shevlin's world

Cristelle Hart Singh and her husband, Ravinder Singh, run 'Amay', a shop which deals in recycled clothes, bags, and knick-knacks

Photo by Melton Antony

By Shevlin Sebastian

A few years ago, when Cristelle Hart Singh was pregnant with her first child, she did not suffer from food cravings. Instead, this British-Swiss woman had a desire to do carpentry. And so was born the idea of making a large chess board. “Neither Ravinder, my husband, or I play chess, but I insisted on buying a saw and plywood,” says Cristelle.

The couple, along with a friend, made large knights, rooks, pawns, bishops, queens and kings. Then, in their shop, they made a chess board, with black and white tiles, at one side on the floor. “Unfortunately, not many people took the time to play chess on a big board,” says Cristelle. So the board remains a charming attraction, while the pieces have been stored elsewhere.

Four years ago, on the island of Mattancherry, near Kochi, Cristelle and her Punjabi-origin spouse Ravinder converted a godown, with a sloping tiled roof, into a shop called 'Amay'. It is a Sanskrit word which means fair. “We want to be fair in our practices,” says Cristelle. “We try as much as possible to source our products from NGOs, like the Bangalore-based Belaku Trust, or woman's groups which are ethical. So, if somebody says that their products are recycled, it should be recycled, or if it is natural, it must be so.”

In fact, the charm about 'Amay' is the way the couple have used ordinary items as props. A wooden shelf rests on two pairs of old tyres. Bags are draped over a ladder as well as an old door. Plastic crates, flower pots, and water canisters have been used to hold up rods on which hang shawls and t-shirts.

On a low table, there are unusual glass trays. “This is made by a person called Joy, who melts beer and Caesar brandy bottles and makes trays,” says Ravinder. “The idea is to encourage reusing things, instead of throwing it away.”

Then there are note pads and greeting cards made from elephant dung. The dung is collected, cleaned, cooked, salted, then it is pulped and dried. “Then sheets are made from it,” says Ravinder.

They also sell recycled salwar kameez suits and cloth bags. These are made from leftover cloth at tailors shops. These could be a part of a dress material, furniture cloth or ends of curtains.

The couple make their own T-shirts under the brand name of in:ch. IN stands for India while CH is for Confoederatio Helvetica, the official name of Switzerland. One T-shirt has the legend, 'Coconut Republic', a nice reference to Kerala.

Not surprisingly, in tourist-magnet Mattancherry, 90 per cent of their customers are foreigners. “Most are looking for gifts to take back home,” says Cristelle. “So, our products sell well, especially during the November to March tourist season.”

The Britain-based Fiona told Cristelle, “We love your shop. There is so much of space to walk around. Don't change anything.”

A sale of part of the products is used for the upkeep of 'Dil Se', a boys home in Manasery, which is run by Cristelle. There are six boys, ranging in age from 5 to 18. “They are from destitute families,” says Cristelle. “Some are orphans.”

Meanwhile, despite living for so many years in Kochi, Cristelle is still trying to get used to the Malayali mind-set. “The Malayali has a child-like curiosity,” she says. “It can be fun, but sometimes they ask too many personal questions.”

But there are positives. “A stranger on the train, after just ten minutes of talking, will share his food and invite me to come home and meet his family,” says Cristelle. “You will not get this kind of hospitality and friendliness in Europe. It's wonderful.”

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

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Sajitha talks about life with the film director VK Prakash

Photo by M. Jithindra

By Shevlin Sebastian

Sukumaran Nair and Arvindakshan were colleagues in the same department at the Kozhikode Corporation. While Sukumaran worked in the health section, Arvindakshan was a training officer. One day when the friends were having a chat, they realised that their children had reached a marriageable age. Arvindakshan suggested his son, VK Prakash, as a possible bridegroom to Sukumaran's daughter Sajitha.

And that was how Prakash came to meet Sajitha in June, 1986.

The Bangalore-based Prakash was in advertising then, while Sajitha was doing her first year B.Sc (physics) from Providence Women's College in Kozhikode. “Prakash spoke about his career,” says Sajitha. “He asked me whether I would be able to cope with the pressure. I said I could. Then I told him about my studies.”

But it was a different era. Children just obeyed their parents. So Sajitha said yes. The wedding took place on August 22, 1986, at the Sumangali Kalyana Mandapam at Kozhikode.

In the initial years it took Sajitha some time to adjust to life with a creative person. “In my home, my dad would come back home after work always at the same time,” says Sajitha. “But with Prakash it was different. He would stay for a few days and go away for several weeks.”

Asked about her husband's plus points, Sajitha says, “He is not demanding at all. I can do whatever I like in my spare time. I have an inner freedom.”

Other pluses: “Prakash is a family man,” says Sajitha. “Whenever there is a break in shooting, he will come home.” This happened recently, when Prakash was in Mumbai, shooting the Marathi remake of the Malayalam film, 'Shutter', and returned to Bangalore for just one day to see his wife.

Or sometimes, when the gap is too long, and Prakash is unable to come, Sajitha goes to the sets. And she is surprised by how different he is. “At home, Prakash is relaxed and lazes around,” says Sajitha. “But on the sets he is energised, focused and passionate. He is another person. Somebody who is concentrated on his work.”

But the director has his shortcomings. “Prakash is short-tempered and gets angry over the most trivial of things,” says Sajitha. “He does not like any disturbance when he is working. He needs space and silence.”

Not surprisingly, Prakash is over-sensitive. If he hears a negative comment about his work, he feels upset for days together. “I tell him that you cannot please everybody all the time,” says Sajitha. “We have to learn to live with criticism.”

Unlike most directors, Prakash came to Mollywood after ten years in advertising. But Sajitha was not apprehensive, because Prakash never closed his advertising company 'Trendz'. So there was a steady income. Sajitha had been sure Prakash would go into films one day. He had studied at the School of Arts in Trissur. Most of the outings during the early days of their marriage were to the theatre. “He had been passionate about films for a long time,” she says.

Interestingly, Sajitha sees Prakash's film in the theatre and never at home, nor does she look at the rushes. “When I watch Prakash's film, I always think of the enormous amount of work that went into it, which the audience is unaware of,” she says. Her favourite films include 'Punaradhivasam', 'Beautiful' and 'Natholi Oru Cheriya Meenalla'.

When Prakash is writing a story, he will bounce ideas off Sajitha. She listens to the storyline, like an ordinary viewer, and will tell him whether she likes it or not. But she does not give any creative suggestions.

Expectedly, when one of his films is a hit, Prakash is in a happy frame of mind. To celebrate, sometimes, he will take Sajitha and their daughter, Kavya, 21, for a short vacation. Some of the places they have visited have included the Jim Corbett Park at Uttarakhand, and cities like Jaipur and Singapore.

In their spare time, they watch a lot of movies. In fact, their last film was 'Queen', which starred Kangana Ranaut. “Prakash liked it a lot,” says Sajitha.
“He said that it was a new-generation style of film-making. The approach was fresh. Prakash felt that it was a good sign for Bollywood that the audience had accepted a woman in the lead role.”

Finally, when asked for tips for a successful marriage, Sajitha says, “You have to understand the merits and demerits of your spouse. And learn to accept the negative aspects. Nobody is perfect. Healthy criticism is good. But you have to be careful that it does not become nagging. When a spouse has a passion, you should give him or her the space to concentrate on that.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

The Baroda-based artist, Gulammuhammed Sheikh, a Padma Bhushan awardee, talks about the life of the artist as well as his own work

Photos: 'Returning Home', oil on canvas; the artist

By Shevlin Sebastian

What should an artist do if there is grave injustice in society? Should he become an activist and go out and fight on behalf of the people? Or should he stay aloof? These questions have tormented artists for centuries.

The Baroda-based artist Gulammuhammed Sheikh, a Padma Bhushan Awardee tackled this vexing subject during a question-and-answer session at a talk organised by the Kochi Muziris Biennale.

“My job is to paint,” he says. “It is not to agitate. I should find ways of working through my medium to reach out to people. Art is the only way I can reach out. It is a perennial debate of whether the artist should join hands with activism.”

Sheikh recounted the debate among intellectuals in the 1930s during the Spanish Civil war. There was a young British poet, Christopher Cauldwell, who was considered to be one of the finest. “The poet was so moved by what was happening in Spain that one day he left for the war front,” says Sheikh. “Unfortunately, he was killed [on February 12, 1937] because he did not know how to fight.”

Within the intellectual community there was a debate. Did the poet make the right decision? By getting himself killed, it was a huge waste of potential. What should an artist do in such a situation? “Some felt that it was right to join the war,” says Sheikh. “But there were others who felt that following one's vocation is the right way.”

Sheikh believes in the latter concept. “Your aim should be to remain true to your profession and push yourself to the maximum,” he says. “However, art does not prevent people from killing others. Art is made so that people can reflect about the actions they are doing. Why are they killing human beings? Why do they hate the 'other'? In the end you will become a better person. It is a long drawn-out business. It is not that as soon as you do a painting, the riots will stop.”

Meanwhile, when asked about the link between the artist and religion, Sheikh says, “The world has multiple faiths. I am interested to know how Muslims, Hindus, Christians and Jains perceive the world. However, I want to explore every religion without being judgemental. I would like to see how a Jain monk lives. How does he move about without wearing any footwear?

The members of the Digambara sect do not wear any clothes. Isn't that fascinating? What drives me is a sense of wonder.”

And Sheikh has also been wonderstruck that Kochi has made a mark internationally. “It is wonderful that Kochi has hosted an international Biennale,” he says. “And it was amazing that it was not Delhi, Mumbai or Kolkata, but a place in the south. What I saw at the Biennale was extremely enriching. I am very glad to be here.”

Sheikh had come to Kochi to visit sites where he can put up a work for the upcoming Biennale in December, 2014. And he also gave a talk to an audience, which comprised artists and art lovers, regarding his work, which was titled, 'Walking The World'. “This is because I have wanderlust,” he says. “And whereever it is possible, I go walking.”

In 1969, Sheikh returned, after a three-year sojourn in England, and made a painting called 'Returning Home'. “I brought in an image from my childhood in Kathiawad, where I grew up,” he says. “I also borrowed an image of the prophet Mohammed from a Persian painting. The boundary wall in the painting was similar to the one in the area where I lived as a child, along with a mill and a mosque. And right in front I have put a photo of my mother. This was an attempt to re-create my home.”

However, today, Sheikh is best known for his monumental mural, 'Tree of Life', commissioned by the New Vidhan Bhavan of the Madhya Pradesh legislature at Bhopal at a cost of Rs 20 lakh.

In the work, which is about three storeys high, there is a door and images of legislators among the branches of a large tree. “They are discussing issues like the Narmada Dam agitation and the Bhopal gas leak,” he says. “By the tree trunk, I have placed a chair. This is to indicate the chair of the government. Around the chair there are many characters hovering about. During the time of King Vikramaditya, he had 32 dolls which would come to life the moment he sat on the throne. They would ask the king whether he deserved to sit on the chair. So I thought this was the right kind of symbol to use in a political space like this.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

The Norwegian ambassador Arne Roy Walther talks about life with the former journalist Anita Pratap

Photo: Anita Pratap and Arne Roy Walther at a site of the Kochi Muziris Biennale

By Shevlin Sebastian

Every morning, the then Norwegian ambassador to India, Arne Roy Walther, would get up at his home in New Delhi, make a cup of coffee, and watch the television news. One day, when he was seeing the CNN news channel, he saw Anita Pratap for the first time. “I was impressed by her commentary and realised that she was a special person,” says Arne. “From then on, I watched CNN instead of the BBC to catch a glimpse of Anita.”

A few months later, in 1996, the elite of Indian society, along with foreign ambassadors, had gathered to watch and interact with the Miss World competitors at an event in New Delhi (the beauty pageant was later held in Bangalore). “I spotted

Anita in the crowd chatting with one of my diplomat colleagues,” says Arne. “She was wearing an elegant sari, and looked far more beautiful than the scantily-clad contestants half her age on the stage.”

Arne sensed his opportunity and hurried across to say hallo to his friend. “He introduced me to Anita and graciously left me alone with her,” says Arne. “I cannot remember what we talked about, but I tried hard to make a good impression.” After a long conversation, Arne invited Anita for a lunch date a couple of days later and the journalist accepted.

At the lunch, the discussion was intense and exhilarating. “I realised that we had the same values and outlook on life, although Anita was born in Kottayam, and had lived all her life in India, while I was born in New York, and had stayed in several countries,” says Arne.

They remained in touch even as Arne and Anita continued with their busy careers. But Arne's hand was forced three years later, when he was transferred back to Oslo. So he proposed to Anita.

He did it the day before she left to make a documentary film in the North-East. Anita smiled, but did not give a reply. But Arne was sure Anita knew about his feelings. “So my proposal could not have come as a surprise to her,” he says.

A week later, Anita returned and said, “Yes.”

Little did they realise that there would be a few marriage ceremonies. The first wedding took place on Guy Fawke’s Day on November 5, 1999, at the Norwegian Embassy in Madrid. Thereafter, the couple went for a honeymoon in Southern Spain. “We enjoyed the beautiful mountains, the scenic coast and the Islamic heritage of the Moors in Seville,” says Arne.

The second event took place at New Delhi in February, 2000. It was a civil marriage on the lawns of the house of the then Union Law Minister, Ram Jethmalani. Signing the papers, Jethmalani looked at Arne, and jokingly said, “Now, just try getting out of this marriage!”

The third marriage was hosted by senior professional Sunand Sharma and his wife Livleen on the rooftop of their home in Delhi home on a full-moon night. “It was the brightest moon in 133 years,” says Arne. “There were two elephants and 128 dancing gypsies greeting the 400 guests.”

The high point for Arne was when Anita tied a thread around his wrist, while Livleen forcefully pressed the palm of his hand to the flame of a candle. “It hurt a lot,” says Arne. “But I endured the pain like a true Viking and proved to one and all how prepared I was to marry Anita.” Ever since, Anita always ties a new thread on Arne when the old one frays away. “As part of the ritual, I still hold the palm of my hand above the flame of a candle, albeit now at a more comfortable distance,” he says, with a smile.

When asked the difference between Norwegian and Indian women, Arne says, “Norwegian women are usually blonde with blue eyes and spend time skiing, while Indian women have black hair and dark eyes and enjoy eating spicy food. However, both are excitingly enigmatic.”

Today Arne is posted to Tokyo, where he is Norway's ambassador. Whenever Anita is in Tokyo, every morning, after a cup of coffee, the couple go for a morning walk in a nearby park. “We talk about what is going on in the world, and tease each other at every opportunity,” says Arne. “Japan is an open, safe and secure society. The culture is fascinating and the food is good. But I always enjoy Anita’s 'meen mappas' and 'payasam'.”

And Arne is also enjoying watching a constantly-evolving Anita. “She is getting younger in spirit, while maturing in thought and outlook,” says Arne. “We both love to travel and meet people.”

Meanwhile, after 15 years of marriage, Arne has some valuable tips to pass on. “Always talk and do things together,” he says. “Give each other space. Benefit from differences in character. Be serious, but also enjoy life. And do not forget the many less fortunate in society and do something for them. We are all one big family in a global home.”

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

Prof. Chris Gosden of Oxford University says that the world has been globalised for hundreds of years

Photo by Melton Antony

By Shevlin Sebastian

“We think of globalisation as a modern phenomenon,” says Prof. Chris Gosden, Chair of European Archaeology at Oxford University. “But in many ways, the world has been globalised for centuries. Things moved more slowly in the past than they do now, but people, ideas and materials have moved constantly. I would say that there are two basic, but contradictory things which have characterised human life.”

On the one hand, human beings are prone to form groups. They formed communities which had some sort of a boundary and learned to deal with the world in particular ways. “People became the people they are by being members of particular groups,” says Gosden.

In a social unit, individuals usually have five people who are significant and important. “Then there is a larger segment of colleagues and friends, something in the order of 20, and then a much larger group of 100-400 people we know to some degree,” says Gosden. “So, each of us lives in a series of groups, which are meaningful to us in various levels. We also exist in a much larger society of 2,500 people at different times. It could be strangers and occasionally antagonistic sets of relationships. While they may be fleeting and brief, they can be influential.”

Meanwhile, even as humans have lived in communities, ideas, people and culture have moved between groups. “So these two notions are in tension with each other,” says Gosden. “There is a tendency to divide up and the need to connect at the same time.”

Incidentally, Gosden was giving a lecture at Kochi called ‘Ancient Global Connections and Pattanam’, which was organised by the Kerala Council of Historical Research (KCHR) and the Indian National Trust For Art and Cultural Heritage.

Gosden, along with colleague Dr. Wendy Morrison, and a team of archaeology students from Oxford University worked on the Pattanam site along with the members of the KCHR, under the leadership of Director Prof. P J Cherian.

“In a small way our collaboration has created an international multi-cultural team,” says Gosden. “The teams have got along very well together and have learnt things which go way beyond archaeology. We are hoping that in future, people from various places in Kerala will come to Oxford. We will be happy to give them as warm a welcome as we have received.”

Reverting to his topic, Gosden says, “The human story is of movement, connections and long-term travel. About 1.8 billion years ago, our ancestors started moving out of Africa, to Europe, India, China and to south-east Asia. These people learned to exist in environments that were strange to them. They encountered new plants and animals. To deal with them, they developed a mentality of adaptation, flexibility and change.”

But because people lived in different environments, differences started to appear, in the way they dressed, behaved or consumed food. According to Dorian Fuller, a professor of archaeobotany, there were different ways in which people processed, cooked and consumed food.

In present-day China, Siberia and Japan, there are ancient pottery traditions that go back 20,000 years. “This pottery may have something to do with boiling and steaming,” says Gosden. “The modern-day manifestation of this is rice cultures.”

However, if one looks at the Middle East, parts of Africa and Europe, there are different traditions like grinding of cereals and roasting of meat. But in the Indian subcontinent the people partook of the western as well as the eastern tradition.

“One of the key aspects of India is that the people accepted traditions coming from outside as well as those which originated in the sub-continent,” says Gosden. “India is a place where people and customs would meet, fuse and mix. Kerala is the epitome of a multicultural mix of societies which have lived together in healthy co-existence for centuries.”

However, the surprising aspect of the evidence from Pattanam and other sites is the scale of connections with different parts of the world.

“In Pattanam there was a flourishing trade with numerous countries,” says Gosden. “The people exported gems, spices, wine and food to the Roman world. The Romans were profoundly influenced by their Indian connections. But when we read the history of Europe, it would seem that the people got inspiration only from Athens and Rome. But it is now clear that Persian and Indian cultures were important influences. It is obvious from the architectural and artefact evidence, that Pattanam is a site of great importance.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Jude Anthany Joseph has made a 12-minute film on the life of Malayalam superstar Mammooty. His debut film, 'Ohm Shanti Oshana' is also a box office hit

Photo by Melton Anthony

By Shevlin Sebastian

Two years ago, the actor Nivin Pauly gave a book to his friend, Jude Anthany Joseph. It was the 300-page autobiography of Mollywood superstar Mammooty called 'Chamayangaliillade' (Sans any make-up). When Jude began reading it, he found it so interesting, he could not stop. He read through the night.

The next day, Jude told Nivin that he could make a film.

Nivin said, “That's why I gave you the book.”

Since Jude was an unknown, he decided to make a 12-minute short film. “I felt I could do some scenes from Mammooty's childhood,” says Jude.

To do research, the debutant director went to Mammooty's village in Chempu, in Kottayam district. “I pretended to be a journalist to the locals,” he says. Jude took photos of Mammooty's shuttered house, the school where he studied, and other places of interest.

He also met Mammooty's school teacher, Sahadevan and his wife Nalini, who are still teaching. “Sahadevan Sir told me that Mammooty was always interested in the arts from a young age,” says Jude.

In fact, in a scene from the film, 'Mamookka's Biography', which can be seen on You Tube, the teacher asked the students what they wanted to be when they grew up. A couple of students listed the professions of policeman and chief minister. But, one boy, to the shock of the teacher and his classmates, said he wanted to be an actor.

The 10-year-old boy, MA Jeyasuriyaa, who played the younger Mammooty was an inspired selection. Jude saw him at a drama club and quickly noted his acting talent. In the film, Jeyasuriyaa looked confident and mischievous.

One day, he saw a postman, who was riding a bicycle, near his school. He asked him whether he was going to deliver letters to his home that day. The man nodded. Then, impishly, the junior Mammooty asked the postman if he could carry his school books, along with the letters, and give them to his mother, while he went out to play.

But there were disappointments, too. To get a role in a play conducted by the school drama club, the senior students asked for 50 paise. Mammooty managed to persuade his father to give him the money. But when Mammooty met the senior students, they told him his closest friend had paid the money and got the role. Mammooty felt crushed.

Nevertheless, it is an inspiring story. “Who could have imagined that this boy from a small village would one day become a megastar of Malayalam cinema,” says Jude.

In April, 2012, Jude showed the film to Mammooty in his trailer during a shoot at Kochi. “He liked many aspects,” says Jude. “I told him I wanted to make a full-length feature film. Immediately, Mammooty asked me to write a screenplay.

Jude is busy with that at present.

Meanwhile, two months ago, Jude released his first feature, 'Ohm Shanti Oshana', which stars Nivin and Nazriya Nazim in the title roles. It is a sweet and endearing love story between youngsters. And it has become a super-duper hit.

But Jude seems to be an unlikely candidate to make an impact at the box office. An electronics engineer, he worked for three years at Infosys, Bangalore. But he had always nurtured a dream to be a film director. “I watched a movie every day on the computer for years together,” he says. “I learnt direction like that.”

So, one day, he gave up his job and chased his dream.

Just like his hero Mammooty.

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

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Supriya talks about life with the actor Suraj Venjaramoodu

By Shevlin Sebastian

On April 16, the news was announced that Mollywood actor Suraj Venjaramoodu had won the national award for best actor for his role in the film, 'Perariyathavar'. On that day, Suraj's wife, Supriya, was returning home from a visit to her brother's house in Thiruvananthapuram. When she stepped out of the car she got a jolt. She had never seen such a large crowd of reporters and television cameramen before.

“What was most shocking was when they asked me to say a few words about Suraj winning the award,” she says. “That people wanted to know my views was such a surprise. I am a person who has never been in the limelight.”

Not surprisingly, not a single word came out. Instead, Supriya began crying silently. Later, her friends said that she should have said something. But Surpriya has no regrets. “I thanked God for this great gift he gave my husband,” she says.

For Supriya, Suraj is also a gift. And it was Supriya's close friend, Sreelatha, who is a cousin of Suraj, who came up with the proposal. Supriya was agreeable and met Suraj, along with Sreelatha, at the Sree Padmanabhaswamy temple at Thiruvananthapuram on December 6, 2002.

At that time, Suraj was a well-known TV artist. And he was dressed flamboyantly in an orange shirt and black jeans. When Supriya saw him she was in a state of shock. It was the first time that she was seeing an actor in the flesh. Supriya's first impression was that Suraj was a down-to-earth person.

“Suraj asked me a few questions about what what I was doing,” she says. At that time, Supriya was giving entrance coaching to post-graduate and MBA students at a private academy in Thiruvananthapuram. Evidently, Suraj also liked her. Because he met Supriya's father, and said, “Sir, I would like to marry your daughter.” Supriya's parents said yes, because they liked him as an actor.

However, when the horoscopes were matched, the astrologer suggested a delay. Eventually, the couple got married, two-and-a-half years later, on July 3, 2005, at the Sree Vaikuntam Kalyana Mandapam in Thiruvananthapuram. There was no honeymoon. Instead, they went to the 'Rajamanikyam' film set in Pollachi, where Suraj had to do the shooting for just one scene.

And that was where Supriya met Mammooty for the first time. “He asked my name, and blessed me to have a happily married life,” says Supriya. “Mammooty then and now is a simple and humble person.”

Meanwhile, when asked about Suraj's plus points, Supriya says, “Whereever he is, the first thing he does in the morning is to call me. He will always ask about the children [Kashinath, 7, Vasudev, 5, and one-year-old Hriddya]. At night, he will ask about the happenings during the day. Suraj is a caring person.”

But Supriya finds it difficult to adjust to the lack of pre-planning on Suraj's part. “Suddenly, he will say that we will be going on a trip the next day,” she says. “Then I have to rush to get everything ready.”

Recently, the family had gone for a holiday in Dubai. They had the opportunity to go to the top of the Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world. “It was an awesome experience, to see the whole of Dubai from the top,” says Supriya. “We also travelled on a ship at night. It was beautiful.”

But vacations are the rare periods when the family is together. On an average, because of his hectic acting career, Suraj spends ten days at home every month. In fact, that is one of the reasons why the family moved to Kochi from Thiruvananthapuram three years ago. “It is easier for Suraj to come home from location sets,” says Supriya. “As a result, the children miss him less.”

When Suraj is at home and if a new film of his has just been released, the family goes for a night show at a hall. “Suraj always prefers to see films on the big screen,” says Supriya. And after the show, Supriya does give a critique. “Most of the time, it is positive, but at other times I will say, 'It could have been better',” she says. “Suraj listens carefully to what I have to say. Sometimes, he will say that he can only do what the director tells him to do. There are occasions when he has asked whether he could try something different and directors have said no.”

Finally, when asked to give tips for a successful marriage, Supriya says, “Marriage is a big change in your life. It is a new life you will be sharing with another person. So you must try to understand your spouse as well as his family. You have to learn to give space to him. If there are flaws in you, it should be corrected. I am not saying that you should change your personality, but it would be better to correct the mistakes.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Playwright Gopi Warrier's plays, 'Ego Of The Yogis' and 'Polyester Lordship', on Indian themes, have been performed, to acclaim, in London

By Shevlin Sebastian

One afternoon, in 1984, Gopi Warrier pressed the bell for the lift in a hotel in Nuremberg, Germany. When the door opened, eight policemen jumped out with guns, and said, 'Don't move or we will shoot.' Gopi put up his hands and the police searched him. Thereafter, they took him to his room.

A thorough search was done. Then one of the cops took out a picture of Carlos The Jackal, the most wanted terrorist in the world at that time. “Unfortunately, with my spectacles, I look just like him,” says Gopi. “They drove me to the police station to take my fingerprints.” It was quite some time before the police realised they had made a mistake.

But there was no mistake in the reception of Gopi's two plays, 'Ego Of The Yogis' and 'Polyester Lordship', which is being staged by the Theatre of Devas and New End Theatre at the Steiner Theatre in London. “Yes, a lot of people have expressed their appreciation,” he says.

Dr. Michael Yorke, a former BBC director and award-winning film-maker, says, “I was fascinated by Gopi's plays and, particularly, by the 'Ego of the Yogis'. It was provocative and suitably cynical. Overall, it was a professional production, superbly directed, and acted.”

Interestingly, both the plays deal with Indian themes. In 'Ego Of The Yogis', an upper-class English girl, Ilona Foxpitt, meets an Indian man, Kumar, a professor of philosophy, who talks to her about the nature of illusion. She does not see him after that first meeting. So Ilona goes in search of him, visiting yoga centres, to learn about Indian spirituality and philosophy. “Ilona found them mechanical,” says Gopi. “All of them peddle western yoga. She gets disillusioned.”

During the play, for the first time, philosopher Adi Shankara's famous poem, 'Kanakadhara Stavam', which he recites in the house of a poor woman who gives him alms, is sung on a London stage.

In the second play, 'Polyester Lordship', a young man, Peter Bynham, recruited by a British firm, Beechcroft and Sons, comes up with a plan. Beechcroft is a minority shareholder of a company in Mumbai, which is sitting on a huge tract of land. “Peter's idea is to gain 51 per cent ownership, and force the workers to move off, so that Beechcroft can sell the land at a huge profit,” says Gopi. Not surprisingly, the mafia and politicians get involved. In short, it is a look at contemporary India.

Although Gopi is a businessman, writing is in his genes. His grandfather, M.R. Krishna Warrier was once a leading poet of Kerala. His father, G.P. Warrier, was a former chairman of the Indian National Railways and Principal Secretary to the Government of India. Gopi himself took an MBA at the London Business School, and studied at the French Business School near Paris, and at the New York University Graduate School. And he gives an interesting reason to leave India. “I wanted to avoid being observed by my family all the time,” he says. “So I escaped to England.”

In London, Gopi runs an Ayurveda hospital and a foundation to help struggling writers. When he is the mood to write, which is usually at his office, he dictates to his secretary, Mrs. Jassal. So far, Gopi has staged seven plays. “More are in the offing, including a book of poems,” he says.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Sujit Dilip, a second-generation owner of the Rambo Circus, talks about his experiences

Photo by Mithun Vinod

By Shevlin Sebastian

Several years ago, when Sujit Dilip was assisting his father, the owner of the Rambo Circus, he spent a night near the lion's cage. And he had a tough time. Because the entire night, the lions made roaring sounds. The second night also went like this. On the third night, an intrigued Sujit decided to find out what the problem was.

“When I went near the cages, I saw that the lions were being fed,” he says. “But what shocked me was that it was only bones.” The circus had outsourced the supply of meat. The man who brought the meat, in connivance with the person tasked to look after the lions, was only supplying bones. “When I discovered this, I sacked both of them,” says the Pune-based Sujit.

Thereafter, Sujit bought fresh meat and fed it to the animals. That night there was silence in the cages. “It was then that I understood that during the first two nights, the lions were trying to communicate with me about the cheating that was taking place,” says Sujit.

Unfortunately, circus owners received a body blow when the Centre banned the use of lions and tigers more than ten years ago. “It was too harsh,” says Sujit. “Not all circuses were treating animals cruelly. The Government could have appointed an inspector and monitored the treatment.”

To counter this, the Rambo Circus hired Russian artistes, began new tight-wire acts, along with the Wheel of Death item which was taught by Colombian circus performers. As a result, the Rambo circus continued to flourish. Today, it has an employee strength of 160.

And the circus has begun to attract a new audience: college students. “One reason is because we provide fusion music, like African sounds with tabla beats,” he says. “We are also using laser lights, smoke, and sound. Fifty percent of the success of any particular act depends on this aspect.”

And despite spending more than twenty years in the trade Sujit is learning new things. A few years ago, he had gone to see the Monte Carlo Circus Festival. There he met the Ashton Brothers, whose family have been trapeze artists for seven generations. While talking to them, he realised that the trapeze act which was being done in India was technically wrong.

“In India, the catcher and flyer are on the same level,” he says. “So when a flyer does a double somersault it is difficult for the catcher to hold him properly. But in Monte Carlo, the catcher was 10 feet below and had ample time to hold the flyer.” When Sujit returned to India, he immediately implemented the changes.

Another change which he has implemented is to move the circus from the tent to the auditorium. The reason is simple: it is difficult to get open spaces in metropolitan cities, which are accessible to everybody.

Also, the well-to-do do not want to see the circus in tent. So Sujit set up a show at Prithvi Theatre in Mumbai and it was a success. “We did a few more shows after that,” he says. And now Sujit has come with the 'Magic Circus of Samoa' for a performance at a hall in Kochi. The Samoan and Indian artistes included jugglers, acrobats, aerialists, unicyclists, fire dancers, dancers and clowns.

However, despite the pleasures of the job, it is still a high-pressure life for Sujit. Recently, after obtaining permission from city administrators, he had taken the circus to Belgaum in Karnataka. But, at the last moment, the Election Commission of India took over the land where the circus was to be held as the place to store Electronic Voting Machines. So, they cancelled the permission.

“I had arrived with 40 trucks which consisted of equipment and staff,” says Sujit. “The daily expenses were Rs 1 lakh. The authorities told me to hold a performance after the April 17 elections. But how could I feed people for so many days without an income?”

So Sujit rushed to Hubli, 125 kms away, to get permission to hold a show in that town. “I love the circus so much that I take all these setbacks in my stride,” says Sujit.

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

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Vijaysree talks about her life with the film director Dr. Biju Damodaran

Photo by Ravi Choudhary

By Shevlin Sebastian

“My husband had approached many eminent stars to play the role of a sweeper in his film, ‘Perariyathavar’,” says Vijaysree, the spouse of award-winner film director Dr. Biju Damodaran. “First they would show interest. Then they would turn it down because they did not want to play a sweeper. Biju was in despair. He had almost given up on the film.”

But it was Vijaysree who suggested the name of Suraj Venjaramoodu after seeing him on a television show. “I felt that he would do the role well,” she says. And when the director approached Suraj, he said yes immediately. “Then Biju had a stroke of luck when he met the producer K Anilkumar during Onam last year and he agreed to make the film,” says Vijaysree. And now all of them are basking in the stunning news that while Dr. Biju won the national award for best film on environment/conservation for ‘Perariyathavar’ , Suraj won it for best actor.

The tale of Dr Biju and Vijaysree began when they saw each other for the first time in April, 2001, because of a marriage proposal. Biju was wearing a red-coloured shirt and a white mundu. “When I saw him for the first time, I immediately felt a liking for him,” says Vijaysree. The feeling was mutual. On September 10, they got married at Vijaysree’s home town of Kulakkada in Kollam district. For their honeymoon they went to Elappara in Idukki. “It was a place of scenic beauty,” she says. “And we had a nice time.”

Over the past few years, Vijaysree has slowly got used to Biju’s unusual life of being a doctor – a medical superintendent at the Kayamakulam Government Homeo Hospital – as well as an award-winning film director. “Unlike most creative artists who lock themselves up in a room when they want to write a script, Biju can write anywhere,” says Vijaysree. “Even as he is having a chat with me, he may be working on his script. Then he might stop writing and play with our six-year-old son Govardhan. Most of the time, he likes to write while sitting on the bed.”

And Biju sounds out Vijaysree as soon as he gets an idea. “I react like an ordinary person,” says Vijaysree. “If I like the idea, I will say yes or it is a plain no.”

Vijaysree admits that Biju’s award-winning films – ‘Saira’, ‘Raman’, ‘Veettilekkulla Vazhi’, and ‘Akasathinte Niram’ – are not for a mass audience. But Biju got a surprise recently. His friend, Dr. Mathew Kurian, who works in a private hospital at Piravom, told him that he had an old woman as a patient. She comes from a poor family. One day she told the doctor that she liked ‘Veettilekkulla Vazhi’. “So ordinary people also like my husband’s films,” says Vijaysree, with a smile.

Asked about her husband’s plus points, Vijaysree says, “Biju is always cool, no matter what happens. He looks at everything in a positive way. Whenever problems arise at the hospital, on the sets or at home, he always reacts in a cool manner.”

Vijaysree also likes her husband’s helping nature. “One day when he came back after a long trip, he was told by his mother that her sister, Rajamma, was not well,” she says. “Immediately Biju set out for the hospital to monitor the treatment. Even if there is such a situation in my family, he will rush to help.”

At his workplace, Vijaysree has seen Biju behave in a humble and simple manner. “This is so rare,” she says. “Government doctors behave so arrogantly and in a high-handed manner. You can observe that when you ask them for a medical certificate.”

Perhaps the one aspect which irritates Vijaysree about her husband is that when she falls ill, Biju takes it in a casual manner. “Maybe, it is because he is a doctor and knows that the illness is not a serious one,” she says.

Another negative is that he is always on the phone. Patients ring him up, so do people from the film industry, his colleagues and friends. “This has become a lot more after he won the National Award,” says Vijaysree.

In fact, their neighbours in Adoor in Pathanamthitta district did not even know that he was a film-maker. “They were very surprised when they read the news in the newspaper that he had won the award,” says Vijaysree.

And the neighbours later rued the fact that when Suraj came to visit Biju, the people did not know till they saw the photos in the next day’s newspaper. “If only you had told us,” some of them said with disappointed smiles to Vijaysree.

But Vijaysree says that it was a sudden visit. “Suraj was so happy that both Biju and he had won the national award,” she says.

When asked to give tips for a successful marriage, “I always say that a girl should marry a little late. I was 26 when I got married while Biju was 30,” says Vijaysree. “So I had the maturity to handle the problems of marriage better. I also knew how to adjust to my husband’s family. You should love the spouse once you get married. And always be honest with each other.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

The Kochi Toastmasters recently celebrated its 10th anniversary. The organisation, which develops public speaking skills, is thriving

Photo by Melton Antony

By Shevlin Sebastian

In 2000, businessman CM Daniel returned to Kochi after spending two decades in Bahrain and the United Arab Emirates. In both these countries, he had been a member of Toastmasters International. This is an institution which helps members to improve their speaking and leadership skills.

However, when Daniel made inquiries about joining a Toastmasters club he got a shock. There was not a single club in Kochi. It was at this time that he met his Toastmaster friends from Bahrain who had also returned. They included George Mathai, Joseph Lukose and the late Augustine Joseph. They, along with Daniel's friends, Paul Manjooran and AO Thomas, decided to start a Toastmasters club at Kochi.

The first meeting, which was held, at the YMCA, Palarivattom, on April 26, 2004, was inaugurated by a former resident editor of The New Indian Express. And now, for the tenth anniversary celebrations, held recently at Kochi, Resident Editor Vinod Mathew did the honours. “The New Indian Express is the only newspaper that has supported us through all these years,” says Daniel, who is the founder-president.

In his speech Vinod Mathew bemoaned the lack of English-speaking skills among students these days. “English is the universal language for communication,” he says. “I interview about 20 wannabe journalists every couple of months. What I have found is that there is no match between the written results and their communication skills. So, there is a need for a holistic development from the school level. The Toastmasters should take an initiative on this.”

Later, founder member George Mathai said that they would be following up on this idea. “One of the aims of the Toastmasters is to impart skills to the youth and uplift them,” he says.

In his speech, Daniel identified the different types of members. “The story goes that there were three stone cutters employed in a project,” he says. “The first one was asked, ‘What are you doing here?’ He said, ‘I am making a livelihood’. The second one said, ‘I am just raising a wall’. The third one said, ‘I am involved along with a team of people to complete this project, which is meant for serving society’.”

These three types are represented in every Toastmasters club. “We have people who have limited objectives,” says Daniel. “They will complete a few speeches and quit. Or they will reach a certain recognition level, and then leave. But, finally, there are people who are dedicated to spreading the message of Toastmasters.”

Thanks to the hard work of these members, there are 17 clubs today. Says Lal Xavier, the Divisional Governor of Kerala, “For the past ten years we have expanded through the length and breadth of Kerala. I am sure we will have a club in every district in the near future.”

Following the official function, a regular meeting of the Toastmasters took place. And what was striking was the emphasis that the club placed on timings. So, if a speaker is allotted five minutes to speak, a timekeeper sits at one side with a contraption in front of him. At the conclusion of two minutes, a green light is switched on. A yellow light will come on when one minute is left and a red light when the time is up.

“Apart from speeches, there is a segment called table topics,” says Kochi Toastmasters Club President Dr. Neena Thomas. “A toastmaster will state a subject and the participant will have to answer it within two minutes. The idea is to think swiftly on your feet.”

And whatever speech you give, it is evaluated by members who will state the positive as well as the negative aspects. “This is very helpful in improving a member's performance,” says senior member, Monish V.T.

All the speakers spoke with verve and panache. It is clear that the Toastmasters have a very successful programme. Incidentally, the Toastmasters has a worldwide membership of 3 lakh people in 122 countries.

Tips for Public Speaking

Know your material: Pick a topic you are interested in. Use humour, personal stories and conversational language – that way you won’t easily forget what to say.

Practice, Practice, Practice! Rehearse out loud. Practice with a timer and allow time for the unexpected.

Know the audience: Greet some of the audience members as they arrive. It is easier to speak to a group of friends than to strangers.

Know the room: Arrive early, walk around the speaking area and practice using the microphone and any visual aids.

Relax: Begin by addressing the audience. It buys you time and calms your nerves. Pause, smile and count to three before saying anything. Transform nervous energy into enthusiasm.

Realise that people want you to succeed: An audience wants you to be interesting, stimulating, informative and entertaining. They are rooting for you.

Don’t apologise for any nervousness or problem – the audience probably never noticed it.

Concentrate on the message: Focus your attention away from your own anxieties and concentrate on your message and your audience.

Source: www.toastmasters.org

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

By Shevlin Sebastian

The other day, a thought came to my mind: what will I miss when I die? And immediately I realised I will miss my morning cup of tea along with the newspaper. I will miss hearing the early morning twitter of birds, as well as the chants from temples, mosques and churches. I will miss writing and reading on the laptop. Sharing jokes and bonhomie with friends. The company of my wife, children, parents and siblings. Looking at water: in lakes, waterfalls and rushing rivers.Enjoying the monsoon rainfall as it washes the land into a breathtaking expanse of green.

And when I die, what will I see? A huge expanse of black with twinkling stars. A puzzling thought: why did the God of light make an universe so black? Why did He not choose the colours of the rainbow?

And what will I do in the afterlife? How will I pass the time? Surely, there are no movies or sports events there? Will I just stare and stare, for hundreds of years? Or will I be reborn? Will I return as an Indian? Or an Australian or an African? And this life, without a body? Will it be fun to live without sex and companionship? Will women – God's most enigmatic creation – be as enthralling without their physical presence? And divorced couples on earth: will they continue to bicker in the afterlife?

And where will my brain be? Will it remain on earth? Or at the point of death, will the brain move to the soul? Or does the soul become the brain in the afterlife? What am I trying to say is, how do I think? A sudden painful thought: I will no longer have the company of physical books.

And which God is the leader? Of which religion? Surely, there has to be a hierarchy? And how will religious fundamentalists be treated in the afterlife? Suppose a man on earth shoots people and blows up buses and trains in the name of his God, whom he says dominates the universe. What happens when the man dies and realises that his God is No. 4 in the pecking order. What will the top three Gods do? Will they get pissed off? Will they banish the zealot to the edge of the universe and tell him to rot there for a thousand years? Clearly, it is too risky to be an extremist since we have no idea on earth about who is the No. 1 God?

In the afterlife, will we be able to see the greats of the earth like Nelson Mandela, Mother Teresa or Edmund Hilary? And what about the monsters like Joseph Stalin, Pol Pot and Adolf Hitler? What are their fates? How are the Gods treating them? Are they in the universe's version of hell? And what about their victims? Will the Gods allow them to shower abuse on these blood-thirsty dictators, to make up for their sufferings on earth? And whose families are still weathering the repercussions of their brutal deaths?

There are so many questions, but too few answers. Nobody knows anything. It seems it is safer to be simple, humble, and respect all Gods, religions and followers. That is probably what the Gods want. But then, really, who knows what the Gods want?

(The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

Wilhelm Bronner of Germany holds a joint exhibition, 'East Meets West', with Malayali artist AM Victoria

Photo by Mithun Vinod

By Shevlin Sebastian

In November, 2012, German artist Wilhelm Bronner had held an exhibition at Fort Kochi. Following the conclusion, he had several wooden frames which he wanted to give away before flying back. That was how he met local painter AM Victoria. They became friends and decided to hold an exhibition together. This was called 'East Meets West', and it took place recently at Kochi's Durbar Hall Art Gallery.

Wilhelm's striking work, an acrylic on canvas, is a microcosm of life on the streets of over-crowded cities like Mumbai, Kolkata, Chennai and Delhi. So there are car drivers dodging cyclists and vegetable vendors with their wooden carts filled with produce. Cows and dogs are wandering about, people in doorways are shouting and talking to each other, a man is sitting on a chair and reading the newspaper, while a woman walks carefully while carrying a basket on her head. High above, aeroplanes are flying across the sky.

“I wanted to show the variety of life in an Indian city,” says Wilhelm. “It is also clear that the country is grappling with the problems caused by over-population.”

Wilhelm's other notable work is a series of small wooden blocks which have been painted in grey acrylic paint. On each block, at the left side are small drawings, like squiggles, of life in India and on the right, the same event is taking place in Germany.

So a man is shown defecating into a pond in India, while in Germany, they use the toilet. Another work is called 'Conflict Management'. It shows a group of Indians just nodding their heads, while there is verbal anger displayed by the Germans. “Indians tend to avoid conflict,” says Wilhelm. “They will not say anything direct. In Germany, they tell it straight. Sometimes, it is a form of aggression.”

Wilhelm, who has been to India several times, says that both countries can learn from each other. “The Germans can learn about touching, caring and living through the heart from the Indians,” he says. “On the other hand, Indians can understand about organisation, punctuality and hygiene.”

It pains Wilhelm that India is so uncared for. “The people treat nature as a dumping place,” he says. “Why is garbage thrown on the streets, fields and rivers? It makes me feel sad.”
Victoria is also saddened by the state of Kerala. In one acrylic on canvas, she has drawn several women, as well as men, carrying brown pitchers on their heads. At the side, there is a tap from which a single drop of water is falling into a pitcher which has the face of a forlorn woman.

“There is a shortage of water all over the state,” she says. “All the wells have gone. We had so many ponds. In fact, the pond where I use to bathe in when I was a child, has vanished. Instead, I was astonished to discover, on a recent visit, that it has become a garbage dumping area.”

Another work is of two girls sitting on a patch of grass beside a jasmine tree. They are wearing the typical Malayali attire of paavada and blouse, with long plaited hair, and kaajal-rimmed eyes. It is a soothing image, but Victoria is worried about their future. “When the girls get married what sort of a life is it going to be?” says Victoria. “Will they get good husbands? Will they look after their wives properly? Will the girls be happy?”

(The New Indian Express, Sunday Standard Magazine, New Delhi, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Ravi Shankar's 'Book Of Shiva' is a book of the times. The more technology invades our lives, the more dehumanised we are going to feel. And there will come a time when we will go on a desperate search to revive our inner spirituality so that we can feel alive again. In his novel, the main character Asananda is also in search of his inner spirituality. But it is shown outwardly as a search for the Book of Shiva. And as Asananda travels through the holy places of Benaras, Hardwar, Rishikesh and Badrinath, among other places in the Himalayas, he meets all types of people, many of whom have been wounded by life. They in turn tell their stories. So, in essence, this is a novel that abounds with stories within stories.

And Ravi's writing is rich and vivid in its description of people and places. This in-born gift comes as no surprise, since he is the nephew of OV Vijayan, one of Malayalam literature's great writers.

Here are a few insightful sentences:

'If you imagine the universe as a book, age is a paragraph'

'A great teacher is one who teaches nothing and the pupil understands everything.'

'Journeys without hope take you nowhere.'

'You get enlightened by forgetting everything.'

'Some memories are little miracles that light the way on dark and rainy nights.'

'The cremation ground is the only place where all egos end.'

And his descriptions are equally vivid:

A ruby 'looked like a translucent spider, its belly filled with blood'.

'The sun had spent the day and the spreading fog was drawing its mystery over the garden and the hillside.'

'The opera of prayers from ashrams and temples'

What is remarkable is that apart from his writing skills – he is the author of three previous novels – the New-Delhi based Ravi is also a witty and satirical cartoonist of the New Indian Express, of which he is the Executive Editor. And he oversees the highly popular and readable Sunday magazine.

So clearly, Ravi is a man of many parts, who is able to balance beautifully the temporal and the spiritual.

(Ravi's book is available http://www.amazon.com/THE-BOOK-SHIVA-Ravi-Shankar-ebook/dp/B00JPKNEO0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1399568939&sr=8-1&keywords=shiva%2C+ravi+shankar.

(Review posted on www.amazon.com)

A riveting two-hour performance, 'Pancham...the Immortal Note', highlighted the life and career of Rahul Dev Burman, the legendary Bollywood music composer

By Shevlin Sebastian

In 1993, when director Vidhu Vinod Chopra was thinking about getting a music composer for his film, '1942 – A Love Story', he thought of Rahul Dev Burman (nickname: Pancham – the fifth musical note). At that time, Pancham had been in the wilderness for eight years. From the mid 1980s, he had 27 flops in a row. And he was short of confidence. He did not know why the people had rejected him. And it was then that Vidhu approached Pancham out of the blue. He told the film's story and after a week, he went to listen to the tunes.

Pancham began singing a song in the style of the mid 1980s, with a tabla providing the music. Then Pancham stopped and said, “What is your first reaction?”

A disappointed Vidhu said, “You are the finest music director alive today and is this what you are giving me?”

One by one the other musicians left the room. There was only Pancham and Vidhu in the room.

In the sudden silence, Pancham said, “Am I doing the film or not?”

Clearly, this was the lowest point of the legendary Bollywood composer's life.

Vidhu said, “Dada, don't give me this emotion. Give me the music I am seeking from you. And, of course, you are doing the film. You are the best.”

And, eventually, Pancham lived up to Vidhu's confidence. The songs of '1942 – A Love Story' were chart busters and are now regarded as classics. But unfortunately, Pancham was not there to enjoy his redemption. A few weeks before the audio release, Pancham died of a heart attack on January 4, 1994, aged 54.

This interview with Vidhu was shown during a riveting two-hour production, called 'Pancham...the immortal Note', which was staged by the Pune-based Niche Entertainment at the JT Pac, Kochi. It traced the life of the composer from his childhood days till the end.

“Pancham spent his childhood in Kolkata under the care of his maternal grandmother,” said Milind Oak, the director and anchor of the show. “At that time, his father Sachin Dev Burman was making his mark in Mumbai as a music composer.”

When the boy had grown up a bit, he would go to Mumbai during the summer vacations and stay with his father. Once playback singer Asha Bhonsle was introduced to a thin fellow. “Pancham has come for his school holidays to Mumbai,” Sachin Dev told Asha. A few months later, Asha again saw Pancham.

So Asha asked Sachin, “Are there more holidays now?”

Sachin Dev said, “He has failed.” And Pancham stayed on and became an assistant to his father and worked on many films.

Later, he began composing on his own. But it was his fifth (Pancham) film, 'Teesri Manzil' (1966), directed by Nasir Hussain which was a hit. He never looked back. Hit after hit followed. And it was a pleasure to hear the songs – from films like 'Kora Kagaz', 'Kati Patang', 'Amar Prem' and 'Aradhana'– sung with felicity and verve by singers Hrishikesh Ranade, Jitendra Abhyankar, Rama Kulkarni and Priyanka Barve.

Sometimes, there were dances, done ably by Kunal Phadke and team. And every now and then, there would be video interviews with luminaries like Gulzar, Usha Uthup, Shiv Kumar Sharma, Shankar Mahadevan, Rishi Kapoor, Javed Akhtar Shammi Kapoor and Laxmikant Pyarelal.

And all had praise for Pancham “I have seen 'Padosan' more than 100 times,” says Pyarelal. “But even today if it is shown on any TV channel, I stop all my work and keep looking at the film and listen to the songs, because nobody, other than Pancham, could make music like this.”

Not many people know that Pancham had a hugely talented orchestra to back him up. They included stars like Louis Banks on the synthesizer and piano, Hari Prasad Chaurasia on the flute, Sultan Khan on the sarangi, and, occasionally, Shiv Kumar Sharma on the santoor.

“One reason they worked for him was because he was simple, humble and caring,” says Milind Oak. In fact, when Ranjeet Gazmer, one of Nepal's leading composers, who was nicknamed Kancha bhai by Pancham, had a slipped disc and was bedridden for six months, the latter visited his house every day with food and medicines. Incidentally, Kancha Bhai played the madal (a Nepalese hand drum).

Pancham's career went on and on. In the end, he scored the music for 331 films. These included 292 (Hindi) 31 (Bengali) and the rest in Telugu, Tamil, Oriya, and Marathi.

What was a revelation was that during the Durga Puja celebrations in West Bengal, Pancham regularly brought out Bengali albums, in which he himself sang, that were hugely popular.

In his personal life, Pancham was briefly married to Rita Patel, a fan who had met him in Darjeeling. They split up and Pancham's unforgettable 'Musafir Hoon Yaaron' (Parichay), was composed by him, when he was staying at a hotel following the separation. Later, Pancham married Asha, who was six years older, in 1980, but the relationship went through troubled times.

In the end, Pancham's life and career were unforgettable and so was the stage show by Niche Entertainment.

(Published in The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Dancer Shoma Kaikini, along with her troupe, 'Nrityanidhi', combines Sufi with Kathak movements to uplift an audience

By Shevlin Sebastian

When dancer Shoma Kaikini went to Nanning, China, to perform in the International Folk Song Art Festival, a few years ago, she felt arrogant. “Our culture was thousands of years old,” she says. “I felt we are the best.” But there were participants from 36 countries including Vietnam, Yugoslavia, Australia, Indonesia, France, Denmark and Argentina. “When I saw the performances of the other countries, I fell flat on my face,” she says. “That was when I realised that the world is filled with so much of art and culture.”

Nevertheless, her Mumbai-based troupe, 'Nrityanidhi', did impress. On the last day, when they stepped out on the stage, the participants of all the countries stood in the wings to watch them perform. “This happened only to us,” says Shoma. And their performance received the maximum applause.

One of the reasons was because of the colourful costumes. “The people loved the jewellery, make-up and hair,” she says. “The audience, which was mostly Chinese, would indicate, through sign language, that they loved our performance. There were tears in their eyes. It was one of the most memorable experiences of my life.”

The Nrityanidhi troupe plays a mix of Sufi, Bharatanatyam and Kathak dances, accompanied by soft, meditative and soulful songs.

“When I listen to a song, I allow the movement to flow into the dance,” says Shoma, who is the troupe's choreographer. “I tell the dancers that choreography and dance are something that flows from the spirit.”

Shoma and her troupe had recently come to Kochi to give a performance called 'Asmi' ('I am' in Sanskrit) – A Voyage Towards The Self', in which they did dances with a mix of Sufi and Kathak.

“The core of Sufism is a never-ending search of the truth, of divine energy,” says Shoma. “In Sufism, you experience a total surrender to God.”

But they danced to songs from contemporary films like 'Maula Mere' from the film, 'Anwar' and 'Iktara' from 'Wake up Sid'. And it turned out to be soulful and tranquility-inducing: the gentle movements of the arms, taking a few steps forward, then back, the pirouetting with other partners, and the playful looks on the faces.

“People are under so much stress and strain that our performance gives some kind of peace to them,” says Shoma. Recently, when they performed at Bangalore, a woman came up to Shoma, and said, “It felt like as if your soul had come out of the body, and was travelling among the audience. That was the kind of energy we felt.”

At Kochi, audience member Dr. Puneet Dhar says, “It was a reinvention of Kathak. I have always watched Kathak dances along with live music. This was the first time recorded music was used, but since the acoustics was superb, nothing was missed. I also enjoyed the unusual combination of Sufi and Kathak. The secular mix was heart-warming.”

To have this kind of impact has taken Shoma years of training. She learnt dance from the time she was four years old, thanks to the prodding from her mother. Initially, she learnt Kathak, then Bharatnatyam, and then she returned to Kathak by the time she was 17. For a few years, she performed with her guru Nandita Puri, a Kathak exponent. It was in 2005 that she began Nrityanidhi. “It had been my dream to start something on my own,” she says. This has turned out to be the right move, as 'Nrityanidhi' continues to impact audiences all over.

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

Government official KV Mohankumar moonlights as a novelist, script-writer, and actor

Photo by Mithun Vinod

By Shevlin Sebastian

At 3 a.m., on December 8, 2012, the then Collector of Kozhikode KV Mohankumar, along with a team of policemen and revenue officials, stood under a canopy of trees by the side of a road in the town of Feroke. Mohankumar had received a tip that sand, mined illegally from rivers, was being taken away in tipper lorries.

Soon, a tipper lorry was seen in the distance. Mohankumar, along with two officials, stepped on the road and gestured for it to stop. In response, the driver pressed the accelerator. Immediately, Mohankumar and the squad got into an Innova car and gave chase.

The lorry driver sped ahead for a while, then turned suddenly into a bylane and braked. Thanks to the quick thinking of the Innova driver, he braked equally hard. All at once, the bed of the truck rose up and sand was deposited on the road. “We were lucky,” says Mohankumar. “Since we were a bit behind, the sand did not fall on the car and cause injury to us. That was the aim of the driver.” Thanks to the barricade caused by the sand, the lorry driver was able to flee easily.

This was one of Mohankumar's experiences during his day job. But, at night, he takes on another avatar. From 10 p.m. to 4 a.m., he is a writer. So far, he has published 14 books, a mix of autobiographical sketches, short-story collections and novels.

The themes of his novels include political satire, social drama, Tantric Buddhism, and the Punnapra Vayalar Communist uprising in Travancore, in October, 1946.

However, the bureaucrat’s life took an interesting turn when Sivan, the father of director Santosh Sivan, asked Mohankumar to write a script based on a short story by Malayalam writer N. Mohanan.

“It was about a deaf and dumb child,” says Mohankumar, who is now Commissioner for Rural Development. To know about script-writing, Mohankumar studied the scripts of Jnanpith Award winner MT Vasudevan Nair and acclaimed directors like Adoor Gopalakrishnan and Padmarajan.

Mohankumar's script, which took one month to write, became ‘Keshu’, a children’s film, directed by Sivan. This won the Kerala state as well as National award in 2009 for the best children's film. It was also selected for the Indian Panorama section at the International Film Festival in Goa.

Asked the difference between writing novels and scripts, Mohankumar says, “In novel writing, there is a lot of freedom and you have to cater to one reader. But when we write a script, we have to visualise the scenes from the point of view of a mass audience.”

Sometime ago, the noted Mollywood director VK Prakash called and said he wanted to make a film of Mohankumar's first novel, 'Shradha Shesham,’(Beyond salvation). So Mohankumar wrote the script. Just recently the shooting was completed. The film stars Narain and Meera Jasmine.

And, amazingly, the versatile Mohankumar also acted in the film as Meera Jasmine's father. “I love being an actor,” he says. One reason is that acting runs in the family. Mohankumar’s father, K. Velayudhan Pillai, had been an actor in the troupe of famed actor Sebastian Kunjukunnu Bhagavathar.

Meanwhile, Mohankumar has been amazed by the changes in Mollywood. “It has been taken over by the youngsters,” he says. “Earlier, one or two people would enter the industry once in a while. Now there are hundreds of new actors and technicians. It is highly competitive now, but I regard it as a positive change.”

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

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Achamma Alex talks about her life with the former State Transport Minister Mathew T Thomas

By Shevlin Sebastian

Mr. and Mrs. T. Simon, the uncle and aunt of former State Transport Minister Mathew T Thomas, were looking for a bride from the teaching field for their nephew. They felt that since Mathew was a career politician, he will hardly get time to look after the family. So, if the wife is a teacher, she will have more time and lots of holidays.

When the word spread about this proposal, Annie Abraham and Lily Titus, teachers in the Christian College, at Chengannur, told their colleague, Achamma Alex.

But Achamma had four conditions that needed to be fulfilled before she could get married. “My husband has to be a teetotaller, a believer in God, a man who is not corrupt and will not bargain for dowry,” she says.

And when Achamma met Mathew, at a relative's house, at Kumbanad, in June, 1988, she realised that he fulfilled all the four conditions. “As we talked, I felt that we had similar temperaments and would be able to get along,” says Achamma.

She was about to say yes, when her father, VJ Alexander, a member of the Janata Party, told her that being a wife of a politician required a lot of sacrifices on the personal front. “He said that I should think hard about it,” says Achamma. However, after much reflection, she eventually said yes.

The marriage took place on September 10, 1988, at the St. Thomas Mar Thoma Church at Tiruvalla. “There was a huge crowd, so we could only give one piece of cake and a cup of tea,” says Achamma.

Many eminent politicians came to the wedding including Baby John, KM Mani and the then chief minister EK Nayanar. “Nayanar Sir told me I should always be by the side of my husband,” says Achamma.

Which she has done for the past 25 years. But it took some time for Achamma to adjust to life as a politician's spouse. “When we got married, the first thing Mathew told me was that I should never wear gaudy sarees,” says Achamma. “He said that he is representing the people [Mathew is a three-time MLA of Tiruvalla] and had to be careful in the way I dressed.”

In the early years, they travelled on a LML Vespa scooter. “When I would get on, Mathew would tell me that I should never hold on to him, since people were watching us all the time,” says Achamma. “In a way we lost our freedom of expression.”

But the media did not lose their freedom of expression. Asked whether she would get upset if her husband was attacked in newspapers or TV channels, Achamma says, “Firstly, I know it is just a game. Secondly, I am confident about Mathew's upright character. We hear a lot of scandals about a lot of politicians, but you will never hear anything about my husband. There is nothing in our home that belongs to other people. It has all been bought with our hard-earned money."

Achamma believes that a politician and a teacher should never have moral lapses. "Because people look up to them," she says. "If you have vices, then I don't think you are the right person to become a leader.”

But Mathew, the State President of the Janatha Dal, seems to be the right leader. He has an unblemished reputation, and spends long hours at work.

Achamma confirms that Mathew is not a domestic-oriented person. “In fact, he is a servant of the people of Tiruvalla,” she says. “And so are we.”

This devotion to society is rare. “I know of many public servants who give more importance to their families,” says Achamma. “Some of them take leave for one or two months to help their children prepare for their class 10 and Plus Two exams.”

However, whenever he gets the opportunity, Mathew does spend time with Achamma and their two daughters, Achu Anna, who is doing her B. Ed., and Ammu Thankam, a Class 12 student. They go for films or take a stroll through the town. Incidentally, Mathew's parents also live with them.

Because of Mathew's focus on serving the people, the responsibility of running the household has fallen squarely on Achamma's shoulders. “When the children fell ill, when they were younger, I had to take them to the hospital,” she says. “And I have to be the hands-on parent to them. There have been moments when I felt a bit panicky. So I would pray to God to give me strength, wisdom and the ability to tackle the issues at home.”

And also at work. Presently, Achamma is the principal of the Christian College at Chengannur. And every now and then she gives advice to her students regarding life and marriage.

“I always tell them that marriage is not a child's game,” says Achamma. “In fact, it is a serious affair. And they should never expect everything to be green and red. Sometimes, it can be grey and black. What I am trying to tell them is that they should expect wonderful as well as worse things. If they realise this, they will be able to start a marriage on the right foot. Secondly, they should always pray to God. He is the only one who will be able to guide them when times are bad.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

After a successful corporate career, Suresh Joseph has travelled solo numerous times, by car, all over India, setting records and now he is headed towards Europe

Photo by Mithun Vinod

By Shevlin Sebastian

One evening, in November, 2010, Suresh Joseph arrived at the border town of North East Khawdungsei, which is the link between Manipur and Mizoram. He had no place to stay. Being a border town there were no hotels. But soon he spotted a church. Just near it was a house which had the sign, 'Pastor Quarters'.

In front of the house, there were three men working in the yard. As a woman served them tea, Suresh asked her whether he could speak to the pastor.

Suddenly, one of the labourers stood up and said, 'I am the pastor'.

Rev. R Lalsiamliana was wearing a torn banian and a pair of shorts. Suresh asked whether he could spend the night in the church. Immediately, Lalsiamliana invited Suresh to stay with him.

"He never asked me who I was," says Suresh. "Later, I had dinner with him, his wife and child. I cannot imagine anyone in a big city doing something like this.”

Suresh had embarked on an all-India trip in a Swift car and was able to touch 28 state capitals and 17 Railway headquarters. The reason for the railway link was because Suresh had been a former Chief Commercial Manager of South Western Railways. Later, he was the CEO of Dubai Ports World, which set up the International Container Transhipment Terminal at Vallarpadam, Kochi.

The journey lasted four months and covered 23,500 kms. In the end, Suresh wrote a book called, ''Ek Swift Bharat Yatra: The Journal of a Railwayman's Journey Through India.' And the trip was an eye-opener for him.

"When you go to a new environment, and meet and stay with people, you become much more tolerant,” says Suresh. “It makes you a humble person."

There were other benefits too. "Since I was travelling alone, I had the chance to introspect about my life, and ponder about the people I had interacted with, over the years. I also had the opportunity to thank God for the tremendous blessings that I received.”

Thereafter, Suresh did several trips, which enabled him to set eight national solo records in the Limca Book of Records. He was the first and the fastest to drive a four-wheeler from Leh to Kanyakumari and back again (7659 kms), the first to complete an expedition from Koteshwar, Gujarat to Bakkhali, West Bengal (6996 kms), and the first to travel from Tezu, Arunachal Pradesh to Koteshwar (3799 kms).

To ensure that he has a successful drive, Suresh follows certain rules. "A driver has to respect the road," he says. "If you drive at breakneck speeds on bad roads, you will end up with accidents or having problems with your vehicle."

Interestingly, Suresh has a symbiotic relationship with the car. "My car is a living being," he says. "I talk to it, like I would, to a partner. I believe that my car has a soul. I have challenged it and it has always come good."

The people have been good, too. “Indians have a great heart," says Suresh. "They don't even want to know who you are before they offer hospitality. Secondly, despite the tremendous diversity, from Jammu and Kashmir, to Goa, to Tamil Nadu and the north-east, the people have a tremendous resilience and fighting spirit. They will do anything to ensure that their family is safe and comfortable.”

Suresh's next road trip, on June 16, is a 75-day 24,000 km journey from Kochi to London, through 27 countries, which includes nations like Nepal, China, Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, Russia, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Czech Republic, Germany, Belgium, France, Ireland and UK.

Suresh will be accompanied by noted Mollywood film director Lal Jose and journalist Baiju Nair. “The trip is expected to cost Rs 75 lakhs, but, thankfully, we have got some good sponsors,” says Suresh.

Asked about his insatiable thirst for travel, Suresh says, "There is a Ulysses in all of us. Unlike most middle-class people, I have been able to satisfy my wanderlust."

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

Photographer Dayanita Singh takes images that are original and thought-provoking

Photo by Melton Antony

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Dayanita Singh was a student at the National Institute of Design in Ahmedabad, in 1981, she was given an assignment to take photos, showing the different moods of a person. At that time, tabla maestro Zakir Hussain was performing in the city. So she decided to take photos of Zakir.

But when Dayanita went to the hall, the organisers refused to allow her to take photos. So, she waited outside. When Zakir came out, following the show, Dayanita approached him and said, “Mr. Hussain, I am a young student. Some day I might be an important photographer. Then we will see.”

Zakir burst out laughing. Then he explained why she had not been allowed to take pictures. “First of all, you need to take permission,” he said. “Secondly, Pandit Ravi Shankar had added a fret to his sitar, so that he could do some experimenting. So he did not want any photographs to be taken.” Zakir told Dayanita that she could come the next morning when he was having a rehearsal.

Thereafter, for the next six years, during the winter, Dayanita took photos of Zakir. And imbibed wisdom from the maestro. “Zakir talked to me about the need to focus,” says Dayanita. “That means, if you decide to do something, you have to give 100 per cent. If you cannot dedicate 18 hours a day, don't do it.” It was during this period that Dayanita decided to become a photographer.

But her decision came as no surprise because her mother, Nony Singh, was an avid photographer. In fact, Dayanita remembers a photo that her mother took of her when she was only six months old. “I was lying on a chaise lounge in the Presidential Suite of the Oberoi Hotel at Srinagar,” she says.

When Dayanita's father, Mahenderpal, wanted to celebrate her birth, Nony said she wanted to stay in a luxury hotel. “You never went to a hotel in those days,” says Dayanita. But once there, Nony was keen to show proof to her friends that she had actually been inside the hotel. “That is why she took my photo,” says Dayanita.

And her mother's passion has been passed on to Dayanita. Today, Dayanita is regarded as one of the best photographers in India. She had come to Kochi to check out the sites of the upcoming Biennale (December, 2014) so that she could provide a work for it.

“Fort Kochi is a great venue for a biennale,” she says. “There is so much of history. In Delhi and Mumbai, you would spend so much time commuting. But in Kochi, you can float from one exhibit to the other. The special thing about the Kochi biennale, is that it is artist-run, while the others are mostly run by corporates.”

Sitting on a chair on the lawn of a Fort Kochi hotel, on a sunny morning, Dayanita comes across as charming, witty and sharp. And she has a touch of the old-fashioned about her when you see the camera hanging around her neck.

It is a Haselblad 503. “It is the same model which [astronaut] Neil Armstrong took to the moon in 1969,” says Dayanita. “Haselblad is the king of the cameras. On the road, people come up just to look at it. It has a film roll which only has 12 shots. So I have to be careful about what I shoot.”

Asked why she has remained with an analog camera, when the world has gone digital, Dayanita says, “It slows me down. Photography is a language. It does not depend on what equipment you use. In the end, what only matters is what you do with that language.”

Dayanita has done a lot of things with this language. At this moment, her obsession is paper files. “I never set out to photograph files, but had been to paper factories, libraries, courts, municipal offices, state archives and factory record rooms,” she says.

So when noted author and friend, Sunil Khilnani, came to Delhi to have a look at Dayanita's work, she put out 200 prints on a table for him to see. “Sunil pulled out a few pictures and said, 'File room',” says Dayanita. “He asked me to do more and promised help on a book.”

Later, an exhibition of these photos, 'Monuments of Knowledge', was held during the opening of the India Institute at King's College in London. And a 88-page book, called 'File Room' has also been brought out.

Some of the other subjects that Dayanita has tackled include the many moods of her transvestite friend, Mona Ahmed, an ashram in Benaras, upper-class family portraits, chairs, industrial spaces and the night.

Interestingly, Dayanita says that photography does not reveal any truths. “Photography is nothing more than a portrait of the time I have spent with a subject and my response to it,” she says. “A photograph is successful if it has evoked something more than what is visible in the frame.”

And because she has been good at evoking something more, her work has been exhibited in places like London, Rome, Madrid, Brussels, Milan, Zurich, Bogota, Berlin and Boston. She is the first Indian to have a solo show at the Hayward Gallery in London. And, in 2012, she represented Germany in the Venice Biennale. “That is because the Germans wanted to show that art is universal,” says Dayanita. Among the awards she has won are the Claus Award in 2008 from the Dutch government for 'artistic and intellectual quality', as well as the Chevalier des Arts et Lettres from the French government in 2014.

Interestingly, Dayanita is a soloist. “I am a soloist not only in my relationships, but also in thought and practice,” she says. “That's because I love solitude.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Not Throwing Anything Away

Frame by Frame

The Artist in Society

An Exciting Enigma

The Movement of People Throughout History

Chasing a Dream

An Unique Talent

Yoga and Corporate Interests

A Ring-Side View

Love At First Sight

How to Talk Well In Public

Thoughts on the Aterlife

Two dimensions of India

'A Book of The Times'

The Unforgettable Pancham

Touching the Soul

A Bureaucrat's Many Avatars

A Steadfast Presence

The Indian Ulysses

A Unique Take on Life