shevlin's world

'Shah Rukh Khan was a dynamic boy'

2012-02-01T12:43:00.000+05:30

Kochiite Annie George recalls her memories of teaching the Hindi film superstar as a teacher in St. Columba's school at New Delhi

Photos: Shah Rukh Khan; Annie George

By Shevlin Sebastian

On a winter day in 1975, Shah Rukh Khan placed a basket on Annie George's table in St. Columba's school at New Delhi. It contained a German Spitz puppy. “Their family dog had given a litter,” says Annie, 82, at her Kochi home. “So Shah Rukh gave me one, because I was the class teacher.” He also gave two puppies to Mrs. Vanderholt, the elocution teacher, because she had many dogs at home.

During a break in classes, Annie went outside the school and brought a packet of milk from the Gol Market. “The puppies were hungry and I fed them some milk,” she says. When Annie took the puppy home, her daughter Shirley was the most excited. “She loved dogs,” says Annie. Eventually, the puppy, named Nunu, remained with them for 13 long years.

“Shah Rukh was a good student,” says Annie. “He would always be in the top ten. He was a well-behaved boy, who also excelled in sports like cricket, football and swimming. But he seemed like a leader. The boys would crowd around him and say, 'Shah Rukh, Shah Rukh'.”

What Annie liked most about Shah Rukh was the way he respected all the teachers. “He was also friendly with all the students,” she says. “Shah Rukh was dynamic. I could see that he had a lot of energy.”

Shah Rukh was interested in dramatics from a young age. “Brother Eric D'Souza, the vice-principal, seeing that he had talent, encouraged him a lot,” she says. Shah Rukh would take part in one-act plays, and, in fact, did a solo act in a play called 'Wiz'. Many years later, he would publicly hug Brother D'Souza and thank him for his encouragement.

When asked whether she felt that Shah Rukh would become a great actor, Annie shook her head. “But I remember one student came up to me one day, and said, 'Miss Annie, Shah Rukh wants to be an actor.'”

At the parent-teacher meetings, Shah Rukh's parents would be in attendance. “His father, Taj Mohammed Khan, was a man of few words,” she says. “I could see that Shah Rukh was a little afraid of him. On the other hand, his mother, Lateef Fatima, was very soft. She was a magistrate. I heard that while his father died of brain cancer, in 1981, his mother died in an accident a few years later.” In 1989, he went to Mumbai to become an actor.

Meanwhile, Shah Rukh Khan's high point in his school career was when he was awarded the Sword of Honour when he was in Class 12 for being the best all-round student.

Annie says that she did not have any contact with him once he left school. “But I remember seeing him once when he came to meet a teacher, Seetha Venkateshwaran, who was interested in dramatics,” says Annie. “He had become slim and angular.” At that time, Shah Rukh was doing his Economic Honours at Hansraj College.

Annie also did see the television serial, 'Fauji' in 1988, in which Shah Rukh played the hero, Lt. Abhimanyu Rai, and became an overnight celebrity. “I knew that he would become a big star just by seeing him in this serial,” says Annie. “There were others who felt the same.”

Today, Annie, a widow, lives alone in Kochi, after a fulfilling 33 years as a teacher in St. Columba's. And a few days ago, her Bangalore-based daughter Shirley called her up and asked her to see the telecast of the Asianet Film Awards show at Dubai . She quickly switched on the television set and saw her former student dancing brilliantly, as usual, with all the Mollywood stars. “I felt so proud to see him,” she says, with a wide smile.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

“He is an instant story-maker”

2012-01-31T14:27:00.000+05:30

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Parvathy talks about life with Jayaram, one of the most popular actors in Mollywood

By Shevlin Sebastian

When actor Jayaram saw Parvathy for the first time during the shooting of his first film, ‘Aparan’, at Udaya Studio in Thiruvananthapuram, in 1988, he stood up in respect. Parvathy was the senior artiste. She was accompanied by the veteran actress Sukumari.

Parvathy said, “It's okay, please sit down.” They began talking. Parvathy told Jayaram that she had already seen a mimicry cassette of his, brought out by the Kalabhavan. “I liked his acting but he was also handsome,” she says.

It was during the shooting of ‘Puthiya Karukkal’ in Thekkady in 1989, that things got serious. “We went to sing Christmas carols in the neighbouring houses for fun,” says Parvathy. “[Actress] Sithara and I wore the Christmas father's costume.”

An excited Jayaram jumped on top of the mobile van and started dancing. “I said if you fall I would have to look after you and I don't have the time for that,” says Parvathy. “However, soon, we expressed our feelings for each other.”

And despite an initial family opposition, they got married on September 7, 1992, at Guruvayur temple. So what sort of a husband is Jayaram?

“He is frank, transparent, and a family man,” says Parvathy. “For any trip, be it domestic or foreign, he will always want the family to come along. And if for some reason we are not able to go, he will cancel his trip.”

When Jayaram goes home, to Chennai, he will insist that the children – Kalidasan, 18, who is studying for a degree in visual communication at Loyola College, and daughter, Malavika, 15, who is in Class 10 at Padma Seshadri Bala Bhavan school -- take leave, so that he can spend time with them.

“I am against this, but I realize he comes home so rarely that I allow it,” she says. “He takes good care of the children and me.” This is evident from the fact that Jayaram calls Parvathy a minimum of 30 times a day. “Usually when husbands go to work, they rarely call their wives, but Jayaram is an exception,” says Parvathy. “Any decision he has to make, he always calls me, to get advice.”

As for his negative traits, Parvathy says, “Jayaram always finds it difficult to say no. At times, this does affect his career.”

Sometimes, during shoots, if something happens which disrupts the work, he can get irritated. “For example, if somebody is late for a shoot,” says Parvathy. “However, most of the time, he is a jovial and fun-loving person who cracks a lot of jokes. His co-actors say that they laugh so much because of his wit and charm. You will never get bored when you are with Jayaram. He will come up with new wisecracks all the time. He is an instant story-maker. At home, I am the butt of all his jokes.”

But Jayaram is rarely at home. Except for the month of May, which is when he takes his annual vacation, so that he can spend time with the children, he is constantly shooting for one film or the other. “Jayaram might come home for one or two days,” says Parvathy. “Sometimes, it is for ten days, if a shooting is cancelled, but that is rare.”

So Parvathy is used to spending a lot of time on her own. “I handle all the responsibilities, like running the house, raising the children, and looking after the finances,” she says. “When I was younger, I would feel a bit of pressure. But now I enjoy the superwoman role. When I solve problems, I feel a sense of fulfillment.”

Of course, after her marriage, Parvathy has stopped acting, but says she has no regrets. “One spouse has to sacrifice their career, otherwise, it will be difficult to bring up the children properly,” she says. “If there is a good salary earned by the husband why should the wife work?”

Meanwhile, the one quality that the family has learned from Jayaram is how to interact with strangers. “I am an introvert and tend to keep aloof from people,” says Parvathy. “But it is only after my marriage that I have learnt to interact more. And so do my children. Jayaram's love for people is his best quality.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Living under a cinematic giant

2012-01-31T09:51:00.000+05:30

Dulquer Salmaan, the son of superstar Mammootty, talks about the impact of his father. His debut film, ‘Second Show’, premieres on February 3

By Shevlin Sebastian

Dulquer Salmaan always remembers the transition that used to come over his father, superstar Mammootty in public. “We could be going for a wedding reception,” he says. ‘In the car, our family [including mother Sulfath, and sister Surumi] are normal, regular people having a conversation.”

But once they reach the venue, something would come over Mammootty. “He would become this star radiating charisma,” says Dulquer. “You could not see the change. You would just feel it. From a very young age, I have noticed that whenever my father walks into a room, all eyes are on him.”

Dulquer says the charisma must have come from the stellar career of Mammootty, spread over 30 years. “You command that respect,” says Dulquer. “Here is someone who has found his passion and calling in life. Whereas, the rest of us are still trying to figure out who we are, and what we are good at.”

Yes, Dulquer was not sure whether he wanted to follow in his father’s formidable footsteps. So, he did a four-year course in business management from Purdue University in Indiana, USA. Then he worked in American companies, before moving to Dubai where he spent two years, doing a business in Information Technology.

But in 2009, the urge arose in him to be an actor. “There was a void within me,” he says. “When you are young, you want to make money, buy all the things you want, but at some point, you realise that having all these objects is not enough to make you happy.”

So, Dulquer stepped away from the business, and hired a CEO to look after it. In June, 2009, he went to Mumbai and did a three-month course with the Barry John Acting Studio. Dulquer returned, and selected ‘Second Show’, which has a debutant in the director Srinath Rajendran, as well as young crew members.

Both hero and director are tight-lipped about what the film is all about, except to repeat the tag line: 'Life has a second chance'. Interestingly, Mammootty has offered no tips on acting to Dulquer. But once when Dulquer was shooting a big scene in 'Second Show' that was worrying him, he called up Mammootty.

“My father told me, ‘Some are better than you, but you are better than most’,” says Dulquer. “‘Just tell yourself that. That will help you go through the scene. That is what I always tell myself.’ Thanks to this timely advice, I was able to act well in that particular scene.”

'Second Show', in which Dulquer is paired with newcomer Gautami Nair, is produced by AOPL Entertainment Pvt. Ltd., and premieres on February 3.

(The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

“Art is a passion for me”

2012-01-31T08:28:00.000+05:30

Artiste Bindhi Rajagopal has started a gallery on her own and it has now established its reputation in Kochi

By Shevlin Sebastian

On a recent Friday evening, the atmosphere at Bindhi Rajagopal's art gallery in Kochi is homely. There are youngsters running around in the garden. Two are Bindhi's own children, Sowparnika, 12, and Malavika, 10. After a while, her cousin, the actress Poornima drops in, with her two children. And while the two women are having an intense chit-chat, visitors make their way silently to the first-floor gallery to view 'Root', an exhibition by students – AR Anagha, Ashil Anthony, Ebby Eddasery, Mona S Mohan and P Ramesh - of the RLV College of Music and Fine Arts.

The space for the gallery had been willed to Bindhi by her late father, P.R. Chandran, while her mother, Shoba Rani, stays on the ground floor. Asked why she opened one, Bindhi says, “There is not enough space in Kochi for artistes to display their works. We have only four reputed galleries: Durbar Hall, Kashi, David Hall and Chaitanya, and they are always booked. Most of the time, the gallerists select artistes who have reached a certain standard. There are no opportunities for beginners. That is one of the main reasons why I decided to open a gallery.”

In fact, because of this pressure for space, Bindhi held her first solo exhibition in 2006, ten years after she graduated from RLV College. “That was how difficult it was for me,” she says. But when she initially proposed the idea, her parents and businessman-husband, K.R. Rajagopal, were not very supportive. “My father and mother wondered whether people would drop in, because the gallery is in a residential area,” she says. “My husband was worried about the expenses.”

So Bindhi decided to withdraw her entire provident fund – she works as an art teacher in the Gregorian school – and used it to set up the gallery. It was inaugurated on December 8, 2010. And in these 13 months, she has held 13 shows. If it is a curated show, she gets a 30 per cent commission if a painting is sold. Otherwise, she gives it out on a daily rent.

“I am just about breaking even,” she says. “The main problem is that society is not much aware of art. People are more interested in going for a flower show, handicrafts or cloth exhibitions, rather than come for an art show.”

Initially, Bindhi had a trying time to establish the gallery. “Many senior artistes were not keen to display their works,” she says. “They prefer a reputed gallery. When I put up my first group show, I did not get the works of senior artistes.”

But things changed when she began to get media coverage. “Society believes what the media says,” she says. “For art media is essential. Those who puts up shows in my gallery, they urge me to organize the press coverage. It is a strain for me, as I have to go and meet the journalists at their offices. When an article appears in the newspaper, the relatives read it and the artistes are happy about the recognition. They don’t want the paintings to be sold. They just want a stage to perform. And get appreciated. And nowadays, that is done through the media.”

But it is not that Bindhi gets praise all the time. “When you hold an exhibition of artistes of the same calibre, those who are left out feel angry,” she says. “I have had many bad experiences. Some artistes come up and say in an accusing tone, 'Why have you forgotten me?' There is nothing deliberate about the oversight, and I promise them a chance at the next exhibition. But this particular artiste is so angry he or she is not willing to take part again.”

Meanwhile, one of Kerala’s senior-most artistes, C.N. Karunakaran says that the gallery has every chance of continuing to do well. “It is her own space, so she does not have to pay rent,” he says. “Most galleries have to pay high rents and the returns are not that good. That is one reason why galleries had to close down in the past. Bindi is an artiste herself, so she is not focused only on making a profit. Plus, she has good contacts.”

Yes, with the help of her contacts, Bindhi is ploughing ahead. “Art is a passion for me,” she says. “The organisers of the Kochi Biennale have expressed an interest in holding exhibitions in my gallery. So I feel happy about that.”

(The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

Myriad emotions on the street

2012-01-31T08:07:00.000+05:30

Santhosh Rajendran’s ‘Streetalight’ photography exhibition highlights the extreme sights of poverty that is common on streets in India

Photo: An old man in Thiruvananthapuram

By Shevlin Sebastian

One of the most striking photos in Santhosh Rajendran's 'Streetalights' exhibition is that of an old man, with a straggly white beard, his forehead creased with deep wrinkles. But it is the eyes, staring into the distance, that grip the viewer. This man has seen the ups and downs, the good and bad, the searing and the ecstatic.

“He is a former hoodlum,” says Santhosh. The old man, who has no family, stays near the St Mary's Church in Thiruvananthapuram. “He had no money to buy food, nor did he have a place to stay, so the local people helped him set up a shop selling cigarettes,” says Santhosh. The photographer spotted him sitting outside and quickly took a snap on his Canon US 550 D.

The exhibition focuses on sights of poverty. There is a picture of two sleeping girls, their buttocks exposed and flies have settled all over their bodies. “We complain all the time that our mosquito coils are not working,” says Santhosh. “And here are these children who are sleeping oblivious to the flies.”

At Kanyakumari, Santhosh spotted a tiny man, with polio-affected legs, who was holding an iron rod, double his height, as a staff on a busy street. A tall sari-clad woman passer-by accentuated the man's shortness. But there is a look of determination on his face. He is clutching a black bag, with photos of Kanykumari sticking out of it.

“He is not blaming destiny for his handicap,” says Santhosh. “Instead, he is working hard, selling photos, to earn a living. In Kerala, if somebody has a disability they will not work. Instead, they will start begging.”

Near the police station at Kanyakumari, Santhosh spotted a mentally challenged woman, with limp legs. Her hair is matted with dust, and so are her clothes. A bearded man, in an equally dishevelled state, has held her up from behind, since she cannot stand on her own. And the begging bowl is prominently held out. “I don’t know whether he is the husband or just a companion,” he says. “But I know that this is love.”

One photo can make you squirm inwardly. It is of a sleeping man, who is lying on a mat, with one foot of his polio-stricken placed next to his head. There are several coins placed next to his body. “I had a feeling criminals were forcing him to do this, because of his freak disability,” says Santhosh.

The photo which tugs at the heart is a boy sitting on a mat and looking up with an air of expectancy. But the shot is only of the look on the boy’s face. “Actually, he is staring at a man who is putting his hand in his pocket to give some money,” says Santhosh.

Another photo shows two young girls begging in front of what seems to be the shutter of a shop, a motorcycle helmet placed incongruously between them. One girl, facing the camera, has a smooth face, but with a worried look in her eyes. “She could easily have been my sister and living in my home,” says Santhosh. “No one would say she is a beggar. They will say she is my sister. She is so beautiful.”

For Santhosh, the aim of these photographs is to sensitise the viewing public. “We share the same air and space but most people ignore these sights,” he says. “Photography is neither an art or a science. It is a medium for social awareness.”

One viewer who is overwhelmed is Angela Sriram, an American black artist, who was visiting Kochi to see her Malayali husband’s relatives. “I am getting goose-bumps looking at these photographs,” she says. “They are moving, intelligent, and textured. These pictures have been taken from the heart. Santhosh has an amazing talent.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Getting the script right

2012-01-25T11:35:00.001+05:30

The second Script International Short Film Festival, organised by the Rotary Club of Cochin Metropolis, was a resounding success

Photos: Acclaimed film-maker Adoor Gopalakrishnan presenting the Best Film in the Students' Category to Reema Sengupta; the poster of 'Meals Ready'

By Shevlin Sebastian

“At a time when the entertainment industry is becoming irresponsible, it is nice to see socially responsible films,” says acclaimed film-maker Adoor Gopalakrishnan. “In the film industry, we only think of profits. It is important to regain the lost values. We have to cultivate an audience for the short and experimental films, and documentaries.”

Gopalakrishnan was speaking at the prize-giving function of the Script International Short Film Festival, organised by the Rotary Club of Cochin Metropolis, which concluded on Saturday. Around 65 films in various categories – international, Indian, documentary, students and mini – were screened. It was viewed by a jury which comprised of Jose Dominic (CMD, CGH Earth Group), Vivek Mohan, National award-winning director, Sophy Sivaram (documentary expert) and actress Revathy.

“It has been a beautiful experience,” says Revathy. “There is a lot of sensitivity among the youth. They are looking beyond themselves. Some are making films from their head, while the others are doing it with their hearts.” Jose Dominic says, “I am amazed by the freshness of the ideas.”

In the Indian Filmmakers category, the winner was 'Meals Ready' by Nithuna Nevil Dinesh. It is about how a man stood in the torrid heat, holding a sign saying, 'Meals Ready', and trying to lure passers-by to come into the hotel. The owner is not bothered about how difficult the job is. Later, the scene shifts to the worker's home where he is sharing the meal that he has received from the hotel with his wife. “It showed how people can be happy over the simplest of pleasures,” says Vivek.

In the documentary category, the top prize went to 'Platform No 5' by C. Vanaja. This is about street-children working at the Secunderabad railway station and collecting plastic bottles and reselling them. “They have run away from their homes or been abandoned by their parents,” says the Hyderabad-based Vanaja. “Most of the children did not want to return home. However, the most riveting moment was when I told one boy that there had been a survey and it was discovered that most of the children were dead by the time they are 16 or 17. It could be through diseases, accidents or murders by the Mafia for their body organs.”

When the boy heard this, there was a look of shock and despondency. Vanaja was able to capture this mood, which had a searing impact on the viewer. Vanaja told the Kochi crowd that a few days after the film was shot, the boy returned to his family. And the audience burst into sustained applause. “Yes, it was one of the best moments for me,” she said.

What was also elevating to see was the poise and self-confidence displayed by young film-makers like Reema Sengupta who won in the students category: 'The Tigers – they are all dead'. “I was very worried when I read a survey that the tiger population was going down,” she says. “So I decided to take proactive action by making a film.” And Reema did it in the form of a satire, because “people don't like to be preached to.”

Other winners included 'I don't feel like dancing' by Evi Goldbrunner (Germany) in the international category, 'Don't lend a smoke' by Amit Singh in the Mini Film (maximum of two minutes) category, and Special Jury Awards to 'Inside Out' by Mumbai students Shilpi Gulati and Divya Cowasji and 'When I met Nikhil' by Ajitsinh Deepaksinh Mirdhe.

Earlier, Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) awards were given. In the public sector, BPCL Cochin Refinery won the first prize. Others winners included Shobha Developers in the private sector (Above Rs 150 crore) and DP World (below Rs 150 crore) and a Jury Award for outstanding CSR work to Terumo Penpol.

Light moments were provided by Vivek Mohan. “Alfred Hitchcock [famed Hollywood director] said, 'In feature films the director is God, but in documentary films God is the director',” says Vivek. “However, this is not true in a Salman Khan film where he is both God as well as the director.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

'I am happy to be with him'

2012-01-24T09:21:00.000+05:30

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Gayatri talks about her marriage to the diminutive actor, Unda Pakru

By Shevlin Sebastian

Gayatri will never forget the incident after her marriage to Unda Pakru at the Kumaranalloor Devi Temple at Kottayam on March 8, 2006. The couple proceeded to the banks of the Meenachil River. Unda Pakru has a house at one side. The videographer suggested that the newly-married couple get on the boat, so that he can take a few images. The boat was pushed towards the centre, but suddenly the long rope holding it to a wooden barricade, on the bank, snapped.

The boat began to flow downstream. “I felt terrified,” says Gayatri. “It was the first time in my life that I had got on to a boat.” Her husband asked her whether she knew how to swim. Gayatri shook her head.

Pakru said, “Don't move. In case I cannot guide the boat to the other bank, it will float, and we will reach somewhere.”

So, while the 5'2” woman stayed immobile, the 2'6” Pakru took proactive action. He leaned over the side of the boat and began using his hands like a paddle.

Meanwhile, there were panicky shouts and screams among the family members, relatives, and guests. While all this commotion was going on, Pakru kept calm and guided the boat to the other bank. And they got off safely.

Earlier, when the marriage proposal first came, Gayatri agreed immediately. “I really don't know why I said yes,” she says. “But I liked him from the very beginning.” Not surprisingly, her parents and her younger sister were opposed. “They told me that there would be difficulties because of his lack of height,” says Gayatri. “I said I had no problems that Ajayan (Unda Pakru) was not tall.”

When Pakru came to see Gayatri, it did not take him long to win over his in-laws. “My parents and sister warmed to him immediately,” says Gayatri. “He has that quality about him. In fact, today, they like him more than me.”

So, after five and a half years of marriage, what does she like about the diminutive actor? “Ajayan has his own individuality,” says Gayatri. “Before he makes a decision, he thinks about it very hard. But once he decides, it is impossible to make him change his mind. He is very strong mentally. I admire that quality the most in him. He has come so far only because of his strong will.”

For those who don't know, Unda Pakru has acted in 50 films. In 'My Big Father', he was the hero, co-starring with Jayaram. Amazingly, he did all the stunts, like horse riding,
on his own. Pakru is also listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the 'shortest actor who played a full-length character role in a feature film'.

So, what about his negative traits? “Ajayan gets angry quickly, but immediately, he calms down,” says Gayatri. “With him, if you ask anything in anger, he will not agree to it. You have to ask in a nice way.”

Sometimes, when he is writing a script for a programme, there is a distant look on his face. “Whatever I say to him, he does not listen,” says Gayatri. “I realize that Ajayan is in a different world. So I stay away. This might last for a few hours and then he is back to normal.”

So, do the public react differently when they see them at a function? “People have behaved wonderfully with us,” says Gayatri. “They shower us with a lot of affection. They will never ask him or me about why we got married. They ask me about who is there to assist me in the house, and where do I stay? We live an ordinary life, just like any other couple.”

The couple have a three-year-old daughter, Deepthakeerthi. “She is too young to know that Ajayan is her father, although she does call him 'Accha',” says Gayatri. “She loves to play with him. Deepthakeerthi feels that when I discipline her, Ajayan is the only one who will support and protect her. He never scolds her, so she is very happy with him. Sometimes, she will call him the way I do: Ajayettan.”

Finally, when asked whether Pakru's height is an impediment, Gayatri says, “There are no difficulties just because he is short. He is as normal as everybody else. Ajayan does everything on his own, be it going to the cinema set or coming for lunch at the dining room table. I am happy to be with him.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Man in search of his soul

2012-01-21T08:13:00.000+05:30

Four artistes concentrate on the negative side of life, and the turbulence of emotions

Photos: K.P. Pradeep Kumar standing next to his 'Transfigurations-3'; K.A. Benny's untitled acrylic on canvas

By Shevlin Sebastian

When you enter the David Hall in Kochi , for the exhibition, 'Paintings and Paperworks’, the first work that catches the eye is K.P. Pradeep Kumar's 'Transfigurations-3'. It is an oil on canvas, drawn in rich green colours, which shows a group of Kerala women, wearing white sarees, with umbrellas covering half their faces, standing in rows.

In the first line there are eight, then it becomes one less in the second, till there are only three on the last row. It looks like a Roman legion. But Pradeep Kumar says that the intention is to resemble the roof of the house.

On all sides are trees that lay uprooted, their roots exposed. Clearly, it is a message about nature getting despoiled and women acting as a symbol of regeneration. Pradeep Kumar has also done several charcoal and pastel drawings with a woman as the central character, on handmade rice paper, which he procured from the Gandhi Ashram in Sabarmati, Gujarat .

Meanwhile, artist NN Mohandas concentrates on simple subjects. In 'Park-2', an oil on canvas, he has drawn a young man, with shades of black around his eyes, sitting next to a middle-aged man, with wild, distraught eyes on a bench in a park. Right in front of them are flowering plants growing in red pots. It is drawn in light pastel shades and is an apt commentary on modern life.

“People are consumed by worry that they are unable to enjoy life,” says Mohandas. “Unlike the men, the plants are growing serenely, effortlessly, and at peace.”

'Beach' by Mohandas is also a microcosm of life. A man and a woman are sitting on a bench at the
beach. But the man sits, with his chin placed on his knuckles, in the manner of Auguste Rodin's ‘Thinker’, while the woman looks away. Clearly, this is a marriage in crisis. Blue waves are moving around forcefully – a metaphor for the emotional turbulence within the couple. “I have been inspired by Edvard Munch,” says Mohandas. The Norwegian Symbolist painter's stated goal was “the study of the soul, that is to say the study of my own self.”

T.C. Joshy's acrylic on canvas shows a neat and simple drawing of the facade of a house with a tin roof. A chair is placed next to a barely-opened door. There is an empty bed with a blue counterpane on the verandah, apart from pieces of wood, a tube light on the wall, and a window which looks into darkness. From the outside, it looks like an empty house, yet, there is a feeling that life is pulsating within the four walls.

“This is the exterior of a fish shop in Kottayam,” says Joshy. “It was deserted on a Sunday morning. Although when I did the sketches, I did feel there was somebody inside.”

K.A. Benny's untitled acrylic on canvas, done in thick, bold strokes, shows a man walking on the parapet of what looks like a well, weighed down by a large cloth which trails behind him. At one end, there is a tense-looking cricket, as well as snails.

If you look into the crevice, you can see a band of sunlight, while all around it is water, with rock formations sticking out. Looking above, you can see a darkened farmhouse, with sloping roofs, rolling grasslands and thick, smothering black clouds. Two owls are perched on a tree trunk. There is a forbidding air about the picture, as if life is a series of hurdles to be surmounted, although there are moments when the sun shines through.

“Yes, there is a feeling of nostalgia and sadness,” says Benny. “I was recalling my life in Idukki, where I spent many years. I now stay in Wayanad and work for a bamboo co-operative. It is a delving into old memories. In Idukki, near the dam, there are many man-made constructions which are like huge holes. I used that image as the inspiration.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Kissing The World

2012-01-19T08:55:00.000+05:30

Entrepreneur and best-selling author Subroto Bagchi talks about what ails the country and the qualities required for success in life

By Shevlin Sebastian

One morning, on his way to work, in Bangalore, entrepreneur and best-selling author Subroto Bagchi had stopped at a red traffic light. Suddenly, he noticed that a cart had overturned and the tomatoes were strewn all across the road. Soon, the light turned green. Before the agonised eyes of the vendor, the tomatoes were squashed.

“Within seconds, his day's work was gone,” says Bagchi. “I immediately realised that he was a micro-credit guy. He had taken a micro loan, bought the tomatoes and after selling the produce, he would repay the loan, and make a tiny profit. Now, his inventory was gone. He cannot repay his principal amount. So what was his next step?”

Bagchi felt that the man would have to take a loan again and be back the next day on the streets. “Meanwhile, here were hundreds of people in their cars, who are worrying about their jobs, promotions, increments, about being laid off, the need to have one more car or house,” he says. “We are so anxious about our future, but here was a guy whose future is now.”

This incident, published in a column, in a leading newspaper, became his most-read article. And it is these pithy observations that have made him a best-selling author. Bagchi's most well-known book is 'Go Kiss The World – Life Lessons for the Young Professional', an autobiographical book about growing up in small towns in Orissa.

Asked to explain its success, he says, “The book resonated a lot with small-town people. India remains a small-town country. It is the story of an ordinary person who came from nowhere and made a mark.” Interestingly, the title of the book is the last sentence his blind mother spoke to Bagchi before she passed away.

Bagchi has written other best-selling books like, 'The High-Performance Entrepreneur' and 'The Professional'. And he is Vice-Chairman, and Gardener of the highly regarded MindTree, an IT company that he founded. “As Gardener I am personally responsible for the Top 100 people in the company, in terms of expanding their individual leadership abilities, apart from other responsibilities,” he says.

Bagchi had come to give a reading at the new Penguin Book store in Kochi. Eventually, it was his daughter, Niti, a Latin scholar at Columbia University, who did the reading. But Bagchi impressed with his lucid thoughts and his speaking skills.

“I felt very welcome,” he said, as he analysed the Kochi audience the next morning, while enjoying an early breakfast in the garden of the Vivanta By Taj. “But I also felt that there was an undercurrent of two generations. The older people were worried about what would happen to their children. There were questions like, 'Do you think that the value system would be intact? Do you think that our and the children's future is safe?' On the other hand, the youth were asking questions about integrity and the potential of business.”

Bagchi himself is worried about the state of the country. “We are a nation in decline,” he says. “When you look at what goes on in Parliament, you realise it is a huge lost opportunity. Because this life will go away. In another ten years, the people who are shouting and screaming, getting in and out of jail, they will all be dead or dying. Then they might ask, 'What did I do with my life?' It is the job of a generation to create a legacy. Instead, they are leaving behind greed, and a self-obsessed idea of power.”

Unlike the politicians, Bagchi has always embodied integrity and leadership qualities. Asked about the qualities needed for success, he says, “You require a vision which is larger than your own self-interests. I once asked the Dalai Lama about his idea of power, and he said, 'Your purpose determines your power.' When you have a great purpose, it will start pulling you and the power will come from the universe.”

Bagchi recalled the incident when Gandhi was thrown off the train on June 7, 1893 in in Pietermaritzburg, South Africa, because he refused to move to the third class coach, since he had a first class ticket. “Now, at that moment, the purpose of Gandhi could be to sue the railway official who threw him out, since he was a lawyer,” says Bagchi. “Or he could have returned to India. But in that moment, his purpose was to fight apartheid, which was a grand vision on his part.”

But Bagchi says that the moment you have established a vision, there is a lot of hard work and commitment that is needed. “Many people are afraid of success,” he says. “It is about responsibility. It is about sustainability. When you are up there, in the spotlight, there is no crawling back to your mother's womb. You have to face the heat. The biggest challenge is to live up to your own expectations.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

When love comes calling

2012-01-17T08:45:00.000+05:30

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Saritha talks about how she spoke to popular actor Jayasurya through a phone-in programme, and ended up falling in love and getting married to him

By Shevlin Sebastian

During the shooting of the Tamil version of 'Oomappenninu Uriyadappayyan' in Ooty, in 2002, one day the work finished at 7 p.m. Usually, the next day's shooting began at 6.30 a.m. But actor Jayasurya was told by the production crew that it would start at 8.30 a.m. Immediately he set out in his Hyundai Accent all the way to Kochi. The reason: he wanted to meet his lady love, Saritha.

Throughout the hairpin bends that he took on that foggy night, he kept calling Saritha, asking her not to sleep, as he would be arriving at any moment. In the end, he came to Kochi at 2 a.m., and went directly to Saritha's apartment in Panampilly Nagar. She was waiting patiently, along with her sister, and their parents. After barely half an hour, Jayasurya set out, back to Ooty, to be in time for the morning shoot.

“That was during the peak of our love affair,” says Saritha. “I was moved by what he did.”

Jayasurya and Saritha met in an unusual way. The actor had a live phone-in programme on the ACV television channel, which soon became very popular. “My grandmother and sister were avid fans of his,” says Saritha. Once, when Saritha -- who was doing her degree in bio-technology at the Dayanand Sagar College of Engineering, Bangalore -- came to Kochi on a vacation, she also spoke to Jayasurya during one programme. “Soon we began speaking on the phone,” she says. A few months later, Saritha's family was going for a function at Tripunithara where Jayasurya stayed. A meeting was arranged and Saritha met Jayasurya for the first time.

“There were no sparks at that first meeting,” she says. “We exchanged a few words.” But they continued talking to each other. “I regarded him as a good friend, in whom I could confide everything,” she says.

But matters hotted up when Jayasurya rented a flat in the same building as Saritha. “Our families became very close,” she says. “We were constantly in and out of each other's apartments.”

But slowly, without them actually knowing, the duo fell in love. Both the families did not suspect anything. “There would be humourous discussions about what type of people we would like to marry,” says Saritha. “There was no hint given to anybody that we may be interested in each other.”

So, when the couple announced that they wanted to marry, both families were initially shocked. “But gradually, they accepted our decision,” says Saritha.

After Saritha completed her M Sc. in biotechnology, they got married on January 25, 2004.

And in these eight years, Saritha has a good understanding of her husband. “His biggest plus points is his simple and humble nature,” she says. “That is what I liked the most in him from the beginning. But I never imagined that I would marry somebody like him. I am a science student and he is into arts. But God willed otherwise.”

Saritha also likes Jayasurya's positive attitude. “Even when we are going through difficult moments, Jayasurya rarely gets negative-minded,” says Saritha. “Instead, he is busy trying to find solutions to problems.”

His one drawback is that he tends to rush through when he is doing something. “He can be impulsive at times,” says Saritha.

And does she enjoy being the wife of a celebrity? “Yes, I do,” she says. “Suppose I go to a function, people will ask me, “Aren’t you Jayasurya’s wife? And I realize that it has a lot to do with the fact that they hold my husband in high regard and affection. It makes me feel good.”

And unlike most celebrities, Saritha says that they try to lead as normal a life as possible. “We go to the halls to see films, we go to the parks with our son, Advaith,” she says. (Incidentally, just ten days ago, Saritha gave birth to a baby girl). “We are regulars at the Oberon Mall. I don’t think there is a loss of privacy. When people see us they react differently. Some rush towards us, and, usually, they want photographs to be taken. But many just look at us from a distance.”

Asked whether an acting career creates a lot of insecurity, because one is dependent on getting roles all the time, Saritha says, “My husband told me, 'Always give more than 100 per cent to your work. Then the profession will show loyalty to you also. And the roles will keep coming.'”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Impresario makes its mark in Kochi

2012-01-16T08:50:00.000+05:30

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photos: The winners of the Miss Kerala 2011 event; Ram Menon, executive director, Impresario

Three friends, Harish Babu, Hariharan and Ram Menon would meet up on weekends for a chitchat and fun. One day, the thought arose of starting an outfit of their own. which was different, creative, and exciting. The trio explored several options, but in the end settled for event marketing. Thus was born Impresario, Kerala's first event management company in October, 1995.

“The concept of event marketing was new to kerala,” says Ram. “To make our presence felt, we organized trade fairs.”

But their biggest impact happened when Impresario started the Miss Kerala competitions in 2000. At that time, an unknown unknown youngster Ranjini Haridas walked confidently down the ramp. During the question round, she answered with zip and panache. So, it was no surprises when she won the Miss Kerala crown. But she could never have imagined that the win would transform her life.

Ever since then, Ranjini has been part of the cultural landscape of Kerala, as the popular, long-standing anchor of the Idea Star Singer show and the master of ceremonies for numerous public events. She also appears often on advertisements on television, radio and the print media.

“The event struck a chord with the public, because there was no such programme before,” says Ram Menon, the executive director of 'Impresario'. “There were hardly any activities which gripped the youth. Secondly, since it was a competition, it held everybody's interest.”

It takes about six months of preparation for the successful holding of the event. “Initially, the impetus is to get the right sponsor,” says Ram. “The investment for a Miss Kerala is Rs 40 lakhs.”

Today, the Miss Kerala show has become an inescapable annual event, not to be missed at all costs, especially for young girls. Quite a few winners have ended up getting roles in films.

Reema Kallingal, who was the Miss Kerala Runner-Up in 2008, is a rising star. Indu Thampy, the 2010 winner, is a heroine in three Malayalam films, while Rohini Mariam Idicula, the 2007 winner, is a model in London.

Impresario organises another popular event in early December: the Navy Festival. This is the only time of the year when the public can enter the campus and have a look around. “There are amusement stalls, exhibitions, and entertainment programmes,” says Ram.

Apart from this, Impresario does product launches, promotions, musical nites like an A.R. Rahman show in Kozhikode, organizes one-day cricket matches, and what is increasingly an imitation of a north Indian trend: themed weddings.

“There is a demand for this,” says Ram. “So we do themes like Arabic, Mughul or Rajasthani.” For a Rajasthani themed wedding, there will be a puppet show, guests will get Rajasthani food to eat, and the waiters will be wearing the attire of the North Indian state, including the colourful headgear.

(An abridged version appeared in The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

A wine-coloured night

2012-01-13T09:35:00.000+05:30

A five-course dinner, along with suitable wines from Sula Vineyards, made it a night to remember at the Casino Hotel

Photos: Ajoy Shaw (standing) chief wine-maker and associate, Sula Vineyards, giving a talk; A bottle of Dia

By Shevlin Sebastian

The setting is romantic. Round tables covered by crisp white tablecloths, with gleaming glasses, steel knives, forks, and spoons. The lighting is muted. On every table, there is a lit candle. Twenty couples sit and speak softly. Instrumental music wafts in through the large speakers – old classics like 'The Love Theme' from the Godfather film and Lobo's ‘I'd love you to want me'. And standing right in the middle -- of the Durbar Hall of the Casino Hotel -- holding a mike in his hand, is a bespectacled man, with a tiny goatee. He is Ajoy Shaw, chief wine-maker and associate, Sula Vineyards. The aim: to have a five-course dinner allied with the best wines from Sula.

“Outside India, there is a good wine culture, where people drink wine with food,” says Ajoy. “This is missing right now in India. However, over the last few years, wine has taken centre-stage. From being one of the drinks in parties, it is one of the main beverages now. What we are starting will hopefully become a habit when people will have wine and food together.”

So, for the first course, garden fresh lettuce, pears, and Parmesian salad, it is best to have it with a sparkling white wine called Sula Brut. “The fruitiness of the pears matches the fruitiness in the wine,” says Ajoy. “The yeast, in the wine, which is fermented, goes well with the ingredients, like the lettuce and the vegetables. Basically, you are matching the intensity of the fruit flavour with the intensity of the acids and the flavours in the wine.”

It is important that the wine should not mask or overwhelm the food. “Wine should bring about a synergy and accentuate the aromas of the food,” says Erin Louis, the general manager of the Casino Hotel. “That is what food pairing is all about.”

Meanwhile, for the seafood soup, Ajoy suggests the Sauvignon Blanc. “It is a white wine which goes well with sea food, with its mix of herbs like basil and thyme,” he says. Next is the grilled fish, which is marinated in masala, along with garlic butter, and accompanied by spinach.

“Chenin Blanc is the best wine to have with this, because it has honeyed characteristics, and gives off a languid effect,” he says. “The wine also has a residual sweetness, which balances out the spiciness. Sometimes, it is good to have a contrast. When you have rich and oily food, you need an acid wine to cleanse your palate.”

For the chicken, with olives, what is best is a red wine, Cabernat-Shiraz, while for a dessert of bitter chocolate mousse, Dia is the best bet. “Dia, one of our most popular, is a light sweet sparkling wine,” says Ajoy. “It offers an effective contrast to the bitter chocolate.”

Since Sula Wines is unable to advertise because of Central government restrictions on alcoholic drinks, they do these intimate dinners to publicise their wines. And Ajoy is upbeat about the Kerala market where sales have been doubling every year.

“We have noticed that two groups of people all over India, including Kerala, are dedicated wine drinkers,” he says. “One is in the 25-30 year category, and they work mostly in the IT industry. They have chosen wine because it is in fashion now. Plus, they have been abroad and encountered a wine culture in restaurants. The other category are those who are fifty years and above, who have tired of drinking hard liquor for years.”

But among the general public, especially in Kerala, wine-drinking still means having a sweet home-made concoction during Christmas. “Wine-drinking is an upper-class activity,” says Erin. “However, sales are going up steadily. Ten years ago, there was only one company, Grover Wines, selling wine in Kerala. Now there are seven. I am sure the more sessions we hold like this, the more we will be able to create an awareness. In the end, wine has many health-benefits, as compared to other drinks.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

'It is fun to live with Shyam'

2012-01-10T13:23:00.000+05:30

COLUMN: Spouse’s Turn

Sheeba talks about life with Shyamaprasad Rajagopal, the noted film director

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Sheeba saw Shyamaprasad for the first time in January, 1985, she fell in love with him. “He had an attractive personality,” she says. “Shyam dressed well also.” At that time, Sheeba was auditioning for an announcer's post in Doordarshan at Thiruvananthapuram, while Shyam was working as an assistant producer. Sheeba got selected and, soon, she began to look out for Shyam whenever she was in the office.

It was in April that Shyam came up to her to have a chat because Sheeba was also doubling up as a production assistant. “He asked me my name and where I stayed,” says Sheeba. “I asked the same questions. Then we started saying hello whenever we saw each other.”

One day, Shyam telephoned Sheeba at her home. “I got very excited,” she says. “I did not ask him how he got my telephone number. I felt that, maybe, he could be interested in me.”

In the meantime, Sheeba's friend, Radhika, told her that Shyam was keen about her. But Sheeba felt unsure. “I was finding it difficult to believe that, of all the beautiful girls at Doordarshan, Shyam wanted to marry me,” she says. “But later, a producer, John Samuel, came and told me the same thing. So I was finally convinced. It was one of the highlights of my life.”

Now, Sheeba had to break the news to her father. “I was scared whether my father would get angry,” she says. “One day, I took my dad to the terrace and told him that I am in love with somebody and wanted to marry him. But I said I would only accept if his parents agreed to the proposal.” Subsequently, Shyam's parents -- his father is the BJP leader, O. Rajagopal and his mother, Shanta -- paid a visit.

And on May 28, 1987, Shyam and Sheeba tied the knot. Sheeba sighs and says, “It is unbelievable, but in a few months we will be celebrating our silver jubilee,” she says. The couple has two children, Vishnu, 23, and Shivakami, 14.

So, what type of a husband is Shyam? “He rarely gets angry,” she says. “He is very loving. Whenever he goes away from home, he will always call me, even when he is in a foreign country.”

Sheeba admits that of the two, she has the hot temper. “Shyam is always calm, steady and laid-back,” she says.

In fact, he has been laid-back as a parent also. “In my childhood, when we light the lamp in the evening, we would immediately start studying,” says Sheeba. “But Shyam has not followed these rules. He was never strict with the children. Shyam would tell them, 'If you want to do well, you will have to study.' I feel that at times, you have to be firm. But when it comes to my son, it turned out to be the right decision. Vishnu is doing something that he likes. After completing a course in film studies, he is working in a firm in Mumbai which makes advertising films.”

As an award-winning director of films like 'Akale' and 'Ore Kadal', Shyam is noted for his creativity. So how difficult is it to live with such a person? “When he is making a film, he becomes a person whom I cannot recognise,” says Sheeba. “Shyam goes into a world of his own. His mental preparation before shooting begins is intense and concentrated. He rarely listens to us. Earlier, I would feel irritated. But now I have got used to it. I understand that this is the creative process before shooting begins.”

And there are many tense moments. Sometimes, there are problems with dates or finding the right locations. “It is a stressful time for him,” says Sheeba. “When he gets disturbed, I tend to keep away from him. In case I am around, I try to soothe him. After so many years of marriage, I know at which moments to intervene or stay away.”

But for Sheeba, the best time is when they go for a morning walk. “That is the time I have him to myself,” she says. “And he is such a good listener. I talk about my job [in the State Bank of Travancore], about our children and life in general. It is fun to live with Shyam.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

A confluence of dazzling international art

2012-01-09T08:38:00.000+05:30

The Kochi Biennale is set to change the face of Indian art

Photos: Painter Bose Krishnamachari; the refurbished Durbar Hall gallery in Kochi

By Shevlin Sebastian

Painter Bose Krishnamachari, dressed casually in a blue T-shirt and jeans, looks serene even as work is going on at the gallery at the Durbar Hall in Kochi on a cloudy day. So workers are banging nails into planks, a photographer is taking shots, while harried assistants come to Bose to get solutions to last-minute hitches. The gallery was inaugurated by Chief Minister Oommen Chandy recently. He described it as 'Asia's best gallery'.

As the director of the Kochi Biennale Foundation, it has been Bose's desire to transform a 150-year-old gallery in the centre of Kochi to a world class one. “It has taken 14 months of work,” he says.

He wanders around the open spaces, points at the walls, and says, “These are fire-proof Hilux sheets, which have been pasted on to the old walls. On the ceiling, there are ERCO LED lights, which is the world's best lighting technology, and used for the first time in India.” There are four galleries, the ones on the ground floor at a height of 11 ft., while on the spacious first floor, there are 18 ft. high walls. What looks attractive is the polished wooden floor and and the high ceiling.

“We have ensured that the original structure has been kept intact,” says Bose. Well-known architect Radhika Desai, who has worked with the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, as well as Vikas Dilawari, who won an UNESCO award for his conservation work at the Dr. Bhau Daji Lad Museum in Mumbai, provided valuable inputs.

“We had to be careful about the moist, and hot weather conditions in Kerala, particularly when working with the laterite stone which is like a sponge that sucks in the moisture in the atmosphere,” says Radhika.

To refurbish the gallery has cost Rs 3.5 crore and the funding has come from the State Government. “The Centre, as well as institutions, corporates and individuals have also chipped in,” says Bose.

The Mumbai-based painter has big plans. He wants to set up a Biennale -- an international art exhibition -- which will showcase the best works of Indian and international artists, and will be displayed all over Kochi, in cultural institutions, museums, academies, with the centre being the Durbar Hall gallery.

“If you look at the history of biennales the world over, it is the meeting place for creative exchanges between nations and cultures,” says Bose's fellow director Riyas Komu. “It is an important platform for critical artistic debate.”

The first biennale opened in Venice in 1895 AD. At present there are more than 150 biennales all over the world. The most noted are the ones in Venice, Sao Paulo, Liverpool, Lyon, Istanbul, Havana, Guangzhou, and Sydney. “Every other year there are new visions and developments in art,” says Riyas. “The host city is the only constant.”

The Kochi Bienalle is expected to kick off in a few months time. Meanwhile, the selection of the art works will be done through consultation with globally-reputed curators, artists, gallery-owners, museum directors, institutions, and cultural ambassadors. “We will be doing extensive research to get the best,” says Bose. “Whenever we talk about Kochi and the Indian biennale, it excites everyone in the art world!”

Interestingly, many Indian artistes have taken part in the Biennales in other countries. Recently, Subodh Gupta, Nalini Malani, Dayanita Singh, Anju Dodiya and Riyas have exhibited in the Venice Biennale. Says Bose: “It would be a moment of great pride to bring all these eminent artists together in a Biennale in our own country.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala and Delhi)

Living in Italy and writing in Malayalam

2012-01-07T07:58:00.000+05:30

Legia Bonetti, who is married to an Italian, has just won a Malayalam short story competition

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Legia Bonetti was on a short visit to Kerala, from Italy, she saw an advertisement in the prestigious puzha.com web site, asking for entries for a short story competition. So, she sat and wrote a 2300 word story, titled ‘Avasanathe Uruppadi ’ (The Last Piece).

It is about a woman, in her mid-fifties, who lives in a posh house, but is all alone. The house is being put up for sale, while the daughter is keen that her mother goes and stays in the empty family tharavad. “It is a relevant theme,” says Legia. “Many elderly people in Kerala are being abandoned by their children.”

The web site received 150 entries. But what came as a shock to Legia was when she won the first prize. “I never dreamt it would happen,” she says. Recently, the award ceremony took place at a function in Changampuzha Park and the top 10 entries have been published in a book.

The judges included a former professor C.R. Omanakuttan and well-known novelists M.K. Chandrasekharan, editor of puzha.com, and K.L. Mohana Varma. “Legia wrote the story in a touching manner, yet, at the same time, she kept up the suspense,” says Mohana Varma. “She could become a new breed of a global writer, whose writings could have a readership abroad, provided she works very hard.”

Legia has had an unusual life. She grew up in Thoppumpady, but tied the knot with an Italian, Guido Bonetti, on June 13, 1983. It was an arranged marriage. Guido was a friend of Legia’s brother, who worked abroad, and he was very interested in Indian culture. During a visit,
Guido formally proposed, and, unusually, Legia’s parents agreed. Her late father, K.R. John, was a well-known Communist trade union leader in Mattancherry.

Thanks to Guido, a civil engineer, Legia has lived in Nigeria, Ghana, Djibouti, Brazil, Libya, Greece, Switzerland, and Guido’s ancestral village of Gromo, which has a population of only 1100 people. “There are mountains and skiing facilities,” says Legia. “It is very beautiful, but I like it more at my home in Thoppumpady.”

In a foreign country, despite being a wife of a local, Legia always felt that she did not belong. “Nobody has insulted me, because I am an Indian or a coloured person,” she says. “But they always look at me, like a foreigner. Even in a highly modern city like Milan, people
still discriminate. For them I will always remain an Indian, even though I speak Italian, mix with them, have lunches and dinners and go out shopping. All foreigners are treated like that. I am not saying that they are bad, but their attitude is always, ‘we and you’.”

She remembers an incident of a Sri Lankan, who was working as a cleaning man in the railways in Switzerland. One day, he was beaten up by a group of young men, who said, “You coloured people are stealing our jobs.” Petrol was sprinkled on the Sri Lankan, and he was about to be burnt, when the police arrived in the nick of time.

And during all these tense moments, Legia would be steadily writing her short stories in Malayalam, her heart and soul always in Kerala. Guido has been the force behind her creative endeavours, says Lejia, although he took some time to understand the Malayali culture. “If
there is a marriage ceremony and I go with my relatives to buy the gold and the jewellery, he will ask me why I should go. ‘That is none of your business,’ he will say. ‘You are interfering too much.’ Europeans will never intrude.”

And this lack of interference is evident in their married life. “Whenever I say, ‘Can I go out?’ he will reply, ‘Why are you asking silly questions like that? You have your freedom. You are an
independent person. There is no need to ask me.’ So I have learned to do that. Nowadays, I say, ‘I am going out, bye.’”

Meanwhile, boosted by the award, Legia is busy working on her first book of short stories, which she hopes to bring out within a year.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

In tune with him

2012-01-05T08:05:00.000+05:30

COLUMN: Spouse’s Turn

Lekha Sreekumar talks about life with popular playback singer M.G. Sreekumar, for whom music is an abiding passion

By Shevlin Sebastian

One day, in 1988, Lekha Sreekumar had gone to the Sastha temple at Thycaud, Thiruvananthapuram, with her sister, Sheela. Outside the temple Sheela pointed out a man to Lekha and said, “He is the one who has sung all the hit songs in ‘Chitram.’” At that time, the songs were the rage.

When Lekha looked at playback singer, M.G. Sreekumar, she realized he was an ordinary person. “He was wearing a khadi mundu, and a printed shirt, with red and white flowers,” she says. “I felt amazed. Was this the same person I saw on the cassette?”

A few years earlier, Lekha had seen a video cassette of Sreekumar singing in a concert at Dubai. The performance was in the evening, but the singer was wearing sunshades. “I thought, ‘What’s happened to this guy?’” she says. “He looked so funny.”

Of course, it would be years later that she would understand the reason why. Sreekumar had an allergy and his eyes had turned red. Hence, he was forced to wear sunshades.

Meanwhile, at the temple, they exchanged glances.

A few days later, Lekha attended a concert by Sreekumar. “I was attracted by his voice, which was different, as compared to the singers I admired in that time, like Dasettan [K.J. Yesudas] and Unni Menon,” she says. “Sreekumar had an original voice. He never imitates anybody. His silent message is this: ‘This is my style. It is up to you to like it or not’. Since I am a person who has my own individuality I appreciated this quality in him.”

Following the concert they were introduced and spoke for a while. One evening, Lekha went for a walk in Jawahar Nagar. On that same road, Sreekumar was driving his Ambassador car, which he just bought with the Rs 26,000 payment he got for singing in ‘Chithram’.

“We talked and exchanged phone numbers,” says Lekha. “Soon, we developed a good friendship and talked on a variety of topics. We spoke about music a lot: his programmes, career and composing. Slowly I fell in love.”

Then the couple did something which was unthinkable in conservative Kerala at that time. They began a live-in relationship which lasted for several years. “There was a lot of opposition from society,” says Lekha. “But I don’t blame people because they were not used to the flouting of social rules and regulations. Many people spoke ill about us. There were restrictions on Sreekumar from seeing me.”

So, the singer was forced to take some desperate measures. One night, he wore a red saree over his trousers and covered his head with a shawl and went to Lekha’s apartment. “The watchman thought he was a woman,” says Lekha, with a laugh. “Then the next morning, he left in the same way. And nobody recognized him.”

The couple eventually tied the knot on January 14, 2000 at the Moogambika Temple at Kollur.

So what are the plus points of Sreekumar? “He never interferes in my life,” says Lekha. “He will never say, ‘Don’t do this or that’. He gives me a lot of freedom. I can drive the car or go shopping whenever I want.”

Even in sartorial choices, there are no restrictions. “Sometimes, I wear pants, or shorts, or sleeveless blouses” she says. “He does not worry about it. Even though Sreekumar was born and brought up in Thiruvananthapuram, he is not a typical Malayali. I know of certain husbands who will put restrictions on the type of clothes their wives can wear. They will demand a cup of coffee when they return from work. My husband will never behave like that. He is a good-hearted and romantic person, who buys me gifts all the time.”

Nevertheless, it must be difficult to live next to an artist. “Yes, like any creative person, Sreekumar has up and down moods,” says Lekha. “When he is in a low mood, I don’t go and tell him about my problems.”

On the day of a concert, Sreekumar will not talk much. Instead, he will be listening to music the whole day. “I don’t bother him during this time,” she says. “He is completely focused. In our house, there are no other activities. From morning till night, it is music, music, and music. It is a passion for him.”

Lekha pauses and says, “The art always comes first, but I am a close second.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

A view from the tip of Africa

2011-12-28T16:53:00.000+05:30

Mansoor Jaffer and his wife Kay are amazed by the diversity of cultures in Kerala. They also talk about life in a post-racist South Africa

Photo: Mansoor Jaffer (centre) with Shevlin Sebastian (extreme right) and Mark Antony, a 'New Indian Express' colleague of Shevlin's

By Shevlin Sebastian

More than a hundred years ago, Jaffer Murtaza left his home in a village, Borli Panchatan, in Maharashtra to seek his fortune in South Africa. He arrived at Cape Town with a group of other Indians. They started working in small shops in Cape Town. Later, a lot of Indians owned corner shops in South Africa. In fact, there was a cruel joke which said that the reason why Indians don’t play football is that when they are awarded a corner, during a game, they will immediately set up a shop.

Today, his grandson, Mansoor Jaffer, a journalist, has come to India for the first time, along with his wife, Kay, a former professor of English at the University of the Western Cape. “I came to see my roots and meet a few relatives in my ancestral village,” says Mansoor. But before that, the couple is touring India and have come to Kochi.

“I heard about the beauty of Kerala from my sister Zubeida, who is a writer, and had attended the Kovalam Literary Festival a couple of years ago,” says Mansoor. And, of course, Mansoor and Kay have been moving around, going to Munnar and the border districts. “It was only when we came here that we heard about the Mullaperiyar Dam issue,” says Kay. “In Cape Town, we do get news about India on cable TV. And we are aware of Anna Hazare and the Lokpal Bill.”

The duo finds Kerala a fascinating place. “From outside India, you cannot imagine the mixing of communities that exists,” says Kay. “You feel it must be a Hindu country, since 82 per cent of the population belongs to that community. But in Kerala, the mix of Muslim, Christian and Hindus is wonderful to see. I have seen mosques, temples and churches next to each other, apart from a Jain temple, and not to forget the Jewish synagogue at Fort Kochi. It has been incredible to witness the melting pot of cultures and religions.”

Unfortunately, South Africa was never a melting pot. Till recently, it was a racist society, where whites, blacks, Asians and coloured lived in separate areas.

“When we grew up, my wife and I could not vote, or swim at the local beaches, or study in many schools in Cape Town,” says Mansoor. “Imagine if you were living in Fort Kochi and you are forcibly moved out and asked to stay in another place. Other people, usually whites, moved into your house. Twenty years later when you get freedom and you come to Fort Kochi and see other people living there, you will get angry and resentful. But you also have to understand that in the broader interests of society, you need to forget it. As [former President] Nelson Mandela said the conflict which has been going on between blacks and whites for three centuries, needs to be broken. We have to learn to heal and forgive.”

And, amazingly, the African National Congress (ANC), the party which rules South Africa now, always felt that whites belong to the country. “The freedom charter, which was formulated in 1955, by the ANC and its allies, makes it very clear that South Africa belongs to all those who live in it,” says Kay. “It was a non-racial document. And, for us, it was a struggle for democracy, and equality for all peoples.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Mind and Matter

2011-12-26T07:49:00.000+05:30

Artist Vipin K. Nair focuses on thoughts that exists in one’s mind and the miracle of nature

Photo: Vipin K. Nair standing next to 'Freedom from roots'

By Shevlin Sebastian

One day, when Vipin K. Nair was eight years old, the class finished early. Whenever that happened his mother told him he should wait under the huge tree by the side of the road near the Shree Dharma Paripalana Yogam school at Palluruthy where he studied.

But while he was waiting, he suddenly felt sleepy. So, he went and lay down on the thick grass near the tree. Unfortunately, he could not be seen from the road. Soon, his parents and neighbours began to search frantically for him. At 6 p.m., Vipin got up and came to the road. It was getting dark; he began crying. But a neighbour who had gone to the school to do a check saw him and finally brought him home.

It was this memory that was a trigger for Vipin’s acrylic on canvas, ‘Freedom from roots’. Done in grey and black, it shows a huge overhanging tree with thick roots and foliage. At the bottom lies a boy, who is in a deep sleep, his right leg stretched out. In the undergrowth, a few mushrooms can be seen. There are roots that look like snakes.

If you step back, you can detect a face: cold eyes, a long nose, and a baleful grin. On the left is a woman, sitting with an upraised right leg and her long hair is flowing out onto the foliage. On the opposite side is another woman, her bare buttocks facing the viewer, with a side view of a protruding breast.

“The reason why I have shown the women is because they are motherly and offer protection and shade to those around them, including their husbands and children,” says Vipin. “That is the same function of the huge tree, which offers a home to so many small insects, apart from man.”

Nature has been the theme of many paintings. In one acrylic on canvas there are red-winged beetles moving around on green leaves and plants. Vipin has also drawn a volcano, before it has erupted, and has put in several embedded images. So there is a mountaintop that looks like two eyes staring back at you. The vent of the volcano gives the impression of it being a large eye or the entrance to a cave.

“Yes, I like to put several clues in a drawing,” says Vipin. “It is not just a volcano. There are people in it, and different moods have been expressed.”

So, in that sense, his paintings, a total of 16, even though they are abstract, can still be decoded with ease. He has also done a few paintings, which is a physical expression of thoughts. So there are lines which go left and right, up and down, some blood-red in colour, indicating the chaotic mind of modern man.

“I did this series on nature and the mind, because both are remarkable,” he says. “I would call them miracles of life. Nature keeps changing all the time, while the human mind, if its power is properly harnessed, can achieve anything.”

This is Vipin’s fourth solo exhibition. A graphic designer by day, he works late into the night on his paintings. “I am self-taught, but painting has been my passion for many years,” he says.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Christmas is coming!

2011-12-22T12:27:00.000+05:30

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Parimal Paul, the English teacher at Rajagiri Public School, Kochi, sees a Christmas star hanging in front of a house, she feels a pang of sadness. She is reminded of her late father, Advocate Joseph Katticaran, who passed away five years ago. "When I was a child, I would always help my father to hang up the stars," she says. "For a daughter, a father is always a hero and I dearly miss him."

Parimal's most memorable Christmas was when instead of making her mother make the food at home, her father brought food from Hotel International. “There were duck, rabbit, and chicken,” she says. “It was a wonderful spread.”

She also remembers going to midnight mass at the St. Mary’s Basilica with her family. “A family that celebrates festivals together is a happy family,” she says. After returning home, they would have chicken and vattayappan.

For Parimal, Christmas means Jesus Christ’s birth, cakes, Santa Claus, carols, and cookies. “Christmas always evokes a sense of nostalgia in me,” she says. “Frequently, I remember events from my childhood.”

For this year’s Christmas, Parimal is having a low-key celebration. “My daughter, Rosita, is having her Class 12 examinations and she is studying very hard,” she says. Nevertheless, she will be making a cake, chocolate, instead of the usual plum, because that is what she enjoys making. Parimal is also planning to do a fish bake. “After 25 days of fasting we will all be yearning for some non-vegetarian food,” she says, “My brothers and sisters will be coming with their families.”

For Mary George, her most memorable Christmas was when she went to Bangalore last year and spent the season with her uncle, Deepak, and his family. “I met my cousin, Ian, for the first time,” she says. “He was only five months old and was so cute.”

Her uncle took her to the big shopping malls like Central and Mantri. “There was such a large crowd,” she says.

On Christmas Day, there were gifts placed under the tree. “I got a board game, Word Scrabble, and I still play it,” she says.

Asked whether Santa Claus had brought the gifts down the chimney and placed it during the night of December 24, Mary laughs and says, “Uncle, could you point out to me where is the chimney? I am 10 years old, not two. It is a fairy tale.”

On what the word Christmas evokes in her, Mary says, “Christmas tree, gifts, singing, and cards.”

On December 25, she plans to meet up with friends and cousins and play badminton and party games. “But the bad news for me is that as soon as school re-opens, I have examinations,” she says. “So I will have to find some time to do my studies.”

For Mary’s brother, Robert, 8, Christmas means holidays. “I don’t have to go to school,” he says. “Isn’t that wonderful? I also think about the baby Jesus.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

A mix of the sublime and the furious

2011-12-21T14:44:00.001+05:30

'The MeiDhwani' programme by the Attakallari Centre for Movement Arts mesmerises an audience in Kochi

By Shevlin Sebastian

Artistic Director Jayachandran Palazhy of the Bangalore-based Attakallari Centre for Movement Arts steps on the stage at the Fine Arts Hall in Kochi on a Saturday evening. It is the start of ‘MeiDhwani (Echoes of the Body), a contemporary dance production.

Jayachandran is wearing a white tunic and loose white cotton trousers. He sits on the top of a gleaming steel pot, head resting on his hands, looking worried. He stands up and twirls around. Then he stretches out on the ground, his hands reaching out for something, a look of suffering on his face.

Soon, three female dancers – Diya Naidu, Hemabharathy Palani, and Keya Ann D'Souza – wearing white skirts, slit to the waist, with their hair tied up in a top knot join Jayachandran. They also swirl around, pirouetting, like in a ballet, and making powerful leaps and turns. They pick up the steel pots and dance around with it. Then they lie down and balance it between their legs. They get up and sit on top and do leg movements.

"The pots represent feminine energy,” says Jayachandran. And later when male dancers light lamps and place them on top of cylindrical metal stands, Jayachandran says, “Fire acts as a metaphor for male energy, and the destructive power within oneself.”

Indeed, when the male dancers – Ajeesh K B, Denny Paul, Lalit Khatana, Parth Bharadwaj, and Sumesh V M – appear on the scene, they swivel around with great speed, they jump up and dive to the floor. They go around the girls and in between them. They run from one side of the stage to the other, and, sometimes, they hop on their toes. All this is accompanied by the strange, hypnotic, electro-acoustic music of Israeli musicians, Patrick Sebag and Yotam Agam. “It has a Middle East flavour, but also has Indian melodies embedded in it,” says Jayachandran.

The most enthralling section is when Jayachandran does a duet with Hemabharathi, when they flirt and smile and hug each other. At one moment, he lifts her up and she returns the compliment, with the sexual chemistry clearly evident. It is a soothing segment in a programme that looks at the bleak side of life.

“I was concerned about the recent worldwide economic turbulence, as well as the unrest in the Middle East, Africa, and elsewhere,” says Jayachandran. “In India we are going through a rapid, unplanned development and urbanisation. In cities like Bangalore or Mumbai or Delhi, in the time you blink your eyes, a new shopping mall comes up. If you map these changes, through dance, you can get the pulse of contemporary society.”

And, undoubtedly, the dance is mesmerizing and gripping, the sheer skill on display, a feast for the eyes and a balm for troubled souls. The movements are so sharp and energetic that, within minutes, beads of perspiration can be seen on the foreheads of the dancers, while hurried breathing emanates through clenched teeth.

But there are times when the tempo is so languid that there is time to observe a tattoo -- a star, as well as a creeper -- on the left ankle of Diya. In short, it was a mix of the sublime and the furious

And it is clear that a lot of hard work has gone into the production. “It takes about six months to get a dance ready,” says Jayachandran. “There is a lot of creative exchange and training between the dancers and myself. Then I have to work with the music composers, costume and light designers, to add to the visual impact.”

Yes, the one-hour programme had a powerful visual and emotional impact. To know more, check out www.attakkalari.org. Segments can also be seen on You Tube.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

A lonely but devoted companion

2011-12-20T17:00:00.001+05:30

Column: Spouse's Turn

Life has not been easy for Mariamma Chandy, because she is married to a 24/7 career politician, Oommen Chandy, who is now the chief minister of Kerala

Photo credit: Manu R. Mavelil

By Shevlin Sebastian

In January, 1977, Mariamma met Oommen Chandy for the first time at an aunt's home. “He was wearing a white shirt and dhoti, the typical politician's garb,” she says. “What I liked most was that he was a tall man. I also liked his protruding nose.”

Through relatives and friends, Mariamma had heard a lot of positive things about Chandy. “Most importantly, he was not hot-tempered, unlike my father and my brothers,” she says.

But still Mariamma was nervous, simply because Chandy is a politician. “I had the impression that all politicians are bad and corrupt,” she says. “I prayed to God to let the marriage take place only if the person is good. Otherwise, don't make it happen.”

In the end, Mariamma got married to Chandy on May 30, 1977. And like her father and uncles, Chandy turned out to be an upright person. “He does not drink or smoke or have any vices,” she says.

Later, Mariamma observed that Chandy had many other good qualities. “He is an honest and loving person,” she says. “He has never lost his temper in our marriage. No matter what happens, he never loses his cool. He has never shouted or raised his voice at me. This quality is a gift from God.”

So, what are his negative points? “He can never say no,” she says. “In certain situations, he should do so, but he does not.”

And of course, his biggest drawback is that he is hardly ever at home, thanks to an intense 24x7 political career. “Oommen never did his duty as a father,” says Mariamma. “He never held the children in his arms when they were babies. He hardly spoke or scolded them. He never offered advice on what to do in life. He would never say, 'Don't do this, it is not right.' He was always keen to make them happy. But I feel a father should be a bit strict and impose a discipline, coated with love. Eventually, I had to bring them up on my own.” Incidentally, the Chandys have three children: Mariakutty, Achamma, and Chandykunju.

Nevertheless, there must be benefits for the family in being married to a powerful man? “We can get things done quickly,” says Mariamma “Being the wife of Oommen Chandy, I receive a lot of affection from the common man. That is because he is so beloved of the people. When we travel anywhere we always get VIP treatment.”

But what is extraordinary is the financial difficulties that the family has gone through. “My husband is not corrupt,” says Mariamma. “Whatever money he gets he gives it to me, and I had to use it, as well as my salary as a Canara Bank employee to run the household. Sometimes, I was not able to meet the day-to-day expenses. I know people will not believe what I am saying. We have taken car, house, and education loans. We are still paying back some of them. After my retirement as an officer, in 2009, I am dependent on my pension, and the interest from provident and gratuity funds.”

Perhaps the most difficult aspect of her marriage to Chandy has been the many years that Mariamma has lived alone. “I yearned for his presence and to talk to him, but he is never at home,” she says. “I was looking for emotional support, but I was alone all the time. I know this has happened because of his love for the people. But, despite all the difficulties, I love him from the bottom of my heart.”

Asked whether this public figure has a different face at home, Mariamma smiles, and says, “Oommen is the same inside or outside. There is no change at all.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

An Indo-French collaboration

2011-12-19T07:48:00.000+05:30

Jude Mathew fell in love and married Frenchwoman Sofie Debieve. The couple run a social service organisation in Fort Kochi and dwell upon life in France and Kerala

By Shevlin Sebastian

In February, 1997, Jude Mathew met Sofie Debieve while working as an interpreter for the Alliance Francaise (AF) at Thiruvananthapuram. Sofie had come on the invitation of the AF Director, Jean Leturcq, to hold an exhibition of dried flowers. “It seemed as if Sofie was the person I was waiting for,” says Jude.

When Jude invited Sofie for a tea at a roadside shack, she got very excited. “It was my first direct experience of Indians and India,” she says. But no sparks flew between the couple. Soon, Sofie returned to France.

But, six months later, on the invitation of the AF, Jude went to France and eventually to La Rochelle, 500 kms from Paris, where Sofie stayed. They met and this time they fell in love. Jude stayed a couple of months before returning to Fort Kochi, his hometown. After a few months, Sofie came down and spent time with Jude. This went on, till they got married on July 9, 1999, at La Rochelle.

For the first seven years, the couple lived at La Rochelle, where Jude was the manager of a car park. And he was astonished to see French society at close quarters. “The family, which has been the unit of society for thousands of years, no longer exists,” he says. “There is a lack of relations between father, mother, brothers and sisters. People have become individualistic. The cultural festivals have become less. Things have changed because of modern life and the advances of technology.”

The spiritual emptiness is also troubling. “The churches are empty,” he says. “Religion has lost its importance. To fill their spiritual void, the French go to a psychiatrist. Or take sleeping and anti-depression pills like Prozac. For any emotional problem, they try to solve it by popping a pill. They might forget to take food, but they will not miss taking their medicines.”

And Jude is worried by the rising consumerism in Kerala and Indian society. “Once they start earning money, people want their own space, house, and car,” he says. “I can see that the people have no idea of the end result. You become alone and isolated, by following the consumerist way of the West.

Meanwhile, for Sofie, her immersion in Kerala culture has brought a lot of happiness. “Here, people live through the heart,” she says. “They are simple and caring. On the other hand, the French are very intellectual and tend to over-analyse. There is a lot of mental agitation and too much of thinking, thinking, thinking. There is very little emphasis on feelings. I learnt how to love only after I got married to Jude.”

For the past five years, they live six months of the year in Fort Kochi, and the other half in La Rochelle. Their son, Surya, 12, does his studies through the National Centre for Distance Education at a school in La Rochelle.

At Fort Kochi Jude runs a counselling centre, at their home, where he helps troubled people through advice, yoga, and meditation. Sofie runs a tailoring workshop where she gives training to poor women. They make bed sheets, pillow covers, purses, bags, and other accessories which they sell to foreigners. They also have a unit for the physically challenged where they make paper bags and envelopes, which are sent to France.

“We lead fulfilling lives,” says Sofie.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Statements about life

2011-12-15T10:36:00.000+05:30

Children living in conflict zones and a woman with two faces are some of the themes that have been explored in the annual show at the Bindhi Art Gallery

Photos: 'The sound of firing' by N. Balamurali Krishnan and O. Sundar's 'Two Faces of Women'

By Shevlin Sebastian

When N. Balamurali Krishna would go to film festivals, he enjoyed seeing the movies of Palestinian and Iranian directors. “Frequently, I would be touched by the plight of children in these societies,” he says. “They are the victims of random violence, wars, and terrorism.”

And it is these images that have inspired him to do an acrylic on canvas, called 'Sound of firing', which catches the eye at the annual exhibition at the Bindhi Art Gallery, Kochi. It shows a young girl, wearing what seems to be a paavada and blouse, lying on a ledge, with her head resting on her right arm and in restful sleep.

Just behind her is a cement grille, which has numerous butterflies, designed in such a way that you can look through them to the outside. At certain sections, there are yellowish splotches, the result of gunfire. So while she is sleeping, there is darkness outside and conflicts are going on. “This is part of a series called 'Portrait of grilled eyes',” he says. To the viewer, there is an arresting aspect, because of the clear, simple strokes, and the sense of darkness that it conveys.

O. Sundar’s acrylic on canvas, ‘Two Faces of Women’, will have a resonance with men. ‘Only two faces,’ some men might think. ‘A woman has so many facets: straight-faced liars, great actresses, so vain about their looks, vicious, spiteful, jealous, perfectly capable of cool sexual betrayals, and endlessly secretive. And not to forget their sublime qualities: of kindness, love, great motherly instincts, sensitive, beautiful, funny, and a rock in times of crisis. No wonder women drive men to distraction, and even to madness.’

Done in a monochrome black and white, with a dab of blue, it gives a three dimensional effect. “I wanted to show the positive and negative sides of women,” says Sundar. “They are more complicated than men and have a lot of hidden aspects.”

Bindhi Rajagopal, in whose gallery the show is being held, has done an image of a nest, but it hangs by a single thread on an iron rod on the terrace of the building. It clearly indicates the fragility of the nest. At the distance, the congested city can be seen.

Right at the side, near the bottom of the nest, there is a tiny sparrow, its legs entwined around another cement rod, with a piece of straw in its mouth, still in the process of giving the finishing touches. It is a telling image of the state of Kochi, where rampant construction is destroying all traces of Nature. “Even birds are adjusting to the changes and building nests in unusual places,” says Bindhi.

Meanwhile, the Chennai-based Razia Tony’s portrait, 'Varsha', shows a woman with a bare back, looking towards the viewer. At the background, there are forests, while at the bottom of the painting are fresh, white flowers. An acrylic on canvas, it is an evocation of the rainy season. “Varsha represents nature,” says Razia. “I want to show the changing seasons.” Despite being painted in a smudged style, in blues and greens, the eyes of the woman hold you in an unblinking gaze.

Other paintings include those by veterans like C.N. Karunakaran, Rajan M. Krishnan, and Kaladharan, established artistes like Hochimin, Rathidevi, R. Venu, and Satyapal, and youngsters like Nimmy Melvin.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Non-stop insights about India

2011-12-14T09:54:00.000+05:30

Renowned journalist, Mark Tully, in his book, 'Non Stop India', talks about the changes, or lack of it, in India, and why having a superpower ambition is the wrong one for the country

Photo: Mark Tully with TV personality Karan Thapar at the release of 'Non-stop India' in New Delhi

By Shevlin Sebastian

Famed BBC reporter Mark Tully laughs when asked whether he enjoys the post-BBC period more, or his 30-year career as a journalist. Tully retired from the BBC in June, 1994. “When I left the BBC, I told myself the one thing I was really looking forward to, was that, on an evening, I can open a bottle of beer and know that nobody is going to ring me up and order me to do something,” says Tully, while on a brief visit to Kochi. “They might ask me, but I could always say, 'Get lost.'”

He admits that his post-retirement career has been fulfilling: giving talks, hosting the 'Something Understood' programme on BBC Radio 4, which has one million listeners, as well as writing books. His latest, 'Non-Stop India', is an update on what is happening in the country.

“In the government, nothing has changed in the past fifty years,” he says. “If you look at the attitude of the government servant, the word, 'servant' does not come into it. He does not have an attitude of, 'How may I help you, Sir?' Instead, it is a barked, 'What do you want?' There is a lot of arrogance. Treating people like muck. Deliberately making things complicated, to encourage corruption.”

In fact, in the rural areas, the bureaucrat is a more hated figure than the politician. “The poor know that they can boot out the politician every five years,” says Tully. “But the bureaucrat will sit on his seat for 30 years, whether he performs or not.”

And contrary to what we all think, the economic growth has not spread all over the country. “At the way things are going, I am not sure there are enough jobs for everybody,” says Tully. “When people talk about the 'demographic advantage' -- of having such a young population -- I have a fear that this advantage could become a disaster, and lead to violence.”

So this ambition of India wanting to become the next superpower, along with China, is it an illusion?

“Imagine what Mahatma Gandhi would have said if any Indian expressed a desire to become a citizen of a superpower,” says Tully. “He would have been appalled by that. India should aspire to be a country where everyone can enjoy a decent standard of living, education, and health. It should be a nation which should live by its ancient principles. Instead, India is borrowing all its ideas from the West.”

But the West, unfortunately, is in creative and economic decline. “You are right,” says Tully. “People in Europe and America need to remember that civilisations rise and fall. They will be overtaken by other nations.”

But what upsets Tully is the rampant materialism in Europe. “People believe that only material things bring happiness, but that is not true,” he says. “In Britain, there is now a widespread belief that religion is dangerous and bad. Something hugely important is lost when a nation adopts such an attitude.”

So, the veteran broadcaster feels happy when he comes to Kerala. “It has a deeply multi-religious culture, which is wonderful to see,” he says. “In North India, it is much less so. India is also full of talented Malayalis, but, unfortunately, none of them stay in Kerala. I am told trade unionism is still hampering the state's economic growth.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Making the guitar sing

2011-12-11T10:46:00.000+05:30

Ace guitarist Baiju Dharmarajan is on a creative high, after his departure from Motherjane. His collaboration with international percussionist and composer Karshkale will be shown on Star World on Sunday, December 11

By Shevlin Sebastian .

Guitarist Baiju Dharmarajan is excited. At 8 p.m. on Sunday, December 11, on Star World his performance on the Dewarists show will be telecast. This show, sponsored by Dewars scotch whisky company, based in Scotland, is a collaboration of musicians of different genres. So Baiju has played with noted US-based percussionist and composer Karshkale, and Harigovind, a master of the edakka drum at Angadipuram, Malappuram district.

“Karshkale played electronic music, Harigovind hit the drums in his traditional style, while I played rock music,” says Baiju. The song is called ‘Sacred Science’.

Not many people may have heard of Baiju, but in the music world, he has a stellar reputation. On December 1, when the young rock band, ‘Evergreen’, staged a performance at the Children’s Park, opposite the Gold Souk, Kochi, highlighting the dangers of the Mullaperiyar Dam, it was the forty-something Baiju who stole the show.

Dressed casually in a blue T-shirt and jeans, he let rip chords that made the guitar weep, sing, laugh and cry out aloud. Sometimes, his face contorted with the effort. Sometimes, his body shook. And always, the tendons on his arms stood out, as his fingers ran up and down the frets. There was no doubting his extraordinary skill. The piercing sounds pierced the soul. There was a pin-drop silence in the motley crowd of youngsters, middle-aged parents, children, and idle bystanders. In the end, the ‘Evergreen’ kids got a master class in guitar-playing.

Baiju, of course, made his name as the lead guitarist of Motherjane, one of the top bands from Kerala, which had a nation-wide impact. Their original album, ‘Maktub’ became a hit and established the band’s reputation.

“We travelled all over India, doing shows in IIT and engineering colleges,” says Baiju. “There are thousands of professional colleges in the country. It is like a sub-continent.” And the band raked in the moolah. In two-and-a-half years, the five-member team earned Rs 42 lakh. “If you are a top class musician, you can survive easily,” says Baiju, with an easy smile.

But all good things have to come to an end. Differences about the creative direction of the band forced Baiju to opt out of Motherjane in November, 2010. “I have a lot of ambitions,” he says. “I want to move to the next level.”

He has now set up a new band, with a drummer called Sojan, vocalist, Richard Wilson, and bass guitarist Vivian verghese. He is now looking for a keyboard player. In this one year, Baiju has composed 12 songs. “I am in the recording stage,” he says. “Then there will be practice sessions, followed by live shows. It is time-consuming. If you start any business, it takes time to get it moving. It is the same with a band.” Along with this, Baiju is also helping new and upcoming bands like ‘Kaav’ to produce an album. He is like a guru to them.

At a restaurant in Kochi, Baiju looks happy, accompanied by Kaav band members Shyam n pai, and Arun s kumar. “I have no regrets about leaving Motherjane,” says Baiju. “In fact, I have become free. I am able to understand my strengths only after I left. I am a lot more creative now.”

Baiju is the son of Dharmajan, a government servant, who played the Hawaiian guitar as a hobby. Baiju learnt the guitar when he was 13. But his initial musical influences were all Indian. “Thanks to my father, I grew up listening to the ghazals of Mehdi Hasan. shamsad Begum, and Anup Jalota. I also listened to Tamil and Malayalam film music. My all-time favourite is Yesudas.”

And it would be the legendary singer, while giving an interview to the BBC, who would provide a tip that Baiju took to heart. “Music is like a lamp,” Yesudas said. “If you clean the lamp every day and put oil in it, it will glow. But if for a couple of days you do not do anything, immediately, dust will gather and the lamp will lose its glow. That is the same with music. Constant practice is the key to excellence.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

The dark side of society

2011-12-09T17:06:00.001+05:30

At the Domain-0 art exhibition, senior artistes portray the after-effects of war, as well as the impact of development on nature

Photo: C.B. Bahuleyan in front of 'Camoulflage'. Credit: Mithun Vinod.

By Shevlin Sebastian

When artist C.B. Bahuleyan switches on the TV and watches international channels like the BBC, he sees several images of conflicts around the world. It triggered off many memories for him. In 1990, he was in Kuwait when Iraq overran the country. And he saw the effects of that war at close quarters. All these insights has been poured into his acrylic on canvas, ‘Camouflage’.

It is painted in a forbidding grey. At the front, there are the remnants of a crashed Apache helicopter. If you peer closely, you can also see a rusted tank. Bombed-out buildings are there in the background, but, at one side, there is an unusual image: the dome of a nuclear reactor. “Yes, this is the Fukushima nuclear reactor in Japan,” he says. Meanwhile, weeds and grass can be seen growing through the wreckage and making a so-called camouflage.

“There is so much of destruction in our lives,” he says. “And the painting is timely, what with the possible danger to the Mullaperiyar Dam.”

K. Narayanankutty is also looking at life in a bleak manner. His painting of a mangrove forest shows it being devastated, with the roots exposed, and there is a middle area that looks like a desert, with the mud cracked in several places. At the distance are the multi-storeyed buildings that one sees in all the cities of the world.

The most unusual aspect is a longish white object in the middle. One is not clear what it is, till Narayanankutty gives a tip: look at the image from the side of the painting. And suddenly it becomes clear: it is a human skull. Narayanankutty is candid enough to say that he had borrowed the idea from German artist Holbein. The painting is titled, ‘Notes from the Underground’. “It is a stance against rampant development,” he says. “If you look at our history, man is always exploiting and destroying nature.”

Santhoshlal P. M. has done an unusual oil painting. It shows a blue enclosure, with high walls placed on top of what seems to be a paddy field. From the blue sky above, which has numerous clouds, there are white strings that link it to the enclosure. So, what is it symbolic of? It is very difficult to figure out, till Santoshlal says, “It is the number zero -- India ’s contribution to the world and it rests on a field of Roman numerals,” he says. “This is my imaginative look at this great achievement by Indian mathematicians.”

Meanwhile, T.P. Premjee's series is called 'Animal Farm', in a direct allusion to George Orwell's classic book. In one oil painting, there are numerous brown pigs, done in a realistic style, which fill up the canvas. “The pigs resemble people,” he says. “There are too many of us, which causes tension, and fights.” Another work has what seems to be enlarged beans. “It could be fruits or a bomb, or even a large penis.” Finally, there are paintings by K. Sudheesh.

For the visitors, Bahuleyan's 'Camouflage' is the one which catches the eye. “I like the mood in it,” says Winston David, a photographer. Art lover Geeta Mathew says, “Bahuleyan explores many ideas, although destruction seems to be the dominant theme.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

A whirlwind called Shashi

2011-12-06T16:19:00.000+05:30

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Sunanda talks about what it means to be married to Shashi Tharoor, Member of Parliament, best-selling author, and a star on the lecture circuit

Photo: Courtesy, People Magazine

By Shevlin Sebastian

It was in August, 2008, that Sunanda Pushkar met Shashi Tharoor for the first time. There was a function at the Guruvar Awards in Delhi. “Shashi is a patron,” says Sunanda. “I was introduced through a mutual friend, Sanjay Bahal.”

And what struck Sunanda was how relaxed he looked. “Shashi was wearing a multi-coloured kurta,” she says. Thereafter, they remained in touch mostly through SMSs and e-mails. “He is big on e-mails and I am not,” she says. “I would give short replies, and he would laugh and say, 'Why can't you give a long reply'. And I would say, 'I don't have the time.'”

Meanwhile, a month later, they were in New York at the same time. And Sunanda took Shashi to the Cafe Spice restaurant, which serves dosas and thalis. “New York is Shashi’s city because of his 34-year stint in the United Nations,” she says. “So he would go to ‘high-funda’ restaurants, having meals with Presidents, Prime Ministers, ministers, ambassadors, and diplomats.”

They bonded over lunch. It was a time when Shashi was thinking about taking the plunge into politics. “I told him all intelligent people should join politics,” she says. “I was the only one who was encouraging him. Because everybody else was telling him that he was mad, to join Indian politics.”

They went their different ways. Sunanda was busy with her real estate work in Dubai, while Shashi was travelling incessantly. And it would be exactly two years after they met that they tied the knot: on August 22, 2010.

So what is it about Shashi that she likes the most? “His intelligence,” she says immediately. “He gives brilliant speeches, and is never at a loss for words. Afterwards, he takes questions from the audience and answers them easily. I have seen presidents and prime ministers speak. I have attended so many seminars and conferences. But I have never met a man who is so confident and at ease on the stage.”

Secondly, she likes his kind heart. “Shashi was in the UN peacekeeping mission and he would tell me about the genocide that he has witnessed in places like Bosnia, Rwanda, and Kosovo,” says Sunanda. “I have seen a lot of horrors myself, since I am from Kashmir, and I could see that it had really affected him.”

She feels that his one major drawback is his impatience. “But I think impatience can be good,” says Sunanda. “As Prime Minister Manmohan Singh said, ‘We have been voted to power by the youth, who are impatient for change’. Impatience is good, but maybe, at times, it is not so good.”

What has been a revelation for Sunanda is the intense traveling that she has to do.
“We are unable to have a normal, regular life,” she says. “We are always moving about, within and outside India. He is speaking for India in foreign countries so often. He is talking on the lecture circuit. Then when Parliament is functioning, he is busy with that, and don’t forget his work for the Thiruvananthapuram constituency.”

Astonishingly, in the past one-and-a-half years, they have had only one dinner alone, at a five-star hotel in Chennai. “But even then, there were people, like N. Ravi, the owner of ‘The Hindu’ group, who came up to have a chat,” says Sunanda. “My friends ask me how do I manage, but I knew that, by marrying Shashi, I would not be having a normal life. We are always invited to dinner or we invite people ourselves.”

But Sunanda also keeps herself busy, with her work on behalf of the Chandran Tharoor Foundation, named in honour of Shashi’s father. She is setting up numerous public toilets in Thiruvananthapuram.

Asked whether Shashi, the public figure, behaves differently at home, Sunanda laughs and says, “He is exactly the same, inside or out. I tell him that he will fall into problems if he is so open. You have to be very careful about what you say. You are in politics. But he will never listen. He is too much like himself outside, which is why he gets into trouble so often.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

A rose that keeps blooming

2011-12-03T11:52:00.001+05:30

The former and present faculty of St. Teresa's College will be celebrating Sr. Mary Rose's 90th birthday on December 2. The nun was head of the English department for many years

By Shevlin Sebastian

A couple of days ago, Seema Mohan came to see Sr. Mary Rose, the former head of the English department at St. Teresa's College. Sr. Mary Rose remembered her former student, because of one unforgettable incident, which happened 25 years ago.

As a student Seema was a good singer, and was about to go for a programme. Since she had a stomach pain, she took several Crocin tablets. Unfortunately, she suffered from a perforated intestine and had to be rushed to the hospital. “We talked about this and all the happy memories of those days,” says Sr. Mary Rose, who turns 90 on December 2.

On another occasion, she met another former student, Joanne Mathew (name changed). And the nun remembered how in college, Joanne was so bad in English that she could not write a single word properly. But Joanne persisted, with encouragement from Sr. Mary Rose. “Eventually she got a doctorate in English,” says the nun. “It was a proud moment for me.”

So what is the best part of teaching? “It is the heart-to-heart relationship between a student and a teacher which lasts for a lifetime.”

But there are times when Sr. Mary Rose feels bad. A few years ago, she read in the newspaper about a suicide by one of her students. “She stayed in the hostel when I was the warden,” says the nun. “I felt sad that she could not withstand the trials and tribulations of life. It seemed as if my own child had died.”

Sr. Mary Rose has a ramrod back and a sharp mind and can recall names and dates easily. And she remembers the day when she wanted to become a nun. She was in Class eight at the St. Joseph's Girls Higher Secondary School at Alleppey. It was during the Catechism class that Mother Linda casually said, “Jesus Christ has a special love for virgins.” Sr. Mary Rose felt something hit her heart. “I thought to myself, 'Why can't I have that special love?'” she says. “That was the day I developed my vocation to be a nun.”

But it would take years, including opposition from her family, before she became a Carmelite nun. She began her teaching career with stints at St. Joseph's, Alleppey, the Assumption College in Changanacherry, the Holy Cross College in Trichy, before she joined the English department of St. Teresa's College in 1955. She retired as Head of the Department (HOD) in 1982, and continued for another ten years in an unofficial capacity, because her successor had fallen ill. “I taught till I was 70,” she says.

And she has a circle of admirers. “Sr. Mary Rose was a strict disciplinarian,” says Betty Kuriyan, a former HOD. “To create fellowship among the teachers, she would hold monthly gatherings.” Adds Annie Jacob, another HOD, who retired in 2008: “We would be sure that Sr. Mary Rose would not take sides and would be impartial always.”

On December 2, the former and present faculty will be celebrating the ‘Navadi’ (Ninth decade) of Sr. Mary Rose at a function at St. Teresa’s. “There will be a Mass, the cutting of the cake, several felicitations, followed by lunch,” says Betty. “We want to show our appreciation to her.”

(Some names have been changed)

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Nailing the accused

2011-12-01T12:10:00.000+05:30

Notables like Justice V.K. Krishna Iyer, poet Chemmanam Chacko, forensic surgeon, Dr. Sherly Vasu, and Special Prosecutor, A Sureshan, speak about the Soumya murder case

Photo: Govindachamy being led outside the Thrissur fast track court by policemen after receiving the death sentence

By Shevlin Sebastian

At the monthly meeting of writers and artists, 'Poomukham', organised by the Heart Light Association, at Kochi, Justice V.K. Krishna Iyer, 97, clad in spotless white and accompanied by a doctor, says, “The death sentence should not be allowed, except in the rarest of rare cases. Our leaders like Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru rejected it. Half the countries in the world have abolished the death penalty. Life has been given by God and man has no right to take it.”

Justice Iyer was referring to the death sentence imposed by the Thrissur fast-track court on Govindachamy, the convicted killer of Soumya, a young girl who was travelling at night, on the Ernakulam-Shoranur passenger train, on February 1, and was raped and died a few days later.

However, poet Chemmanam Chacko says, “Govindachamy took a life in the most gruesome manner. How do we deal with such a man? Unless there is a strict punishment, people will not behave properly.”

Listening to the speakers is Dr. Sherly Vasu, the senior-most forensic surgeon in the state, who had done the post-mortem on Soumya. Having a daughter of a similar age and travelling regularly on the same route that Soumya travelled, Dr. Vasu could empathise with what happened to the young girl. “The court case is fought on what is written in the post-mortem report,” she says. “So, it is important to do the job in such a way that there is no controversy about it.”

However, controversy did hit the post-mortem team when one of the doctors, A.K. Unmesh, of the Department of Forensic Medicine, Government Medical College, stated in the court, on October 10, that he had done the post-mortem himself.

“In fact, six people, including Dr. Unmesh, took part, and their signatures are there on the report,” says Dr. Vasu. “So I am surprised by his statement. I have no idea why he kept quiet all these months.” The post-mortem had been done on February 7, and Dr. Vasu testified in court about it from July 12-15. Meanwhile, Dr. Unmesh has been suspended from service, and faces an investigation.

Special Prosecutor A. Sureshan says that there are 123 digital photographs of the post-mortem. “It will be difficult for Dr. Unmesh to prove that he did the post-mortem by himself,” he says. “It seems to me that he had wanted to save the accused. If these photographs would not have been there, Dr. Vasu would have been in trouble.”

Sureshan, on dwelling on the case, says that there were 154 witnesses. They included a tribal from Wayanad, an auto-rickshaw driver, commuters, as well as the local people. “It was a brutal assault,” he says. “By the buttons that were seen on the floor of the train, it was clear that Soumya had put up a struggle. Her skull was broken by banging her head against the door. There was massive internal bleeding and her lungs were full of blood. Her teeth had been broken and she inadvertently swallowed it. It was discovered later in her stomach.”

Soumya lay on the tracks, late at night, her clothes ripped off, and the local people discovered her because they heard the large gasping sounds of the young girl trying to breathe.

"In the end it was a great news for me that Govindachamy was convicted, eight-and-a-half months after the murder,” says Sureshan. “Some people called me up and said, 'For a long time we felt that there were no courts or justice in this country. But now our faith is re-affirmed.' This judgement will have a healing effect on society.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

We are like this only

2011-11-30T08:22:00.000+05:30

Eunuchs and members of the transgender community explain their point of view

Photo: This is a representative picture of transgenders

By Shevlin Sebastian

It is a bit disconcerting to see Nawaz. He is wearing a green blouse and a cream-coloured Kerala saree with a gold border. His face is plastered white with make-up. And he is wearing a long-haired wig. However, his hands are hairy and muscular.

“When I was a child I liked the company of girls,” he says. “I would go with them to school and play games like hopscotch. My relatives would tease me and ask me why I was behaving so effeminately. Because of the taunts, I wanted to commit suicide many times. I had even placed a blade against my wrists. I felt so humiliated and cried many times at night.”

It was when he was 18 that Nawaz became a member of the Partnership for Sexual Help Project. “There I met others like me and no longer felt isolated,” he says. “I finally understood why I was behaving the way I did.”

But society treats transgenders with a lack of respect. Just the other day Nawaz was strolling in Subhash Park, at Kochi, which is a meeting-place of the community. Suddenly, a policeman swooped down and asked Nawaz what he was doing. “Before I could reply, he pulled at my bag,” says Nawaz. “I shouted back and he understood that I could not be bullied.”

However, ten minutes later, another policeman just put his hand inside Nawaz’s shirt pocket and took Rs 200. “Our body language gives us away all the time,” he says, with a sad smile.

Nawaz was talking at the 'Probodhini-11' seminar organised by Marvell Pehchan Project at Kochi recently. “It is a sensitisation programme for law students about the eunuch and transgender community,” says Marvell Project Officer Manu J. Krishnan.

Dilfaraz, the Advocacy Officer of the Bangalore-based Sangama, a sexual minority group, says, “According to a survey, the maximum number of homosexuals in India are in Kerala. Sexual activity usually takes place between young men and also with husbands.”

He pleaded with the audience -- boys and girls who are interns with the Human Rights Law Network -- to treat gays with respect. “If you know of any gays in your family, among relatives, and in the college, please don't neglect them. Do take them to the doctor when they are ill.”

Dilfaraz says that from the time they are children, gays and transgenders have a tough time. “Parents conduct pujas to cure the boy,” he says. “Please understand that they are born like this. We would be grateful if you can refer them to organisations like Sangama or Marvell. We are there to help them.”

What was astonishing to know was that in India transgenders have no property rights. “So a lot of them are unable to own anything,” he says.

Among the gays and transgenders present, there were feminine as well as muscular men, as well as a man who wore red lipstick and had hair growing all the way down his back.

Meanwhile, for the law students, it was an eye-opening experience. “Initially, it was a bit weird because Nawaz was wearing a shirt and trousers and then, suddenly, he changed into a saree,” says Radha Nair (name changed), an intern. “But it was clear to us that they are suffering a lot. It is difficult to live on the margins of society.”

For Seetha Bose, it was an unusual event. “I never knew there are so many sub-divisions among the sexual minority groups,” she says. “Society is unwilling to accept them, but I will always support them.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Living with a comic genius

2011-11-29T14:23:00.000+05:30

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Vimala Sreenivasan says that her husband, film star Sreenivasan, is a child at heart, but a tough person on the sets

Photo: Sreenivasan and his wife Vimala on their 25th wedding anniversary

By Shevlin Sebastian

Vimala Mandodi would walk down a road to catch a bus to go to the Nirmalagiri College in Kuthuparambu, in Kannur district. Often, she would see a short, dark man who would be heading in the same direction. Every now and then the man would ask, ‘Is the bus on time?’ or ‘How are your studies?” Vimala would reply in monosyllables. It was only after a year that they began talking to each other. At that time, in 1974, film star Sreenivasan was a teacher in a tutorial college. “We liked each other from the beginning,” she says.

Very soon, Vimala realized that cinema was Sreenivasan’s passion. One day, he told her that he was going to the Film Institute in Chennai to do a course. Thereafter, he would send an occasional letter to Vimala stating his financial difficulties.

“Since his father did not accept his choice of career, he would not send much money,” says Vimala. “Sreenivasan's father wanted him to do his B.Ed and become a teacher. However, one of his uncles sent him a little bit of money and he managed to complete the course.”

In the meanwhile, Vimala qualified to become a teacher. When marriage proposals came, Vimala had to finally tell her own father that she had fallen in love with Sreenivasan. He was aghast. “My father felt that my husband would go after actresses and ruin my life,” she says.

But Vimala was adamant. Nevertheless, it took ten years before the couple could tie the knot, on January 13, 1984. All along, Sreenivasan was struggling to make a mark in the film industry. Meanwhile, within months of the marriage, Vimala became pregnant with son Vineeth. And it was just after he was born, that Sreenivasan starred in the first film he wrote, Oodarathuammava Aalariyam.

“Thereafter, there was no looking back,” says Vimala. Sreenivasan has acted in many popular films like ‘T. P. Balagopalan M.A.’, ‘Sanmanassullavarkku Samadhanam’, ‘Gandhinagar 2nd Street, ‘Nadodikkattu’, ‘Mukunthetta Sumitra Vilikkunnu’, ‘Varavelpu’, and ‘Thalayanamanthram’.

So what are the plus points of Sreenivasan as a husband? “Sreeni Chettan has always given me complete freedom,” says Vimala. “He has never said no to my personal wishes. If I want a new saree he will always say yes. If I wanted to go somewhere, it is a yes. On the other hand, I can see so many restrictions placed by the husbands of my friends.”

Vimala says that she always likes to wear salwar kameez, although people have told her she looks better in a saree. “Once I said, ‘Chettan, everybody tells me that I look nice in a saree. What is your opinion?’”

Sreenivasan said, “There is no doubt you look good in a saree.” But he has never insisted that his wife should wear one.

Vimala considers her husband’s spendthrift ways as a plus point. “Sreeni Chettan spends a lot when he has money,” she says. “I believe that if you have money, you should spend it. On this matter, we are both alike. If there is little money, he will say this is all what I have, and we have to control our spending.”

Vimala also admires her husband’s humility. “His character has not changed at all from the time I knew him during my college days,” she says. “In fact, the more successful he has become, the more humble he is in his personal life. Please don’t think I am praising him just because he is my husband. He is an innocent man inside. But if there is any mistake in his professional career, Sreeni Chettan can get very tough and angry.”

Because her husband is a creative artist, Vimala stays away from that aspect of his life. So when he is writing a script, Sreenivasan will live for three weeks at a stretch in a hotel. “Most of the time the mobile phone is switched off,” she says. “Only when Sreeni Chettan has finished his day’s work, will he call me.”

In fact, Vimala is so careful not to disturb Sreenivasan that when her two sons, Vineeth and Dhyan were children and they would fall sick, she took them to the doctor herself. “I would only inform Sreeni Chettan when the illness was over,” she says. “It is very important for an artist to have a happy atmosphere at home and that is what I have strived to do all the time.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

'There are more Indian best-sellers now'

2011-11-26T10:26:00.000+05:30

Says Andrew Phillips, the CEO and President of Penguin India

Photo: Ravi Deecee of DC Books, (left) with Andrew Phillips at the newly opened Penguin book store in Kochi

By Shevlin Sebastian

Andrew Phillips, the CEO and President of Penguin India, is upbeat about the market in India. “We are growing by 10 per cent every year,” he says. “However, the Indian market has the lowest prices in the world, because buyers are very price-conscious. The average price for the top 500 titles is Rs 270.”

Despite that, Penguin took a risk by placing Amitav Ghosh’s ‘River of Smoke’, the second book in his Ibis trilogy, at a steep Rs 699. “Nevertheless, the novel has been the highest-selling in the literary fiction genre this year,” he says. ”We are happy about that and realized that there is a niche audience who is willing to spend money to read high-quality fiction.”

Non-fiction is also doing well. “One of our best-selling titles this year is ‘The TCS Story…and beyond' by S Ramadorai, the vice-chairman of the company,” says Andrew. “It is about the great success story of the Tata Consultancy Services. There is an appetite among people to read Indian authors who write well and, secondly, to hear about local success stories from the business world.” Incidentally, the No. 1 on the non-fiction best-seller list today is Vinod Mehta's 'Lucknow Boy', which is also published by Penguin.

Unlike in the past, many more Indian authors are writing best-sellers. “The reason is simple,” says Andrew. “Firstly, there are more books by Indians. Secondly, there are more book shops, more publishers, and more readers.” However, Western writers continue to make a mark. Jeffrey Archer’s latest novel, ‘Only Time Will Tell’, has also sold very well, apart from the Harry Potter books, which has been a phenomenon in India.

But does Penguin India miss a writer like Chetan Bhagat, who is published by Rupa, and is selling millions of copies? Andrew is unfazed, and says, “We have Ravinder Singh, whose debut novel, ‘I Too Have a Love Story’ has done very well. His new book, ‘Can Love Happen Twice?’ will be released soon. Ravinder has been the biggest-selling mass-market author after Chetan.”

But the market is changing. E-books are rapidly making inroads, especially in the US. “Yes, the growth in the US has been relentless,” says Andrew. “Everything else increases by 10 percent, but e-books have been growing by 100 per cent every year. However, it is much slower in every other country, including the UK, but, recently, I am told, sales have begun to take off in England as well.”

In India, one of the keys for a digital revolution will be to have a cheap e-book device. “In the US the e-book took off, because of the sale of Kindle devices,” says Andrew. “More recently, the Nook, as well as the I Pad has also come up. Between them, millions of units have been sold. In India, if a cheaper gadget arrives, and sells a lot, then Indian publishing will be changed.”

But Andrew is not worried. “In the US we have started digital publishing,” he says. “Most authors realise that there is still a valuable place for the publisher even in the digital format. You need somebody to edit the copy, to make it look presentable, and, more importantly, for marketing, distribution and sales. Without a publisher’s reach, it is difficult for an author to make a mark.”

Penguin opens a bookstore in Kochi

As soon you enter the Bay Pride mall, on Marine Drive, Kochi, there are plastic footprints, in the familiar orange of the Penguin book jacket, placed on the floor. It leads us to the first floor, where a 2700 sq. ft. store has been inaugurated by Andrew Phillips, the CEO and President of Penguin India recently. It is a spacious store, and, perhaps, its USP is that one side, glass-paned, with an elevated stage, faces the sea; the sight is soothing and elevating.

So, why a book store in Kochi, and not in Delhi, Chennai, or Mumbai? Says Andrew: “In Kerala, you have a high literacy rate. We have been working with [CEO] Ravi Deecee of DC Books. And we felt that it would be a great partnership to bring the Penguin imprint to the biggest book chain in Kerala.”

Chiki Sarkar, the publisher, gives another reason: “We want to be in places where there are not too many book stores. Then you can immediately carve out a niche.” And of course, it helps that Kerala has two major book shows: the Kovalam and the Hay festivals. “It is a book-loving state,” says Chiki.

Hemali Sodhi, vice-president, marketing and corporate communications, says, “We are going to launch merchandise like caps, mugs and stationery. Our aim is to project the Penguin brand.” Meanwhile, Ravi Deecee has plans to make it a cultural hot-spot. “There will be monthly author readings, contests, and readings for children,” he says.

(The new Indian Express. Kochi)

Going back to our mathematical roots

2011-11-24T16:14:00.000+05:30

Premanand Keeriyat is propagating Vedic Maths, which can be used without pen and paper, and takes a fraction of the time of Western maths

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Premanand Keeriyat was sitting for his Common Admission Test in the 1990s, he found it difficult to crack it. He felt there was something wrong with Western mathematics. Thereafter, he came across German Jew Jakow Trachtenberg's method of speed maths. “But I was not completely happy with this system,” he says.

One day, he read an article in 'The New Indian Express' by the former Prime Minister Narasimha Rao. In it, he wrote that he had gone on a visit to Liverpool University and was astonished to discover that Indian maths was being taught there.

“In fact, the principal introduced me as a person who came from the land of Vedic maths,” wrote the prime minister. Thereafter, Rao described the wonder of Vedic maths, and mentioned the name of Swami Bharati Krishna Tirthaji, a scholar and the head of the Govardhan Math at Puri, Orissa.

Premanand began researching about Tirthaji. “Swamiji wrote 16 volumes on mathematics, but only one book is available to the world,” he says. “Many mathematicians from England and Germany stayed with him and learned Vedic techniques.”

So Premanand began learning the methods himself. “There are 13 sutras and 16 sub sutras,” he says. “A sutra is an oral formula. These sutras, when applied correctly, will enable the user to solve many types of maths problems mentally without using pen and paper, and in the fraction of the time it would take in Western mathematics.”

A desire arose in Premanand to pass this knowledge to students. “Once you learn the techniques, it is so easy,” he says. “Children will grow to love it.” So he has spent four years in making a multi-media kit of 9 DVDs, tackling multiplication, division, subtraction, addition, finding the square root, etc.

He inserts a CD into his Dell laptop. And soon we are in a forest where a river is flowing smoothly by, as a white-haired sage, with a top knot, is sitting below a tree and passing knowledge to a bright-eyed student. There are trees all around, and the chirping of birds can be heard. “I have made it completely interactive, so that children can enjoy, even as they are learning new techniques,” he says.

But Premanand is facing an uphill battle. “Since very few know about Vedic maths, they are unwilling to accept these innovative methods, which are thousands of years old,” he says. “Many school principals and teachers express interest, but, somehow, only a few have started teaching it.” But he is unfazed, because he is convinced about the greatness of the subject.

“I want to increase the numerical ability of the students,” he says. “Once they start using it, they will understand the beauty and power of Vedic maths. I am hoping one day the government will start using Vedic maths in our curriculum, research applications, and daily life.”

Meanwhile, notables of the past have endorsed it. Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru in his book, 'Discovery of India', wrote: 'The astonishing progress that the Indians had made in mathematics is now well known and it is recognised that the foundations of modern arithmetic and algebra were laid long ago in India. The ten Indian numerals, including the zero sign, liberated the human mind. They are common enough today and we take them for granted. But it took many centuries for them to travel from India, via Baghdad, to the western world.'

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Having wine and enjoying art

2011-11-23T08:39:00.000+05:30

In the 'Art and Wine' exhibition, the works of veterans shared spared space with young talents

Photo: Radha Gomathi's sculpture, 'Hymavathi'

By Shevlin Sebastian

At the 'Art and Wine' exhibition, held at the Ramada Resort, Kochi, a fibreglass sculpture by Radha Gomathi catches the eye. It is the face of Hymavathi [another name for Shiva's consort, Parvati], and is painted in a deep chocolate brown. Hymavathi looks serene, with deep-set closed eyes, soft cheeks, a sharp nose and pouting lips. Just above the ears, there are two horns sticking out. And right in the middle of the forehead, there is a mountain peak rising up towards the sky.

The inspiration behind the sculpture is interesting. Radha had gone to Gaumukh, the mountain glacier from where the River Ganga begins. But just before the peak, she stopped beside a river and saw a pair of weathered horns floating on the surface. “It belonged to mountain goats who seemed to have perished in the icy torrents,” says Radha. “The image of the horns merged with Hymavathi's quest for Lord Shiva.”

Radha made the mountain to indicate that the desire to reach the peak and find God is within all of us. “We are all seeking an union with the Great Self,” she says. Onlookers who know Radha say the features of Hymavati resemble the Kochi-based artist herself. Radha laughs and says, “That was an unconscious effect.”

Radha's acrylic on canvas, 'Presence', is about a spiritual search. Drawn from the side, a nude woman stands, with long brown hair flowing down her back. She has a half-open mouth, and upraised hands, but interestingly, has closed eyes, and is searching for something. To accentuate the nudity, a part of the left breast, as well as a brown nipple can be seen. “She is searching for God, or the universal energy,” says Radha. “In other words, she is a spiritual aspirant.”

Veteran artist V.B. Venu's painting, 'Contemplative Bridges', is an examination of life. A bare-chested man is sitting on the ground. A cream-coloured face has been half-imposed on a darker one.

“Everybody has two faces: an inner and outer,” says Venu. A ladder is placed against the body and the top end rests on the left shoulder. There are figures of men going up the steps. Some are falling off, with flailing arms and legs. “The ladder signifies the path of success,” he says. “Everybody is trying to go up. Not all succeed. Some fail.”

C. N. Karunakaran's work is of a tribal settlement, with a husband and wife standing next to each other and discussing family matters, while children are sitting on the forest floor, including a teenage girl, wearing an orange necklace and with exposed breasts.

“There were times when painting camps would be held near tribal areas in Wayanad,” says Karunakaran, a former chairman of the Kerala Lalitakala Academy. “I saw their lives from a distance and wanted to portray them. I also wanted to express my sympathy for the marginalised people.”

As for senior artist T. Kaladharan, his glass painting is called 'Orma' (Memory). Green faces float about in a sea of red: he is remembering old friends during the sunset of life.

The other participants included Biju Kumar V.K. as well as bright young talents like Linu John and Nimmy Melvin.

Earlier, the show was inaugurated by K. Ramachandran Nair, the MD of Chitram Art Gallery, who said, “Art and wine can go together provided there is self control. We have seen many artistes and painters who have succumbed to wine. So self-discipline is very important.” However, thanks to free-flowing wines from Sula, self-discipline became an alien concept on a pleasant evening.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Getting too close and paying the price

2011-11-22T14:29:00.000+05:30

Teenage sex is on the increase, in Kochi, with disturbing consequences for young girls

By Shevlin Sebastian

“Ma, Reema is celebrating her birthday at the Oberon Mall,” says Manisha, to her mother, Sheela, a bank officer at 9 a.m. on a Saturday, a year ago. “Will have lunch and come back.”

“Okay,” says Sheela, as she hurriedly dabs lipstick, before she sets out for the MG Road branch at Kochi.

But Manisha, 15, has no birthday party to attend to. Instead, she is meeting Rahul, all of 25. Firstly, they are planning on seeing a film at the Cinemax, then lunch, and, thereafter, it is off to Rahul's parents' apartment. His father and mother lives in Dubai. Rahul is working in an IT firm in Kakkanad, and his weekends are free. Rahul has told the watchman that Manisha is his cousin sister, and so his suspicions have been allayed.

The sex has been going on for a while. “I always used the I-pill,” Manisha later tells psychologist Prakash Chandran. “But on days I forget, Rahul had no problem in using a condom. We have been careful.”

But what Manisha has not been careful about is her emotional reaction. She soon falls in love with Rahul and in her idle moments at home would slip into a reverie about marriage and children. Unfortunately, Rahul does not think along the same lines.

A couple of months ago, he breaks up with Manisha and is now friendly with another girl. Manisha has slipped into a deep depression. Very soon, her performance goes down in school. Her worried parents take her to the psychologist.

“Teenage sex is alarmingly on the increase,” says Prakash. “I know of a girl, Deepa, who is just 13 and is having sex with an eighteen-year-old.” It happened by accident. The elder sister, Prema, 18, had got friendly with Ramesh, 22. So, she took her younger sister along, for dates, so that their parents would not suspect.

Ramesh then introduced another friend, Soman to Deepa and they began an affair, which led to a sexual involvement for the teenager. As time went on, Prema broke up with Ramesh, but Deepa is still going strong.

“For the men it is just fun,” says Prakash. “When they get another girl, they will abandon the first. Slowly, girls will also develop the same attitude and that will be damaging in the long run, especially when they get married.”

At Prakash's clinic, a call comes on his mobile. It is yet another teenager, Rekha, 15, who wants to have a chat. In the course of the conversation, Rekha speaks about a pub in a well-known restaurant, where boys and girls get together to have drinks.
“There is drug-taking also,” she says. “My friends are regulars and there is a lot of kissing and hugging. Some of them later find places where they can have sex.”

On another day, the watchman at the entrance to the Gold Souk mall confirms that many youngsters, boys and girls, frequent the ‘Q’ multiplex, especially for the morning shows. “They seem to be romantically involved,” he says.

For all the romantic problems the teenagers are facing, Prakash blames the parents. “Most of them have blind belief,” he says. “You have to trust your children, but at the same time, you need to be vigilant. When your daughter goes to the mall, follow her and see what is happening. Is she really meeting her girlfriends or is it a boy? Even if your daughter gets upset, if she sees you, do remember you are trying to protect her life.”

One such father did follow his daughter and got a shock when he saw her holding hands with a man. He intervened. “We don't know how to be strict with the children,” says Prakash.

To top that, parents send out confused signals about values. “The father will say one thing and the mother will say the opposite,” says Prakash. “So, the children cannot distinguish between right and wrong.”

But what is also deeply affecting the behaviour of youngsters is the pervasive influence of the media, and the easy access to Internet porn. “We no longer value our traditional culture,” says Prakash. “We are adopting Western ways which is bad for us.”

Prakash counsels parents to get far more involved in their children's lives. “They should be aware of their strengths and weaknesses,” he says. “Children should feel that there is love. Parents assume that by giving material gifts it is love. But that is not enough. Showing and giving love is far more important. It will prevent children from going down self-destructive paths.”

(Some names have been changed)

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

Wine = bottled poetry

2011-11-20T10:19:00.000+05:30

Rajeev Samant talks about why Sula Vineyards is the leading wine company in India and how from Silicon Valley he ended up growing wine in Nasik

By Shevlin Sebastian

Rajeev Samant, the CEO of the Nasik-based Sula Vineyards is trying to get used to the unusual ways of the Kerala State Beverages Corporation (KSBC). The company gets paid only after shops and hotels, which buy the consignment from the KSBC, have sold the last bottle.

“All out-of-state beverages have to be sold through the KSBC,” he says. “Kerala is not the most remunerative of markets, but our sale has been doubling every year now. So clearly, wine drinking is catching on in Kerala.”

Top five-star hotels like The Taj and the Casino Group stock the wines. Not surprisingly, 70 per cent of the sales in Kerala are Sula wines and that is the position all over India . “This year we have had nation-wide sales of 5 lakh cases,” he says. “We expect a 20 per cent growth for the next decade.”

At the Holiday Inn in Kochi, Rajeev comes across as intense, focused, and passionate about wines. And his life has panned out in a way that he could not have imagined.

Rajeev grew up in Mumbai, where he studied in Cathedral & John Cannon, one of the best schools in the country. Later, he went to Stanford University where he got a master’s degree in engineering management and joined Oracle Corporation in Silicon Valley. Soon, he got himself a nice car and house.

“It was a great life, and there were no complaints,” he says. “But after a few years, I felt an inner dissatisfaction. I wanted to go back and do something in India.”

In 1992, a few months after his return, his father, a shipping entrepreneur took him to Nasik and showed him a 25 acre plot that he was trying to sell. Only wild grass grew on it. “I told my dad not to sell it,” he says. “The place looks so beautiful. I wanted to try something new.’”

Rajeev began with mangoes. But when he told his friends in wine-growing California that he was doing farming, they assumed it was grapes. “I thought, ‘ Nasik is full of grapes’”, says Rajeev. “If grapes are being grown for eating, surely it can be used to make wine. I am the right guy in the right place.’”

Nasik, at 600 metres above sea level, is, indeed, the right place. It has a cool and dry climate. All through the year, except for April and May, the evenings are cool. “Warm days and cool nights are what grapes love,” he says. “They like a big difference between day and night. That is what gives them the complexity. The night cool allows the flavours to come out, while the day heat allows the ripening to happen. And the two things together are an unbeatable combination.”

He produced the first wines in 1999, but there were no takers. “There was no wine culture in India then,” he says. “People asked me why they should buy my fairly expensive Indian wine, at Rs 450 a bottle, when they were getting cheap bootlegged French wine, at Rs 300. I had to go door to door and say, 'Taste my wine versus the French wine, and see which is better'.”

He got his breakthrough when Rahul Akerkar, the owner of Indigo, one of Mumbai's finest restaurants, said, “I like your wine and will support you.” And he put it on the list.

Says Rahul, “It was important for me to help homegrown entrepreneurs." Regarding the plus points of Sula wines, Rahul says, "Sula wines are well-made and quality driven wines and can hold their own against similar wines produced anywhere in the world.”

Then Mr. Lam, who was in charge of the Food and Beverages for the entire Taj hotel group, also put it on the list. The Oberoi hotel chain followed soon. “Thereafter, there was no looking back,” says Rajeev.

Today, Sula makes red, white, rose and sparkling wines, under different brand names (see www.sulawines.com). But Indians prefer the fresher, fruitier red wines with a slightly stronger taste, because they are used to spices in the diet and the heat.

Meanwhile, Rajeev is traveling all around the country to create a wine culture. “We will do 1500 tastings this year,” he says. “That is the only way to create a widespread awareness of wine.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Becoming the nucleus in Maradu

2011-11-19T13:51:00.000+05:30

The Abad Nucleus mall, at Maradu, Kochi, celebrated its first anniversary recently. A look at the its attractions

By Shevlin Sebastian

On most weekends, the Thevara-based Sheela Abraham goes to the Abad Nucleus Mall in Maradu, Kochi. She is accompanied by her two children, Beena, 10, and Roshan, 8. “It takes me only ten minutes to reach the mall,” says Sheela, whose husband spends six months on a ship. “The Nucleus is much less crowded and frenetic, as compared to other malls in the city. There is ample space to walk around, and it is clean and fresh inside.”

Dr. Najeeb Zacharia, the MD of Abad Builders will be pleased to hear this. The mall completed one year on November 5. It has a leasable area of 1.25 lakh sq. ft., spread over four floors. Ninety per cent of the space has been rented out. Among the places that Sheela frequents are the Food Bazaar, the Food Court, DC Books, and the Max clothing shop.

Dinesh N.R., Operations Manager of Max, says that nearly half of the people who come to the mall end up visiting their shop. “We are happy about it,” he says. “But we expect a larger number, when more retailers come in.” At present, 48 shops have been rented out, out of a total of 60.

They include well-known brands like Peter England, Lee, Navigator, Levis, Wrangler, Music World, Fab India, Adidas, Archies, John Miller, and Jockey. “Five more will become operational soon,” says Najeeb. “Usually, it takes two years for a mall to reach full occupancy.”

Looking back, it seemed a risky and unusual move to set up a mall at Maradu, quite far away from the city centre. “But there are advantages,” says Riaz Ahmed, the MD of Abad Hotels. “The most essential attribute for the success of a mall is its accessibility.”

There are three easy ways to reach Abad Nucleus: from National Highway 49, from Pettah, and through the new Tripunithara bypass. “The majority of our customers come from Thevara, Tripunithara, Mattancherry, Fort Kochi, Aroor, Kolencherry and Chotannikara,” says Riaz. “They find Nucleus an ideal location.”

The mall gets about 10,000 visitors on the weekends. And most of them come on cars and two-wheelers. “There is a parking facility for 320 cars and 150 two-wheelers,” says Najeeb. This is available in the front, at the side, in the basement and the terrace, for which there are two car lifts.

But what the Abad management is most proud of is that the Nucleus is a green mall, the first in India to get a Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design certificate from the USA.

“During the construction we used materials which are environment-friendly like low Volatile Organic Compound paints,” says Riaz. “It is a non-pollutant. All water is recycled and there is a 40 per cent decrease in the consumption of energy. We also maintain high indoor air quality. It translates into a better atmosphere inside the mall.”

To create an even better atmosphere, the management is planning to come up with innovations, like a new 6D cinema. When you view a 6D film, you will actually experience events like rains or storms, similar to what the onscreen characters are going through.

“It is far more advanced than 3D, and will be a stunning experience for the viewer,” says Najeeb. “We expect it to be a big crowd-puller.”

To control the crowds, the mall has set up a secure environment. There are over 100 cameras in all the common areas, the parking facilities and the elevators. Recently, one woman lost her purse. It slipped out of the cloth bag that she was carrying. Thanks to surveillance cameras, the security personnel were able to locate the precise location where the wallet had fallen, and was able to return it to the owner.

Meanwhile, linked with the anniversary, a two-month long carnival has begun, with variety entertainment and activities, apart from weekly prizes and a bumper prize of a car.

These are all moments of happiness, but for the management their proudest feeling is that, thanks to the mall, more than 500 people have got direct employment. And the presence of Nucleus is having a spill-over effect in the area. New buildings and shops are coming up.

“The Nucleus is becoming the nucleus of Maradu,” says Riaz.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Scenes from a marriage

2011-11-14T22:17:00.000+05:30

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Poornima talks about what it is like to be married to popular actor Indrajith Sukumaran

By Shevlin Sebastian

In August, 1999, Poornima Indrajith was coming down the stairs of a bungalow in Thiruvananthapuram. “I had just finished shooting an emotional scene [for K.K. Rajeev’s 'Peythozhiyathe'] and I had put too much of glycerine in my eyes,” she says. So, she had bloodshot eyes, and a swollen face, and was wiping away the tears. She felt a boy gaze at her. Soon, her colleague, Mallika Sukumaran, told her, “Poornima, this is my son Indrajith.”

She said, “Hello.” Indrajith was wearing a dark blue t-shirt and jeans, and had square-rimmed spectacles. “He had neatly combed air, and looked like a well-behaved schoolboy,” she says.

At that time Indrajith was doing his studies at the Nagercoil Engineering College and had come to collect his mother.

What stimulated Poornima's liking was that although Indrajith looked very much like Mallika, he had a prominent cleft. “That reminded me of his father, the late superstar Sukumaran,” she says. “My mother and I are such big fans.”

They got talking and began a courtship. “It was not love at first sight,” she says. “In fact, it was very casual, as we were both just 20 years old.” But, evidently, the couple clicked as a pair, and they got married on December 13, 2002. “You might wonder why the marriage date is the ‘unlucky 13th’, and the answer is that it is my birthday, and I have been very lucky,” says Poornima.

Nine years later, they have two girls, Praarthana, 7, and Nakshatra, 2. And while Indrajith is busy with his career as an actor, Poornima plays the dual roles of mother and TV anchor.

So what is it like to be married to a celebrity? “I am there in the limelight, along with my husband, but he has to work very hard,” she says. “Many times he is out there in the sun and the rain, during filming, and it is not easy at all.” But what is not surprising is the loss of privacy that the couple feels keenly about. “Whenever I go on the set, we become very conscious because people are staring at us and aiming their mobile cameras,” she says. “It is very uncomfortable.”

They are unable to take the children for long walks, or play in the park and eat roadside snacks. “How do we do it, without getting disturbed or stared at?” says Poornima.

But sometimes, they do find a way out. Like when they go for the late night show at the multiplexes. “We enter just after the film begins and rush out when the credits are rolling,” says Poornima, with a laugh. “Having said all this, there are more advantages than disadvantages of being a celebrity.”

They are also glad that they are in jobs for which they have a liking. “When your profession becomes your passion, life becomes superb,” she says. “You just enjoy what you are doing.”

And Poornima is all praise for Indrajith, the human being, who rarely loses his calm, even under the most difficult of circumstances. “He is very patient,” says Poornima. “Indrajith will go to an extent where you will ask, ' Why is this guy not reacting?'. It is a great plus point regarding a man, but it can also be a negative trait. Because when he has to talk back, he does not.”

But when it comes to children, Indrajith can react strongly. Around two months ago, Poornima, her mum, and Mallika, were sitting and chatting at home. Suddenly, one of their daughters, Nakshatra, ate a nut and it got stuck in the throat.

Before Poornima could react, Indrajith rushed out from another room, held Nakshatra upside down, and tapped the back very hard. “Thankfully, the nut came out,” she says. “Thereafter, he fired all of us. He said, 'Up to a certain age, whatever happens to children is your responsibility. As a mom, you should always be aware of your children at all times.'”

But, sometimes, Poornima also gets angry with Indrajith, because of his habit of smoking. “My husband accepts that smoking is a bad habit,” she says. “Still, he has four or five every day. Chain smokers might laugh, but from a wife's perspective, this is a high number.”

Asked whether she misses acting, Poornima says, “I am happy with what I have, and I try to enjoy every moment of my life.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

Dulquer Salman steps into the spotlight

2011-11-14T21:58:00.000+05:30

Mammooty's son is acting as the hero in his debut film, 'Second Show', which is releasing in January, 2012

By Shevlin Sebastian

Dulquer Salman, the son of superstar Mammooty, has been launched into the public spotlight at an elaborate function at the Le Meridien hotel in Kochi on Thursday night. The occasion was the market launch of the film, ‘Second Show’, in which Dulquer makes his debut as a hero, paired with another newcomer, Gauthami Nair.

The audience comprised members of the Malayalam film industry, which included superstar Dileep, veteran film director, Sibi Malayil, and young actress Rima Kallingal, politicians like State Excise Minister K. Babu and former Transport Minister Jose Thettayil, apart from corporate professionals.

The crew was introduced through a catwalk demonstration led by models wearing tight yellow and red skirts and long black and silver stiletto heels. What was astonishing to see was that the team, including director Srinath Rajendran, is in their twenties. “80 per cent of the crew comprises first-timers,” says Srinath.

When Dulquer stepped onto the stage, many were seeing him for the first time. He has nice cheekbones, a sharp nose, soft red lips and a laid-back presence. He wore an open black jacket, with a blue handkerchief sticking out of the pocket, blue jeans and gleaming black leather shoes.

“There is no doubt that Dulquer is handsome,” says Rima. “But as the son of Mammooty, he will have to bear the burden of high expectations.”

Off stage, Dulquer smiled easily, as people came up to shake his hand. One bespectacled man simply said, “Pappi Appacha.” It was the film's director, Mamas Chandran. “Oh hello,” Dulquer said, with an amused grin.

Earlier, a teaser clip from 'Second Show' gave no indication of whether Dulquer has screen presence, charisma, or talent. But Dileep said, “The reports that we have received so far indicate that Dulquer has given a good performance. I wish him all the best. And I entreat the audience to not only see the second show, but also the morning, noon, matinee, and evening shows.”

‘Second Show’ has been made by AOPL Entertainment on a budget of Rs 3.5 crore. “The film is about getting second chances in life, in romance, and even in revenge,” says director Srinath. “Dulquer plays Lalu, who is willing to do any kind of job to survive. The story is inspired by real-life events.”

‘Second Show’ is slated to be released in January 2012.

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

A feast of biryani

2011-11-11T22:42:00.000+05:30

The Spice Route restaurant in the Oberon Mall is having a 'Biryani Galore' festival

By Shevlin Sebastian

On a Sunday night, chef N. Shrikantan is having a busy time. There are several patrons who have come to take part in the 'Biryani Galore' Fest at the Spice Route restaurant at the Oberon Mall. “Since biryani eating is getting popular, we decided to have the festival,” he says. And the restaurant has pulled out all the stops.

On the buffet table, there are 12 varieties of biryani. And you can start with the Peshawar mutton biryani. “In the Pakistan style, they use a lot of oil,” says Shrikantan. “I have used much less corn oil and ghee.” Thanks to the ghee, the meat is succulent and tasty. There is also a hint of mint and coriander leaves, apart from spring onions.

After that, you could still remain in the neighbouring country by trying the Pakistani Kheema Biryani with its standout minced beef. Thereafter, there is a stylishly named Nawabi biryani. “It is usually made for Eid ul Fitr,” says Shrikantan. There is a hint of sweetness in it. “I have added apple pieces and mixed vegetables,” he says. The most popular in India is the Nawabi biryani made in Lucknow .

Other delights include the Hyderabadi Full-Chicken, the Andhra kitchen shrimp, and the dum beef biryani.

In case you want to return to Kerala, you can try the Travancore Spicy Fish, the Malabar Egg or the kappa biryani. Different types of rice have been used: long, short and thick grains. For example, for the Peshawar biryani, long grains have been used, because that is the style in Pakistan .

And the festival also caters to the vegetarian palate. There is the Idiappam, Tikka Paneer and the Kashmiri biryani, among others. “It is mostly North Indians who prefer to have vegetarian food,” says the chef. “On the other hand, Malayalis love to eat chicken or mutton biryani. So, this is a chance for them to try different styles.”

Patron Priya Menon liked the Nawabi biriyani the best because of its taste. “Overall, it was a nice culinary experience eating so many different types of biryani.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

‘The persistence of inflation is worrying’

2011-11-11T22:34:00.000+05:30

Dr. C. Rangarajan delivers the 12th Commemorative Lecture organized by the Fedbank Hormis Memorial Foundation

By Shevlin Sebastian

“The one disturbing element in recent years is the persistence of inflation,” says Dr. C. Rangarjan, the chairman of the Economic Advisory Council to the Prime Minister. “The other problem is the recent decline in industrial production.”

In July and August industrial production has been below 5 percent. “Even if the rate of growth picks up in the second half of the year, the overall rate may be well below the projected 7 per cent,” said Rangarajan. “The world economic situation is also not very encouraging.”

Dr. C. Rangarajan was the featured speaker for the 12th Commemorative Lecture organized by the Fedbank Hormis Memorial Foundation. The subject: ‘The Indian Economy – Prospects and Constraints’.

In 2010-11, inflation was triggered by the rise in the prices of vegetables, fruits, eggs, fish and meat. “The increase in vegetable prices has been significant,” he said. “The late rains had a severe impact on the supply of some vegetables, including onions.” The persistence of food inflation has led to the spread of inflation in other sectors.

Rangarajan said that there is an urgent need to expand employment opportunities and improve productivity across all sectors of the economy. “It is important to narrow the economic disparities across and within states,” he said.

Rangarajan’s voice sounded pained when he said that India was still in the bottom league of nations when it came to the UNDP’s Human Development Index.

The Indian economy is also being hampered by the low yields in major cereal crops, as compared to countries like China. “We have large science and technology establishments for agricultural research, but the results in terms of productivity leave much to be desired,” he said. It was a polite way of saying that they were white elephants.

Another major problem is the shortage of infrastructure especially in electricity. “A shortage of electric power leads not only to production losses, but also impacts profitability and competitiveness,” he said.

To give an idea of our lack of competitiveness, Rangarajan said that China adds to its capacity in power in one year what India takes five years. “That is how big the gulf is between us and China,” he said.

Nevertheless, his overall message is positive: If India grows at 9 per cent per annum, the per capita GDP will increase from $1600 to $10,000 by 2025. “Then we will become part of the middle group of countries,” he said. “It is necessary to have a strong growth to provide employment to the growing numbers of young people who will join the labour force.”

Earlier, in a welcome speech, Shyam Srinivasan, the MD and CEO of Federal Bank, praised the visionary qualities of the founder, K.P. Hormis. “Today, the bank does over Rs 80,000 crore in business, has 825 branches, 867 ATM’s and an employee strength of 8500.”

The hall at the Gateway Hotel was expectedly packed, and consisted of, what P.C. Cyriac, the Chairman of Federal Bank described, “as the cream of the intelligentsia in Kochi.”

And on the dais, there was one trustee of the foundation who would have the fondest memories of the founder: K.P. Hormis’ son Raju Hormis.

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

No porters in sight... all the time

2011-11-09T08:42:00.000+05:30

At Ernakulam Town railway station, passengers complain about the lack of porters. The elderly and pregnant women have a tough time

Photo: A few porters at Ernakulam Town railway station

By Shevlin Sebastian

When educationist B.S. Warrier returns from Bangalore to Kochi every two months, he has the same experience each time at the Ernakulam Town [North] station. There is no porter to help him take the luggage from the station to the car park. “I am 75 years old,” he says. “It is very difficult for me to take it myself.”

Since the Island Express arrives at Platform No. 2, Warrier and his 65-year-old wife have to climb up the over-bridge and make their way, lugging their luggage along. “This happened at 10 a.m., and not late at night,” he says. “I have seen pregnant women and sick passengers carry their own baggage. The Railway officials are doing nothing about this.”

Station Manager K.V. Mathew clarifies that the porters are not on the payroll of the Railways. “We cannot insist on them being present,” he says. “If they are absent for ten days in a row, all I can ask for is a medical certificate.” The only emoluments given by the Railways are an annual complimentary pass for free travel and some medicines from the health unit.

Mathew is frank enough to say that if passengers complain about a shortage of porters, to a certain extent, they are right. “Out of 12 porters, who are supposed to be on a 24 hour shift, at least six of them may be on leave,” he says.

There is a reason for this. There is no demand for porters for all trains. It is only for specific long-distance trains like expresses that people have luggage to carry. “There are only 12 trains originating from North station,” says Mathew. “Whereas in the South [Ernakulam Junction], there are many more trains starting from there as well as passengers. So business is better for the porters there.”

Meanwhile, the porters at the Town station talk about the poor income. “We earn between Rs 160-180 per shift of 24 hours,” says Ashraf. “That is meagre. On Platform 2, there are two entrances. Auto-rickshaw drivers canvass for customers and offer to take the suitcases themselves. So, we lose the business.”

Regarding aged people and pregnant women not getting help, Prasad, another porter, says, “Most of the time, they are accompanied by people who carry the luggage. Otherwise, those who come to pick them up do so. Our biggest problem is that most luggage pieces have trolley wheels, and hence people do not need the help of porters. Of course, there are difficulties in carrying the baggage up the stairs, but that problem is absent when the train arrives on Platform No. 1.”

As a result of fewer customers and depleted earnings, a few porters go outside for casual work. This includes painting of houses, doing an electrician's job, and unloading material at a nearby godown.

“This is how we make ends meet,” says Ashraf. “In case, there are a lot of passengers who need their luggage to be taken, my colleagues will call us on the mobile, and we will come quickly to the station.”

The porters say that they make good money when people from North India come for a holiday in large groups. “Their baggage is put on a trolley and taken outside,” says Prasad. But apparently, this year, the takings have been poor because it has been a lean tourist season.

However, Warrier has stated that the porters are more interested in carrying commercial items, rather than the luggage of passengers. Mathew categorically denies it. “Those are different porters,” he says. “The ones who take the passengers' luggage are not allowed to pick up commercial items. You can distinguish them because they wear green uniforms, while the luggage-carrying porters have red shirts.”

What is clear is that unless the Railways take these porters on as employees, the problems for passengers will continue.

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

Style and panache

2011-11-08T09:57:00.000+05:30

In the Hairomax Miss South India 2011 event, a Bangalore girl lifts the crown, while the pageant made history when a differently-able girl took part for the first time

Photo: (From left): The second runner-up, Yamini Chander, Miss South India, Laxmi Anand and Elizabeth Thadikaran, first runner-up

By Shevlin Sebastian

In the end, Laxmi Anand of Bangalore pipped Kochi lass Elizabath Thadikaran, the reigning Miss Kerala, to win the Hairomax Miss South India 2011 title at a function in Kochi. After she was crowned, Laxmi said, “I had come here to win and achieved it.” Yamini Chander was the second runner-up. In total, there were 16 participants, with three girls from Kerala while the rest were from Chennai, Hyderabad, and Bangalore. The pageant also made history: actress Abhinaya was the first participant who has hearing and speech impediments.

Not surprisingly, she got the loudest applause from the audience. And it would be the presence of Abhinaya which would provide the first hiccup in the show.

After being eliminated before the semi final round, judge Srikant, a Tamil film star, suddenly announced that Abhinaya should be brought back and be the seventh participant. Compere Ranjini Haridas, flustered by this sudden addition, said, “There is more mirchi here than a reality show.” Ajit Ravi, the chairman of Pegasus, the organizers, said, “It was unexpected, but we accepted the judges’ decision.”

Not everybody in the audience appreciated the gesture, since it was a competition, and Abhinaya had been eliminated fair and square. In promotional material for the contest, Abhinaya had said, “Please don’t show sympathy for anyone’s disability, as they are trying to be as normal as others.” So, maybe, she could have practiced what she preached, and refused the nomination.

Meanwhile, Srikant enjoyed some fan support himself. Singer Ranjini Jose announced from the stage that she had a huge crush on Srikant ‘Sir’. So, was it in his honour that she only sang Tamil and Telugu songs for the Malayali audience?

The programme had contestants modeling designer sarees: red, green, blue, shimmering and not so shimmering, with silver, gold, and black stiletto heels, and with their hair tied up or flowing down their shoulders. It was followed by a self-introduction. As expected, there was clever word play. Here’s one from Elizabeth: ‘The purpose of life is to have a purpose’. What was surprising was how tall most of the girls were. Said Ranjini, “This must be the tallest batch I have come across. I feel like a dwarf next to them”

There was a linen design-wear round, in black and white gowns and skirts. But, after the ‘common question round’, it ended up in a tie between Laxmi and Yamini. So, all the seven contestants had to do the round again, before Laxmi was declared the winner, while Elizabeth squeezed past Yamini to get the first runner-up slot.

The show, which was supposed to start at 6.30 p.m., began at 7 p.m., and was still going strong at 11.30 p.m. Meanwhile, throats were parched, apart from growling stomachs. A frank Ranjini Haridas said, “I am pooped. This show is going on and on.”

The cultural programme in between the rounds was interminable, with a never-ending succession of songs and dances. Maybe Pegasus could break the monotony by bringing in a mimicry artist or have a comedy skit about fashion pageants. The clapping was lukewarm throughout, but intensified when Ravi of Pegasus gave a cheque to Parveena Hafeez, the MD of Sunrise Hospital, to sponsor a free heart surgery for a child.

For the girls, it must have been a wonderful experience, and for those who did well, a great boost for their self-confidence.

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

Letting down her guard

2011-11-08T09:41:00.001+05:30

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Sheela Kochuouseph talks about life with her husband, Kochuouseph Chittilappilly, the managing director of the Rs 700 crore V-Guard Industries Ltd

By Shevlin Sebastian

Last month, when Kochuouseph Chittilappilly, the managing director of the Rs 700 crore V-Guard Industries Ltd., returned from a business trip to China he gave a gift to his wife, Sheela. It was a Swarovski set of a pendant, earrings, and necklace.

“I was stunned,” says Sheela. “I asked him how long he took to select it. He replied that the moment he saw it, he liked it and decided to buy it. It was something special and it is these types of thoughtful gestures that can refresh a marriage.”

At 9 a.m., on a Monday morning, Sheela is looking refreshed herself. Earlier, she had returned from a session of playing badminton at the Rajiv Gandhi indoor stadium, had a quick bath and an even quicker breakfast. Inside the bungalow, beside the National Highway 47 at Kochi, it is silent except for the occasional squawk of a parrot.

Sheela met Kochuouseph for the first time in August, 1977. “He was smiling easily and dressed simply,” she says. “I liked him.” Since her father had died when Sheela was 15, her elder brother and mother made the decision of accepting the marriage proposal. The wedding took place on August 28. Within months she became pregnant and gave birth to son Arun, on their first wedding anniversary. Son Mithun arrived a couple of years later.

So what is it like to be married to a business magnate? “He was not a rich man when I married him,” she says. “We lived in an apartment, near Shenoy’s theatre, for which the monthly rent was Rs 450.” Kochuouseph had five employees then and was making 50 stabilisers a month.

“Yes, today, it is nice to live in a large house, travel all over the world, and to lead a comfortable life,” says Sheela. “But I was much happier when we lived in a small house, and moved around on a scooter. It was a simple life. He would spend a lot of time with me. Now we have a lot of public commitments. Both my husband and I have become very busy.”

Sheela is the managing director of V-Star Creations, a firm which deals in innerwear for men and women. “Even though I am a businesswoman, when I come home, I become a housewife once again,” she says. “I do the cooking, and wash the dishes. There are women who when they suddenly get a good income, forget their past, and behave in a high-handed manner with their husbands. That is wrong. And, anyway, I believe that men are superior to women. God has made it that way.”

So what are the qualities that she admires in this superior man? “My husband is systematic, hard-working, frank and considerate to his employees,” says Sheela. “He is a simple man and not crazy about money, plus he is not finicky about food.”

However, what Sheela found difficult to adjust to was the insistence on punctuality by Kochuouseph. “If he says we have to leave at 8 p.m., it has to be 8 p.m.,” she says. “Five minutes late is too much. It is like five hours to him. Even when we go on a holiday, he keeps to a schedule. I would like to laze about and get up late in the mornings. But he always insists that we keep the same discipline.”

Sheela admits it has been stressful to live with a successful man. “The more mentally strong a man is, the more difficult it is for the wife,” says Sheela. “In the earlier years, he would be hot-tempered with me. But I have managed by confiding in my friends, and having hobbies like painting, gardening, and interior decoration.”

As for Kochuouseph as a father, he has given a lot of freedom to his sons, as well as guidance. “My husband has given them a big business,” says Sheela. “For any child this is a blessing. They just have to look after what he has made. Although I feel that it is also good for children to start from scratch. Then you are able to appreciate more what you have.”

Like all marriages it has been a bitter-sweet experience, but what shines through is Sheela’s commitment. “I cannot live without my husband,” she says. “So, at any cost, I will be by his side. I want to always be with him. It is not because he is a rich and successful man. It is just that emotionally I am attached to him. Ultimately, I am his wife.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

'Youthful India is the big bull of the world'

2011-11-07T11:43:00.000+05:30

Says A.P. Kurian, the former Executive Trustee of the Unit Trust of India, and the chairman of Geojit BNP Paribas, in the ‘Thought Leadership’ lecture series at the Wednesday Club

Photos: Young people; A.P. Kurian

By Shevlin Sebastian

In his speech, titled ‘India’s Ongoing Growth Story’, in the ‘Thought Leadership’ lecture series at the Wednesday Club, a forum which helps develop communication skills, A.P. Kurian, a former Executive Trustee of the Unit Trust of India and the chairman of Geojit BNP Paribas, said, “The greatest advantage the people of India have is a high rate of savings: about 34 per cent.”

It is savings that converts into investment, which leads to development. According to American economist Kenneth Kurihara, investment is to the economy what an accelerator is to the automobile. “Today, we are the second largest growing economy in the world, with an annual rate of 8 per cent,” said Kurian.

India also has a productive demographic advantage, with the average age being 25 years. In the West, the average age is 45 or 60. “We have a young and energetic group of people who have lots of aspirations,” said Kurian. It also helps that we have the largest number of engineers, doctors, nurses, and drivers.

“If the Malayali work force in the Middle East returns to India , there will be problems in those countries,” said Kurian. “The same will be the case in European hospitals, if all the Malayali nurses come back. Manpower is our greatest strength.”

We also have other advantages. The government debt is only 44 per cent of the Gross Domestic Product (GDP). In the USA, it is as high as 78 per cent, while in Italy it is a whopping 180 per cent.

Kurian asked a rhetorical question to the audience: has anybody ever come across a bank that has failed in the past three decades? The last one was the Pala Central Bank in the 1950s. “It is rare,” said Kurian. “We have strong institutions and safeguards in place.”

In 2008, when the sub-prime lending crisis hit the USA , there was very little impact in India . “There was a fall of 50 per cent of the share value in the market, but it bounced back within nine months,” said Kurian. “We are a resilient people. In America, 90 per cent of the people are in debt, but in India it is only 10 per cent.”

Nevertheless, there have been scams in the financial sector, including the big one by Harshad Mehta in the 1990s and Ketan Parekh in 2001. “As a result, the securities market has been completely revamped,” he said. “A National Stock Exchange has come up, apart from the National Securities Depository Ltd.”

On the social side, there have been changes. India was a feudal society. Then it became a socialist republic, and now it is more or less a market-driven economy.

“The licence raj has all but been abolished,” he said. “The welcome development is the public-private participation in all sectors of the Indian economy. One example: we have world class airports at Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore, and Hyderabad.”

As for the political system, it has always been stable, from 1947 till Prime Minister Indira Gandhi’s assassination in 1984. “Now, despite coalition rule, we still have a well-functioning democracy, and a strong and effective judiciary,” said Kurian.

Having said many things in praise, Kurian admitted that one third of the population was below the poverty line. “This works out to about 300 million people, which is more than the population of the United States of America,” he said. “It has been a drag on the economy and on society.”

Another drawback has been the misuse and wasteful expenditure of public money. “This is more so in the public sector,” said Kurian. “At a national airline, there are allegedly 100 people to look after one passenger, while in other international airlines, it is only 10.”

However, the world thinks India is a country with a long-term growth. At this moment, the Foreign Institutional Investment in India is Rs 1.3 lakh crore ($28 billion).

“Today, India is the investment destination of the world,” said Kurian. “The pension funds of many countries in Europe have been invested in India. Believe me when I say that India will continue to grow non-stop till 2060. Youthful India is the big bull of the world.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

A plea for ramps everywhere

2011-11-04T13:54:00.000+05:30

Suffering from muscular dystrophy, consumer activist P.J. Simon is waging a lone battle in Kochi for ramps to be put up in banks, churches, government buildings, railway stations, and bus stops

Photo: Activist P.J. Simon (left)

By Shevlin Sebastian

At his eighth-floor apartment, at Kaloor, the door has been left unlocked so that the visitor can have easy access. P.J. Simon suffers from muscular dystrophy, which is a degeneration of the muscles. So, he is unable to move about on his own. And this consumer activist is on a campaign to get facilities for people like him.

“Everywhere I go, in Kochi, or in Kerala, I experience so many obstacles,” he says. “In buses, it is difficult to get on or off. The way the drivers stop and suddenly leave, there is hardly any time for the disabled people.”

In the railway stations, accessibility to the platforms is difficult. “And in most of the stations, you expect the train to come on Platform No. 1,” he says. “Suddenly there will be an announcement that the train is arriving on Platform 2 or 3. We will have to take a staircase. That is very difficult for many elderly people and impossible for a person like me.”

Another problem is that the platform is not parallel to the bogie’s entrance. “Without help, it is impossible to travel on a train,” he says.

As for the plane, when Simon goes to the Cochin international airport, at Nedumbassery, on his periodic trips to Canada and the USA , where his son stays, he cannot stand for long, so he looks for a wheelchair.

“But the wheelchair supply is poor,” he says. “They will have a few and it will be used to transport many passengers. So you have to sit on a chair. But if I stay at one place for a long time, it is difficult for me to get up. I would then have to take the help of others.”

In order to get his election ID card, a photograph had to be taken, at the Elamkulam village office, opposite the Rajiv Gandhi indoor stadium. But this was done on the first floor. “I struggled to reach there,” he says. “Unfortunately, this sort of insensitivity is common among public servants.”

Going to banks is also difficult, because there are no ramps. The same is the case with ATM's. On July 9, a frustrated Simon sent an e-mail to Chanda Kochchar, the CEO and MD of ICICI Bank. After four days, he received a response from her office.

“I was told that the construction of ramps would be initiated and completed before August 31, at the Kaloor branch,” he says. To his surprise, on July 19, the cluster manager of ICICI, Binu Joseph, informed Simon that ramps and railings had already been put up. “Based on my feedback, they were looking into the possibility of constructing ramps at other branches, as well as ATM's,” he says.

Simon has sent a similar letter to the CEO and MD of Axis Bank, Shikha Sharma, which was also well-received. The bank is planning similar measures as taken by ICICI Bank.

On another day, he spoke to Sanjay Gopal, one of the partners of textile shop, Jayalakshmi Silks, about the lack of ramps. Gopal responded at once and a short ramp has been built at the back, leading from the car park.

However, one group which has not shown any sensitivity to the physically challenged is the Catholic church. “Whereever I go for Sunday Mass, it is so difficult to access any church,” he says.

Simon wrote a letter to one of the senior bishops. The bishop promised that whenever new churches are built ramps will be made. “I told him I am not worried about the new churches which will come up when I won't be around,” says Simon, 73. “But what about the existing churches where these facilities are not available and can be provided at a nominal cost?” Within the next decade, the geriatric population is set to increase manifold in the state.

When Simon went to Canada and the USA , he experienced no problems at all. “Everywhere, there is easy access,” he says. “Ramps and facilities are a must in all buildings and car parks. Without them, nobody gets the license.”

Says Javed Abidi, Executive Director of the National Centre for Promotion of Employment for Disabled People: “70 million disabled people in India cannot step out of their homes because of an inaccessible physical infrastructure and transport system, thus reducing them to an 'invisible minority.' They are dependent on their families for sustenance and are a burden on society. Accessible infrastructure will enable disabled people to get education, employment, and dignity.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Getting back into the groove

2011-11-04T08:07:00.000+05:30

Musician Emile Isaacs, who was part of singer Usha Uthup's troupe for 38 years, suffered a stroke two years ago. He is making a slow but steady recovery

By Shevlin Sebastian

Musician Emile Isaacs blames himself for the stroke that he suffered in January, 2009. A few months earlier, he had gone on a month-long concert trip to the USA with Malayalam film stars like Jayaram, Parvathy, Padmapriya and mimic, Kottayam Nazir, apart from singer Usha Uthup. “On that trip I forgot to take the medicines to control my high blood pressure,” he says. “I am supposed to take my tablets every day. But for one month I did not do so.”

However, there were warning signs. One of his doctor friends told Emile that he did not look good. “But I replied that I felt fine,” he says. Following the trip to the USA, Emile went with Usha to Kolkata. “During a concert, I could feel my hand becoming numb,” he says. It was the beginning of a stroke.

It affected the movement of his left arm and leg. But by the grace of God, his memory and voice is intact, as well as his sight and hearing. One month later, Emile flew to Kerala and underwent physiotherapy treatment in the Medical Trust as well as the Lourdes Hospital in Kochi. The progress had been slow, but ever since a manual therapist, Sugha Prasad, began to massage him every day at his home, a few months ago, Emile has made a remarkable improvement. “Now the sessions have become very painful for me, which is good news,” he says. “It means the nerves are coming back to life in my arms and legs.”

Emile had been the bass guitarist for 'The Sound' band, which accompanies Usha in all her performances. “I had been with Usha for 38 years,” he says. They have performed all over the world, including offbeat places like Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan. Thus far, they had played in over a thousand concerts. “I was so busy with shows and shows and shows,” he says. “24 hours a day was not enough for me.”

So, it has come as a shock for Emile that he has been grounded after such a hectic career. “I believe that God wanted me to take a rest,” he says. “In all these activities I had no time for Him. The stroke has now brought me closer to God. I am praying a lot. One day I will bounce back.”

But when he bounces back, Emile no longer wants to play commercial music. Instead, he wants to do spiritual songs. “I want to play for Jesus,” he says. He has plans to go to the Divine Retreat Centre at Muringoor and team up with his brother Antony.

As for Usha, she is all praise for her colleague. “Emile has been a fine musician for very long,” she says. “But for me his greatest quality has been the way he has looked after his family all these years.”

Emile, the son of a prominent violinist, Joe Isaacs, started playing the guitar at 15. Because of his natural talent, he was hired as a member of playback singer K.J. Yesudas' band. They performed all over Kerala and in the Middle East. “Yesudas made me,” Emile says simply. “I was with the band for eight years.”

Later, Emile started a band called the Elite Aces, which consisted of his brothers, Eugene, Rex, and cousin Pinson Correia. They began playing at Volga, Sealord, and the Casino hotels at Kochi. Soon, they became popular.

When Usha came down from Mumbai, at the invitation of the Kottayam Arts Society, the Elite Aces performed for her. “This was our first concert with Usha,” says Emile. They clicked together and played for a number of years. Usha also helped the band to get a contract at the Oberoi Sheraton in Mumbai during the Christmas season. “We were the first Malayali band to perform there,” he says. Later, they played with Usha at Kolkata's top club, Trincas.

However, in 1979, the Elite Aces broke up and the band members went their different ways, while Emile stayed on with Usha, at Kolkata, and continued to play with 'The Sound'. Today, this band comprises of Bengali musicians and is still performing for Usha, even though Emile is no longer there.

“The show has to go on,” says Emile. “The music should never stop.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

Staying anchored with the sailor

2011-11-01T08:04:00.000+05:30

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Letha Sushil talks about what it is to be married to Vice Admiral KN Sushil, Flag Officer Commanding-in-Chief, Southern Naval Command

By Shevlin Sebastian

Letha Sushil remembers the first sight of her husband, Vice Admiral KN Sushil, Flag Officer Commanding-in-Chief, Southern Naval Command. It was February, 1984. He was coming to see Letha, in a typical arranged marriage scenario, at her parents’ home in Thiruvananthapuram.

“Sushil wore sunglasses and a striped T-shirt, and looked physically fit,” she says. “He reminded me of [West Indian cricketer] Viv Richards.” Letha was impressed. It also helped that Sushil's sister had been Letha's classmate at the Trivandrum's Women's College. So Letha said yes, but not before asking Sushil this question: “Hope you are doing this out of your free will?” Sushil laughed, and said, “Yes.”

The marriage took place on August 17, 1984. “It has been a beautiful innings, so far,” she says, at Navy House in Katari Bagh, Kochi. “I have two wonderful daughters, a grandson, and a good husband. The Navy life is nice. There is security, we have nice friends, and a strong support system.”

So, does she get overwhelmed that Sushil is the boss of the Southern Command, and the second senior-most Navy person in the country? Letha smiles, and says, “My husband is holding a big post and I am happy about that. But I don't wear the Navy stripes on my shoulders. I try to be a down-to-earth person.”

Of course, there are the unavoidable duties of being the wife of the Commanding-in-Chief. “I have to attend many official functions,” Letha says. “Even if I am not well, I can rarely skip these events. But I enjoy the responsibility of being the president of the Navy Wives Welfare Association. We do a lot of social work.”

The Navy life is hard for a wife because the husband spends several weeks at a stretch at sea. “We have to tackle difficult situations alone,” she says. “In some ways, I had to bring up the children all by myself. Those days were not easy. But, later on, when everything worked out well, it made me more a stronger person.”

Of course, in the Navy, service always comes before family. “Even if the wife is ill, and has to be hospitalised, the husband would still have to go out to sea if duty beckons,” says Letha. “That is the way it is. These men are defending our country.”

Letha remembers the case of an officer who accidentally dropped his child from a height. She suffered a head injury and had to be rushed to the intensive care unit of a hospital. “But the father still had to go sailing,” says Letha. “These kinds of situations will be there in every Navy wife’s life.”

She remembers one such instance from her own life. “Sushil was commanding a submarine and had been gone for 45 days,” she says. “We were very happy when he came back.” But before the family could celebrate, within an hour of his return, Sushil received orders to sail again. “I was very upset, and felt depressed and helpless,” says Letha. “To regain my composure, I went for a long walk around the campus in Mumbai. When I returned, I told Sushil, 'All right, if you have to go, please go.'” Her husband was gone for a further 25 days.

In person, Letha looks trim and fit. She credits her super-fit spouse for introducing her to exercise. They go for long walks, either in the morning or the evening, with their two Labrador dogs, a mother-daughter team of 'Dee Dee' and 'Cleo'. “I used to go for swimming earlier,” she says. “But now I am an avid golfer, along with Sushil.”

Asked for tips on making a marriage last, in these days of rising divorce rates, Letha says, “You need patience. People have less of it these days. Avoid blowing up small issues. Finally, instead of taking rash decisions, wait one or two weeks. You will cool down, and be more forgiving.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Trivandrum)

The face behind the mask

2011-10-31T07:41:00.000+05:30

'Masks and Mirrors', a one-minute film, was one of 25 films short-listed for the 'Filminute' international competition, which received more than 2000 entries from all over the world. The director was the Mumbai-based George Mangalath Thomas

By Shevlin Sebastian

In the one-minute film, ‘Masks and Mirrors’, the first scene is of a 12-year-old boy suddenly awakening in a Mumbai apartment. He opens the door and goes to the dining room. His father is sitting at the table, tears streaming down his face. He holds a glass of whisky, with ice cubes in it. A bottle, which is three-fourths empty, is nearby. There is a photo of a somber-looking woman on the table. The man toys with a gold wedding ring.

The boy fills a glass of water from the kitchen and is about to drink it when he has a change of mind, and brings it to the table and offers it to his father. The man looks at the boy silently, then takes the glass, stares at the photo of his wife, looks back at the boy, and says, with a smile, “Breakfast?” The boy nods, and gives a smile. (Link: http://j.mp/pgqtnx)

It seems that 'Masks and Mirrors' is about a man who is grieving over the break-up of his marriage. Director George Mangalath Thomas, a Mumbai-based advertising and documentary film-maker, laughs, and says, “It is an open-ended film. Viewers can bring in their own interpretations. If my film makes you think, wonder, speculate and discuss, it means it has worked.”

‘Masks and Mirrors' was one of 25 films that were short-listed for the highly competitive ‘Filminute’ international competition. There were more than 2000 entries from all over the world. Incidentally, George is one of only three film-makers who made it to the short-list three times. His earlier entry, 'Staircase', a multi-award winning film, is also stunning.

“It requires a lot of discipline to tell an effective story in 60 seconds,” he says. “Your planning of each shot should be immaculately conceived so that everything is crystal-clear in your head. That way, you know the answer to every question that the crew puts to you. Finally, the biggest challenge is to make the film on a zero budget!”

Asked why the name 'Masks and Mirrors', George says, “Everybody wears a mask, even with the people closest to them. But there are times when the mask slips and the person is exposed. It can be a naked feeling and might make you feel very uncomfortable. As far as mirrors go, every son feels that he will be forging his own path, but in the end he tends to follow in the footsteps of the father. He becomes a mirror image of the father.”

George has had a successful award-winning career in advertising, corporate and documentary films in India, USA, Europe, and UK for over 20 years. His notable achievement was the documentary, ‘Legacy of the Mahatma’, which was shot on three continents. It focused on the relevance of the teachings and beliefs of Mahatma Gandhi in the modern world. Made for the Aditya Birla Group, it had its premiere at a conference on nonviolence at Bethlehem, Palestine, in December, 2005.

Cinema buff Ramesh Menon, who has seen George's work, says, “He makes films from his heart and shows reality in its utter rawness. You can see the films again and again and you learn something new each time.”

George's turning point came when his brother, Subhash, aged 38, died of lung cancer in May, 2009. “After his death, I found it difficult to go back to full-time commercial work,” he says. “His passing-away helped me rediscover my soul.” George is now devoting a part of his career to making meaningful films. Or, as he says, “Sometimes I am paid to make films. At other times I pay others to help me make films that exist within me, their stories a living thing that beats against my chest, asking to be heard.”

(The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

The road of despair for the Kochi Jews

2011-10-31T07:31:00.000+05:30

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photo: Josephhai Sam Abraham next to the Star of David symbol at his home in Kochi

The Jews of Kochi are a worried lot. They have a one-acre cemetery, on the Kathrakadavu-Pullepady road. “However, the Cochin Corporation has plans to broaden the road,” says Josephhai Sam Abraham, the president of the Association of Kerala Jews.

According to Jewish religious law, once a person is buried, the grave cannot be disturbed ever again. So the Jews are anxious about whether the authorities will insist that they give up their cemetery. “Many tombs will be disturbed,” says Josephhai. “We are going to appeal to Chief Minister Oommen Chandy to intervene in the matter.” The community is also taking the help of the Israeli consulate in Mumbai and the embassy in Delhi.

Meanwhile, Saumini Jain, the chairperson of the Works Standing Committee of the Cochin Corporation, says, “We respect the religious feelings of the Jewish community, but we also have to consider the needs of the wider public. The enlargement of the road is vital for a smooth traffic flow, and it will benefit the entire city of Kochi.”

Another source of anxiety for the Jews is the misconception that the community is down to nine people. “This is not true,” says a member, Babu Elias. “In fact, the nine people are the Mattancherry Jews. And they are all indeed in their seventies and eighties.” But there is also a small, thriving Jewish community of about 40 people who stay in Kochi, Aluva, and North Paravur.

“There are young couples who have small children,” says Babu. Most of the youngsters are computer engineers, doctors, marketing and IT professionals.

The state government has allotted one seat in medicine and engineering in every alternative year to the Jewish community. “This will be very helpful for us,” says Josephhai. “But since the perception is that we are only a handful, there is a danger of the quota being withdrawn. In reality, we have eight youngsters, all below twenty years of age.”

What is of pride for the community is that they have not asked for any other help from the state government. “By the grace of God, all of us are doing well,” says Josephhai, a businessman.

Meanwhile, the new generation has the option of staying or migrating to Israel. “This is an individual decision and we will never interfere with it,” says Josephhai. Incidentally, Josephhai lived for 14 years in Jerusalem, before he returned to Kochi in 1986. “I missed Kerala and India,” he says.

On the other hand, his son, Solomon, 29, has migrated to Israel with his wife, Susan, a Bene Israeli Jew from Mumbai one year ago. “I accepted their decision gracefully, and they are happy there, although I am sure they will miss India also,” says Josephhai.

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

The main character is Delhi

2011-10-28T13:47:00.000+05:30

Mukundan's new novel expected to make an impact

By Shevlin Sebastian

One of Kerala’s leading writers, M. Mukundan’s 496-page magnum opus, ‘Delhi Gathakal’, will be released at a public function in Thiruvananthapuram on November 1. The novel, the 18th in the acclaimed author’s career, has, as its main protagonist, the city of Delhi.

Mukundan had traveled to Delhi in 1962, as a young man, in search of a job, and over the next four decades, while working in the French Embassy, he has observed how the city has been transformed from a small village, which had wheat and cauliflower fields, to a megapolis.

“Today, Delhi looks as beautiful as Paris or New York,” he says. “But the changes are cosmetic. Underneath, there are poverty and suffering.”

The novel begins with the Chinese aggression of India in 1962. “That war was a historical jolt for the Left movement in India,” he says. “The Left was counting so much on China and its Premier, Zhou-En-Lai. In fact, in the Kerala of those days, we talked more about Zhou, rather than Mahatma Gandhi and Pandit Nehru.”

Mukundan also describes the impact of the 1965 and 1971 wars against Pakistan on the people of Delhi. But the most important section is on the 1975 Emergency which was imposed by Prime Minister Indira Gandhi.

“I have written about the forced vasectomy of thousands of young men, and the impact of the Turkman Gate demolition [many people were killed by police firing when they protested against the demolition of their homes],” he says. Mukundan has also described in detail the assassination of Indira Gandhi in 1984 and the subsequent anti-Sikh riots.

Asked whether he did a lot of research, Mukundan says, “Not much. I just had to check a few dates and facts about certain events. Otherwise, I had experienced many of the events first-hand.”

The novel’s hero is Sahadevan, who, like the author, went to Delhi as a young man and got a small job in a travel agency. Apart from Sahadevan, there is a Communist trade union worker, Sreedharan Unni. “In total, there are fifty characters,” says Mukundan.

Meanwhile, the publisher, DC Books, is betting heavily that the book will do well. So, instead of the usual print order of 2000, they have gone for a record 10,000 copies, priced at Rs 275 each. “It is an impressive novel,” says A.V. Sreekumar, Senior Associate Editor of DC Books. “We expect the book to have a similar or bigger impact than 'Mayyazhippuzhayude Theerangalil'.”

Of course, it would help sales if the younger generation is interested. But Mukundan is optimistic. “Of late, I have visited several schools and talked to students of Class 10,” he says. “They told me they read fiction. I was surprised when many students asked questions about my novel, 'Kesavante Vilapangal', which is a complex work. So, I am optimistic that youngsters will buy and enjoy 'Delhi Gathakal'.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

Modern man in search of his soul

2011-10-27T07:57:00.000+05:30

Painter Sidharthan takes simple motifs from life to make a comment on society at large

Photos: 'Beyond the iron grill'; 'From us to me'

By Shevlin Sebastian

In mid-2008, Sidharthan attended a camp of painters at Gokarna, 450 kms from Bangalore. The environment was inspiring for the Kochi-based painter. “There were palm and coconut trees,” he says. “A constant sea breeze was blowing, because of the many beaches there. I was able to interact with artistes from all over India. It was very inspiring.”

When he returned, Sidharthan started work on a 4 x 4 ft. canvas. And he began with an image of those date palms which he placed on the edge of a mountain top. Behind them, there is a black iron railing, which is resting on a wall, which has small concrete chips embedded on it.

Straight ahead, there is a black sky, with tufts of white clouds. It is a forbidding sight. But as he worked, Sidharthan realised he needed a larger area. So, he placed two canvases side by side and the end result is a 7ft. x 5ft. painting, titled, 'Beyond the Iron Grill', which dominates one wall of the gallery.

“I wanted to dwell on the borders between people, cultures, and countries,” says Sidharthan. “The sky represents a whole new world beyond the borders, but we tend to misunderstand the people on the other side. This unwillingness to empathise is probably the reason why so many wars have taken place throughout history.” Not surprisingly, this work enabled Sidharthan to win the Lalitkala Akademi state award for best painting in 2008.

Sidharthan, like a true artist, is a reflective type. In a painting, 'From us to me', there is an empty bed, with a small pillow, set beside an open window. Outside the curtained window, birds, in white shapes, are flying about.

“This is a bed in my house where I lie down often and think about life,” he says. “All of us are self-absorbed. We think only about 'my wife, my children, and my family'. We seem unable to look at the wider world beyond the windows of our house.”

In another work, there is an Outside Broadcast (OB) van of a television company at one side, the circular satellite dish sticking out from the top of the van. In an unusual juxtaposition, there is a girl, wearing a salwar kameez, who is pushing a shopping trolley.

“The OB van indicates how prevalent television is in our lives,” he says. “The most intimate details of a person's life are being broadcast. There is no privacy anymore.”

As for the shopping girl, Sidharthan says, “Nowadays, there is a shopping craze. This is done mostly in malls now, unlike earlier generations, when people would go to the local shop in the village to buy essentials. There would be a familiar and friendly relationship between the shop-keeper and the customers. But now when you buy items in a mall, there is hardly any interaction with the employees. I wanted to show the effect of globalisation: a pervasive TV culture and non-stop consumerism.”

Sidharthan is unusual in that, apart from being an artist, he also teaches painting at the RLV College of Music and Fine Arts at Tripunithara.

“It is rare for teachers to be painters themselves,” he says. “But I gain new ideas and youthful energy from my interaction with the students. And as a painter, I keep up to date with the latest national and international art movements, and pass this on to my students.”

Sidharthan's fourth-year student, A.R. Anagha, says, “In the exhibition, Sir takes simple motifs and uses them effectively to reveal the problems in society.”

Every morning, Sidharthan gets up at 6 a.m., and works non-stop for three hours before he sets out to the college. In this solo exhibition, his seventh so far, he has produced 12 paintings, out of an output of around 50 over a four-year period.

“My life is my art,” he says. “And I am consumed by it.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

A check-up in time saves lives

2011-10-25T07:52:00.000+05:30

Self-examination, a mammogram or an ultrasound are the various methods that can be used to detect the signs of breast cancer. Many lives can be saved as a result. October is Breast Cancer Awareness month

By Shevlin Sebastian

There is a knock on Dr. Thomas Varughese’s room at Lakeshore Hospital, Kochi, on a weekday evening. “Come in,” says the senior consultant oncologist surgeon. In walks Baby Abraham, a senior manager in a bank, accompanied by two daughters, who are working in the IT industry in Bangalore and Chennai. “Doctor, I want to say a big thanks,” says Baby.

Thomas nods, and says, “Last week, when I met you for the first time, all of you looked so worried.” The family smiles happily, as Baby says, “We were in hell then and now we are in heaven.”

Sometime ago, Baby’s wife, Geeta, 56, was diagnosed with breast cancer. “It was like a bombshell,” she tells me later. “Our family was stunned. We did not know what to do. We could not sleep the entire night.”

For months, she had pinpricks of pain but there were no lumps in her breast, so she ignored it. “I was busy in my job as a manager in a bank,” she says. “I had a suspicion it was cancer, but was terrified of losing my breast.”

It was only recently that she consulted a doctor in a leading private hospital. After the examination, the doctor said that mastectomy or breast removal would have to be done. However, somebody recommended the name of Dr. Thomas, who propagates the retaining of the breast in the early stages of cancer.

Says Thomas: “Studies have shown that whether you preserve or take out the breasts, the woman lives for the same number of years. So I prefer to do organ preservation, because a breast is a symbol of femininity. It is a symbol of womanhood, beauty, and self-esteem for a woman and should never be taken off.”

The surgery was done on a Tuesday, and by Thursday, Geeta had left the hospital. Thanks to his drainless surgical technique, which, Thomas says, will be patented soon, a patient is discharged within 24 hours. In the usual method, used by other surgeons, there are tubes and drains which stick out of the breast. It necessitates repeated aspirations of the armpit which lasts for weeks. “It is a cumbersome process, whereas my procedure takes only five days,” says Thomas.

Incidentally, more than 90% of the population is unaware that in the early stages, breasts can be preserved after the cancerous area is removed. “Because of the fear of losing their breasts, many women report the lumps too late,” he says.

There are a few tools available for early detection. Self examination is the cheapest and the best. “The right time to do one is during the mid-cycle of menstruation,” says Thomas. The woman has to stand in front of the mirror, hands on either side. When the hands are raised, the nipples should be at the same level. “If there is a slight difference, there could be a possibility of cancer,” says Thomas. “If there is swelling underneath, the level will be different.”

The other methods include the mammogram, and the ultra sound. A mammogram should be done after you turn 40. If you get the all-clear, you can do it once in three to four years. But an ultrasound should be done every year.

Today, breast cancer is the No. 1 killer disease among women. And, increasingly, it is younger women who are falling prey. They delay marriage, pregnancy and have fewer children. Thereafter, most women tend to avoid breast-feeding. “During breast-feeding, a hormone called prolactin is released,” says Thomas. “This protects the breasts. So, the more children you breast-feed, the more protection there is for the breasts.”

But since breast-feeding is decreasing in importance, Thomas recommends brisk walking every day. “A lot of positive hormones like adrenal, insulin, and thyroid-stimulating hormones are released during exercise,” he says. “Essentially, it stimulates the immune system.”

The right diet is also important. “The major part of our diet should be vegetables,” says Thomas. “For proteins, we think meat is good. However, the protein content of legumes and pulses are much superior to those found in meat. Meat, when it is cooked, undergoes denaturing. A lot of toxins are liberated. These are very harmful.”

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Thomas says, “I plead with women to consult a doctor as soon as they detect a lump in their breasts. Early detection will save breasts.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

The agony and loneliness of old age

2011-10-21T10:21:00.000+05:30

A seminar on ‘Elders rights and their entitlements’ highlighted the emotional and financial problems of the elderly

Photos: Speakers at the seminar: (from left): K. Mukundan, Roy Chacko, Dr. Martin Patric and Fr. Jaison Vadassery; The elderly people arriving to take part in the seminar

By Shevlin Sebastian

“The numbers of old people are increasing,” says K. Mukundan, District Social Welfare Officer, Ernakulam. “Around 11 per cent [35 lakh] of the population in Kerala is classified as aged. Nowadays, there is nobody to look after them.”

He was speaking at the symposium on ‘Elders rights and their entitlements,’ organized by the House of Providence and Helpage India at the Ernakulam Social Service Society hall at Kochi on October 18. The audience comprised students of Vidyaniketan and St. Teresa’s College and elderly people.

What has aggravated the situation is the rising numbers of women who are working. “They are barely able to look after their own children, let alone, the elders,” says Mukundan. “Having said that, I feel that the women are forgetting their responsibilities towards the aged. People are only thinking of themselves these days. I blame some of the problems on the breakdown of the joint-family system.”

Many old people feel physically isolated and emotionally abandoned. To counter that, the state government is planning to open day care centres where old people can congregate and be busy with activities. “One of them has been just been opened at Nedumbassery,” says Mukundan.

Dr. Martin Patric, retired Professor of Maharaja’s College, says that many populations in the world are ageing, like Japan and France. Kerala is also in the same category. He spoke about how, almost always, the women outlasted the men.

“When the husbands die, the women feel isolated,” says Martin. “Ageing is a gender issue. And as time goes on, there will be more and more old people. And since the birth rate is going down, the number of young people to look after them will be less.”

Martin spoke about the meagre pension that the state government is providing the elderly. “It is only Rs 400 a month, while Tamil Nadu has recently hiked the amount to Rs 1000,” he says. “We should also do the same. There has to be many more Old People’s Homes and the government should be setting up at least one in every district. Aged people also do not have any public spaces that are exclusively reserved for them.”

Roy Chacko, an advocate of the Kerala High Court, spoke about the various provisions in the 2007 Maintenance and Welfare of Parents and Senior Citizen’s act. “The elderly have the right to get maintenance,” he says.

In case an elderly person is not getting it, he can give an application to the Revenue Divisional Officer (RDO), who can arrange to get help from NGO’s who look after the aged, or from the children. “An RDO can get a maximum of Rs 10,000 from the children, depending on their economic status,” says Roy.

If there is a conflict between the children and the parents, this can be resolved with the help of Conciliation Officers. “These officers are supposed to solve the problem amicably,” says Roy.

At this moment, 8.33 per cent of India’s population is aged. “Every five years, this will increase,” he says. “Children should be taught about the necessity of looking after their parents.” The seminar was moderated by Fr. Jaison Vadassery, Director of the Kerala Labour Movement.

Following the seminar, there was a public function which was inaugurated by Dr. Francis Kallarakal, the Archbishop of Verapoly, and presided over by Biju Mathew, state head, Helpage India. The dignitaries included Mayor Tony Chammany, former MP Sebastian Paul, Cochin Corporation councillors KJ. Jacob and Lino Jacob, Monsignor John Bosco Panakal, parish priest of St. Francis Cathedral, Sr. Bartholomea Joseph, Nursing Superintendent, Lourdes Hospital, and Sr. Mary Paul, Superior, House of Providence.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Torn, ripped-off, or mutilated

2011-10-20T08:02:00.000+05:30

Nihaal Faizal's exhibition is about political posters that are littered across the state of Kerala

By Shevlin Sebastian

Two years ago, Nihaal Faizal was walking beside the railway tracks, near the South bridge, at Kochi, a Canon EOS 550D camera slung on his shoulders, when he saw a torn poster on a wall and got an idea: why not take photographs of political posters that are littered on numerous walls across the state? More than a thousand photos later, he has short-listed 20 posters for an exhibition at the David Hall, Fort Kochi, called, ‘More Automobiles Than Are Parkable’.

“Politics has played a major part in the life of the people in Kerala, the first state in the world to elect a Communist Party to power,” says the Class 12 student at Choice School. And in these posters, what is intriguing is that most of them have been torn. Sometimes, the eyes cannot be seen or the chin, nose, ears, and the head.

“It is out of boredom that people tear the posters,” says Nihaal. “They are waiting for a bus and they see a poster on the wall and rip a part of it off. Maybe, they are feeling frustrated and angry because they are jobless. When the economy is down, it is possible that more posters might be torn.”

Psychiatrist Binu Balan gives another perspective: “Many people have grown up in an environment where they have seen their elders tear posters,” he says. “That is why the mutilation of posters has persisted for so many generations.”

Interestingly, the posters that are ripped off have grim, unsmiling expressions. “The eyes are glaring at us, like 'Big Brother' [in George Orwell's novel, '1984']. Some people might get irritated by that,” says Nihaal. “You don’t want to be stared at all the time. You want some moments of privacy.” On the other hand, the posters which have escaped unscathed have smiling faces on it.

One of the most unusual posters is that of Meherunnissa Kalluparambil, who stood for the Cochin Corporation elections. Her face has been carefully cut out, almost as if somebody has used a blade to do the job. What remains is the black burqa. “Now the person does not exist, only the community,” says Nihaal. Beneath the poster, he has put up a saying by Mahatma Gandhi: 'An eye for an eye will make the whole world blind'.

Saumini Jain, the chairperson of the Works Standing Committee of the Cochin Corporation has barely survived on a poster. Right below her lips is another poster advertising the Spoken English classes run by the Anglo British Council at Ravipuram. Meanwhile, on the doors of a broken-down white Ambassador car, parked by the side of the road, two posters of Congress candidate A.R. Kannan have been pasted.

On another poster, a rope is seen hanging in front of a poster of a woman's face. Nihaal has titled it, using an African proverb: 'When elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers.'

“Elephants are politicians and the grass is the common people,” he says. “Their battles affect us. We see their faces everywhere. They are self-serving and self-centred. They don’t care about the people. They are doing things for their own benefit. The question uppermost in my mind in the past two years is this: 'where are the faces of the ordinary people?'”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

A day of sunshine and games

2011-10-18T13:12:00.000+05:30

The residents of the Old Age Home, run by the House of Providence, celebrated Senior Citizen's Day with gusto

Photo: P.D. Joseph marking a bindi, while Subal Paul looks on

By Shevlin Sebastian

The crowd of onlookers – old and middle-aged men and women, and children – cheered when a towel was wrapped across P.D. Joseph's eyes. He was given a chalk and led to a blackboard, where he had to mark a bindi on the face of a young woman, drawn in white chalk. There were giggles and shouts when Joseph placed the bindi near the chin, instead of the middle of the forehead.

The House of Providence sisters were celebrating Senior Citizen's Day on October 15, at their old age home on Providence Road in Kochi. The boarders include 22 men and 78 women. They range in age, from the forties, these are mostly infirm people, to the nineties.

“We decided to invite our neighbours, members of the local church, and the committee members which run the home,” says Superior Sr. Mary Paul. “The children have been specifically invited so that the inmates can enjoy their company and vice versa. We want to bring joy to our elderly group. We also want to increase the interaction between the inmates and the community around us.”

However, what is saddening is that no members from the inmates’ families have come. “They have all been abandoned,” says Sr. Theresa Joseph Cherukunnel. “That is why they have been living with us. Visits from relatives are rare.”

In some cases, the children and close relatives only arrive when they are informed the person is dead and they need to collect the dead body. At other times, they will come when they want a signature to be put on a property deal.

“Nowadays, children, as well as society, ignore the plight of elderly people,” says Subal Paul, an advocate practising in the Kerala High Court. He grew up near the home and would play in the grounds during his childhood. Subal’s job during the celebrations is to be a judge for all the competitions. “I am happy to see the inmates experience a little joy,” he says.

When outsiders come on a visit, they are able to get a better understanding of the plight of the old people. “Consequently, there are many who help with material gifts,” says Subal. “Some sent left-over food after functions to the home. The home survives on the donations of people and Helpage India. Government aid is meagre.”

The refreshments are sponsored by Bread World, thanks to the efforts of Lino Jacob, the local councilor for the Cochin Corporation.

Meanwhile, the passing of the parcel is taking place and Subal is busy playing the music on a tape recorder. Occasionally, he blows the whistle. People laugh and clap, including Mariamma John (name changed).

A childless widow, she has an adopted son, Soman, who is a drunkard and a wastrel. He stays alone in the family home. Two grandchildren, a girl, 15, and a boy, 13, live in an orphanage. “My daughter-in-law stays in a hostel,” says Mariamma. “Soman is angry with me, because I have willed the property to my grandchildren.”

Soon, she is in the midst of the passing the parcel game and her face lights up, as she quickly passes it to the next person.

Thanks to a wonderful programme organised by the nuns, for one day, the sound of laughter resounds in the home.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

An American in Kakkanad

2011-10-17T08:24:00.001+05:30

Jennifer Kumar, who is married to a Malayali, is slowly adjusting to life in Kochi

Photos: Jennifer wearing a salwar kameez; next to the Navaratri golu ((an exhibition of dolls placed on wooden tiers) that she made at her home

By Shevlin Sebastian

One night, in 1995, Jennifer Kumar had a dream. In it, she was wearing a blue saree and placing books in the stacks of a public library. There were a few people present in the reading room. She spoke to somebody in a foreign language. Later, she began dusting the books. “I woke up and felt shocked,” says the American. “I did not know what a saree was at that time. I was thinking: ‘What was I wearing?’”

There were more shocks. She repeated the words in the dream to her Indian friends and they told her it was Telugu. “I have never heard of the language before,” she says. “It was unnerving, to say the least.”

Her interest in India was sparked off and she began learning about the history and culture of the country. In 1999, she embarked on a two-year master’s programme in social work at Madras Christian College in Chennai. She returned and continued with her reading about India .

“I stayed near Rochester, in New York state, which had a lot of Indians,” she says. “I wanted to participate in Indian culture, so I would go to the Hindu temple.”

In June, 2003, at the temple, she met Krishna Kumar, a Malayali, who was working in the IT industry. They fell in love and got married in 2005. After several years in the USA, the couple have re-located to Kochi, in February, this year, where her husband works a manager in an American firm at Info Park, Kakkanad, while her in-laws, the Karthas, live in Mattancherry.

It has been a roller-coaster ride for Jennifer in the past few months. “The first thing that I had to adjust to was the climate,” she says. “ Kochi is not as hot as Chennai, but it takes a while to get used to the humidity.” As she also learned to adjust to the long rainy season, Jennifer discovered a fungus problem at home, if the house was not cleaned every day. “Where I lived, in the US, the climate is hot and rainy for a few times in a year,” she says. “Mostly, we have to deal with snow and ice.”

What has been a revelation for her is how knowledgeable Malayalis are. “Since many of their relatives live abroad, Malayalis are keenly aware of what is happening in foreign countries,” she says. “In America, the people are only bothered about their own lives and do not have much of an idea of what is happening in the rest of the world.”

Meanwhile, she is busy learning how to cook new Malayali dishes. She already knows how to make sambhar, puttu kadala, dosa, idli, chutneys, and upuma. Since her husband grew up in Delhi, she makes North Indian dishes like masala puri, dal, roti, and Rajma.

Jennifer has so embraced the Indian culture that she has made a Navarathri golu (an exhibition of dolls placed on wooden tiers) at her Kakkanad home. On the floor, she has written 'Shub Navaratri' in Malayalam. Behind it, are small statues of the Dasavatar, the ten incarnations of Vishnu, as well as a book by motivational author Robin Sharma called, 'The leader who had no title'.

On the first tier, the theme is Africa. So, there are clay figures of the zebra, hippopotamus, crocodile, and an elephant. A couple of tribal men are looking with fixed eyes into the distance, holding spears in their hands.
On the second step, there are Barbie dolls from various countries like China, Ireland, Portugal, Holland, and Mexico. Right at the centre there is a doll of Bollywood superstar Hrithik Roshan.

“I wanted a doll from popular culture,” she says. “The golu is not just traditional, but has modern elements.”

On other steps, there are statues of Lord Buddha, Shiva, Krishna, Ganesh, and a blue-beaded Hanuman. There is Jesus Christ in a manger, surrounded by his parents, Joseph and Mary, as well as the shepherds, apart from a statue of Santa Claus from Hungary.

Jennifer’s family is originally from Hungary. Two dolls from Hungary, a boy and a girl, have only one eye. “As a couple you should see the world through one pair of eyes,” she says.

When she is not busy at home, Jennifer has a fledgling career as a cultural consultant. “I help people with the nuts and bolts of getting adjusted to the US or India,” she says. “I provide tips on job hunts, applying for college, setting up a home, conversational American-English, cross-cultural soft-skills, and how to handle relationships.”

And so, Jennifer, who knows how to wear a saree and a salwar kameez, is slowly getting adjusted to life in God's Own Country.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

A winner all the way

2011-10-14T09:24:00.000+05:30

Elizabeth Thadikaran, the reigning Navy Queen, also scooped up the Hairomax Miss Kerala crown, displaying poise and confidence. A bright future beckons

By Shevlin Sebastian

In the Hairomax Miss Kerala competition held at Kochi, recently, Bollywood director Roshan Abbas says, “In a world of lust and greed, what advantage do women have over men?” Elizabeth Thadikaran's reply was immediate: “Women are the epitome of peace and sensitivity as they are love and compassion personified. I believe that women have eyes that can penetrate. We can see deep inside a person and that is their edge over men.”

The moment she said that, Elizabeth felt an inner conviction that she would win. Her sister, Tanya, who was in the audience, concurs. “She spoke very well.”

And so, it was that Elizabeth Thadikaran, all of 19, a second-year student at M. S. Ramaiah Dental College at Bangalore, picked up the Miss Kerala crown. And it is the second big win for her in less than a year. In November, 2010, she had also been crowned the Navy Queen.

“I gained a lot of confidence after I won the Navy Queen title,” she says. “And that helped me in this competition.”

But for Elizabeth, the 10-day grooming sessions which was conducted by well-known pageant coach, Ritika Ramtri, was most helpful. “She taught us how to walk properly on heels and project our personality,” says Elizabeth. “She also suggested that we should look at the audience in the eye and connect with them, so that they would want you to be the winner.”

Ritika, who has trained several Femina Miss India winners, spotted Elizabeth's talent early on. “I knew she would be in the top five because Elizabeth was very good in the question-and-answer sessions,” says Ritika. “But it is always difficult to predict the winner. Usually, the one who has presence of mind during the final rounds will get the crown. Having said that, all the girls were good.”

So, was there a keen competition among them, some of whom came from Dubai, Pune, Chennai, Bangalore, and Thiruvananthapuram? “Not at all,” says Elizabeth. “In fact, we felt like sisters and had a lot of fun together. If one girl felt depressed, because she felt that she would not be able to perform well, we would all go and console her.”

At heart, Elizabeth is a girl-woman. In her bedroom, at the family bungalow at Venalla, there are numerous teddy bears, poodles, muppets and cartoon characters. Her mother, Rani, lifts up a bear sleeping in a cradle and says, “This was her favourite when she was a child.”

On the wall, there is a board which contains numerous medals which she won in her school aquatics career. A school captain and award-winning speaker, Elizabeth studied in Choice school.
Meanwhile, she poses with practiced ease before the camera. Sometimes, she looks at the frames and gives her opinions to the photographer on what is good and bad.

Clearly, there has been a sea-change in her personality since last November. Back then, she was shy and hesitant. Now she has a direct gaze, gives an impression of tallness, at 5' 8”, and radiates positive energy.

“Yes, I feel very good now,” says Elizabeth. “I would encourage other girls to take part in beauty pageants, not so much to win the crown, but it does wonders to one’s self-confidence.”

Meanwhile, the win could prove to be a windfall. Ram Menon, executive director of Impresario, the producers of the Miss Kerala pageant, confirms that the modelling offers are coming in, as well as a few feelers for films. “We have to see what will be best for Elizabeth,” he says.

But a practical Elizabeth has already thought out her plan of action. “I will only take a film role if it is suitable,” she says. “I want to concentrate on doing ramp shows and print advertisements. My immediate priority is to take part in the upcoming Femina Miss South India, because I want to represent Kerala and, if I do well, the country, as well. My motto is simple: I want to reach for the stars.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

French toast on the coast

2011-10-10T12:09:00.000+05:30

Marc Delorme lives in a 150-year-old house in the Vypeen islands, near the city of Kochi

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photo: Marc Delorme in his living room. Credit: Manu R. Mavelil

One day, a few years ago, Marc Delorme was riding around on a Bullet motorcycle in the Vypeen islands looking for a place to stay. “I was searching for an old house and a quiet environment,” he says. Accidentally, he saw a shuttered 150-year-old house with a tiled roof, set in a few acres of greenery.

“I looked through the windows and immediately wanted to live there,” says the burly Frenchman. He called the owner, M.A. Korath, who lived in the suburb of Tripunithara. Korath said he did not want to rent it out. Undaunted, Marc called him every day for a month before Korath acquiesced.

“The house, which had been shut for 18 years, was in good condition,” says Marc. “I just repainted the walls and brought in the furniture.”

The first room that one enters has an 18the century bench, spotted with shells, from Rajasthan. At one side, in an alcove, there are photos of Lord Krishna and Goddess Lakshmi. “Religion is the base of any culture,” he says. “So if you are living in India, you need to go inside the religion to understand the culture.”

On a low wooden table in the middle is a statue of St. Thomas, holding a Bible in one hand, and a stick in the other. On the wall, there are black masks, which Marc had secured from a visit to Nepal. A painting on another wall, done by a friend, contains Kerala scenes: unfurled umbrellas, elephants with upraised trunks, and several trees.

Another small room has been painted in a distinctive red. “The colours have been chosen in relation to the spices in Kerala food,” he says. “So red means chillies.” A yellow in the dining room resembles lime, while a bedroom has a saffron colour.

The most striking is the spacious living room. On a low wooden table in the middle, there is a large brass bowl, which contains marigold flowers and leaves floating in crystal-clear water. Just beside it is a small bust of a man with a goatee. Marc lifts it up and says, “This is my father Claude, a writer, who died last July at the age of 82,” he says. “It was made by my sculptor brother, Thierry.”

Other touches: ornate armchairs, an old grandfather clock, lamps on side tables, and silver candlesticks

On one side is a wooden bookcase containing French translations of 'The Good Earth' by Pearl S. Buck, Japanese writer, Haruki Murakami, and German author Herman Hesse’s ‘Siddhartha’. “It was only after reading Siddhartha that I got interested in India,” says Marc, who has lived in Kerala for 18 years now and works as a freelance interior designer. Incidentally, Marc, a voracious reader, has a collection of more than 2,500 books.

Meanwhile, the kitchen is a traditional one, with a wooden stove at one side, and windows with slats on them. “This enables the smoke to get out,” he says. “I don't use liquefied gas for cooking. Food tastes so much better when you use firewood.”

The striking innovation is the conversion of the arra (in ancient times grain was stored here) into a place for guests to stay. On the ground floor, there is a massage room, with a bathroom just beside it, apart from a dressing room.

But what draws the breath is the bedroom on the first floor. The four-poster bed, with white drapes, is placed right in the middle. When you look up, you can see a sloping ceiling made of coir mats. Just behind the bed is a painting of Krishna and Radha. On the floor are mats. Coconut husks painted in red, blue and yellow are mounted on a wall. Muted lighting gives a very romantic feel.

“Good for honeymooners,” says Marc, with a laugh.

Yes, indeed, very true. Outside, Marc says, simply, “When people see my house, they will understand my heart. Both are intertwined.”

(The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

Sowing the seeds of growth

2011-10-10T08:32:00.000+05:30

The Kerala State Seed Farm, on an island, at Aluva, near Kochi, produces seeds, at subsidised cost, for farmers. Earlier, it had been a farmer’s school run by the Travancore Royal Family

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photo: Aju John Mathai at the farm

Just behind the Palace of the Travancore Royal kings at Aluva town, 20 kms from Kochi, there are steps leading towards the Periyar river. Aju John Mathai, an Agriculture Officer, is waiting in a speedboat. The State Seed Farm is on an island 400 metres away. We set out, with the boat leaving large waves behind in its wake.

At the island, an employee, Prasad, is tying white plastic cups to the side of a long wooden stick. Inside are the eggs of micro wasps called tricho-cards. The sticks will be embedded in the mud in the paddy fields. “These eggs will hatch and the wasps will come out, and feed on paddy pests like leaf folder and stem borer,” says Aju. “We are trying to maintain an ecological balance. The pests are there, and we are ensuring that the natural control agents are also present.”

Aju then provides a large cowboy hat and we set out in the afternoon sun to inspect the paddy fields. There are several of them, spread across 14 acres. The farm grows breeder seeds, which are originally collected from the Kerala Agricultural University. After two rounds of cultivation, around 7000 kgs of seeds are sent to the Seed Authority. These are then sold to select farmers, who plant them in their fields. “In effect, 10 kgs of breeder seeds is multiplied till it becomes 50,000 kgs,” says Aju.

At one side, in an open shed, women workers are placing paddy on a threshing machine. The seeds are removed from the chaff efficiently. Karthiyani, one of the women workers, says something to the officer. Aju immediately moves to a bunch of hay piled up on one side, beside a paddy field, and lights it with a cigarette lighter. “The ash will be used as compost for the soil,” he says, as the flames swirl up, thanks to a steady breeze.

At one side there is a vermicompost area, which consists of bins, with wire-mesh tops. Straws, weeds, and banana stems are chopped and put into the bins. “We also sprinkle cow-dung,” says Aju. Lastly, earthworms are added, which will turn it into good manure or compost in 60 days. These are later put in the fields.

“In organic farming, you put back what you take from the field,” says Aju. “A rice plant grows by taking nutrients from the soil. But we only take the grains. The rest of the nutrients are still there in the plant. So I put it back into the soil. There is no need to use chemical fertilisers.”

On the perimeter of the island, vegetables like brinjal, ladies fingers, cowpee, pumpkins, bitter gourd, and fruits like mangos and bananas are grown in abundance. Aju plucks a few ripe bananas from a tree. They are tasty and sweet.

So, what is the importance of the farm? "We are selling the seeds at subsidised rates," says Aju. "Seeds are a multi-crore rupee industry. If you go to the open market, it is very expensive. Farmers prefer to buy from us because they know the seeds are cheap and of good quality. Whatever we produce is sold."

But there is a fear among the 22 workers and administrative staff. On the river banks, there are brand-new multi-storey buildings gleaming in the sunlight. “Yes, the farm faces the danger of extinction because this place is so beautiful, with the river on all sides and all this greenery,” says Aju. “The tourism industry will definitely try to lay their hands on this prime land.” To counter that, Aju has already submitted project plans, to develop farm tourism, worth Rs 2.75 crore, to the Ernakulam district panchayat.

"This place has a lot of history," he says. In 1919, Sri Moolam Thirunal Maharaja of the Travancore Royal Family started a 'Krishi Paadashaala' (Farmers’ school) on the island. This continued for a few decades before the land was taken over by the state government in 1957 and converted into a farm.

“The farm is an asset and should be treated like one,” says Aju.

(The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

Tiger's gone but his pugmarks remain

2011-10-09T12:02:00.002+05:30

When former Indian cricket captain Mansur Ali Khan ‘Tiger’ Pataudi died recently, fans reminisced about Sportsworld magazine, of which he was the editor
Photos: Tiger Pataudi, Ravi Nayar and Shailaja Prashanth

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Ravi Nayar heard the news about the death of former Indian cricket captain, Mansur Ali Khan ‘Tiger’ Pataudi, recently, he felt a pang of pain. In the early 1980s, when he was growing up in Kolkata, he had constantly read Sportsworld magazine, which belonged to the Ananda Bazar Group, and was edited by Pataudi.

Ravi enjoyed reading Pataudi’s editorials. “Tiger was frank, to the point, and got his message across in a lucid style,” says the general manager, customer service, with AVT McCormick in Kochi. “If he wanted to talk about something he did not approve, he was very open about it. He was also amusing at times.”

Ravi also admired the other writers on the magazine, which included David McMahon [a senior editor in Australia ], Derek O’Brien [a quizmaster, a Member of Parliament and a Vice President of the Trinamool Party] and Rohit Brijnath [a senior writer in The Strait Times, Singapore]. “The entire team wrote clear, concise, and interesting articles,” says Ravi. “It was a golden era of sports writing. Earlier to that, there were legends like Khalid Ansari, K.N. Prabhu, Rajan Bala, and Pradeep Vijaykar.” Sadly, Prabhu, Bala, and Vijaykar have all passed away in the last few years.

Ravi found Sportsworld different from other sports magazines. “The editorial content, the design, the high quality photographs: it made the get-up look very attractive,” he says.

But what was also a bonus was the way the magazine interacted with its readers. “There was a reader’s quiz, in which we could send questions and answers and it would get published,” says Ravi. “I remember that my quiz was selected once and I got a cheque payment for it.”

Shailaja Prashanth, on the other hand, had been reading the magazine since she was eight years old. “My mother, who loved cricket, would buy Sportsworld regularly,” says the Kochi-based senior copywriter. At that time, Shailaja was staying in Digboi in Assam, where her father worked for the Indian Oil Corporation.

In those days, there was no other form of entertainment, except reading. “As I grew older, I came to realise that the articles were really well-written,” she says. “It was not just plain reporting of facts. There was a lot of insight and charm. Each writer had his own style.”

And she gave an interesting explanation of why she preferred sports magazines to, say, a film glossy like 'Stardust'. “In sport, the drama and the events are real,” she says. “Whereas in a film magazine, you are not sure if the incidents being described actually took place, or it is just plain gossip.”

What also attracted her to Sportsworld was that the magazine covered all sorts of sports, and not just cricket. “My sister and I liked tennis a lot,” says Shailaja. “In fact, former Wimbledon champion Stefan Edberg was my idol.”

Apart from tennis, Shailaja also began reading about boxing, football, and Formula 1 car racing. “In the eighties, there were no live telecast of the car races, as it is done now,” she says. “But the feud between champion drivers Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost came alive through the coverage in Sportsworld.”

Shailaja also enjoyed going through the magazine's most popular column. Called ‘Freewheeling’, it was usually written in the first person and featured on the last page. “There were satires, jokes, and sharp insights about sports personalities which you would not find in the newspapers,” says Shailaja. “It was fun to read.”

The magazine did leave a permanent impact on her. “Sportsworld writers showed that there is so much power in the written word,” she says. “I felt so inspired that I even toyed with the idea of becoming a sports writer myself, but eventually settled for copywriting.”

Shailaja read the weekly magazine non-stop from 1985 to 1996. “I sort of lost interest when Edberg retired,” says Shailaja.

But Ravi never lost interest. He read the magazine till it closed down in early 1999. “All good things have to come to an end,” he says. “I still miss Sportsworld and the writings of Tiger Pataudi.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

A message for the people

2011-10-08T08:04:00.000+05:30

Bindi Rajagopal’s exhibition focuses on present-day concerns like the Anna Hazare movement against corruption and the need for space in urban living

Photo: Bindi Rajagopal next to the Anna Hazare painting

By Shevlin Sebastian

Every night, at 10 p.m. Bindi Rajagopal sets up her easel at her home in Thevara. The children have gone to sleep, their class homework and dinner over, while her day's work as an art teacher in a private school has ended. Then she slowly begins to paint. “I need pin-drop silence to work,” she says.

In recent times, she had been much affected by the Anna Hazare phenomenon and the bomb blasts in Delhi. “I wanted to do some paintings that would say something to the people,” she says.

Not surprisingly, her latest exhibition is called, 'Of the people, by the people, for the people'. However, at the gallery, the first thing that catches the eye is a piece of installation art. On an aluminium ladder, there are paper figures of men trying to clamber up the steps.

At the top, sitting with one leg placed on top of another, and watching the others, with a smug expression, is a young politician who has won the big prize. “This resembles the ladder of power,” says Bindi. “Everybody is keen on grabbing political power these days. Film stars, celebrities, anybody who has a public profile, has an interest in politics. I wanted to show this mad scramble for power.”

Just beside it on the wall is an acrylic on canvas. On one side, there is the familiar white kurta-dhoti figure of Anna Hazare, wearing a white Gandhi cap, and with upraised hands, as if exhorting the crowds to join him in his anti-corruption fight. Behind him there are eager-looking faces, young and middle-aged, hoping for a corruption-free India, but feeling skeptical at the same time.

On the left is an elongated face, with thick open lips, painted a deep red. Television mikes in the middle are capturing all the sound bites. Just below is a Malayalam newspaper clipping which has been pasted on to the canvas.

“The media is the biggest influence in society now,” says Bindi. “Anna Hazare's message was spread far and wide thanks to the television channels, newspapers, and magazines.”

Besides the Hazare painting, there is another acrylic on canvas of a cow or a goat having a woman’s head in a forest. The face looks much like Bindi’s: thick, red lips, deep, black eyes and flowing shoulder-length hair. A calf is suckling away, at the nipples. It seems an unusual juxtaposition to the anti-corruption drawing, till Bindi says, “It is too late to change adults. But if mothers can breast-feed principles of fair play and honesty to children, we can hope to get a society with good people in the future.”

Other paintings include one on a forest, where there are trees, painted in black, with flowing leafless branches, on the top, that looks like the many arms of Goddess Durga, and all done in a serene blue. Interestingly, Bindi has spray painted it on a corrugated sheet. So, at the centre, there is a fold, as if the painting had been bent. “It might have got damaged during the transit to the gallery,” she says.

The aim of the painting is to tell people that they need to stop and think. “There are no silent areas in a city,” she says. “We have to go and find a place where there is space and quiet, so that we can spend time in contemplation. A lack of serenity creates many problems in society.”

Another painting is of Mahatma Gandhi, with his rimmed spectacles and long walking stick doing the famous march to Dandi in March, 1930, from Sabarmati Ashram, to protest the salt tax imposed by the British. There is an Indian flag in the background and Gandhi is being earnestly followed by patriotic men and women.

“This shows the link from Gandhiji to Anna Hazare,” says Bindi. “Both are fighting for truth. They are struggling on behalf of the people.”

On the floor, she has placed several small paintings of banana shoots, flowers, leaves and stems. “People are so disturbed and tense these days, they have no time to enjoy nature,” she says. “They walk past it without noticing anything. They don't know how to enjoy and appreciate life any more.”

One who viewed the exhibition was Sidharthan, a senior faculty at the RLV College of Music and Fine Arts, Tripunithara. “This exhibition reflects an artist’s reaction to political and social issues,” he says. “Bindi is having a steady growth because she is working continuously. I am sure she is going to get better in future.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Husbands at the receiving end

2011-10-06T08:04:00.000+05:30

Thanks to Section 498A, of the Indian Penal Code, many women are alleging harassment, and putting their husbands behind bars. The Society for the Protection of Men are fighting for their rights

Photo: Jalal Pavaratti and Francis Pulikottil, officer-bearers of Purusha Avagasha Samrakshana Samithi

By Shevlin Sebastian

Umesh Nair works in a private company at Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. By hard work and self-sacrifice, he saved money and bought three cars in his wife Laxmi's name: a Scorpio and two Innovas. The plan was to use them as rental vehicles in Palakkad. A driver, Rajan, was hired. In the meantime, with the help of a friend, who supervised the construction work, Umesh was able to build a house. The property was also registered in his wife's name.

Unfortunately, Laxmi fell in love with Rajan and embarked on an affair. After a while, she began living with her paramour. Soon, she transferred the ownership of the vehicles and the house to Rajan. Using it as a collateral, Rajan took out a bank loan to start a business.

Meanwhile, scandalised relatives spread the word. Umesh came to hear about it in Riyadh . He returned to Kerala and confronted his wife. Immediately, Laxmi slapped a case under Section 498A.

The law goes like this: 'Whoever, being the husband or the relative of a woman, subjects such woman to cruelty shall be punished with imprisonment for a term which may extend to three years and shall be liable to a fine. The offence is cognizable, non-compoundable and non-bailable.'

Umesh was arrested and put in jail. It took him a fortnight to get bail. He is a shattered man, having lost all his hard-earned assets. In despair, he approached the Thrissur-based Purusha Avagasha Samrakshana Samithi (PASS) or the Society for the Protection of Men.

“We met the couple, individually and together, and are looking for an amicable solution,” says Francis Pulikottil, the state president. “Our aim is to unite the couples. There are many cases between husband and wife which last for 10 or 15 years in the courts. We want to speed up the process.”

Unfortunately, cases like Umesh are becoming all too common. “In 80 per cent of the couples, where the husband is working abroad, the wife inevitably takes on a secret lover,” says Jalal Pavaratti, vice president of PASS. “Women's attitudes have changed now. Owing to the rising consumerism in Kerala society, a wife wants to spend a lot of money, live lavishly, and have a good time. They are not bothered about how the husband is struggling in harsh desert conditions in the Middle East to earn the money. When the husband is unable to provide the cash, they put the blame on him and try to get out of the marriage.”

One of the easiest ways is to use Section 498A. “Most of the time, wives include the name of the husband's parents to cause social humiliation, and to pressure the spouse to settle the issue quickly,” says Francis. “Basically, the aim is to grab the property of their husbands.”

Unfortunately, the number of cases is increasing day by day. “So many doctors, engineers, businessmen, and professors are suffering silently,” says Jalal. “They are unable to speak out because of the fear of society's ridicule. PASS is a platform for these troubled people.”

The organization, which was set up in January, 2010, has more than 200 members all over Kerala. Both Francis and Jalal went through similar problems. Hence the idea came to start PASS.

When PASS receives a complaint, they will contact the wife's family. Once they receive permission, they will go and visit the family. “Sometimes, a wife will request us to bring along a woman companion,” says Jalal. “They feel comfortable talking to another woman, especially if the problem is sexual in nature, like if the husband is impotent.”

If there are children involved, PASS office-bearers will talk about the impact on them. “We tell the husband and a wife that they can have a divorce, but what about the children?” says Francis. “They cannot be divorced. I tell them they are losing the best years of their lives fighting against each other. Slowly, we make the couple realise that the way forward is through compromise, rather than confrontation.”

Meanwhile, finding Section 498A as a draconian law, PASS office-bearers have sent letters of complaint to the President and Prime Minister of India. However, owing to the creaking wheels of the bureaucracy, it will take decades before the law can be made more humane.

(Some names have been changed)

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

In the middle of a storm

2011-10-01T08:19:00.000+05:30

Most young people these days are on a collision course with their parents, and find it difficult to choose a suitable career and the right partner for marriage

Photo: Clinical psychologist Loney Jacob

By Shevlin Sebastian

Neeta Pillai belongs to an affluent family in Kochi. For her masters in mass communication, she went to the University of California, Los Angeles. In a free and casual environment, Neeta indulged in sex and drugs. “I have to say that I enjoyed myself,” she tells counsellor Shirin Kutty. “In fact, for a while I got addicted.”

When she recently returned home, she was surprised to discover that her friends were into parties and taking hashish with boyfriends. “I don't think they are into sex, although I cannot say for sure,” she says. As her parents begin to look for a marriage alliance, Neeta is skeptical about finding a suitable man. “I am sure he is going to be narrow-minded and conservative,” she says.

The more Shirin meets young people, the more she insists on talking to their parents. “I am always advising the elders on finding the right person for their children,” she says. “When you give so much of freedom and good education to youngsters, parents have to listen to them when it comes to the choice of marriage partner.”

She says that children are keen to tell their parents about whom they like and don't. There should be an open dialogue. It is not that children are correct all the time. A parent can also be right. “But they need to bring their wisdom and listen to their children's views, and develop a mutual understanding,” says Shirin. “Parents should see whether two people are compatible for marriage and not two families.”

Most of the time, parents tend to ignore their children's wishes, put too much pressure, and force the youngsters to get married to the people they have selected. “There is a strong likelihood of the marriage failing,” Shirin says.

Apart from wrong marriage partners, clinical psychologist Loney Jacob says that most youngsters feel they have made an erroneous choice of profession. “They are forced to become engineers or doctors, and are unable to do what they have the passion for,” she says.

The insistence on the part of parents that children should have a good education is understandable, because India is not a rich country and there are not too many opportunities. “Parents tend to be practical,” says Loney. “Unfortunately, because of their inflexible attitude, there are a lot of young adults in their late twenties who are unsuited for their jobs as doctors, and chartered accountants. In fact, they feel like failures. They want to start off in another career, but it may be too late. They are already 26 or 28.”

By this time, parents start putting pressure on them to get married. “I counsel young people to look at the pros and cons,” she says. “I encourage them to introspect and find out what they would like to do.”

Interestingly, despite their anguish, children do not blame their parents at all. “They know that their fathers and mothers want the best for them,” says Loney. “In fact, most are worried because they know that their parents, who have spent lakhs of rupees on their education, will be shocked if they opt for another profession.”

Of course, it is another matter that Indians are passive by nature and unwilling to take risks. “That is why youngsters will undergo five years of torture during their professional courses, lacking the courage to opt out, and try something else,” says Loney.

What is adding to the torment of young people is the conservativeness of Kerala society. “There is no healthy interaction between boys and girls,” she says. “In most colleges, they are not allowed to talk to each other. If they do so, parents and college authorities immediately assume it could lead to sex or elopement or marriage. That is why it is so necessary to have freedom. You have to allow youngsters to understand what relationships are like. You have to allow them to experience life.”

Not surprisingly, most of the students who come to counselling to Loney after Class 12 have a tremendous urge to go outside the state to study. “They want to breathe the air of freedom,” she says. “I would urge parents to look at things from the youngster's perspective, instead of trying to ram down their views all the time.”

(Some names have been changed)

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

All of four and no less

2011-09-29T09:45:00.000+05:30

There is a debate among parents, teachers, and psychologists about whether the minimum age for admission in kindergarten should be four years of age

By Shevlin Sebastian

During the admission process this year for the kindergarten section of a private school, principal Jeena Mohan (name changed) had a tough time. Ever since the State Government announced that a student has to complete six years of age on June 1 for admission to Class 1, the management had taken the decision that the minimum age for admission to Lower Kindergarten would be four.

“Many parents, who had children of three and three and a half years, were upset,” says Jeena. “They were keen to get the child off their hands. They feel that the responsibility of educating the child rests on the teachers.”

However Jeena agrees with this cut-off date. “There is a big difference between three and four years,” she says. “A child, at three, is unable to hold a pencil properly. There is a lack of clarity in speech. And there is also the problem of toilet training.”

Another person who agrees with Jeena is Annie Cherical, teacher in charge of the kindergarten at Vidyodaya school, Thevakkal. “It is good to have a cut-off date at four years,” she says. “Children are more ready when they are older. I know that parents say that children are smart at 3 ½ and earlier. But they are seeing that one child in front of them.”

On the other hand, the Vidyodaya teachers have noticed that when there are children between 3 ½ and 4 ½ in a class, usually those who are four plus perform much better. “This is very clear to us,” says Annie. “But, at the same time, I am not saying that there is something wrong with the 3 ½ year old child.”

Jeena bemoans the fact that even though going to kindergarten is not a must, it has gained a momentum of its own. “But we try to avoid teaching too much,” she says. “Definitely, writing is taught only in upper kindergarten.” She says that many schools have set up a heavy study schedule for the toddlers. “There are schools, where what is taught in Class 2 is being taught in kindergarten,” says Jeena. “Children will develop an aversion to studies.”

Annie says that formal learning like writing and reading should be avoided because it is far too early for children to assimilate these concepts.

The new thinking is that children should be allowed to play and enjoy their childhood, till they are four. “The later they come to school the more capable they are of understanding what is being taught,” says Jeena.

Some parents, of course, do not agree. Jiny Soney, a mother of two young girls, says, “My daughter, Veronica, joined kindergarten when she was three and a half. And she had no problems whatsoever.” Her younger child, Victoria, at 2 ½, is already in a playschool and has learnt songs, numbers and alphabets with ease. “Children are much smarter these days,” she says.

Dr. Siju Thottappilly, who deals with the behavioural problems of children, insists that the earlier a child goes to school, the better. “I don't think there is any problem of children going to a creche or play school,” he says. “It is better than being looked after a maid-servant, especially if the mother is working. Maid-servants will not give as much care. In school, children are able to develop their social skills.”

But there are drawbacks also. “Sometimes children feel pressured when they have to do compulsory studies in play school and nursery,” says Siju. “So, a younger child will find it difficult to cope. But in good schools children learn only through games and play and this should be encouraged.”

Overall, it is a matter of debate whether this cut-off date is necessary. “There have not been any scientific studies that have been referred to, regarding this,” says Annie.

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

Tales of the Tiger

2011-09-25T14:29:00.000+05:30

Mansur Ali Khan, also known as Tiger Pataudi, was as good a journalist as a cricketer

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photo: The Sportsworld team. (From left, front row): Andy O'Brien, Aveek Sarkar, Chief Editor of the Ananda Bazar Group, Tiger Pataudi, Robin Chatterjee, Suprakash Ghoshal, and Shevlin Sebastian.
Back row: Pradeep Paul, Rohit, Brijnath, K.O. Jacob, Avik Lee, and a waiter at Dalhousie Club, Kolkata

When Mansur Ali Khan, also known as ‘Tiger’ Pataudi, stepped inside the building of the Ananda Bazar office in Kolkata, one day, in the early nineties, there was a palpable excitement among the employees. This was the Delhi-based Tiger’s annual visit to see the staff of the magazine, Sportsworld, of which he was the editor.

Just prior to his arrival, women journalists had told Sportsworld staffers, with nervous excitement in their voices, “You must introduce us, you must introduce us.”

Assistant Editor David McMahon told his subordinates, of whom I was one, in preparation of the visit, “With Tiger, he appreciates it if you are relaxed. If you get uptight, then he clams up.” Later, this casual tip was used by most of us effectively whenever we met famous personalities during the course of our careers.

On that particular day, Tiger was dressed informally in a cream Safari shirt and matching trousers, Kolhapuri leather slippers, and sunshades. The most striking aspect, at first sight, was how handsome he was: the aquiline nose, and those red cheeks of his.

As he stepped into the glass-panelled office of Sportsworld, he did a familiar ritual:
He looked around to see some of the racier posters of sportswomen that we had pasted on the walls. Since the team members were all in their mid-twenties, such interests were expected. He glanced at a particularly striking photo of former Wimbledon champion Steffi Graf, posing in a black bikini, and murmured, “Nice.” All of us relaxed immediately.

Naturally, we gathered around and spoke about sport, and a host of other topics. Tiger had a dry wit, a sharp mind, and a wonderful articulateness. It helped that he was educated at Oxford University .

Things got so laid-back that one colleague said, “Tiger, which eye of yours is blind?”

An unblinking Tiger said, “Take a guess?”

And of course, he said, “Left”, and got it wrong. But it was difficult to figure out that the right one was inactive. He damaged it permanently at the age of 20 in a car accident in England.

Another staffer piped up, “Do you have blue blood?” This was in reference to the fact that he was the Nawab of Pataudi, a person of royal lineage. Tiger laughed, and said, “Cut me up and see.”

Soon, a crowd had gathered outside. Finally, David opened the door and the girls trooped in, all giggly and red-faced and shook his hand. Afterward, we could hear them squealing in delight in the corridor outside. Undoubtedly, Tiger had charisma and charm. He was also rich, famous, and an achiever.

One of India’s youngest cricket captains, Tiger scored 2793 runs in 46 Tests. Thanks to his shrewd captaincy, India secured their first Test series win abroad, in New Zealand, in 1968. And to top all that, he was a classy writer. His editorials -- clear-eyed and lucid -- were much praised.

But here was the oddest part of this ‘Tiger’. For some reason he was afraid to fly. So every time, he came to Kolkata, he took the Rajdhani Express. One of us would be deputed to collect him from Howrah station.

But Tiger was much appreciated by his staff, because he led with a light touch. As a result, many of the staffers could unleash their creativity, and develop their potential. Some have gone on to stellar careers in international newspapers and magazines abroad. His death, at 70, has brought a numbing pain. But his legacy of fair and graceful leadership will live on inside us for the rest of our lives.

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

A door to one's memories

2011-09-24T16:34:00.000+05:30

Kochuouseph Chittillapally talks about his autobiography, ‘Ormakilivaathil’, which was released recently

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photo: The cover of the book

On a recent Saturday morning, industrialist Kochuouseph Chittillapally is preparing for a fortnight-long business trip to China. As he talks about the tour, he remembers the aspirations of his father, which he has recounted in his just-released autobiography, ‘Ormakilivaathil’.

“My father said that after my studies I could return and work on the farm, in our village of Parappur , near Thrissur,” he says. “Or I could be a school teacher, or a bank clerk. Thrissur had so many banks: South Indian, Catholic Syrian, and Dhanalakshmi. My father's ambitions were limited to that area only.”

But now, 66 years after Independence, the aspirations of parents have changed. “They want the children to get the best education and the best jobs anywhere in the world,” says Kochuouseph.

When he was a child, he remembers seeing visible poverty among the people. “Many were starving, especially during the monsoon season,” he says. “Fortunately, I belonged to a well-to-do family. My mother would help by giving foodgrains to the poor.”

Help also came in the form of the American PL 480 programme, in which wheat, milk powder, and cereals were sent to poor countries like India . “In our village, the local church distributed the relief materials,” says Kochuouseph. “Apparently, the US would dump its excess production in the sea. But later, they began sending it to less-developed countries.”

In the sixties, food was needed in plenty, because the families were large. “In my house, there were six children,” he says. “My uncle, who lived nearby, had eight. Another relative had eight children. Attention to one child was at the minimum. We used to get beatings and cry a lot, but who bothered? As a result, I became mentally and emotionally strong. Whatever happens in life, I can face it.”

School also toughened up Kochuouseph. Contrary to what most people think, he was a mediocre student, and suffered from dyslexia. “When I want to write the number 93, it will come across as 39,” he says. “If you tell me a ten-digit number, and when I write it, one or two numbers will go missing. So, I have to check and re-check the number that I am writing down.”

Once, during the English class, at St. John’s school, he was asked to read a chapter and failed to do so. “The teacher felt that I was not serious about my studies, even though I was trying very hard at home,” he says. “I was forced to stand on the bench and all my classmates laughed at me. It was a humiliating incident, but in those days all the students went through similar experiences.”

Kochuouseph bemoans the fact that children have become soft these days. “In a family, there are only one or two children, and there is a lot of pampering,” he says. “We give special attention. We analyse their emotional feelings. But outside the home, society is ruthless. The rule is survival of the fittest. So, a pampered child finds it difficult to cope with life, especially when faced with setbacks.”

When he became a teenager, he would bunk classes, along with his friends, and go to watch films. “Hindi films were very popular because they were usually shot in foreign locales, and it was fascinating to see those countries,” he says.

Kochuouseph remembers going to see an English film, ‘Patton’, at Sridhar theatre. “It was the only cinema that showed 70mm films,” he says. He would also step into the Sealord hotel, which was the biggest those days in Kerala. “I paid 75 paise for a cup of tea, which cost 20 paise outside,” he says.

The autobiography, which spans the years from childhood till Kochuouseph is 22, happened by accident. Three years ago, M.A. Ravikumar, a senior manager at Wonderla Holidays Pvt Ltd., which is owned by Kochuouseph, approached him and asked whether he could write a biography. The industrialist agreed. Work began. But sometime later, Kochuouseph read an article by journalist Sajil Sreedhar in a magazine. He liked the style and got in touch. Sajil agreed to get on board.

For the next three years, Ravikumar, Sajil, and Kochuouseph met once a fortnight, where the industrialist spoke about his past. The end result is ‘Ormakilivaathil’, published by DC Books.

But, as writer T. Padmanabhan wrote in the foreword, 'This book is only a seed. Now the peepal tree has to come up.' Kochuouseph smiles, and says, “Yes, I will be starting work on Part 2 very soon.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

A one-man inspiration army

2011-09-24T16:22:00.000+05:30

When Gopalji died of colon cancer at the age of 42, his numerous friends were left bereft. In order to honour him, they have started a foundation in his name

By Shevlin Sebastian

Media professional Jeret Venugopal remembers going to his cousin, Gopalji’s house at Vytilla one morning to collect documents for a consultation at Amrita Hospital. Gopalji had been diagnosed with colon cancer. As he stepped out, Gopalji called him back. “Please wait, I want to give you a paper,” he said.

But when Venugopal read the document, it was another person's health report. “Gopalji asked whether I could show it to a doctor at Amrita,” says Venugopal. “Even as he was dying, because he was at stage 4 of the disease, Gopalji was thinking about other people.”

For hundreds of people Gopalji was a legendary friend. Nearly all of them met him when they were doing their graduate courses at Maharaja’s College in the eighties. “Gopalji had the power to reach out and touch your heart,” says college lecturer Bindu M.K. “Even if you are meeting him for the first time, you never felt he was a stranger.”

His actual name is V.B. Gopalakrishnan. But when Meera Ramakrishnan, a Malayali, who grew up in North India, befriended Gopalakrishan, at Maharaja’s College, she began calling him ‘Gopalji’ and the name stuck.

Gopalji did not hold any college union post, but he was actively involved in cultural activities, youth festivals, and the nature club. “Many trees that were planted in Kochi were done under his leadership,” says Venugopal. “He practiced and preached blood donations long before it became fashionable. He also provided money to provide afternoon meals for students.”

Even as he helped people, Gopalji had a busy career as manager, projects, of Cochin Media City, a facilitator for the media, communication and entertainment industry.

But, unfortunately, this activity-filled life came to a sudden end on February 18, 2010. Gopalji was only 42. He left behind a wife, Sonia, an English teacher at Nalanda Public School, and two children, Krishnan, 6, and Gouri, 3. “His death created a vacuum in our lives,” says Bindu.

A few months after Gopalji’s death, a consensus arose among his friends that they should start an organisation in his name. “We wanted to follow in Gopalji's steps,” says Venugopal. “Instead of thinking about ourselves all the time, as most middle-class people do, we wanted to help others. Gopalji is our inspiration.”

The Gopalji Foundation was set up on September 29, 2010, with a membership base of 246 members. “Ninety percent are friends of Gopalji,” says D. Chandrasenan, the president of the foundation. “Many live abroad, but they are contributing money.”

But a few months ago, an outsider contributed money. Shruti Kamath, 18, who was part of the gold-medal winning Indian team in the Asian Rowing Championship held at Guangzhou in China, last year, gave the prize money of Rs 10,000 to the foundation. “I heard of Gopalji from my mother, who is a former student of Maharaja’s College,” she says.

And because Gopalji had died of cancer, the foundation has identified people who are cancer victims and need money for medical expenses. They also pay the educational bills of the children. One of them is Renuka, who is doing her higher secondary course at NSS Arts College at Tripunithara. The team has also conducted an ophthalmic camp on December 29, Gopalji’s birthday, at Ponnurunni. “Free spectacles were distributed,” says Bindu. “Around 150 people landed up and most of them were poor.”

A medical camp was conducted on August 14, while the foundation is gearing up for another one on October 9. They are also gathering funds to buy an ambulance for the Santhwanam Pain and Palliative Care Clinic, at Sulthan Bathery. “The doctors were taking the cancer patients to hospital in an auto-rickshaw,” says Chandrasenan. Thus far, all the money has been generated among the members. “We want to establish our credentials, before we can approach corporates for help,” he says.

But for all of them, they are in the process of discovering what Gopalji knew a long time ago. “When you help others you are filled with joy and a deep sense of satisfaction,” says Venugopal. “And we feel Gopalji’s presence with us all the time. We have faced hurdles, but somehow, they keep getting solved. I am sure Gopalji is keeping an eye on all of us.”

And so, thanks to one man’s gift for friendship, he has planted the seeds of social service in numerous professionals and they in turns will inspire others. The Circle of Life will go on.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Doctoring a win

2011-09-20T14:41:00.001+05:30

Jeemol Jaibin, a dentist, who won the Mrs. Kerala crown, is now the winner of the Mrs. India Worldwide title

By Shevlin Sebastian

In the Mrs. India Worldwide competition held at Faridabad, on September 10, Jeemol Jaibin, a dentist from Kochi, never lost her cool, despite training sessions lasting till 2 a.m. “Most of the other participants would complain about the late timings,” she says. “They would cry over the slightest of problems.” Around 30 marks were being given for good behaviour. “During the ten days we were there, the judges were watching us closely,” she says. And Jeemol took it all in her stride.

Nevertheless, the competition was stiff. Several had won titles in their respective states, and there were girls who had come from South Africa. In the contest, organised by Shree Shai Entertainment, there were several rounds: saree, gown, shorts, and bikini.

“The bikini round was the most difficult,” she says. “I had never worn one before. Most of the other women had the same problem, because they were also coming from conventional backgrounds.”

But Jeemol did well, thanks to a good performance on the catwalk, on high heels. “The secret of a good walk is that you should have poise and be able to carry yourself well,” she says.

Jeemol also scored in the pivotal question and answer session. Asked the definition of a complete woman, Jeemol said, “She has to hold her family together, no matter what, she has to be a good professional, and must have spiritual values, which she can pass on to her children.”

In the end, it was the total package that enabled her to win. “The judges, which included Bollywood actress Aditi Govitrikar, were looking for intelligence, confidence, a good posture, and verbal skills,” says Jeemol.

Jeemol, who is 5' 7” tall, comes across as sleek and confident. She does regular exercises, like skipping and lifting dumbbells, and avoids foods that are rich in carbohydrates, like rice, chappatis and sugar. As a result, she has no paunch. Asked how to keep the skin glowing, she says, simply, “Try to be happy all the time. A positive attitude makes all the difference.”

It has been a good year for Jeemol. In June, she won the Mrs Kerala crown at a beauty pageant organised in Kochi by Bodycraft Multi International Health Club. When she stood on stage after more than a decade away from the spotlight, she had a mixed feeling. “It was like going back to my college days when I took part in several beauty pageants,” she says. “I was thrilled, but I also felt a sense of regret that so many years had gone past.”

The last time she took part in a beauty pageant was when she was doing her Bachelor of Dental Surgery at the Vinayaka Missions University at Salem. She ended up winning the Miss Vinayaka title. This led to offers to do advertisements and take part in other contests which she did. But her parents, especially her father did not know about this.

Jeemol grew up in Kalady. Her father, a contractor, had a conservative attitude. “One day I asked my father whether I could learn dancing,” she says. “He told me that it is not meant for people who belong to a certain class. So you can imagine what would have happened if I asked about modelling, which is what I actually wanted to do. He did not allow me to mingle with the other girls in the locality. So I was living in a cage. I wanted to do so many things, but did not get the opportunity.”

At Vinayaka, Jeemol met and fell in love with Jaibin. They got married in 2000 and settled in Kochi, where they run a dental clinic. She has a daughter, Anna, who is a Cl;ass 6 student at Rajagiri Public School, Kalamaserry. The years went past, but her yearning to take part in beauty contests persisted inside her like a dull ache. When the Mrs. Kerala contest came up, she begged her husband to allow her to take part. It took a while before he finally gave his consent.

Says Jibin: “It was my duty to support her. I know that other Malayali husbands would have said no, but that attitude is slowly changing.”

Meanwhile, Jeemol's future plans include taking part in beauty pageants and setting up an aesthetic dental clinic. “I did a six-month course on the subject from the Eastman Dental Institute in London,” she says. “I want to be a good dentist and also follow my passion of being a model.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

Seeing the future wide-eyed

2011-09-17T09:19:00.000+05:30

Babu Kalayil has foretold many events including the 2004 tsunami, as well as the recent earthquake and tsunami in Japan. He talks about this gift of extra-sensory perception

By Shevlin Sebastian

On some nights, moments before he goes to sleep, Babu Kalayil feels his head become hot. Soon, he hears a buzzing sound in his ears. These are all precursors to a vision that he sees through his 'inner eye' or imagination. It lasts for a couple of minutes and then vanishes. “Thereafter, I can recall the image, and try to understand its meaning,” he says.

In September, 2004, Babu saw this visual of water receding from a shore and then coming back and hitting the banks with great force. “I could see people being swept away,” he says. “When I told the press about this, the Malayalam media did not pay any attention, but the Tamil newspapers did so." On December 26, the tsunami hit Japan and parts of south India also, including Kerala. "I was vindicated,” he says.

All India Radio journalist, Biju Mathew, who featured Babu in his documentary on predicting natural disasters for the United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific, says: “Babu told me of the recent Japanese tsunami and earthquake one month before the event. He also predicted the earthquake, which measured 3.6 on the Richter scale that took place recently in the Kottayam and Idukki districts.” Babu also spoke about the 2002 earthquake in Gujarat, long before it happened.

Babu saw his first vision when he was 24 years old. “I felt that that I had lost my mind," he says. Puzzled and worried, Babu did research and discovered that he has extra-sensory perception. "When your sixth sense comes awake, you will be able to see visions, like I do," he says.

Babu is now predicting that the Mullaperiyar Dam is in trouble. “By 2015, there will be a strong earthquake where the dam is located,” he says. “A part of the structure will get damaged.”

Recently, Babu, who is based in Thiruvananthapuram, met Chief Minister Oommen Chandy and apprised him about his fears regarding the dam. He says that the government has set up a committee and Rs 3 crore has been allotted to find out about the likelihood of an earthquake.

Not surprisingly, many people call him a fraud. “But I have been vindicated many times,” he says. “Initially, my own friends spoke against me. But now things have changed and they have accepted my gift.”

One who was a skeptic before was Dr. Arul Prakash, a sociologist with the Tamil Nadu Open University at Nagercoil. “I got interested in Babu when Tamil newspapers published his predictions,” he says. “But what surprised me was that each time he turned out to be right.” Dr. Arul says that the government should take what Babu says seriously.

“Babu has the gift of Extra-Sensory Perception (ESP),” he says. “Very few people possess this. In countries like Japan, Australia, and America, universities have set up special ESP departments, where they can study this phenomenon.”

The unusual thing about Babu's gift is that he can only predict natural disasters and what takes place in outer space. And although this will sound fantastic, he has brought out a book on a new planet that he has discovered.

It is called Demigo and is located 270 million kilometres from earth. “The trees and mountains are red or pink,” he says. “There are birds, but unlike on earth, they have four wings.” The animals are two-legged, while there are also beings, 4.5 ft. in height, who walk very fast, with their arms are held firmly by their sides. “When they talk, their lips move, but no sound comes out,” says Babu. “They wear gowns that cover their body from head to foot.” He also describes in details their habitat and mode of travel.

Is this far-fetched? Consider this news: Astronomers have discovered 50 new distant planets, including one that could be habitable. An extrasolar planet is outside the solar system. So far, 605 extrasolar planets in 508 systems had been identified.

Meanwhile, in order to prove that Demigo exists, Babu got in touch with the Washington-based National Aeronautics and Space Administration. Robert F. Rotella, senior patent attorney, wrote a letter asking Babu to “send a proposal to seek a grant for further development of your ideas.”

The most unusual aspect of Babu is his eyes. Black in colour, the eyes look strange and ethereal. They give the impression that Babu does not live on Planet earth; instead, he is travelling vast distances through his inner eye.

Only time, and a rigorous scientific examination, which Babu says he is willing to undergo, will confirm whether his gift of seeing the future is genuine or not.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Bible scenes in a Kathakali play

2011-09-16T12:33:00.000+05:30

Vignettes from the life of Jesus Christ were enacted in a Kathakali drama. It received an enthusiastic response

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photo: Jesus Christ in Kathakali garb

One day, a year ago, in a burst of inspiration, Fr. Joy Chencheril wrote a long poem on the Christian Mass. While he was pondering over it, an idea struck him. 'Why not make this poem into a Kathakali drama?' he thought. “We Christians should promote Kathakali, which is a dying art,” says Fr. Joy, who belongs to the Missionary Congregation of the Blessed Sacrament. “Very few people care for it. Only foreigners come to see it. Not many temples organise Kathakali performances during their annual feasts.”

When he was a child growing up in Mannar, in Kottayam district, Fr. Joy had attended many Kathakali performances at nearby temples and had grown to love it. Hence, he decided he would do something about it.

He approached Radha Madhavan, who is a well-known attakatha writer. An atthakatha is a story running alongside aKathakali drama. “I was very enthusiastic,” says Radha. “I have a lot of respect for other religions.”

One of the reasons for the lack of popularity of Kathakali is because the shlokas are in Sanskrit. But Radha and Fr. Joy worked closely, over six months, to render the shlokas in Malayalam.

“The aim was that even if you do not understand the hand and leg movements and the facial expressions, you can still follow the drama,” says Fr. Joy. Incidentally, this is the eighth attakatha written by Radha.

The drama, called 'Divyakarunya Charitham', was staged recently at a packed hall in the Basilica of Our Lady of Dolours in Thrissur.

“The play begins with Pontius Pilate, the Roman Prefect of Judaea, asking his wife why she is gloomy,” says Radha. “She replies that she saw a dream in which God tells her that a man who has not done any sin should not be punished. Pilate replies, brusquely, 'Do not interfere in political matters.'”

There is also a scene between Pilate and Judas Iscariot, a disciple of Jesus Christ, who agrees to betray him, by kissing him on the cheek, in exchange of 30 pieces of silver. This meeting does not take place in the Bible. “I used creative license,” says Fr. Joy.

After the Last Supper, in Jerusalem, where he washes the feet of his disciples, Jesus sets out with them to the Garden of Gethsemane. At the garden, Judas betrays Jesus by kissing him. Soldiers then take Jesus to Pilate, who gives the order for Him to be crucified. Jesus then carries the cross on the road to Cavalry, where he is crucified, and resurrected three days later.

The audience has a rapt look on their faces as they watch Christian words and themes being enacted by artistes of an ancient Hindu dance form. In fact, apart from the role of Jesus Christ, which is played by Ebin Jose, all the other parts are played by Hindus. A few of the performers belong to the one of the well-known Kathakali schools in the state: the Kerala Kalamandalam. The choreography was done by Kalamandalam Sajan, who acts as Pilate's wife.

“We used the same costumes and instruments as in any other Kathakali play,” says Sajan. “It was only for the character of Jesus Christ that we had to add a wig and a beard. I did feel a bit apprehensive, because we needed to stick to the historical Jesus, as well as keep it in the Kathakali tradition.”

In the end, it is a superb programme, interrupted now and then by sustained applause. Dr. James Manimala, a Malayalam professor, who watched the play, says, “For centuries Christians had regarded the Kathakali as a Hindu art form, dedicated to the epics like the Ramayana, the Mahabarata and the Puranas. So, it is astonishing and wonderful that a Bible theme has been portrayed. I am sure there will be many more Kathakali plays, based on the Bible, after this.”

Says Kathakali fan N.G. R. Nair: “It is a welcome step in the Indianisation of Christianity. The cultural assimilation of different religions is the key to national integration.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

Preserving the old

2011-09-15T10:20:00.000+05:30

The 500-year-old St. Francis Xavier Church at Fort Kochi, the oldest in India, and a magnet for tourists, is undergoing a renovation under the direction of the Archaelogical Survey of India

By Shevlin Sebastian

Workmen are removing parts of the wooden staircase that leads up to the balcony of the St. Francis church at Fort Kochi. "This will be replaced by slices of teak wood," says Dr. M. Nambirajan, Superintending Archaeolgist of the Archaelogical Survey of India (ASI), which is responsible for the upkeep of the church. "We are doing this work during the monsoon season when the number of visitors are less.” The estimated cost is Rs 20 lakh. The work has been going on for a couple of months now.

On an earlier visit, a few weeks ago, a drilling sound can be heard even before one enters the church. Just inside the door, a thick piece of wood, 12m long, lies on the floor. The upper-half is sturdy, but at the middle, there is a gaping hole. “It has been eaten by termites,” says Nambirajan.

Apart from this beam, which had formed the central part of the balcony, near the entrance, several wooden planks have been removed. They have now been replaced with high-quality teak.

According to archaelogical principles, only the part which has been damaged has to be replaced. “If we remove the entire beam, it will damage the antiquity of the church,” he says. The ASI also removed some damaged planks on the roof. These have been replaced with new ones and plastic sheets placed over it. Thereafter, red tiles have been installed.

The St. Francis Xavier Church, which was constructed in 1503, is one of the oldest churches in India. It was built by the Portuguese and the walls are more three feet wide. It is made of laterite stone mixed with lime. When you push against it, you can sense the massive strength. The roof is like the hull of a boat.

“There is no church like this in Kerala, or in India,” says Rev. Abraham Kuriakose, the parish priest, who belongs to the Church of South India. Unusually, there are ventilation windows at one side only. So, there are no reverberations. “No matter how loud the mike, there is no echo," says Kuriakose. "When the choir sings on the balcony, we can hear it effortlessly at the altar, thanks to the skill of those ancient engineers.”

The other attractions include the wooden altar, and the tombstone of Vasco Da Gama -- the Portuguese explorer who came to Cochin in 1502. He died in 1524 and his body was buried in the church. However, 14 years later, the remains were exhumed and taken back to Portugal. On the walls of both sides, there are Portuguese and Dutch gravestones. The Dutch took control of the church in 1663.

“Many of our visitors are Dutch,” says Kuriakose. There is a Dutch cemetery nearby, as well as a baptism and marriage register called the 'Doop Book' which has recorded entries between 1751 and 1804. A photostat copy of this can be accessed by visitors. “The Dutch are very interested in their roots,” says Kuriakose.

Incidentally, the church receives visitors from all over the world, including the USA, UK, Australia, and Europe. During the peak season, from September to March, the number of guests reaches upto 2000 a day. “Many foreigners want to get their marriage blessed in an old church,” he says.

The church has a special reputation. “What you pray for, that you get,” says Kuriakose. The vicar knows of many childless couples who have prayed for a baby and their wishes have been granted. As a result, apart from Christians, Hindus and Muslims also pray at the church.

For software professional, Rajiv Mondal, from Hyderabad, it has been an enjoyable experience. “I have been to the St. Francis Xavier church in Panjim,” he says. “But this church has an old-world atmosphere.” For Rohit Goyal, a professor of civic engineering from the Malaviya National Institute of Technology in Jaipur, the building is a marvel. “I can only admire the way the arches have been built,” he says, gazing up at the structure.

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

An unsafe world for boys

2011-09-14T08:26:00.000+05:30

Many boys have homosexual experiences, most of the time against their will. As a result, their sexual orientation changes. Counselling can help resolve some of the problems

By Shevlin Sebastian

Regi Chacko was 16 years old when he was brought for counselling by his worried parents. He was throwing temper tantrums and fighting with his classmates. When psychologist Dr. Prakash Chandra spoke with him, the truth was uncovered. Regi was tormented by his sexual desire for males. And it all began when he slept next to his grandfather, Thomas, when he was six years old. The old man molested Regi.

“This carried on for six years,” says Prakash. “The grandfather told him to be silent. A traumatised Regi did not tell his parents.” When the boy became a teenager, he began having a sexual relationship with other males, especially older men. “Regi developed a homosexual attitude,” says Prakash. “He would get into a bus and push against another man. If the man did not respond, he would try with another passenger.”

Through counselling Prakash has tried hard to re-orient the boy's fantasies from boys to girls. “It took quite a while before Regi stopped thinking about men,” says the counsellor. Of course, it was another matter that Regi's mother, whose father had done the damage, was profoundly shocked and hurt. But by the time the revelations came out, the old man had died.

Soman Chandrasekhar, 18, is from Allapuzha. When he was a child he was seduced by the car driver. When he became a teenager, he would bring young boys home and molest them. “When too many boys kept coming to the house, the parents got suspicious,” says Prakash. “During counselling, Soman confessed that he had homosexual tendencies. Sometimes, their mental conditioning can be changed, but there are many boys who become life-long homosexuals.”

Apart from molestations, teenagers also get curious about homosexuality when they see porn on the Internet. “By watching pornographic films, children try to imitate these perverse acts,” says Dr Gracy Thomas, Medical Officer of the Adolescent Reproductive Sexual Health (APSH) programme, Ernakulam district.

ARSH psychologist Divya Ajay says that older schoolchildren take younger boys, who are eight or nine years old, to an isolated area and force them to do oral sex. “Most of the time, the youngsters are not aware of what is happening,” she says. “But they know that they are doing something wrong.”

There is an immediate fallout to this: the children’s studies get affected. “They start doing poorly at school,” she says. “In counselling I explain to them what is right and wrong and how to resist when somebody is trying to make them do wrong.”

These are trying times. Parents have to be vigilant regarding their children. They need to take precautions. “If boys are allowed to sleep with other boys, be it their cousins or friends, there are chances of a homosexual experience,” says Prakash. “The elder boy might initiate the younger one. Sometimes, parents allow their boys to sleep with servants. That is a big mistake. Then they are allowed to sleep with elderly people. This is also an error.”

Children could sleep with the parents, but in these days of incest, that could be risky also. Says Divya: “Unfortunately, the home is not a safe place. I know of a man who molested his step-son.”

So, it seems the best way is for children to sleep alone. Parents should constantly monitor their children. “If there is any unusual behaviour like regular temper tantrums or poor results, the parents should intervene and try to find out what is wrong,” says Prakash. “The sooner you take the child to a counsellor, the better.”

(Some names have been changed)

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)