of the film industry. At that time, Arun was working as a film editor. So Arun went and met them. “After that, my parents were okay with the idea,” says Aishwarya.

Arun and Aishwarya got married at the Kazhakootam temple on August 25, 2005. But there was no time for a honeymoon, as Arun had to go to Chennai, where he was working on Priyadarshan’s film, ‘Garam Masala’. Nevertheless, when they were free, they would go for walks along Marina Beach, have lunches and dinners outside, and enjoy themselves. “It was a carefree time,” says Aishwarya.

However, a year later, she got pregnant. In 2008, Arun also returned to Thiruvananthapuram, where he began editing work on the Tamil film, ‘Kanchivaram’. “At that time, Arun told me he wanted to be a director,” says Aishwarya. “I knew he was ambitious, but I never dreamt that he would become one.” Soon, Arun began work on his first film, ‘Cocktail’. When the movie did well, Arun’s directing career began to gather speed.

When asked abut his qualities, Aishwarya says, “I have not seen a person who is so patient. He is a good listener, and supportive too.”

Aishwarya remembers how her relatives and friends pressured her to start working, so that the family would have a steady income. But Aishwarya was not keen to do a 9 to 5 job. “Arun told everybody that it was my decision and if I did not want to work, he was fine with it,” she says.

However, today, Aishwarya is looking after 'Karmayug Movies', which Arun had set up. She is executive producer for the film, 'Vedivazhipadu', directed by Shambu Purushothaman, which stars Murali Gopy and Indrajith. “I am managing all the production work, as well as the finances,” says Aishwarya. “It is only now I can understand the pressure under which Arun works. It is a 24-hour job. An immense amount of work goes into the making of a film.”

And thanks to her job, she discovered another facet of Arun: his non-interference in her work. “I know of friends, whose husbands always ask them what they are doing,” says Aishwarya. “If somebody calls, they will say, 'To whom are you talking?' My husband has never done that. Arun is a broad-minded person.”

But he can get angry. When Arun loses his patience, he will not listen any more. “He just cuts you off,” says Aishwarya.

Another drawback is that ever since 'Cocktail', (2010), Arun has not taken a break. The other films which have come out in succession include 'Ee Adutha Kaalathu' and 'Left Right Left'. And right now, he is busy directing 'One By Two'. “When Arun is at home, he is either doing pre-production work, working on a script, researching on the Internet or having discussions,” says Aishwarya.

The one who wants his company the most is their six-year-old daughter Arsha. “She is always saying, 'When will papa come home?'” says Aishwarya. “When I was not working, Arsha was very happy. But once I started to work, she began saying, 'I am missing both Mama and Papa'. This is something I am coping with.”

When Arsha is free, Aishwarya takes her along to the office. But when there are long discussions, Arsha gets bored. “My in-laws are there, but a child always wants to be with her parents,” says Aishwarya. When Arun has free time, they take Arsha out for dinner or outings, to places like the Napier Museum, where they went sometime ago.

However, things did not turn out the way the family wanted. “The moment we entered, people came up and said, 'Aren’t you Arun Kumar?'” says Aishwarya. “Then they had a long chat with him. In the end, Arun could not spend much time with us. But I know that fans are very important. Nowadays, Arsha and I go to the sets to spend time with Arun.”

Meanwhile, when asked for tips on marriage, Aishwarya says, “Today, most marriages are love-cum-arranged. During dating it is a tension-free life, so the couple thinks that marriage is like that. But once they get married the relationship changes. It is not roses all the time. And they are unable to tackle the situation. That is why there are problems.”

Another reason is the domination of one spouse over the other. “Both should be equal,” she says. “You should also be able to trust each other.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Traffic Warden Sajitha Zainuden talks about her experiences

Photo by TP Sooraj

By Shevlin Sebastian

On a Monday morning, Mukesh Nair was in a hurry. The train had arrived late from Kozhikode. So, he walked swiftly from the Ernakulam Town station towards the bus stop near the Reserve Bank of India in Kochi. His office was in Palarivattom. Suddenly, Mukesh felt dizzy. The 27-year-old fell and his head hit the ground. Mukesh was having an epileptic fit.

From his mouth, blood and water began to drip out. Kochi City Traffic Warden, Sajitha P Zainuden rushed towards the man. “Nobody had stepped forward to help,” she says. Sajitha placed her watch in his hand. The presence of metal helps to control a fit. But by then Mukesh had become unconscious.

Sajitha then hailed an auto-rickshaw, and, with the help of two bystanders, placed Mukesh on the seat. Then she stepped in and the driver sped to Lisie Hospital. At the hospital, Sajitha took away Mukesh’s mobile, as he was being wheeled into the casualty section.

“I called the first number,” she says. “It belonged to a friend of Mukesh.” Soon, a group of acquaintances arrived. But Sajitha told them that she would deposit Mukesh’s belongings, which included a laptop, at the Traffic West police station, near the High Court.

A few days later, after Mukesh recovered, he collected his stuff, and, along with a family friend, met Sajitha and gave a gift. “Mukesh told me that the biggest blessing for him was that he did not lose his belongings, which contained some important papers,” says Sajitha. It was, of course, a memorable moment for Sajitha.

Another person who has been impressed by Sajitha is regular bus traveller, Tom Rogers, whose office is in Kaloor. “I stay in Fort Kochi and sometimes when I get down at the bus stop at the Reserve Bank, I stand and observe Sajitha,” he says. “She is a very helpful person.”

Sajitha says that because of the heavy traffic, she holds the hands of the sick, and the elderly, as well as youngsters when they are crossing the street. She does get irritated now and then by women. “I stop the traffic for them and they are busy talking on their mobile phones,” says Sajitha. “They will not listen to me, and try to cross the road, by running across, between the vehicles, which is quite risky.”

Thanks to her pro-active nature, she has become a familiar figure at Kaloor. “All the bus and auto-drivers, local shop owners, residents and employees of the Reserve Bank know me,” she says. “I have been working here for the past two-and-a-half years.”

The traffic warden says that the busiest time of the year is during the Onam season. “There are so many people on the road and so much traffic,” she says. “It is not easy to keep control.”

All this daily activity begins early for Sajitha. Her initial shift is from 7.30 am to 8.30 am in front of the Al Ameen public school at Edapally. Thereafter, she stands near the Reserve Bank and works till 12 noon. After a break for lunch, she works again from 3 pm to 6 pm, sometimes on Broadway, or in front of the Chennai Silks showroom on MG Road.

So, do people obey her? “Yes, they do,” says Sajitha, who, at 5’ 10”, has an imposing personality. “If you talk properly, they will listen. But if you try to behave as if you are a boss, nobody will care.” But perhaps the one drawback is that Sajitha cannot penalise erring drivers. However, she will take down the number and inform the police at the Traffic West station. A message will be sent on the wireless, and the offender is usually caught at the next traffic junction. In case that does not happen, a letter is sent to the residence and the fine has to be paid by the person.

The unusual aspect about Sajitha is that she is a Muslim. “There may be only two or three women like me, in Kochi, who are doing this job,” she says. But her community has been supportive. “In the area where I live, the people are happy,” she says. “They give me a lot of respect. My family, including my husband and 14-year-old son, are proud of me.”

Meanwhile, throughout the month of Ramzan, Sajitha, a devoted Muslim, had fasted, during the day, despite the enormous thirst that arises because she is out in the sun all the time.

Interestingly, Sajitha says that females do a better job in controlling the traffic than males. “Men tend to get angry quickly,” she says. “But women always speak in a soft and polite voice to the people, especially the traffic offenders.”

A senior police officer, who is handling these women traffic wardens, but does not wish to be identified, says that their primary job is to help the traffic policemen, who are woefully short in number. “As for Sajitha, she is doing a good job,” he says. “She has to ensure that when the Governor or senior officers of the Reserve Bank arrive, they should have a smooth entry. Sajitha also has to make sure that the buses, which are going to Aluva and Kakkanad, stop at the bus stop and not at any place the driver likes.”

And, by the looks of it, Sajitha has been doing all the tasks assigned to her with commendable dedication and panache.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Blind music composer Afzal Yusuf is steadily establishing his reputation in Mollywood

Photo by TP Sooraj

By Shevlin Sebastian

On April 5, Afzal Yusuf sat in a darkened hall in Kochi. It was the first day-first-show of Lal Jose's 'Immanuel', in which the superstar Mammooty played the hero. While the audience looked intently at the action on the screen, Afzal concentrated on the sounds made by the audience.

“People clapped many times,” he says. “There was a pin-drop silence during the emotionally-charged scenes. And there were sighs of happiness when my songs were played.”

Of course, nobody knew that the music composer was sitting in the crowd. Nobody also knew that he could not see. That he had been born without sight.
“My optic nerves were dead from birth,” says Afzal, matter-of-factly. As a child he had always been interested in music, and would listen to songs all the time. When he was in Class five his parents gifted him a harmonium. “I would play it often,” says Afzal.

By the time he reached Class 10, he had become a skilled keyboard artist and began playing with local professional bands. Thereafter, Afzal became a keyboard programmer. But his turning point came when he composed the music for a song for the Society for the Rehabilitation of the Visually Challenged.

This song was played for a fund-raising programme, which was directed by Lal Jose, and aired on a private television channel. “When I first saw Afzal play, I was struck by his passion, apart from his in-born talent,” says Lal Jose. “I felt that he could be a good composer.”

In the audience there was a producer called Jolly Joseph. He was impressed and invited Afzal to do the music for his film, ‘Chandranilekkulla Vazhi’, in 2008.

Afzal got another golden opportunity when he composed the music for the Mammooty film, '1993 Bombay, March 12'. In it, the well-known Bollywood singer, Sonu Nigam sang his first-ever Malayalam song, 'Chakkaramavin Kombath'. For that to happen, Afzal had to fly down to Sonu's studio in Mumbai to do the recording.

“Sonu was very co-operative,” says Afzal. “I told him the situation in the song and the meaning of the lyrics.” Within two hours, the song was done. Another Bollywood singer, Shreya Ghoshal, also sang for Afzal in the film, 'Ithu Pathiramanal'.

Afzal also composed a song, 'Gandharajan', for the 2009 film, ‘Calendar’, which was sung by the legendary KJ Yesudas. “The greatest moment of my life occurred when Yesudas selected 'Gandharajan' in his top 50 favourite songs of all time,” says Afzal in an emotional voice.

It is not easy for him to record a song. For 'Immanuel', two months before the shoot began, he sat with Lal Jose and scriptwriter A.C. Vijeesh and heard the entire script. Later, when there were changes, they would inform him immediately.

When Afzal has to do the background score, he hears the dialogues on the soundtrack. He also has to keep track of the duration of the scene, so that he can time the music accordingly. His keyboard programmer Sabu Francis provides visual inputs all the time.

Being sight-impaired can have its advantages. “I have intense concentration, since there are no visual distractions,” he says. “But I have to be careful, since I am working with images which I cannot see.”

Meanwhile, at Afzal's home in Kochi, his children, Hena Fathima, 7, Fidha Fathima, 5, and Abdul Rahman, 2, stand at the door of the living room and stare wide-eyed at their father. Soon, a call comes on Afzal’s mobile. Deftly, he moves his fingers, over the screen, to activate it, while a voice software informs him of the caller’s identity.

It is clear that, for Afzal, blindness has never been a handicap. Instead, it is his strength.

(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Saritha talks about life with the film director Sugeeth

By Shevlin Sebastian

Saritha Nair was happy. Her engagement to a Dubai-based boy had taken place on May 3, 2003. But the wedding was scheduled to take place a year later when the boy would come on his annual leave. It was at that this moment that her neighbour and childhood friend, P.S. Sugeeth told Saritha that he loved her. “I was shocked,” she says. “I always looked at Sugeeth as a friend.”

Soon Saritha told her mother, Girija. And immediately Girija felt tense, and said, “There is no way your father will agree to this.” The reasons were simple: firstly, Saritha was already engaged. Secondly, Sugeeth belonged to the Ezhava caste, while Sarita is a Nair. “My father would never agree to an inter-caste marriage,” says Saritha.

So, on December 6, 2003, Girija and Saritha went across to Sugeeth’s house in North Paravur to explain to the director why the marriage cannot take place. Sugeeth started crying. Sugeeth’s friend, the director Aashique Abu, was also present. When Saritha saw Sugeeth’s face, something happened to her heart. She said, “Now that the secret is out, I am not going back home.”

It was nearing lunchtime. At any moment, her father, R. Mohan, who ran a travel agency, would be coming home. So Girija went home. After a while, Sugeeth’s mother, Geeta, went across and told Mohan about the situation. He listened silently. Then he looked at the watch, and said, “It is 1.45 p.m. If Saritha does not come home by 2 p.m., she is no longer my daughter.”

But Saritha did not go home.

Aashique asked Sugeeth, “Do you want to marry her?”

Sugeeth said, “I do.”

Ashique said, “Then there is no point crying and fretting about the situation. You should get married today.”

But the few temples they went to, the priests were unwilling to marry the couple at such short notice. But they got lucky at a temple at Thevara, Kochi, because that was the place where Geeta would give an annual talk on Sree Narayana Guru. So, finally, at 7.45 p.m. the couple tied the knot.

For their honeymoon, they went to Munnar. “But we felt tense because we heard that a police case had been filed by my uncle at the North Paravur station alleging that Sugeeth had kidnapped me,” says Saritha. When they returned, they presented themselves at the station. Saritha then testified that she had got married on her own free will. Meanwhile, not surprisingly, her father refused to talk or meet with Saritha, but her mother began speaking to her within two weeks.

Today, after ten years of marriage, Saritha and Sugeeth are as close as ever. “We are more like friends rather than husband and wife,” she says. “I still call him ‘Eda’ and ‘Poda’. He still calls my mother, ‘Girija Aunty’.”

And Sugeeth is very attached to Saritha. “Wherever he goes he wants me to come with him,” she says. “I am a regular visitor to the sets also.”

The last time was for the shooting of the film, ‘Three Dots’, at the Gold Souk mall, Kochi. “The one thing that I noticed about Sugeeth on location was that he has a lot of patience,” says Saritha. “In his own life, he becomes nervous, sentimental, and gets tense very quickly. He is also careless when it comes to house-related matters. In fact, he is dependent on me for everything. So, I have to pay the bills, look after the education of the children [daughter Sivani, 8, and son Devanarayan, 2 ½] and ensure the smooth running of the house.”

Nevertheless, Saritha likes to spend time with Sugeeth because both are movie buffs. “I remember, one day, we went to Cinemax, at the Oberon Mall, and saw four films one after the other,” she says, with a smile.

Of course, like any human being, Sugeeth has drawbacks. “He gets angry very quickly,” says Saritha. “But I have learnt to keep quiet. When he cools down I will tell my point of view. He also has a tendency to avoid responsibilities.”

Meanwhile, tragedy struck Saritha when her father was hit by a speeding bike just outside their home on January 28, 2012. He fell and hit his head on the ground. Mohan was rushed to the Medical Trust hospital where an emergency surgery on the brain was done. But he never regained consciousness.

It was during this time that the editing and post-production work on 'Ordinary' was being done. “On the one side, my father’s life was ebbing away,” says Saritha. “On the other hand, our film, 'Ordinary’ was coming to life.”

The film was released in March, 2012, and became a super-duper hit. “A few days later when people told us the film was a hit we found it difficult to believe,” says Saritha. “It seemed like a dream.” It was a dream debut for Sugeeth. However, their joy was short-lived. In June, Mohan passed away at the age of 63. “Sugeeth has an enduring regret that his father-in-law could not see 'Ordinary',” says Saritha.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Noted artist and Padma Bhushan winner A Ramachandran holds a retrospective of his works for the first time in his home state of Kerala

Photo by Mithun Vinod

By Shevlin Sebastian

“I have never missed Kerala,” says noted artist A. Ramachandran. “In fact, I regard myself as a world citizen. Whether in your native place or a foreign country, people are the same – some are good, while others are bad. I am a bird that was hatched in a nest, and then flew away.”

Ramachandran left Kerala 56 years ago. And he has no regrets about it. “If I had not left, the artist in me would have died,” says Ramachandran, who lives in Delhi. “Kerala society has no interest in what artists do. The people don't care about art. They will not stand in front of a painting because they are more interested in light music and films.”

Nevertheless, thanks to the initiative taken by the Delhi-based Vadehra Art Gallery, Ramachandran's first retrospective exhibition in Kerala has been held at the Durbar Hall in Kochi. The works, from 1964 to 2013, which has been curated by Prof R. Siva Kumar, the principal of the Kala Bhavan at Santiniketan, West Bengal, are a mix of paintings, watercolours, etchings and sculptures.

Kerala, of course, has had an impact on Ramachandran’s artistic development. When he was a small boy, he lived close to nature. In the family property, at Attingal (32 kms from Thiruvananthapuram), there were mango and coconut trees, apart from tapioca and jackfruit. His mother would accompany

Ramachandran to the nearby river for a bath. Sometimes, she took him to the Krishnaswamy temple. “That was where I saw mural paintings for the first time,” says Ramachandran. “It had a lifelong impact on me.”

Even as a child, he had a deep interest in art. Ramachandran would draw on the walls of his house, much to the chagrin of the members of his large joint family. When he was ten years old, he did a watercolour portrait of the family servant, Narayani.

When Ramachandran grew up, and finished his MA in Malayalam, he received a scholarship to study art under the noted sculptor Ramkinker Baij at Shantiniketan in 1957.

“Ramkinker moulded me. He was a man with a vision who encouraged me to find my own way. A great artist, he taught me how to become one,” says Ramachandran, who won the Padma Bhushan in 2005. “Ramkinker spent his entire life trying to capture the mysteries of nature and the universe.”

The Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore was on the same path. Once when Ramkinker was doing a portrait of the writer, Tagore said, “Ramkinker, whatever you see, capture it by the throat, and don’t leave it till you have got the complete vision. But once you have got it, never look back.”

Ramachandran has also followed the same dictum: he has never looked back. His early work had been dark, morose, urban-oriented and influenced by European art. But this changed, following his 1986 masterpiece, 'Yayati', a 60 ft. by 8 ft. painting. It is based on a story from the Mahabaratha and, for the first time, Ramachandran used bright Kerala mural motifs and images from the Ajanta Caves. “I got rid of all foreign influences,” he says.

Thereafter, Ramachandran has been on a unique path, producing works that are striking and thought-provoking. And the one new motif that has occurred often is the lotus. “The lotus is a beautiful flower,” he says. “In Buddhism, Hinduism, and Indian philosophy, the chakra and the mandela are depicted like a lotus. So this ordinary flower has a transcendental position in Asian art. I have observed the lotus pond in the early morning, noon, and evenings. The colours keep changing. It is never the same.”

Which is what you can say about Ramachandran’s work. At age 78, and 6' 2” tall, this silver-haired artist walks with a straight back and an easy smile. In Kochi, he was accompanied by his Chinese-origin wife, Tan Yuan Chameli. Asked about the reaction to his work by Malayalis, Ramachandran says, “I really don't know. Even if they don't like something, I am not going to change my work, because art has always been an expression of my soul.”

(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Neena John talks about her husband, the film director Vysakh

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Neena John saw Vysakh at her brother Naveen's wedding in 2005, he was already a familiar figure. Vysakh was Naveen's friend, he lived near their house, in the town of Kanhangad (Kasaragod district), and was also on TV.
At the time, Vysakh was the anchor for the ‘Ponpulari’ morning show on Surya TV. (For the show, he took the name of Vysakh, while his actual name is Ebbey Abraham.) He had also begun work as an associate director in the films of Johny Antony like 'Kochi Rajavu' and 'Inspector Garud'.

“I regarded him as my brother's friend and nothing more,” says Neena. “I did not notice him much, but Vysakh told me later that when he saw me at the wedding, he was instantly attracted.”

A few days later, Vysakh’s family sent a wedding proposal to Neena's parents. “They were apprehensive because Vysakh did not have a regular job,” says Neena. She herself was not sure. Neena had completed her degree in nursing from the Kovai Medical Centre and Hospital, Coimbatore, and had just begun a job as a lecturer in Mangalore. “I also had plans to go abroad and work in either Britain or Australia,” she says.

But destiny willed a different course. Vysakh and Neena met at a restaurant at Kanhangad. “We spoke on several subjects,” says Neena. “And I liked him.” So Neena said yes, and the marriage took place on November 12, 2007.

The initial years were a struggle as Vysakh wanted to embark on a career as a director. He started work on ‘Pokkiri Raja’ in 2008. As he worked, Neena could immediately notice facets of Vysakh’s character. “Right from the beginning, Vysakh was confident about his abilities,” she says. “Sometimes, I thought, it may be overconfidence. But Vysakh told me that to make good films you needed to be positive-minded. There are many stresses and strains. For a director to overcome this, he has to believe in himself.”

But there are drawbacks, too. Vysakh is a workaholic. “Once he is making a film, he is distracted most of the time,” says Neena. “He is always thinking about the movie. So even though Vysakh may be at home, his mind is elsewhere.”

Another aspect is his short temper. But this is usually caused by tensions on the set. “Sometimes, I get upset,” says Neena. “But the good thing is that when Vysakh loses his cool, the next moment he feels bad and tries to make up.”

Meanwhile, after all the hard work that Vysakh puts into his films, it is not surprising that he goes through a great deal of tension the day before a film’s release. “Vysakh is constantly worried about how the film will fare at the box office,” says Neena. “He comes home on Thursday to spend the day with us.” The family consists of Neena, daughter Isabella, 3, and son, Dave, 1½.

On Friday morning, the couple will go to pray at the Basilica Of Our Lady Of Ransom at Vallarpradam. Later, they will see the first show. “Both of us cannot enjoy it because we are wondering about the reaction of the audience,” says Neena.

Incidentally, all the four films by Vysakh -- 'Pokkiri Raja', 'Seniors', 'Mallu Singh' and 'Sound Thoma' -- have done well. Out of that, 'Pokkiri Raja and 'Sound Thoma' have completed 100 days. But for Neena, she liked 'Seniors' the most. “I liked his direction,” she says.

In their free time, both Vysakh and Neena have a common hobby: they endlessly watch films at their home theatre. “We see a lot of English films,” says Neena. “The last one we saw was 'World War Z' [starring Brad Pitt]. When Vysakh is watching a film, he hates to be disturbed. He will observe the shots and how the people are acting. If Vysakh wants to talk, he will put the film on pause.”

For Neena, her most memorable moment was not connected with films. That was when the family spent three months at Naveen's home in Brisbane, Australia, in February. “We travelled all along the Gold Coast,” she says. “There were so many beautiful parks and lakes. One day, my brother hired a Volvo bus and drove it himself as we went to spend a day in the nearby hills. It was a time when we could relax as a family.” Interestingly, even in Brisbane, Vysakh was seeing a lot of films.

And Neena is candid enough to admit that cinema is her husband’s first love. “I am not jealous of his passion,” she says. “After all, he is making a living out of films. It is just that when he is on an outdoor shoot for a long time, I miss his presence. And so do my children. My daughter always says, ‘When is Appa coming home?’” Nevertheless, Neena says she has a close bond with Vysakh.

Asked for tips for a successful marriage, Neena says, “Both husband and wife should find a common interest. For us, we both love watching films. When I express this interest to Vysakh, he feels energised. You should also forgive each other’s shortcomings. If there is genuine love between the spouses, a marriage will never break up.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Designer Rohit Bal's first fashion show at Kochi, to celebrate the launch of Ambika Pillai's hair styling salon, was greeted with applause and appreciation

Photos (Top): Ambika Pillai (centre) celebrating with designer Rohit Bal and the entire team of models at the fashion show held at the Le Meridien, Kochi

Rohit Bal with film star Sushmita Sen.

Pics by TP Sooraj

By Shevlin Sebastian

The elite came out in strength to attend the first show in Kochi by one of India’s leading designers, Rohit Bal. Not surprisingly, the Kochi women pulled out all the stops: while a few wore the traditional sari and salwar kameez, there were several black and white gowns, skirts, mini skirts, as well as hot pants. The jewellery on display: flashing diamonds, gold and silver pendants, earrings and necklaces. As for the hair, it was coiffed, in high buns and plaits, apart from open hair.

The ‘Dream’ show, done in partnership with L'Oreal Professional and other sponsors, was held at the Le Meridien on Monday evening to celebrate the launch of the Kollam-born Ambika Pillai’s new hair and make-up salon at

Kochi.

And the ramp was awash in lotuses, made of cloth, hanging from the ceiling, embedded in the large backdrop, and pasted on the several make-shift pillars.

The mood was set by the evergreen Usha Uthup, dressed in a shimmering Kanjeevaram saree, her voice as husky and supple as ever, as she belted out a medley of English and Hindi songs.

In the ‘Diamonds are Forever’ song by Shirley Bassey she even inserted changes in the lyrics: “They are diamonds – Rohit Bal and Ambika Pillai.”

The show began with industry veteran Nayonika Chatterjee walking down in a floor length gown. Soon, the other models followed: Sapna Kumar, Tina Chatwal and Carole Gracias (of Big Boss fame).

There were excited local girls – Bonny Mary Mathew, Reeba Monica John, Reenu Ann Reji, Cukoo Susan, and Aileena Catherine Amon – who got an enthusiastic round of applause. And the male models, handsome, tall and fair men, with strong jawlines, and piercing eyes, modeling sherwanis and gowns, caused some breathlessness among the women.

There were full-sleeved blouses and sarees, gowns, as well as lehengas, in maroon, red and cream shades. The theme clearly was bridal wear. And, after all this, former Miss World Sushmita Sen stepped on the ramp, sashaying, with style and grace, in a maroon lehenga, smiling brilliantly, waving at the audience, looking them in the eye, an undoubted star with a charismatic presence.

And, finally, the man himself came out, veteran designer Rohit Bal, resplendent in a black Jodhpuri, and gleaming black shoes. He’s famous, he’s rich, he’s handsome and the creative fire is still burning brightly within him. And the crowd stood up and applauded him.

All in all, it was a fun evening, with Chivas Regal providing some heady moments of pleasure for the men. At the sumptuous dinner afterward, bank professional Imtiaz Aziz, sipping a glass of white wine, says, “I liked the men’s bridal wear a lot. It was new and eye-catching. But I felt that the show was a little short, at less than half an hour.”

Tara Thomas, who runs a clothing store in Kochi, says that fashion shows are usually not very long. “Overall, it was a good event. The clothes were simple and elegant. I liked the light colours, especially the whites.”

And so Ambika Pillai managed to make a splash! As for Kochiites, there is a new place to go now to get quality make-up and hair styling.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

A. Somakumaran, a policeman in Fort Kochi, has spent the past four years photographing Kathakali artists

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photos: Kalamandalam Gopi playing Nala and Margi Vijaykumar (Damayanti) in the drama, ‘Nalacharitham’ (‘The Story of Nala’); A Somakumaram

Rajeev Soman, 40, an advertising professional, is going past the Durbar Hall grounds when he decides to check out the Lalithakala Akademi art gallery. On the first floor, there is a photography exhibition called, ‘The Kathakali and The Unknown Scenes’ by A. Somakumaran. Apart from scenes like a sunset on a river, a man who is body-painted in the form of a tiger, and dewdrops on a purple flower, the dominant and eye-catching photographs are those of Kathakali artists.

So, there is a fearsome photo of Kottakkal Devadas playing Bhadrakali in the play, ‘Dakshayaagam’. His jutting-out eyes are bloodshot, there are two fangs sticking out, the face is green, and he emanates menace. Then there is a beautifully taken portrait of a smiling Kalamandalam Sreekumar with all the head gear and the colourful costume of a Kathakali artist performing a move. Another striking portrait is a loving scene between Padma Shri Kalamandalam Gopi playing Nala and Margi Vijaykumar (Damayanti) in the drama, ‘Nalacharitham’ (‘The Story of Nala’), written by playwright Unnayi Warrier.

As Rajeev wanders about, relishing the various images, he asks a gallery staff member about the identity of the photographer and is told that he is a policeman.

“A policeman,” says Rajeev, looking incredulous. “How could that be?” Rajeev’s reaction is an indication of the poor image of the police in society. “They are least respected, socially ostracised, and side with the rich, powerful, and criminal elements of society,” he says.

But when he sees Somakumaran, a mild mannered, silver-haired man in his fifties, he is disarmed. “I am happy to know that there are policemen who are pursuing the finer things of life,” says Rajeev. Says former Kochi City Police Commissioner and the present Inspector General of Police (Homicide), MR Ajith Kumar, “There are many policemen like Somakumaran who have an interest in the arts. But due to work pressures, they are unable to develop their talents.”

Somakumaran has been a policeman for the past 28 years and is now posted at the Coastal Police Station of Fort Kochi. He had been interested in Kathakali from his childhood in Idukki. “I would go to various temples to watch the programmes,” he says. During this time Somakumaran got interested in photography. The first camera he used was the Agfa Click 3 camera. Thereafter, it was the Minolta, Olympus and a Yashica SLR. But today, Somakumaran is using a Canon EOS 7D.

Around four years ago, Somakumaran began taking photographs of Kathakali artists. Usually, a programme starts at 10 p.m., so he was able to go after his duty hours to attend it. “Kathakali is one of Kerala’s greatest art forms,” he says. “When you attend a show, you experience joy, pleasure and satisfaction.”

Apart from stage shots, Somakumaran also went backstage to photograph the artists. Those who posed for him included Nelliyodu Vasudevan Namboodiri, Kalamandalam Champakara Vijayan, and Chandrasekharan Unnithan.

“On and off stage, there is a marked difference,” says Somakumaran. “On stage, these artistes look magnificent and are capable of so many expressions. But off stage, when the make-up is removed, they are down-to-earth people. Vasudevan Namboodiri, in the role of Veerubhadran, looks terrifying with his various facial expressions. In fact, I shook with fear at the ferocity of his moods that I was unable to take photographs. But when I met him after the programme, he came across as a simple, genuine and humble person.”

And, of course, all of the artistes are amazed when Somakumaran introduces himself as a policeman. “Most of them say they have never met a policeman who is interested in the arts,” he says. In fact, Vasudevan Namboodiri said, “Oh, a policeman at a Kathakali play. That is unusual.”

At the exhibition, Somakumaran received a lot of kudos. Renjini Suresh, a Kathakali artist herself and the former chairperson of the Tripunithura municipal corporation immediately called Kottakkal Devadas from the gallery and told him the photo of him was good. “Many lovers of Kathakali came and expressed their appreciation,” says Somakumaran.

Meanwhile, Somakumaran is honest enough to say that Kathakali is declining in popularity. “In Ernakulam, and the surrounding areas, there will be about 100 people when a concert begins,” says Somakumaran. “However, at the end, there will be 25 people present. I guess, nowadays, people are rushed for time.”
However, the good news is that in places like Malappuram and Palakkad, Kathakali continues to remain popular.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi, Thiruvananthapuram and Kozhikode)

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Athulya talks about life with the musician Jassie Gift

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Athulya Jayakumar received the marriage proposal from Jassie Gift’s family, in July, 2012, she was unsure. She had seen the musician in television interviews and he seemed like a man of few words. “I preferred a person who spoke a lot,” she says. Nevertheless, she was intrigued enough and decided to meet Jassie.

But in their first meeting, at her house in Thiruvananthapuram, Jassie spoke non-stop. “In fact he talked much more than me,” says Athulya. The subjects included his music career and her doctoral studies in information technology at Kannur University. Interestingly, Jassie was also doing his doctoral studies in Indian philosophy at the same university, but they had not seen each other.

“I liked him at that first meeting,” says Athulya. Soon after, she said yes and the marriage, according to Hindu rites, took place on September 11, 2012, at the Kottecattu Convention Hall at Nalanchira, Thiruvananthapuram.

While Athulya’s father is a Hindu, her mother is a Christian, just like Jassie. “In fact, the proposal came from my mother's side of the family,” says Athulya.

It has been an unusual marriage, in the sense that the couple have spent more time away from each other, than together. The main reason is that Jassie is based in Bangalore where his songs are in big demand in the Kannada film industry, while Athulya remains at Kannur for her doctoral studies. “But we are constantly in touch,” says Athulya.

After every two months, both of them will come to Perumbavur, where Jassie has a villa, near his parents’ house. They will stay a week, before they go their separate ways once again. “We are still in the honeymoon phase,” says Athulya, with a smile. “When we meet, we are always sweet to each other.”

But Jassie has a sweet character, according to Atulya. “He is an understanding and cool person,” she says. “I have not seen Jassie get angry. Even when there is a lot of stress in his career he will not show it. He will simply say he has to finish some work.”

At home, Jassie goes into a music room, which has a keyboard, as well as a synthesizer. “He prefers to be alone, because that helps his creativity,” says Athulya. “When he is working he is in full concentration. I don’t think he is aware of my presence then.”

But once Jassie finishes his work, unlike most artists, he does not carry on pondering over it. “Instead, Jassie forgets about the music,” says Athulya. “For him, the family is as important as his career.”

Nevertheless, Jassie is doing well in the Kannada film industry. The songs,
which he composed for the blockbuster hit, ‘Myna’ were well received. The singers included Sonu Nigam, Shreya Ghoshal and Nithya Menon, “An earlier song, ‘Gaganave Baagi’ sung by Shreya for the film, 'Sanju weds Geeta', became a hit,” says Athulya. Later, Jassie re-recorded that song in Malayalam for 'Chinatown', and called it 'Arikil Ninnalum'. “Jassie is happy in Bangalore,” says Athulya.

He is also happy to play video games during his spare time. “Jassie is a child at heart,” says Athulya. “He spends a lot of time in the Games Zones of most malls.”

On the other hand, when he is at home in Perumbavur, Jassie reads a lot. At present, he is going through 'The Great Indian Novel' by Shashi Tharoor. “Another book he read and liked recently was 'Francis Ittycora' by TD Ramakrishnan,” says Athulya.

A favourite pastime is when they go to Athulya's home in Thiruvananthapuram. “Most nights, after 10 p.m., we go to the Shankumugham beach and watch the waves,” says Athulya. “That is the time when Jassie talks about his school and college days, and the struggle to make a mark as a musician.

“At the same time, Jassie says he was lucky that his first film song, 'Lajjavathiye' [for the 2004 film, '4 The People'], became such a big hit. In fact, once when he had gone to Malappuram for a stage show, there was such a crush of young people that he needed police escort to reach the stage.”

In Bangalore, too, the Malayalis recognise him, even now, for 'Lajjavathiye'. “People congratulate him for that number,” says Athulya. “Nowadays, the fans no longer ask for autographs. Instead, they want to take photos with Jassie on their mobile phones. And, always, he will introduce me to all his fans.”

When asked about the lessons that she has learnt in her brief marriage, Athulya says, “Each person has their own individuality. We should respect that. Give freedom to your husband. Don’t nag him too much. Then they will become happy and treat us well.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Vipul Mittra, Principal Secretary (Tourism) of Gujarat, talks about his experiences of working with superstar Amitabh Bachchan and writing books, while on a recent visit to Kerala

By Shevlin Sebastian

On August 16, 2010, when Vipul Mittra, the Principal Secretary (Tourism) of the Gujarat government went to pick up superstar Amitabh Bachchan from a five-star hotel in Ahmedabad, he was taken aback. Amitabh, who was wearing a khadi kurta pyjama as well as a white shawl, walked barefoot to the car. When Vipul asked why, Amitabh says, “I am going to a temple.”

However, it was not to a temple that they went, but the Sabarmati Ashram, where Mahatma Gandhi lived for several years. “He was in a meditative mood throughout,” says Vipul. The superstar had gone to the ashram to act in one part of a series of films he was shooting, at the request of Chief Minister Narendra Modi, to highlight Gujarat tourism. Not surprisingly, once the ads were aired on national television, the impact on tourism was soon felt.

In 2009, there were 1.7 crore visitors to the state. This has now gone up to 2.5 crore in 2013. “When Amitabh’s advertisement comes on the TV, people don’t switch channels,” says Vipul. “Plus, the films have been made differently.

There are many advertisements where they showcase the entire state in one minute. But we decided to base each film on one destination. People who see our advertisements will not say, 'I will go to Gujarat'. Instead, they will say, 'I will go to Dwaraka, Somnath or Lothal'.”

Vipul is a multi-layered personality. In the early part of his career, he had been the Collector of Ahmedabad and Surender Nagar, as well as the Principal Secretary (Rural development). And in his spare time, he writes novels. “It is important to be creative, since I am working in a disciplined system,” he says.

His first novel, published by Rupa, in 2011, is called 'Pyramid of Virgin Dreams'. It is a story of a man who becomes a member of the bureaucracy, travels through it like an outsider, and views his job in a humourous manner.

One smile-inducing anecdote is when the protagonist, a collector by the name of Kartikeya Kukreja, is transferred from a place called Dhansa to an unimportant posting. At the time of the transfer, everybody starts ignoring Kartikeya because he is no longer powerful. However, a faithful tehsildar, Joshi, offers to help with the packing. But after he does so, Joshi refuses to take any money. Nevertheless, when the goods are being sent by lorry, Joshi ensures that the television set is stolen, so that he could recover the cost of the packing.

Not surprisingly, Vipul has had many interesting experiences during the course of his career. “As a bureaucrat I see all types of people,” he says. “And I have stayed in so many different places.” One day, he felt the urge to put down what he had seen. So, he started writing. Thereafter, whenever he would get some spare time, Vipul would write. Eventually, he took seven years to finish the novel and another three years to get a publisher.

And now the bureaucrat has written his second novel, 'Dream Chasers'. This will be published by reputed publishers, Random House and released by Amitabh in Mumbai on September 26. “The youth these days believe that they have to follow their dreams,” he says. “Chasing a girl is a dream. Doing drugs is a dream. Going to cabarets is a dream. But the youngsters lack focus. And I wanted to highlight this in my novel.”

Interestingly, like the characters in his novel, when he was a young man, the 6’ 1” tall Vipul had a dream of being a film star. However, once he got selected into the Indian Administrative Service at 22, Vipul decided to embark on the bureaucrat's path.

And his background left him unprepared initially. “I grew up in a modern city like Chandigarh, and suddenly I was posted to Kutch,” he says. “In 1987, my telephone number was two digits: 30. And the so-called ‘lightning call’ to Delhi would take 12 hours to go through.”

Another hassle which he encountered was the endless sycophancy. “People were always trying to please you because you are the man in power,” he says.

Nevertheless, Vipul has no regrets. “I enjoy my work a lot,” he says.

But Vipul has not given up on his dream of becoming an actor, because his chances have brightened. Thanks to his sister’s marriage, he is an uncle to the superstar Hrithik Roshan, while Vipul’s brother, Rahul Mittra, is a producer of films like 'Sahib Biwi aur Gangster'. “Most probably, after my retirement, I will go into acting,” he says, with a smile.

One remembers what Diana Nyad, 64, the first person to swim from Cuba to the USA said, moments after she stepped on shore at Florida, “The first lesson is that we should never, ever give up. Secondly, you are never too old to chase your dreams.”

Incidentally, Vipul had come to Kochi to give a presentation on Gujarat tourism, at the convention of the Indian Association of Tour Operators. Asked whether he was worried about the shuddering national economy, he says, “I doubt whether it will affect the travel industry. Because of the depreciation of the rupee, it becomes easier for foreigners and NRIs to come to India. And because of the rise in cost of the dollar, less Indians will travel abroad. Instead, they will do more domestic travel.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Muhammed Anaz is the only cat and dog supplier in Mollywood. He talks about the ways to look after them, as well as their nature

By Shevlin Sebastian

One day, in April, Muhammed Anaz received a call on his mobile. It was from production controller Sidhu Panakkal of the Malayalam film, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen’.

“We need a cat,” said Sidhu.

“How did you get my number?” said Anaz.

“Mohanlal gave it to me,” said Sidhu.

“Which Mohanlal?” said Anaz.

“The superstar,” said Sidhu.

Anaz wanted to burst out laughing, thinking that it was a prank call. Suddenly, the director Siddique came on the line and said, “Anaz, we need a cat.”

So Anaz took a mix of Persian and Siamese cats and went to the location, a bungalow, in Kochi. As soon as he stepped into the courtyard, from a distance, Mohanlal shouted, “I am the one who gave your number to Sidhu.”

Anaz then remembered that once, a couple of years ago, he had been introduced to Mohanlal by a photographer, Jayaprakash Payannur. “Amazingly, Mohanlal had not only remembered me, but also saved my number,” says Anaz, looking amazed. “That’s Mohanlal for you: a simple and humble man.”

Anaz is the only cat and dog supplier to Mollywood (earlier, the animals were got from Chennai). His break came when he was asked to supply a Persian cat for the 2011 film, ‘Teja Bhai and Family’.

There is a shot when the hero, Prithviraj, who is a don based in Malaysia, enters an office, and to show casualness, he holds a cat on his arm. This is Mittu, a white Persian cat, which belongs to Anaz. The shoot lasted five days. Thereafter, Anaz, who has ambitions to become an actor, received several opportunities where his pets were given roles.

His latest film is 'Pattam Pole', in which Mammooty’s son, Dulquer Salman, plays the hero. “I have provided a miniature pinscher called Jill,” says Anaz. “The heroine (Malavika Mohanan) has a pet dog. Jill will sit on Malavika's lap and is fed ice cream. When the heroine goes on a journey she says goodbye to Jill.”

Anaz said hello to cats and dogs right from his childhood. And it happened because of a tragedy: his father, a doctor, died in a road accident when Anaz was only three-and-a-half years old. Thereafter, the family went to stay with Anaz's grandmother at North Paravaur, 33 kms from Kochi. “My grandmother used to have around 30 cats,” he says. “I developed my love for cats, dogs and hens at that time.”

Not surprisingly, when he grew up, he began to keep cats and dogs, apart from lovebirds, at his own home. These include dogs, like miniature pinschers, toy dogs and Pomeranians, apart from Siamese, Persian, Himalayan, Balinese and the British Short Hair cats. Owing to his close association, he has a good idea of their character.

“A cat cares only for the house and food,” he says. “They don't care for the people. Food and comfort are most important for them. They will not go anywhere, if they are happy.”

On the other hand dogs become emotionally close to the owners.

“Hence, men are happier with dogs rather than cats,” says Anaz. “Those who raise dogs want love in return, while those who raise cats do not expect love. That is why women have cats as pets, because they are used to giving love.”

Meanwhile, Anaz keeps his cats healthy and contended by providing a good diet. He will buy fresh sardines from fishermen off the island of Vypeen, near Kochi. Then Anaz will remove the head and the tail and the kidneys. He will then cook it, along with rice, white onions, and turmeric powder in a pressure cooker.

“It will become like a biryani,” he says. Normally cat owners place the fish inside the rice. But the cat only eats the fish and avoids the rice. This way, the animal will eat the fish and rice. Twice a month, in order for the cat to get iron, Anaz provides the liver of hens.

Amazingly, cats don't like cow's milk. “It harms their health,” says Anaz. “They will have worms.” Instead, to strengthen their bones, he buys artificial milk made by western canine companies. It is similar to milk powder and costs Rs 1000.

At the backyard of his Kochi home, he has cages of cats and dogs. When they see him, the dogs bark loudly. “That is because I am accompanied by a stranger,” he says. “If I shout and say it is okay, they will keep quiet.” Which is exactly what happened.

Anaz smiles happily in the sudden silence. So, it is no surprise when he says, “I loves animals more than people. I get happiness and a sense of peace when I am with them.”

(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

Megha Pillai talks about life with the World Dwarf sports champion Joby Mathew

Photo by Mithun Vinod

By Shevlin Sebastian

In June, 2006, Megha Pillai went to take part in a seminar on social work at Kochi. When she was about to sign the attendance register, she saw that somebody had already signed in her column. “When I enquired from the organisers, they said that it resembled the signature of a person called Joby Mathew,” says Megha. Sometime later, Megha saw Joby and was surprised to note that he was only 3' 5” inch tall. They got talking and he said that he had been in a hurry, and that was how the mistake happened.

Thereafter, they went their separate ways. Then in October, when Megha was doing some shopping near Bank Junction in Aluva, (she lived in the town of Chengamanad, 10 kms away), she saw Joby on his three-wheeler scooter. Megha hailed him and said, “Are you not Joby Mathew?”

They conversed a bit. Megha told him she was a dancer. Joby then gave her his visiting card. “He told me that if there are any dance programmes, he should be informed,” she says.

Six months went past. Then, in March, 2007, at Kalady University, where Megha was doing her M. Phil on comparative literature, she was selected to do a Mohinyettam dance for the participants of a national seminar. So she invited Joby. And he came. After the show, Joby complimented her on her performance. Again, they went their separate ways.

Then in June, Joby was involved in an accident when a jeep hit his scooter. Joby’s arm was injured and he was hospitalised. “A friend called and told me that Joby was in a hospital in Aluva,” says Megha. “She had seen a report in the newspaper.”

So Megha went and met him. In August, Megha got caught up in campus violence. Somebody poked a branch of a tree in her face. “I got injured below the left eye,” she says. She was taken to the Little Flower Hospital in Angamaly, where 12 stitches were put. “People thought that I would lose my eye,” she says. “But, by the grace of God, it became alright.”

Joby read the news item and went and saw her in the hospital. By this time, he had begun to develop feelings for Megha.

On September 10, Joby called Megha up and said he liked her. “I want to marry you,” he said. Megha was agreeable. When asked whether, at 5' 5”, she had a hesitation of marrying somebody so short, Megha says, with a smile, “I had no problems that he is physically challenged. I liked him as a person and wanted to marry him. To me, Joby has always been 6' tall.”

Since it was an inter-caste love, her father, who owns a clothes shop at Chengamanad, said no. But everything changed when Joby met the family. The winner of five gold medals at the recent World Dwarf Games impressed with his confidence and positive nature. He also insisted that there was no need for Megha to convert to Christianity.

“From the beginning, I received a lot of support from my mother,” says Megha. “She accepted Joby at once.” And later, Megha's father also agreed to the marriage.

The wedding took place on November 16, 2008 at the chapel of the Rajagiri College of Social Sciences in Kalamassery, where Joby, who has a MA and a law degree, was employed as a public relations manager. Today, he is working in the legal wing of the Bharat Petroleum Corporation Limited.

And, over the years, Megha got a better understanding of Joby's character. “He is a happy person,” says Megha. “Joby is always smiling. He makes his decisions after a lot of thought. If there is a problem, Joby will always say that there is a solution to it. And after thinking carefully, Joby does come up with a good way to solve the issue.”

Joby, who has won 16 international medals, is a former world arm wrestling champion, as well as a gold medallist in events like shot put, javelin, discus, and badminton. When asked about his qualities as an athlete, Megha says, “Joby is focused and disciplined. Once he set a goal, he works hard to achieve it.”

Perhaps his only drawback is that he is a perfectionist. “At home, if a thing is not at a particular place where he has kept it, Joby gets angry,” says Megha.

Interestingly, when the couple steps out in public, even in places like Bangalore, they are immediately recognised. That is because Joby had taken part in Sony TV's Entertainment Ke Liye Kuch Bhi Karega, where the vibrant sportsman did arm wrestling with Bollywood stars Ranbir Kapoor and Priyanka Chopra as well as director Farah Khan.

“When people meet me, they are amazed to know that when Joby asked to marry me I said yes immediately,” says Megha. “Then they will inquire whether I married out of sympathy. But Joby is a person who does not need any sympathy. He is a champion in sports as well as life.” Incidentally, the couple has a four-year old son, Jyothis.

As for tips for a successful marriage, Megha says, “If you marry a person from a different caste or religion, you have to ensure your spouse will accept and support your religious beliefs. And when you have children, he should agree that they will follow both religions. Otherwise, it will lead to a clash. And in case you face any problems, just pray to God. He is the same for everybody.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

A two-day conference on climate change, at Delhi, conducted by the Centre for Science and Environment, was an eye opener

By Shevlin Sebastian

“Climate change is for real,” says Sunita Narain, the Director-General of the New Delhi-based Centre for Science and Environment (CSE). “The world needs to cut emissions drastically. South Asia is the most vulnerable. The poorest, who are not responsible for climate change, are the worst affected.”

Sunita was speaking at a two-day South Asia media briefing on climate change at Delhi where nearly 100 journalists, from all states in India, and from the neighbouring countries of Sri Lanka, Bhutan, Bangladesh, Nepal, Pakistan, Maldives and Myanmar took part.

One reason for the worsening weather is that countries all over the world are emitting carbon dioxide and other gases relentlessly. The cumulative carbon dioxide that was emitted from 1890 to 2007 was a mind-boggling 1202 gigatonnes (gt). Out of this, 700gt were by developed countries, with the United States of America contributing 333gt, while the developing countries share was 501gt. In Asia, China had 104gt, while India emitted 31gt.

Here is another set of statistics. In 2005, the carbon dioxide concentration (CO2) was 383 parts per million (ppm). If the emissions continue, by 2050, the emissions will reach 550 ppm. If that happens, the global temperature will increase by 3 to 5 degrees. “This will have catastrophic consequences,” says Sunita. “The target has to be 450 ppm, to keep the temperature rise under 2 degrees. At this moment, we are at 350 ppm. In short, the world has to drastically cut emissions, by 85 per cent, to meet the objective.”

The only way forward is for rich countries to reduce their emissions. “15% of the world population accounts for 45% of CO2 emissions,” says Sunita. In other words, one American emits as much as 107 Bangladeshis or 269 Nepalese.

What is most alarming is that some gases remain in the atmosphere for hundreds of years. For example, a tonne of carbon dioxide emitted in 1850 can remain in the atmosphere till 3050. Other gases like methane can last for 12 years, while haloforms, like HFC 23, can remain for 270 years.

“The best option is to move from fossil to non-fossil energy,” says Sunita.

The good news is that some countries, like Germany, are already doing that. “In 2012, about 23 per cent of electricity in Germany came from renewable sources like wind and solar power,” says Chandra Bhushan, the Deputy Director-General of the CSE. “Interestingly, half the capacity is in the hands of citizens, not big companies. The country has the ambitious aim of getting 80% through renewable energy by 2050. There is a strong likelihood they will achieve their goal.”

Meanwhile, India needs to get its act together. “Nearly two-thirds of the population remains without clean cooking facilities,” says Bhushan. They use wood or dung for cooking. But that has consequences. Says Dr. Kirk R. Smith, Professor of Global Environmental Health at the University of California, Berkeley: “If you cook a meal, using wood, in the kitchen, it has the same impact as a thousand cigarettes burning. If children are in this kitchen it can damage their health.”

Using these wood fuels also heats up the atmosphere. According to a United Nations Environment Programme report, open burning contributes about 24 percent of the black carbon emissions from India.

However, the gratifying aspect is that some organisations are spearheading a change. Prasanta Biswal, the Bihar head of the Solar Electric Light Company India (SELCO) says that they are setting up household-based solar home-lighting systems for people who are below the poverty line. So, SELCO has put up solar lighting in migrant camps, in the houses of the poor, for roadside vendors, in remote areas, where people have no access to electricity, and even for the Siddis, a tribe of African origin, who live in Karnataka.

“In a place like Bihar, huge numbers of people still use kerosene,” says Prasanta. “The population pollutes because it does not have a choice. So, we are offering the cheap solution of solar energy.”

One group, which has benefited, substantially, are rose pickers in a village near Bangalore. In the pre-dawn, they would hold a lamp in one hand and pluck roses with the other. But SELCO provided solar powered headlamps and now with their hands free, their productivity has gone up considerably, as well as their income.

So far, SELCO has installed solar systems in 1.25 lakh houses. And their work has gained international recognition. In 2005 and 2007, they were awarded the Ashden Awards (which is regarded as the Green Oscars).

Moving on to another vital area, for India, Aditi Mukherji, the Theme Leader, Water and Air, of the Kathmandu-based International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development confirmed that, because of global warming, the Himalayas are prone to disasters. “On an average, there are 78 disaster events every year,” she says. “Around 36,000 people are killed and 178 million people are affected.” About one-third of these events are floods and it affects all the countries in the region: Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, China, India, Myanmar, Nepal, and Pakistan.

“All of us should worry about what is happening in the Hindukush Himalayan (HHK) region,” says Aditi. “It is the source of ten major river basins. While 210 million people live in the HKH area, there are 1.3 billion people downstream who are dependent on the rivers.

Unfortunately, the snow cover of the Himalayas, as well as the glaciers, has been decreasing. When glaciers retreat, they leave behind glacial lakes. Later, this could lead to devastating floods because of Glacial Lake Outburst Floods.

And so it went. Other speakers spoke about extreme weather patterns, dealing with challenges of climate change, apart from suggestions for timely solutions. All in all, the conference was an eye-opener to the dangers faced by the planet, thanks to relentless global warming. The future looks decidedly dangerous, unless prompt action is taken by all the countries, in a spirit of co-operation. “If we don’t do that, we will force upon future generations an atmosphere that will take centuries to repair,” says, M.R. Ramesh Kumar, Chief Scientist of the National Institute of Oceanography, Goa.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Chameli, of Chinese origin, talks about life with the noted artist, A Ramachandran, a Padma Bhushan winner

Photo by Ravi Choudhary

By Shevlin Sebastian

During the introductory meeting of art students at Shantiniketan, West Bengal, in 1957, two people stood out. One was Chameli Tan Yuan, who was of Chinese origin. The other was the tallest person in the room, the Malayali artist A. Ramachandran, 6’2”, who was dressed in white shirt and trousers. Their eyes met.

“I think he got attracted to me instantly,” says Chameli. “But, later, when I saw his work, I was bowled over. I realised he was a genius.”

Chameli still remembers one particular work that affected her deeply: it was of a mynah in a tempera medium. “It was simple, beautiful, and impressive,” she says.

The couple would meet occasionally. Ramachandran would show Chameli his ongoing compositions. Slowly, they became friends. “We used to go for walks in the evening and talk about art, culture, and Malayalam literature. He used to talk about what a great writer [Vaikom Mohammad] Basheer was.”

Incidentally, Chameli was born in Shantiniketan because her father Tan Yun-Shan, a scholar from Hunan Province in China came to India in 1928 to teach Chinese at Shantiniketan, at the invitation of Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore. Eventually, her father lived in Shantiniketan all his life, and died at the age of 85 in 1983 at Bodh Gaya. As for Chameli, she was born as Tan Yuan, but it was Tagore who gave her the Indian name.

Meanwhile, Ramachandran and Chameli carried on their courtship which lasted for 10 years. “It was not easy for us to marry because we came from such different backgrounds,” she says. “He was also a struggling artist.”

But, eventually, they had a registered marriage on June 2, 1967. And right from the beginning, Ramachandran's mother, Bhargavi Amma, accepted her whole-heartedly. “Amma was an extraordinary woman, and so different from other Malayali women,” says Chameli. “She never treated me badly even though I was not a Nair or Malayali. Instead, Amma gave me so much of love that I can never forget her.”

After 46 years of marriage, Chameli can also never forget Ramachandran. “He is a great artist,” she says. “I am not saying this because he is my husband. Ramachandran is a gifted person and his involvement in art is total.”

She also admires his honesty and straight-forwardness. But there is a drawback to this. “Ramachandran will say whatever he feels straight to your face,” says Chameli. “He is too blunt. Many people have misunderstood him and felt upset and angry. Some have called him rude and arrogant. I used to feel upset about this. Sometimes, I would go into shock. Because we Chinese have been taught to be polite at all times. We follow the Confucius way of thinking.”

But Chameli gradually got used to it. “Ramachandran told me that it is his nature,” she says.

Soon, the couple had two children, Sujatha and Rahul. But life was tough. “In those days, there was no art market,” she says. “For many years, we had a difficult time. The market opened up only recently. But his passion for art never diminished. Ramachandran would teach art at Jamia Islamia Milia during the day and work in the evenings and night on his art.”

Despite the difficulties, there was not much stress between the spouses. “We have always been friends,” says Chameli. “And we are professional artists who worked together writing and illustrating children's books. Because of our love of art, we were able to live harmoniously. It has been a strange, yet beautiful relationship.”

As for the Delhi-based Ramachandran, all the hard work has paid off. Today, he is a much-respected artist and was conferred with the Padma Bhushan in 2005. And when he goes around, people recognise him.

One day the couple went to see an ophthalmologist. In the waiting room, there was a mother and daughter. “I could hear the daughter say, 'That is Mr Ramachandran and his wife,'” says Chameli. “Then the mother said, 'Shall I ask him for a work?' But the daughter said no.”

Not surprisingly, there are people who come to the studio to see his compositions. “But Ramachandran does not like to entertain too many people as he would like to work,” says Chameli. “He prefers them to go to the gallery.”

On any given day, Ramachandran gets up at 8 a.m. Thereafter, he has a cup of tea and reads newspapers for two hours. After a bath and breakfast, he will go up to the studio on the first floor and start work. He will come down briefly for lunch at 2 p.m. Then he continues to work till 9 p.m. After a bath and dinner, the couple watches TV. “When we were younger, we would go out,” says Chameli who is 73, while her husband is 78. Both the children have flown the nest. While Sujatha lives in Toronto, Rahul is in Alabama, USA.

Asked for tips on a successful marriage, Chameli says, “A harmonious marriage does not happen just like that. Both spouses have to work at it. We were lucky we had similar likes and dislikes. Conflicts happen only because of disharmony. Find the common interests between the two and focus on that.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Tinu Menachery, who plays a suicide bomber in the film, 'Madras Cafe', talks about her experiences

By Shevlin Sebastian

On the first day of her shoot in the Hindi film, ‘Madras Café’, in the Vypeen Islands, off Kochi, Tinu Menachery felt scared. She had a touch of hydrophobia. And she had to be on a boat, which was supposed to be coming from Jaffna to the coast of India. When Tinu expressed her apprehension, the assistant director Arjun said, “Don't worry, it will be a long shot so your face will not be seen.”

However once the shot was done, the director Shoojit Sircar asked Tinu whether she was afraid of water. Tinu nodded. “Fear was written all over your face,” he said. “Let us do it again.”

This time, Tinu thought about pleasant subjects like her college life. As a result, she looked relaxed and natural. “What I really liked about Shoojit Sir was that even though it was a small scene, he was very particular that the right expressions were shown,” says Tinu.

The dusky actress – a Malayali who grew up in Mumbai – was playing a suicide bomber of the Liberation of Tamils Front who blows up the Indian Prime Minister in the last scene. As for the type of person the bomber is, Tinu says, “She is introverted and shy, while I am an outgoing and jovial person. So I had to contain all my energy and not be myself, while depending on Shoojit Sir to guide me.”

One unusual aspect was that Tinu looked plain and devoid of make-up in the film. “People were shocked to see my face,” says Tinu. “But it was not a hard decision to be unglamorous since I looked upon the role as a great opportunity.”

What made Tinu feel good was when the director praised her. “Shoojit Sir told me that I have expressive eyes and even if I don't say much in a scene, my eyes talk a lot,” she says. “My postures are good. The moment he says, 'Action', I do have visible changes in my body.”

Tinu is also having visible changes in her life now. And it all began rather accidentally. A friend suggested that she send her CV for the Glad Rags model competition in 2008 in Mumbai. She did so, and was selected. “And when I walked the ramp I found a happiness that I had never experienced before,” says Tinu.

Thanks to her 5’8” height, she got several modelling jobs – Ritu Kumar, Levis, Lee, Amprapali Jewellery, among many others.

From there, she gravitated to television where she got a role in a serial on Star Plus. Thereafter, she acted in a Malayalam film, ‘Kaash’. And soon, she heard that there were auditions for ‘Madras Café’. “They were looking for a particular type of person,” says Tinu. “After the screen test, I was selected.”

Not surprisingly, her best moment occurred was when she met the hero, John Abraham on the set. “I looked stupid because I was so much in awe of him,” says Tinu. “He is extremely good-looking and a nice person to talk to. I thought John would have starry airs, but he was humble. One day, John was having a chat with another person and I was sitting right behind them. And I was listening to the conversation and thinking, ‘Oh my God, do they still make these type of guys nowadays?’”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

In the play, 'Kunti-Karna', Karna and his mother Kunti have a complicated relationship, just as the warrior has ambivalent feelings for Krishna and Arjuna

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photo by Mithun Vinod

Karna approaches the stage from the aisle of the JT Pac hall in Kochi. He is bare-bodied and wears flared trousers. As Karna steps on stage, a haunting Kathakali song is heard on the soundtrack. Soon, he makes movements, resembling Kalaripayattu, the ancient Kerala martial art form. There is an absolute silence for several minutes.

Karna groans, “Mother, aah, aah.” He falls into a tank of water, placed at one side of the stage, to indicate his abandonment as a baby by his mother Kunti.

He keeps dreaming of his mother. “As the darkness sucks me in and I find it difficult to sleep, a woman appears before me again and again,” says Karna. “I beseech her with tears. Mother, remove your veil. Let me see your face.”

And then Kunti appears in front of him standing on a small trolley pushed by a younger version of Karna, her face and body covered by a red shawl. Karna rises, and says, “O mother,” but Kunti keeps pushing him back into the water. This falling down, the splash, and the rising-up makes for a riveting sequence.

“The water, for Karna, is a symbol of being in the womb of his mother,” says Koumarane Valavane, the director of the play 'Kunti Karna'. “The image of water is also in his memory because he had been abandoned on the Ganges river.”

The story, as related in the Mahabharata, goes like this: Through the sun God Surya, Kunti has a child called Karna. In order to preserve her honour, before her marriage to Pandu, she goes to the Ganges river and, with the help of her maid, Dhatri, places her new-born son in a basket and sets him adrift.

In subsequent scenes, Karna carries on crying for his missing mother. Later, he has a confrontation with his half-brother Arjuna, who taunts Karna by saying, “You don't know your father's name. This place is not for you. Out!”

A defiant Karna says, “Arjuna, today for lack of an identity, you have rejected me. But someday, our strengths alone will matter. We will fight and I will kill you.”

It was martial arts that saved Karna from the feeling of being abandoned. “He is deeply involved in it,” says Koumarane. “Otherwise, Karna would have become useless or an alcoholic.”

Meanwhile, Arjuna goes to the Himalayas to get the Pashupatastra weapon from Lord Shiva. While there he has a fight with Lord Shiva, and is defeated. This scene is shown in dramatic style in the play. Arjuna climbs up two long strips of white cloth hanging from rods from the ceiling and does fight sequences by twisting and turning, going up and down, forward and backwards, deftly using his hands and feet, and, finally, when he is defeated, he slides, head first, straight to the floor.

Thereafter, there are dramatic fighting scenes between Arjuna and Karna, with the latter having animated conversations with Krishna and Parasurama and, at the climax, Karna is killed.

It is a gripping play, with intense and tight acting by the performers, all members of the Indianostrum Theatre in Pondicherry. They include Vasant Selvam (Karna), Sravanthi Vakkalanka (Kunti), Parasurama (Kourmarane) and Naveen Kumar J (Krishna), among others.

Unusually, there are long periods of silence, when nothing happens, except for soundless Kalaripayattu movements. This seems to be a risky ploy to use in these impatient times. “I wanted to avoid the noise and talk that is present in every play,” says Koumarane. “Because I believe that silence has more power than words.”

(Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

Sudipto Das, the author of the best-selling 'The Ekkos Clan', talks about the sufferings of people on the Bangladesh side during the 1947 Partition of India.

By Shevlin Sebastian

Bhrigu fell at her feet. “Ma, don’t go,” he pleaded, crying softly. “Let us all die together. I don’t want to survive like this. Let them kill all of us. Don’t go.” Khubha raised Bhrigu and held him to her. “Remember the river? He never stops, he never gets lost. He has to flow, and he should flow. If there are mountains in the way, he goes around them. He jumps and leaps and makes waterfalls. Do whatever you like, but never die. Anything is better than death. Let me go now.” Kubha closed the door. Bhrigu heard the door of the other room slam shut. Soon, he heard hushed cries of pain.”

This is an extract from Sudipto Das’s remarkable novel, ‘The Ekkos Clan’, where, for the first time, the experience of Hindus in East Bengal (now Bangladesh) is meticulously described. These includes riots, rapes, stabbings, and communal carnage.

“There was an equally horrific experience on the Bangladesh side, just as it was on the Punjab-Pakistan side,” says Sudipto, while on a brief reading visit to Kochi. “But not many people know about it. Even in Bengali literature, there is hardly any exploration of what had happened.”

And in his research Sudipto came across an interesting phenomenon. “The atrocities were not done by the local Muslims, but by the Bihari Muslims who came across the border and did mayhem,” he says. “In fact, the Bangla Muslims saved many Hindu families.”

Sudipto, himself, is of East Bengal origin. Like the two youngsters in the novel, his uncle, then 14, and father, only seven, made a daring escape, at the insistence of their mother, and made their way to Kolkata.

Many relatives followed suit. But despite living in Kolkata for fifty-odd years, home still meant Bangladesh. “They talked about Bangladesh all the time,” says Sudipto. “They always remembered their village and the people who lived there. The language we speak at home – Bangaal – is that which is spoken in Bangladesh. Their exile is a wound which has never healed. And it had impacted me even though I had a comfortable upbringing in Kolkata. That was one of the reasons I wrote on this subject.”

Not surprisingly, Khubha, the mother, is the most powerful character in the novel. A widow, she is strong, as well as practical. Khubha has an affair with her brother-in-law. “She is not a goddess, nor is she a vamp,” says Sudipto. “She is just a normal human being who succumbed to her desires.” And even as riots raged in East Bengal, and Hindus are being killed by Muslims, Khubha falls in love with a Muslim man.

But ‘The Ekkos Clan’ is not only about the 1947 Partition. The scene moves to present-day Stanford, in the USA, and to a place called Arkaim in Russia. It is a novel steeped in intellectual subjects: so there is linguistic paleontology, astrology, archaeology, music, maths, ancient history…the list goes on. And yet, all these subjects are dealt with, in an easy and simple style, so that the reader is never put off. And all these topics are pursued to understand the meaning of the stories that Khubha told her children when they were growing up.

Interestingly, Sudipto’s motivation to write his first book was unusual. “I am doing well in my profession,” says this Vice President of an electronic design services company in Bangalore. Sudipto is also an engineering graduate from the Indian Institute of Technology, Kharagpur. “But I also felt that I was not doing anything unique. Whatever I was doing, anybody else could do.”

So he decided to write a novel. “This book is mine alone,” he says. “And nobody else can lay claim to it.”

But it was not an easy task. He began work every day after 10 p.m., and wrote till 2 a.m. But he would have to get up at 7 a.m., to get ready to go to work. On weekends, he carried on working on the book. “For the past five-and-a-half years, I have screwed up my personal life,” says Sudipto, who is married, and has a 10-year-old son. “Every six months I would fall sick because of lack of sleep, stress, and office pressures.”

And then when the book was complete, it was not easy to find a publisher. “The literary world is a closed group and does not entertain outsiders,” says Sudipto. “They have their own shell. They don't like engineers or IT guys writing books. They look down on Chetan Bhagat, even though he has superb sales.”

But Sudipto had a stroke of luck when the Delhi-based Niyogi Books accepted his manuscript. And ever since the book was published in July, it has steadily climbed up the literature and fiction best-seller list on Flipkart and is perched at No. 19 now.

“I want more and more people to read it,” he says. “So I am going around the country holding book readings.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Do not Fill your Stomach, just Kill your Hunger

Hitting the Right Notes

Taking Control of their Lives

"My Husband is a Cool Person”

A Helping Hand in Kochi's Chaotic Traffic

Seeing Movies in his Mind

No Ordinary Love Story

Going Back Home

The Raja In Her Life

Bal on the Ball

Capturing Kathakali in all its Glory

Singing The Same Song

An Inside Look at the Bureaucracy

It’s Raining Cats and Dogs

Scaling The Heights of Love

The Planet is In Peril

A Palette of Different Colours

Blowing up the Indian Prime Minister

A Son Confronts his Abandonment

An Unflinching Look at Communal Carnage