Edge-Of-The-Seat Suspense

Former police chief Meeran Chadha Borwankar talks about her career in the book, ‘Madam Commissioner – The Extraordinary Life of an Indian Police Chief’

By Shevlin Sebastian

In 2012, Jyoti Krishnan, an employee of a chartered accountancy firm in Pune, was on her way to work. Two men, pretending to be police officers, asked her to take off her gold necklace and ornaments and put it in her handbag as there was a theft in the neighbourhood. Jyoti did so. Then they distracted her by pointing at something in the distance. Later, they left on their bike.

When Jyoti checked her bag, the ornaments were missing. It was then she realised she had been duped. Jyoti decided to contact Pune City Commissioner Meeran Borwankar. Jyoti had met Meeran twice earlier because was a client at the chartered accountancy firm where she worked.

Meeran asked what the thieves looked like.

“They were very fair and looked like Iranis,” said Jyothi.

It took one month, but the police caught the thieves in Mumbai. Their modus operandi was to steal in Pune and flee to Mumbai.

The goldsmith had melted the jewellery. But he gave jewellery worth its value to Jyothi.

This is one example. There may be hundreds of such cases where Meeran might have intervened and restored the stolen items.

This stellar officer has written a book called ‘Madam Commissioner- The Extraordinary Life of an Indian Police Chief’ (Pan Macmillan Publishers).

The book details Meeran’s experiences as she handled communal riots, faced dacoits, criminals and robbers, came across brutal murders, and investigated the Jalgaon sex scandal, where minors had been gang raped by politicians and criminals.

She also oversaw the hanging of 26/11 terrorist Ajmal Kasab and the 1993 Mumbai blasts convict Yakub Memon.

Meeran described in detail the extraordinary heist of a Joyalukkas jewellery showroom in Hyderabad on May 16, 2006. Jewellery worth Rs 9 crore had been stolen. Through some deft sleuthing and deductions, within days, the Crime Branch in Mumbai was able to apprehend the main criminal Vinod Singh and his associate Ajay Jawahar Singh who had fled to the coastal city.

Meeran writes, ‘In the past such sensational detections and recoveries of gold and diamonds had led to allegations of embezzlement by the police. In light of that, I did not leave the office, nor did I get up to take a bathroom break, until the documentation had been completed, and every piece accounted for.’

Thanks to Meeran and her team, all the jewellery was recovered.

There is a theory that no matter how bad a person is, there is something good in him or her. Meeran nods and says, “I have seen the worst criminals being wonderful parents or neighbours. And genuinely so.”

Once the Crime Branch in Mumbai had intercepted a call from underworld gangster, Chhota Rajan, who was living abroad. He was speaking to his wife, Sujatha, whose nickname was Nani.

Chhota Rajan whether his three daughters were studying well. His wife replied in the affirmative. Then he said, “Nani, our daughters should study hard and sit for the IPS.”

This statement came as a surprise for Meeran. “It proves that even a hardened criminal like Chhota Rajan respects the law,” says Meeran.

Of course, the elephant in the room is the pressure exerted by politicians to do something unlawful.

How did Meeran manage this pressure?

“During training, we were told that political interference is a grave issue,” says Meeran. “You have to respect politicians because they are representatives of the public. But you have to do what you feel is correct. And be ready for the consequences.”

Like most honest officers, Meeran had paid the price in stifled promotions and other problems.

Apart from politicians, the massive corruption in the force is now a major issue.

Asked about the way to eradicate corruption, Meeran says, “Around 98 percent of the corruption can be eradicated by a strong watch by the community and the media. The government should expand the counter intelligence and anti-corruption units. Most states have small and ill-equipped units that nobody is scared of.”

In a police force, 40 percent are honest, 40 percent are fence sitters, and 20 percent are gone cases, says Meeran. These fence sitters will get afraid if there are very strong anti-corruption units. And a very important tool to reduce corruption is to ensure the police worked for only eight hours, instead of the 14 they do today.

“They justify their corruption by saying they work for 14 hours for a poor salary,” says Meeran. “In their own minds, taking money is justified.”

As to whether an officer can be damaged by constantly dealing with criminals, murderers, and thieves, Meeran says, “To a certain extent, yes. Before joining the police, I trusted people. But now my antenna is always alert. I don’t believe people easily. I have seen people cheat each other every day for decades. My years in the force has made me aware of the darker side of human nature. So I am always on alert, as compared to an average person.”

Career Highlights

Meeran Chadha Borwankar has been the recipient of the President of India Police Medal for Distinguished Services and Police Medal for Meritorious Services, and has won the Distinguished Leadership Award from the University of Minnesota.

Some of the posts she held include being the Director General of the Bureau of Police Research and Development, and the National Crime Records Bureau, Police Commissioner, Pune City, and Chief of the Crime Branch, Mumbai.

Meeran was Maharashtra State’s first female district police chief as well as its first woman commissioner.

Meeran is on the board of several academic institutions.

‘Madam Commissioner’ is her third book. The earlier two were called ‘Leaves of Life’ and ‘Inspector Chougule (True Police Stories)’

‘Spisoh’, a South Indian restaurant in Stavanger, Norway came into the limelight when top Indian chess players became patrons

Captions: (From left) Owner Susheel Hadigal, Praggnanandhaa Rameshbabu, Vaishali, Nagalakshmi, and Nitish Kamath; Koneru Humpy (second from right)  

When the food reminds one of home

By Shevlin Sebastian 

In late May, there is a top-tier chess championship, which is held in Stavanger, conducted by Norway Chess. This year, ‘Spisoh’, a South Indian restaurant, became a sponsor. 

“Our thought process was simple,” said Nitish Kamath, a co-owner. “All the Indian players who take part are primarily from South India. So we thought we would become a sponsor and offer our food free for all the players.” 

Koneru Humpy, India’s No 1 and world No 4, was an early customer. “Koneru ordered earlier in the day. When her match concluded at 9 p.m., she came to the restaurant and collected it,” said Nitish. “She has been ordering every day.” Her favourite is Hyderabadi biryani, Kodi Vepudu (Andhra-style chilly chicken) and tomato rasam.  

On May 31, during the rest day, rising star, grandmaster Rameshbabu Praggnanandhaa, came for dinner. He was accompanied by his sister Vaishali, a grandmaster herself, and mother Nagalakshmi. 

Praggnanandhaa asked Nitish, “What do you recommend?” 

Nitish said, “Since you are from Tamil Nadu, why don’t you have Kozhi (Chicken) Milagu curry?” 

He said, “Okay, fine.” 

Praggnanandhaa opted to have it with Kerala parotta. 

Vaishali and Nagalakshmi ordered ghee dosa.  

A smiling Nitish told Nagalakshmi, “Praggnanandhaa always looks very serious.”

Nagalakshmi replied, “I always tell him to smile, but he is in a different world during a tournament.” 

They laughed.  

Last year, D. Gukesh, another leading Indian grandmaster, came to the restaurant along with his father Dr. Rajnikanth, an ENT surgeon. While Gukesh came sporadically during the two-week tournament, his father came daily. He ordered the same dish: lamb masala.  

Because of their sponsorship, the co-owners could make the ceremonial first move in most matches. After it is done, the player brings the pawn back to the first row and the play starts. American player Hikaru Nakamura, of Japanese origin, told co-owner Raghu Bala, “You can make any move. I will continue from there.” 

So Raghu played the Sicilian Gambit. Nakamura, as promised, carried on, and ended up winning the match against Praggnanandhaa. “Raghu got very excited,” said Nitish.  

The story of Spisoh

The idea of a restaurant came casually. A few Indians worked in the IT and oil and gas industry in Stavanger (550 kms from Oslo). They had been living in this city of 1.4 lakh people for over 15 years. Rohini Sasidharan, the wife of one Indian immigrant, Rathish Kunnath, found it difficult to get a job. So, she suggested the idea of opening a restaurant with her husband and his friends.  

“We were cautious, as none of us have any experience in the food industry,” said Nitish. They discovered there were eight Indian restaurants in Stavanger. They were run by Indians, Pakistanis and Bangladeshis. All of them provided similar fare like butter chicken, chicken tikka masala, paneer and nan. So, the group thought they should stick to their South Indian roots, as most of them were from Kerala. And hence they decided to start a South Indian restaurant. 

“We wanted to cultivate a new taste in this region,” said Nitish. The name, Spis-oh, is a combination of Spiser (Eating in Norsk) and Khaoh (Eating in Hindi) 

In July 2021, during Covid, they rented a small kitchen in a remote area in Stavanger and began as a takeaway outlet. “The idea was to test out whether this type of food would have takers,” said Nitish. 

At this time, Raghu met a chef, Aswin Sreekanthan, who had lost his job during Covid. He had been working in an Italian restaurant in Oslo and previously headed a chain of hotels in Portugal. Aswin told Raghu he was from Chennai and was keen to remain in Norway. So, they hired him. Soon, the takeaway became popular.  

On March 4, 2023, they started the 30-seater Spisoh, in Løkkeveien, which is the city centre. There are five major hotels in the area. 

Asked about their clientele, Nitish said, “From Tuesday to Thursday, Norwegians and Europeans who are travelling to Stavanger for business meetings come to have a bite.” 

From Thursday to Saturday, it is local Norwegians and Indians. The population of Indians is around 3500. 

The local Pakistanis, Sri Lankan, and Bangladeshis are also customers. “Many Pakistanis have only partaken of North Indian food,” said Nitish. “So having South Indian food is a novelty for them, especially idli and dosa.”  

As for their future plans, Nitish said, “There is a social element behind continuing. We saved our chef, Aswin, from returning to India and got him a job contract. Now he has brought his family to Stavanger. Aswin’s son is studying in a Norwegian school, while his wife works in a hotel. Aswin has bought a car.”

A few married women, who have come on a dependent visa, work at Spisoh as kitchen assistants, front-office and cleaning staff. The owners are enabling them to earn an extra income. 

Nitish said, “It is a bit of a struggle for immigrants in the initial years to settle down. Spisoh is about food, but it is also about giving opportunities to the Indian diaspora.”

And providing food and bonhomie to chess stars, too.

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

 

Helping to become self-reliant

Captions: Dr. Kalpana Sankar; Dr. Kalpana Sankar meeting people; Dr. Percy Barnevik

Dr. Kalpana Sankar is the Co-Founder of Hand in Hand India. She has helped lakhs of people to become entrepreneurs

By Shevlin Sebastian

Whenever Dr. Kalpana Sankar thinks about Meera Soundarajan, a smile breaks out on her face.

Meera belonged to the backward Irula community. She stayed in the village of Chinnakadambathur in Thiruvallur District, Tamil Nadu. The family eked out a living by working in brick kilns, going into the forests to cut wood and graze the cattle. They were always on the move. Because of this, Meera and her three younger siblings had to drop out of school.

Thanks to the intervention of Kalpana, Meera was enrolled in school. In 2018, Meera reached Class 10. After her stellar performance in the final exams, Meera won the ‘Pratibha Award’. This is given to meritorious students by the Government of Andhra Pradesh. The other siblings are also studying in lower classes. “They have a bright future,” said Kalpana.

Kalpana’s life changed when she met Dr. Percy Barnevik on May 2, 2004, in Kancheepuram, Tamil Nadu. Percy is a Swedish business executive. On a visit to Tamil Nadu, he saw first-hand the devastating impact of child labour in the silk saree industry. At that time, Kalpana was working with the Tamil Nadu Women’s Development Project.

Percy asked Kalpana whether she would join him in his mission. She accepted the offer. They set up Hand in Hand India.

The organisation has helped women get jobs or become entrepreneurs and free the children to go to school.

“Unless you empower the families, they will not send the children to school,” said Kalpana. The group targeted the mothers by providing looms and sewing machines, at subsidised rates. Later, they began to help the men and the youth.

For the youth, they provided skills training. They learned to become plumbers and electricians and to be eligible for the armed forces. Thereafter, Hand in Hand India began working with farmers.

“We are very keen for people to become entrepreneurs,” said Kalpana. “So we are willing to give loans. We provide options for the trade they could enter into. In that way, they can become independent. We try to inculcate the concept that everybody has potential.”

To provide finance to Hand in Hand India, Kalpana set up the Belstar Microfinance Limited. She is the Managing Director. The Muthoot Group is a major shareholder. The funding is provided by philanthropists, both in India and abroad, corporates and the government.

But there has been a dark spot: the Covid epidemic. “It was a major setback,” said Kalpana. “Many entrepreneurs are yet to recover completely from the financial blow.” So far, the organisation, which has branches in 18 states, has helped 40 lakh women.

Recently, Kalpana saw film director Kiran Rao’s well-received ‘Laapataa Ladies’ on Netflix. In the film, a lost bride, at a railway station, cannot tell the name of her new husband’s village to the stationmaster. So, he is unable to help. Kalpana told her staff to show it to the women who come to their centres. She hoped they would understand the importance of education.

Kalpana’s parents also stressed to her the importance of education. She has a doctorate in Nuclear Science and Women’s Studies and Self-Help Groups. And an Executive MBA from the prestigious TRIUM through modules in London, Paris and New York.

Asked whether the middle class lives in a cocoon, Kalpana said, “I don’t blame anybody. For various reasons, there is a rich/poor divide. So people are self-absorbed. What they need is sensitisation. Once they become aware of poverty and issues relating to it, they do reach out to help.”

One way for early sensitisation is for students of schools and colleges to spend time in the villages. “Only then will they understand what is happening. Then they will be able to contribute in a way to bridge the divide,” said Kalpana.

Most people are not sure whether state governments are helping the poor or not. But Kalpana said that everybody is doing something. “But because of our huge population not everybody can get the benefits,” she said. “The good news is that numerous people have moved from the ‘below poverty line’ to the middle class. They have bought TVs, refrigerators and two-wheelers. Many are determined to educate their children.”

But Kalpana has a suggestion. Central and State governments should set up programmes to encourage entrepreneurship. “Then the people will be able to generate incomes and be contributing members of society,” she said.

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

An upside-down view

Artist Zakkir Hussain uses inverted logic in his drawings

By Shevlin Sebastian

On most days, artist Zakkir Hussain would stand at the window of his studio at Kadavanthra, Kochi. Mango and drumstick trees are growing in his backyard. Often, he would see a sparrow fly in and peck at a mango.

He wondered, in the name of development, if the tree was cut down, would the bird have a memory of the tree? Or if the sparrow died, would the tree have a recollection of it?

Zakkir felt that everything on earth was under threat, be it human beings, animals, birds, trees, and nature. Such was the precariousness of life.

Over the past three years, he did a series of brush drawings using Indian Ink. Around 54 works are on display at the Berth Art Gallery in Mattancherry. The drawings range in size from 30” x 22” and 28” x 22”.

“I like Indian ink because it is risky,” he said. “You cannot make tonal variations. Black or white is the only possibility. This is the best way to convey my present moods and thoughts.”

Zakkir titled his work ‘Obliterated Stories’. He wanted to show that the recently implemented crime laws in India are obliterating the concept of personal freedom. “I want to highlight the social tensions,” said Zakkir. “The relationship between human beings should be harmonious. They should be a beacon of light to each other. People should express kindness, love and benevolence.”

At first glance, you realise Zakkir has negated the idea of logic in his work.

There is a drawing of a young woman in which her breast is exposed. On the left side of the drawing, a male hand is clutching her arm. Behind her eyes, there is a drawing of a mother and child. From there, a line goes downwards and at the end, there are a series of houses hanging upside down.

“Through the houses, I wanted to show that women, sometimes, are forced to leave from one place to another,” Zakkir said. A dog is visible near her open mouth. It is as if the woman wants to speak but cannot do so. “The girl is going through an inner trauma. She has no language to express herself because society does not allow her,” said Zakkir.

Another drawing is of a young woman with exposed breasts. In her hand, she is holding the branch of a tree which has impaled her palm. A sparrow sits on the branch. From the ear, a Kerala traditional lamp juts out. At its end, there is an image of an upside-down face of a girl. There is another image of a bird whose beaks have been tied with a string.

As to his influences, Zakkir said that he has drawn inspiration from artists like Somnath Hore, Benode Behari Mukherjee, Ramkinkar Baij, and KP Krishnakumar.

So far, he has had a successful career. Zakkir has exhibited at the Vadehra Art Gallery in Delhi, Gallery Ske in Bangalore, Gallery OED, Kochi, The Guild Art Gallery, Mumbai, Conflictorium, Ahmedabad, Gallery White, Baroda, Zuzeum Art Centre, Riga, Latvia and Gallery Krinzinger, Vienna. He took part in the inaugural edition of the Kochi Muziris Biennale.

At present, Zakkir is on a two-month residency at a private museum in Zurich.

Beginnings

Zakkir got interested in art from an early age. He grew up in the village of Chadiroor in Alleppey district. For his Plus Two, he studied at Maharaja’s College in Kochi. He was a Left sympathiser. One of his friends, Sabu Dinesh, asked Zakkir to do some drawings on some posters. Instead of political slogans, Sabu used poems from some of Latin America’s greatest poets, like Pablo Neruda and Octavia Paz.

So Zakkir did drawings, using Indian Ink, to match the words. Zakkir and Dinesh pasted these posters in public spaces like bus stops and shop windows. “I felt excited because I had done a sort of social communication,” said Zakkir. “The positive response from the people also got me interested in art.”

Zakkir got admission to do a degree course at the College of Fine Arts in Thiruvananthapuram. During this period, he met and fell in love with Sreeja P, an aspiring artist. They got married in 1999. Both did a course in graphics at the Maharaja Sayajirao University in Baroda. Later, they settled in Kochi.

While Zakkir has been a full-time artist since 2004, Sreeja teaches at a nearby school. They have a son who is doing his MSc at the University of Freiburg, Germany.

Asked to sum up his work, Zakkir said, “I want to develop a new language, thought processes and metaphors. It is an ongoing process.”

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

An extraordinary life

In this well-researched biography on Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay, historian Nico Slate delves into the life of one of the great women achievers of India in the 20th century

By Shevlin Sebastian

Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay got the first shock of her life when her beloved father, Dhareshwar Ananthya, a Chitrapur Saraswat Brahmin, suddenly passed away. She was only seven years old.

The second shock was to learn that because her father had not left a will behind, the vast property went to a stepbrother. ‘I woke up from a daze,’ wrote Kamaladevi. ‘This was what Mother had been alerting me about. Women had no rights and we should qualify to stake our claims and assert them. This question was not of possessions but of principle.’

Worried about her daughter’s future, her mother Girijabai arranged for her, at age 11, to get married. The groom was the son of one of Mangalore’s wealthiest men, Nayampalli Subbarao. The boy was a few years older. A little over a year later, her husband died. Now, Kamaladevi had become a child widow and expected to remain one for the rest of her life.

In a book she wrote called, ‘The Awakening of Indian Women’ (1939), Kamaladevi wrote, ‘Widows were souls in agony. They were relegated to a life of servility with scant regard for their feelings or needs. They are even regarded as objects of ill-omen.’

When you read the book, ‘Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay – The Art of Freedom’, by historian Nico Slate, you realise she is one of the great women achievers of India in the 20th century.

Kamaladevi handled a massive refugee rehabilitation programme, at today’s Faridabad, following the partition of India in 1947. She was the force behind the renaissance of handicrafts and handloom all over the country. Kamaladevi set up several institutions. These included the Sangeet Natak Akademi, the National School of Drama and the Crafts Council of India.

Kamaladevi was also a driving force in the Independence movement. She was close to Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru. And because of that proximity, she dared to stand up to Gandhi.

In 1930, Gandhi set off in a procession, from Sabarmati Ashram to Dandi, a distance of 275 kms, to protest the salt laws of the British. To her astonishment, Kamaladevi found out that there were no women participants.

She met Gandhi in a small town on the way and told him, “The significance of a non-violent struggle is that the weakest can take an equal part with the strongest and share in the triumph.” Gandhi had no option but to permit women to take part.

When Gandhi realised Kamaladevi was having a contentious relationship with senior Congress leader Sardar Patel, he encouraged her to spend time with him. So, Kamaladevi went to Patel’s home at Bardoli (35 kms from Surat).

Patel gave her a tour of his garden and orchard. This changed her understanding of Patel, the person. She wrote: ‘Here was a person other than the renowned ‘Iron Man’ handling seedlings with incredible sensitivity and with a rare soft light in his usual stern eyes.’

Slate also tackled the rumours of whether Kamaladevi had a romantic relationship with Nehru. There was nothing to show that there was a physical connection. But Kamaladevi wrote with a great deal of tenderness about Nehru. This could have raised eyebrows.

Here is a section: ‘The far-away look in his eyes speaks of hidden dreams. Once that deep-set mouth must have broken into smiles oftener; those firm lips melted into softer lines; the stern eyes danced with a more tender light. Those delicately shaped hands, the exquisitely chiselled feet, all so eloquent of a dream-laden soul, are today masked by the hard relentless marks of terrible struggle, which he so characteristically embodies in himself as the representative of a nation in the throes of a fierce battle.’

In her personal life, Kamaladevi faced many challenges. She got divorced, after 22 years, from a philandering Harindranath Chattopadhyay. He was a poet, dramatist, actor and musician, and the younger brother of political activist Sarojini Naidu. Their son Rama felt neglected. That’s because Kamaladevi, a world traveller, struggled to raise her son while remaining dedicated to the freedom struggle and being repeatedly imprisoned.

This is a deeply researched book. It provides an in-depth look at this magnificent personality. Slate is a Professor of History and Head of the Department of History at Carnegie Mellon University, USA. This is the third book in the ‘Indian Lives’ series. The book is edited and curated by noted historian and writer Ramachandra Guha.

In the foreword, Guha has provided an interesting comparison: ‘Perhaps only Rabindranath Tagore matched Kamaladevi in the range of multiple careers she led and the diverse social worlds she enriched.’

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