A Green Revolution, of a Different Kind

A former industrial engineer, Shubhendu Sharma, is planting forests all over the country to combat the degradation of the environment

 

By Shevlin Sebastian

In December, 2008, Dr. Akira Miyawaki came to give a talk to the staff of the Toyota car company at Bangalore. He is famous for creating natural forests in degraded environments in numerous countries. According to estimates, the 87-year-old Miyawaki has planted 4 crore trees in his lifetime.

 

In the audience, on that fateful day, was a young industrial engineer named Shubhendu Sharma. He was inspired by what he heard. “I realised that this is something which has to be done all over our country,” he says. It took Shubhendu two-and-a-half years to take the plunge, abandoning a brilliant career at Toyota, and heading in a direction which is rare for any middle-class boy in India.

 

His company, Afforestt Environmental Conservation Services, follows the Miyawaki method, with some minor modifications, to suit the Indian environment. So when Shubhendu comes across a barren land, one of the first things he does is to take samples of the top soil and from one metre deep.

This is taken to a laboratory where tests are done to find out the nutrients which are lacking. “If the soil does not have nitrogen I will look for a nutrient which is rich in nitrogen,” says Shubhendu. “This could be chicken manure from a poultry farm.”

He also checks the electrical conductivity which is a measure of how much water the soil can hold. Thereafter, a survey will be done to identify the native trees. Then orders will be placed with nurseries nearby to grow the saplings. 

“After that we will ensure availability of water,” says Shubhendu. “There has to be a boundary, like a barbed wire fence, on all sides, to prevent the saplings being eaten by cattle or taken away by people.”

An earth-mover is used to churn up the soil, and nutrients like herbs and organic manure are added. When this is done, the soil becomes very soft. 

“Once you provide such a soft medium, the penetration becomes very easy,” says Shubhendu. Within three months the roots of saplings will reach a depth of three feet. With such rapid growth a robust forest is created within three years. Incidentally, in an acre of land, 6000 trees can sprout up.

Thus far, Afforest has put up 17 forests – a total of 36,000 trees – in places like Nainital, Indore, Pune and Bangalore. “I feel a sense of urgency,” says Shubhendu. “According to worldwide statistics, every minute, forests the size of 36 football fields are being lost.” The maximum damage is being done in Indonesia and Latin America. Incidentally, his former company, Toyota, asked his help when it wanted to green its Pune plant. “I ended up making a forest of 10,000 trees on the perimeter,” he says.

Asked the advantage of having a forest in an urban area, Shubhendu says, “It adds 30 times more greenery to the area,” he says. “There is 30 times more carbon dioxide absorption and protection against noise pollution. If we start converting our lawns into forests we can save a lot of water because forests do not require water after three years. They also retain a lot of water. Every single tree contributes 60,000 gallons of water annually to the water table.”

In forests, you can also observe how nature behaves. “Nature will decide which tree will survive and which will not,” he says. “While there is continuous harmony, among the trees, there is also a ceaseless competition. The trees which are light-loving tend to grow tall, while those which are shade-oriented will stay shorter. So, a teak will shoot up, while a mango tree will flourish in its shade.”

For Shubhendu, his most moving experience occurred when he was planting trees for an IT company in Bangalore. Most of the employees came with their families to render help. He noticed a two-and-a-half-year-old girl who was planting the saplings all by herself. “She did it better than some grown-ups,” he says. “Even this small child knew how to plant saplings. This is something which is there in our genes that we have lost track of.”

He says that each and every person has a latent love of nature within them. “I have seen people get so deeply moved when they plant saplings that they become silent,” says Shubhendu. “For the next three hours, they get their connection back with nature. Many first-timers ask for more opportunities to plant saplings.”

And so, a former Toyota engineer is trying to spearhead a green revolution, of a different kind, in India. 

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

All about Words and Sentences

Fr. George Kurukkoor is the official translator of the Catholic Church in Kerala

By Shevlin Sebastian

Every morning, Fr. George Kurukkoor enters a first-floor room at the Pastoral Orientation Centre at Kochi and sits behind a table. There are several glass-paned bookcases on all sides. These contain books in Greek, Sanskrit, Latin, Portuguese, Urdu, Persian, Malayalam, Hindi, and Spanish. 

There are 46 dictionaries, apart from grammar books of various languages. There are works on philosophy, theology, the Bible and various religions like Hinduism, Islam, Buddhism, Jainism and Christianity. Then there are history books: history of the world, India , Kerala and the church.

Fr. George is the official translator of the Catholic Church in Kerala. And he dips into the books in his library when he is in search of a wood or a phrase. “The types of books that I have translated include those dealing with social justice, catechisms, the Bible, morals, and constitutions of institutions.”

The Kerala Catholic Bishops’ Council selects the books to be translated. “According to the Council, all the documents coming from Rome must be translated into Malayalam, and given to the people to read,” says Fr. George.  

But it is not an easy task. A 300-page book in Latin can take three months. “That is because I am translating from an Indo-European language to the Dravidian language,” says Fr. George. “The two families are quite different, so the exact style cannot be retained. Generally, a play of words, old sayings, and unusual grammatical sentences are avoided. If the source language is of the same family, translation is easier. So, Latin to English is easy, while Latin to Malayalam is difficult.”

So far, Fr George has translated 100 books in 22 years of non-stop work. On any given day, he begins at 8 a.m., and works non-stop -- with breaks for lunch, tea, an evening walk and dinner -- till 11.30 p.m.

It is easy for Fr. George to work long hours because the work is a passion for him. “I am very interested in languages and the new ideas that I come across while doing this,” he says.

But you have to be a particular type of person to do this job. Apart from a love of languages, the translator should be capable of sustained concentration. “A lot of time and mental effort is needed,” says Fr. George. “I don't watch TV or listen to the radio. I read the newspaper early in the morning for 15 minutes. When I begin to translate a work, it is the only thing on my mind. Without finishing it, I cannot do anything else.”

There are two types of translations: faithful and free. For the Bible, constitutions of institutions, documents and decrees from Rome, a faithful translation is needed. “So I do not change anything,” says Fr. George. “In faithful translations we cannot avoid using the exact wording, so it is not easy to read.” As for free translations, this is used for novels, essays and poetry. “The style and rhythm of the words can be changed according to the translated language,” says Fr. George.

The priest remembers fondly the first book that he translated. It was the ‘Rerum Novarum’ written by Pope Leo XIII in 1891. “The book is probably one of the earliest to talk about social justice,” says Fr. George. At that time, in Europe, employees were not given sufficient wages and remained exploited. Then the ideology of Communism arrived. “But the Pope wanted to say that Communism cannot save the people without the help of religion,” says Fr. George. “He wrote about the necessity for living wages to be given, and the need for private ownership, human rights, and freedom to practise one's religion.” Later, Fr. George translated ten such documents by various other popes.

Not surprisingly, Fr. George is getting kudos for his work. “Many people tell me they can understand the teachings of the church in a much better way because it is in Malayalam,” says Fr. George. “Earlier, they would have to read it in Latin or English. That is the feedback I have received from every bishop and diocese.”

And he has also been given a nickname because of his work. “Since I have translated so many works written by the Popes, I am called ‘The Pope of Malayalam’,” says Fr. George, with a smile.

Unfortunately, there is nobody to inherit Fr. George’s mantle. “Many young priests do not know Latin now because our seminaries are no longer teaching it,” says the 72-year-old priest. “Knowing Latin is necessary because it is the language still used by the Vatican. If the Pope has to write anything, he will do it in Latin only.”

Presently, a teacher of Sanskrit at the Major Seminary at Mangalapuzha, Aluva, Fr. George encourages his students to study Latin and Sanskrit. “These two languages will help in the proper translation of works into Malayalam,” he says. “Students should also study Syriac and Greek.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

A Polarising Impact

TV anchor and actress Ranjini Haridas has created powerful reactions, both positive and negative, in Kerala society

By Shevlin Sebastian

Sunil Mathew was in a good mood. After a hectic period of work, in his company in Dubai, he had taken a few days off to spend time with his family in Kochi. So, on May 16, humming a tune under his breath, he waited patiently in line in front of the emigration counter at the Cochin International Airport. It was a long queue and there were a few stars present. They included TV anchor and actress Ranjini Haridas, TV actress Asha Sharath and a top Mollywood comedian.

Suddenly, a man, Joji George (name changed) began shouting, at the top of his voice, at Ranjini, telling her that she had jumped the queue. “I was just behind Ranjini and she had not done such a thing,” says Sunil. “Joji began to shower the choicest of abuses, attacking her and her parents. Throughout Ranjini kept saying, 'Please mind your language'.”

A distressed Sunil, along with a few others, alerted the policemen who were standing nearby. After some effort, they managed to stop Joji's verbal abuse. “It was an upsetting situation,” says Sunil. “In fact, the one who should have been shouted at was the comedian, who had actually jumped the queue. What was surprising was how he kept quiet even as Joji was shouting. And Joji, through his actions, revealed his inherent bias and prejudice against a smart woman.”

There is something about Ranjini that provokes a strong emotional reaction, whether negative or positive.

“Whenever I think of Ranjini, the following words come to my mind: controversial, bold, and liberal,” says freelance writer Nandini Valsan. “She is proud to be who she is.”

Nandini saw her perform live at a show at the Durbar Hall. “I realised then that she has a magnetic personality,” she says. “Ranjini has the ability to mobilise an audience. That was when I began to appreciate her.”

Another event where Ranjini made her mark was when Bollywood superstar Shah Rukh Khan came to inaugurate a showroom in Kochi. “As a compere she could hold her own against a celebrity like Shah Rukh Khan,” says Nandini. “She was not star-struck, nor was she fumbling, and she knew her English well. Ranjini is a person you would like to have on stage, representing Kerala. I don't think we have a compere at present who has that kind of confidence.”

Anna, the wife of Ernakulam MLA, Hibi Eden, is also an admirer. “Ranjini has style and poise,” says Anna. “People say that she is arrogant and a show-off, but I have never seen that. I have observed her in public functions where she has been a spectator and at various shops in Kochi and she has always behaved well. I feel that because she is a public figure, people say many negative things about her.”

Leading the negative charge are the men. “Whatever Kerala men say about the need for women to be empowered, what he basically wants is a soft and passive woman who will obey him,” says Anna. “They are looking for a 'paavam' girl. And Ranjini is the opposite: she is strong, confident and assertive. When men see this they get irritated and angry and bad-mouth her.”

Of course, there are sociological reasons behind this. "The patriarchal values and attitudes are still very strong in Kerala society,” says Professor John Kattakayam, Professor Emeritus, Department of Sociology, University of Kerala. “As a result, people cannot tolerate liberated women within its fold. I do not want to judge the behavior of Ranjini, but it is time our society learnt to accept the 'liberated woman'. Otherwise, the claim that we are a 'progressive society' will be a hollow one." 

Meanwhile, the woman at the centre of the controversy remains forthright as ever. “There are many men who cannot stand the sight of a successful, self-thinking, hard-working woman,” says Ranjini. “This is not about me. I am just a representative of all the women, like me, who are out there. And we say, 'Bring it on!'”

Her bold stance has many supporters, especially among womenfolk, at all levels of society. Says Saritha Mohan, who works as a personal secretary: “I like Ranjini a lot. She lets off a lot of positive energy, charm, and happiness John

But Anna strikes a note of caution: “Many women do appreciate Ranjini, but there are some who are jealous of her success,” she says. “It is a positive sign that Ranjini is able to make people jealous of her. It means she is having an impact. The disappointing aspect is that our society still does not appreciate successful and confident women at all.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Two-way Traffic

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn
 
Mekha talks about life with film director Rajesh Pillai

Photo by Kaviyoor Santosh 

By Shevlin Sebastian

Once in a while, the Thiruvananthapuram-based film director Rajesh Pillai would drop in to see his cousin Swapna Latha at the Nair Service Society College in Haripad. Swapna's close friend, Mekha Manohar, would also be there. The trio would chat a bit. When Rajesh would call Swapna on the phone, sometimes, he would have a brief chat with Mekha also.

On September 6, 2004, Rajesh gave Swapna a call and told her he wanted to marry Mekha. “I did not know what to reply,” says Mekha. “In this situation, it is difficult to give an answer quickly.”

So Mekha asked for a week's time. She had doubts. She was not sure whether it would work out. “Rajesh is well-to-do, while I belong to a middle-class family,” says Mekha. “I was not certain whether I could adjust. I spoke to Swapna about this.”

Subsequently, Rajesh called Mekha and told her not to worry. That calmed Mekha down and she said yes to the marriage. But when she told her parents, Manoharan and Valsala Nair, they asked her to wait, since Mekha's elder sister, Milsa, was yet to get married.

But Rajesh was unwilling to wait for long. For one, his mother had died in 2002 and he was living alone with his father, Dr. K Raman Pillai, 84, a former head of the department of political science at Kerala University. Mekha fell into a dilemma: should she listen to her parents or follow her heart. In the end, she opted for love.

The couple had a registered marriage on June 1, 2005, in the presence of Rajesh's father and their relatives. Mekha did not inform her parents till after the event was over. Not surprisingly, they were upset by her decision and stopped talking to her.

In 2005, Rajesh was going through a difficult period, trying to establish his career as a director. “There was no question of a honeymoon,” says Mekha. Rajesh's film, 'Hridayathil Sookshikkan', had just been released, and did not make an impact. He was having a tough time trying to get a producer for his next film. “He met many of them, but nobody said yes,” says Mekha. “In fact, a few insulted him.”

Rajesh went into a period of depression. “I became worried and unhappy to see my husband in this situation,” says Mekha. “I have to thank scriptwriter Sanjay who befriended Rajesh, gave him self-help books and tried to boost his spirits.” Finally, producer Listin Stephen agreed to make Rajesh's next film, ‘Traffic’.

In the meanwhile, Mekha got a chance to see different facets of Rajesh's character. “He gets close to people quickly,” says Mekha. “But Rajesh also can read them very well. So, he has learnt to stay away from those who could cause problems.”

Mekha also likes his helping tendency. “This is not necessarily confined to friends,” she says. “Rajesh helps strangers also if they come and ask him for help.”

Perhaps the one drawback is that Rajesh can be short-tempered. “And he spends money easily,” says Mekha. “Sometimes, I get worried.”  

Like any creative person, Rajesh has unusual habits. On most nights, at 10 p.m., without fail, he will see films on the DVD, along with Mekha. “We see all types of films – Malayalam, English, Hindi, French and Spanish,” she says. “Sometimes, we see two films one after the other.”

Rajesh also likes to go on late night drives in and around Thiruvananthapuram. “That is the time of privacy for us,” says Mekha. “It is very romantic and we open our hearts to each other.”

Two years went past. Mekha was feeling upset that she had no contact with her parents. So, Rajesh took the initiative and she was reconciled with them, just before Milsa’s marriage to the Dubai-based Tulasidharan.  

For Mekha her happiest moment took place on January 7, 2011. That was the day when Rajesh’s path-breaking film, ‘Traffic’, was released. She watched the second show at a hall in Thiruvananthapuram, along with her father-in-law and other relatives. Rajesh was in Kochi at that time.

“The clapping in the hall made me ecstatic,” says Mekha. “I could not watch the film. Instead, I was observing the audience reaction.”

And the most moving event occurred when Rajesh’s father came out of the hall and had tears in his eyes. “For so many years, Rajesh was known as Prof. Raman Pillai’s son,” says Mekha. “After ‘Traffic’, my father-in-law is known as Rajesh’s father.”  

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram) 

A Touch of Spain in Kochi

Spanish couple, José Pérez Datas and Carmen Ospino, have been teaching their native language, as well as French to local adults, and spoken English and yoga to children for the past three years

Photo by Mithun Vinod

By Shevlin Sebastian

Roy Mathew got friendly with Adriana Miranda on Facebook. Very soon, he fell in love. But there was a problem. Roy lived in the Vypeen islands, near Kochi, while Adriana was in El Salvador. But an infatuated Roy decided that if he wanted to impress Adriana he needed to learn Spanish. 

A quick Google search and that was how Roy landed up at a large bungalow nearby called 'La Arcadia' in Ayyampilly. The Spanish couple, José Pérez Datas and Carmen Ospino have been teaching Spanish and French to professionals, apart from spoken English and yoga to children, for the past three years.

“It was the most unusual reason we received for learning Spanish,” says José, with a smile. “Roy told us he is going to bring his friends along so that they can also get friendly with girls in El Salvador.”

Others who come to learn include nurses, many of whom are migrating to Canada. Some are planning to go to French-speaking countries like Gabon and the Ivory Coast in Africa. “Sometimes, women have to learn Spanish to join their husbands who are already working abroad,” says Carmen.

Since trade links between India and Latin America is increasing, there are lots of exporters who want to learn Spanish to do business. Then there are professionals from the IT industry and university professors, too. Recently, one teacher won a scholarship to France and was keen to learn French.

José and Carmen offer basic and advanced courses. “To learn basic French or Spanish, it takes two to three months,” says José. “It all depends on the students and how keenly they do their homework.” An advanced course can last up to a year. And the rates are simple: Rs 100 per hour.

The couple also conducts classes for children in spoken English and yoga twice a week. “We do this for free, because this is our contribution to the local society,” says Carmen. Both husband and wife are amazed at the pressure that children are under these days. They know of children who get up at 6 a.m. to go for tuition.

“Now, during the summer holidays, there are 30 children who come to us for classes,” says Carmen. “But when the school opens in June, the numbers will go down drastically. The children tell me they would like to continue but their parents will not allow them. They want their children to go for tuitions. It is study, study, study all the time.”

When they are not teaching, the couple are busy tending to their large garden, which has mango and guava trees, as well as ducks, hens, and a couple of cats. At one side, there is a large man-made pond. They use it for water harvesting. “We don't get much hired help,” says José. “So, we have to do all the repair works in the house by ourselves. We also bake our own bread.”

In between they have unusual experiences. The other day, José was sitting on the verandah and reading the newspaper. Suddenly he heard a whining sound from the backyard. When he went to investigate, he saw that a rat snake, about ten feet in length, had a big frog in its mouth. Quickly, José picked up a bamboo stick and beat the snake. At once, the snake released the frog. Within moments, the snake went one way and the frog the other. “I felt happy that I could save the frog's life,” he says.

José and Carmen were teachers in the fishing village of Estepona in southern Spain. They came to India in 2003 when they got a job teaching Spanish at the Kodaikanal International School. They worked there for two years but found the cold weather unsuitable, especially for José, who fell sick often. So they moved to Pune where they worked at the Mahindra United World College for six years.

But in December 2004, during the Christmas vacation they went on a south India tour and came to Vypeen and fell in love with the place. And so, it was that in June, 2009, they settled down in La Arcadia. Asked to explain the meaning of the name, Carmen says, “Arcadia was a mythological valley in Greece. The inhabitants were shepherds who lived happily with nature.”

They also feel very happy at Ayampilly. “We have been welcomed with warmth and joy,” says José. “The people are very friendly and energetic too.”

This is in sharp contrast to the scene in Europe. When José returns to Spain once a year, he is amazed at how depressed the economy and the people are. “Too many years of wealthy living has made everybody lazy,” he says. “In Kerala, people are rushing about and doing so many things with passion and energy. It makes us feel young.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Dancing To Her Tune

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn 

Dr. M. Sajish talks about life with singer Sithara

Photo by TP Sooraj

By Shevlin Sebastian

M. Sajish first noticed Sithara Krishnakumar during the B Zone inter-college competitions of Calicut University at Koyilandy in 2004. Sithara, a student of Farook College, was taking part in the light music competition.

“She was wearing a green paavada and blouse and looked cute,” says Sajish, who was the chairman of the university union. “I liked her. Sithara sang Vidyadharan Master's ‘Alakananda Theeram’ very well.”

Sajish continued to come across Sithara during inter-college competitions. By this time, he had become a member of the university syndicate. So, he would also meet up with Sithara’s father, Dr. KM Krishnakumar, an assistant register at the university, who handled examinations. Since the Krishnakumars lived near the university, Sajish became friendly with them. “Sithara’s mother, Saly, an excellent cook, and a committed homemaker, impressed me a lot,” says Sajish.

When Sajish was doing his house surgeoncy in medicine he began thinking about marriage. “I was keen to select a girl on my own,” he says. “I did not want to look at caste, creed, religion or financial background. Since I had an interest in the arts, especially in music, I wanted to marry a girl who had a similar inclination. And the one person who fulfilled this criterion was Sithara.”

Sajish gave a marriage proposal to Krishnakumar and Saly and they accepted, as did his own parents. The marriage took place on August 31, 2008, at a hall in Kozhikode. “There was only an exchange of garlands, and a veena concert by the great artist, Ananthapadmanabham Sir,” says Sajish.  

He also gave Sithara a nice wedding gift. They went on a one-week trip to Singapore where they stayed, with Sajish’s friend, Satyen and his family. “There were many beautiful moments, but the one we enjoyed the most was a night safari at the Singapore Zoo,” says Sajish.

Asked about his wife’s qualities, Sajish says, “When she sees people going through a hard time, she melts and really feels for them. She tries to help in whatever way she can.”

However, this can be a negative also. “Sometimes, people have tried to take advantage of her goodness, but being more practical than her, I managed to intervene and save her from tricky situations.”  

But Sithara has an unusual trait. If somebody says something negative about her, she reacts very aggressively. “She cannot tolerate a character assassination,” says Sajish.

Again, in a surprising paradox, if somebody criticises her songs, Sithara has no problems. “She is willing to correct herself,” says Sajish. “That’s because Sithara is intensely dedicated to her singing.  She trains for hours at a stretch. Since she has taken part in competitions from an early age she has learnt to practise a lot. When she is concentrating on her music she forgets the outer world and is completely focused.”

Interestingly, over five years of their marriage, both have corrected each other. “Now I have become more sensitive to people's feelings, while she has become a little tougher inside and has learnt to say no, if she does not want to do something,” says Sajish.

Like any couple, they have their ups and downs. But their happiest moment occurred when Sithara did a pregnancy test and tested positive. “Sithara is going to give birth next month and both of us are thrilled about it,” says Sajish, a clinical cardiologist at Little Flower Hospital, Angamaly.

Sajish is equally thrilled that Sithara has made a name in playback singing. “Unlike most husbands, I don't suffer from an inferiority complex,” he says. “Instead, I admire and respect her talent. I want to help Sithara develop it as much as possible.”

Asked for tips on having a successful marriage, Sajish says, “All spouses have good and bad qualities. We have to accept both. A husband and wife should be frank and open with each other. You should discuss your problems openly and not keep it within yourself. Lastly, it is very important to have mutual understanding and respect.”

About Sithara

Sithara has won several musical talent shows, like Asianet Saptha Swarangal, Kairali TV Gandharva Sangeetham (Seniors) and Jeevan TV Voice 2004, apart from Jeevan TV's 2 Crore Apple Megastars in 2008. She has worked with noted composers like Ouseppachan, M. Jayachandran and Berny Ignatius. So far she has sung 65 songs. Sithara won the Kerala State Award for Playback Singing (2012) for her song, 'Enundodi Ambili Chantham' in the film, 'Celluloid'. She is also a noted ghazal singer and has performed in India and abroad. 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

A 21st century Thief

Kollam Ajith, who has acted in more than 500 films, makes his debut as a director, with 'Calling Bell', a story about a crook

By Shevlin Sebastian

In the first scene of 'Calling Bell, a thief, Qasim Bhai, played by Kollam Ajith, breaks open a locker of a private bank, takes the money and flees. But alarms are triggered and the police are able to track him down through the cyber cell. They give chase.

Qasim runs into a building, in which there are several apartments. He checks door after door, but they are all locked. Finally, one is open and he enters and shuts the door. There seems to be nobody inside, but there is a sound of water falling in the bathroom. Qasim tiptoes in and sees that the tap is, indeed, open, but the bathroom is empty. Suddenly, the action stops and there is a message on the screen: 'Some people are dying because of a lack of one drop of water. Water is precious. Do not waste it.'

“Throughout the film, I have placed similar messages,” says director Ajith. The subjects include the wastage of electricity, the dangers of alcohol and smoking, and the evils of dowry and casteism. “This is the first time in a mainstream film that such a method has been used,” says Ajith. “Of course, it is a risky move. There is always the danger of the audience rejecting it.”

Asked why the film is called 'Calling Bell', Ajith says, “When Qasim enters any place, the thing which alerts him is the calling bell. He is very afraid of it. It means that there is danger. In one scene, he is inside a house, which has a shrill calling bell. Somebody keeps on ringing it. Thinking that it is the police, he opens the door, holding a pistol, and is ready to use it, but sees that it is a child who had come to give birthday sweets.”

Ajith is a veteran of the Malayalam film industry, having acted, mostly as a villain, in more than 500 films. But all along he nourished a dream to be a director. So, one day, he got the idea of a do-gooder thief who steals from banks, and helps the poor. The script took six months to write. But when he found it difficult to get a producer, he decided to make the film himself, with the help of a friend, Rinoi Rajan, under the banner of Rans Entertainers.

“The problem with Malayalam films these days is that they are blindly following the glitz and glamour of Tamil and Telugu films,” he says. “A huge amount of money is spent to make grandiose sets. Despite this, most films flop.”

Ajith decided to make his debut work, in the style of his guru, the late Padmarajan, and current directors, Satyan Anthikad and Kamal. “They make simple films, and yet there is a moving message,” he says. “My film aims to be in the same mould.”

Ajith has been deeply influenced by Padmarajan. It was when he saw one of the director's films in 1981 that he decided to join the industry. He went and met Padmarajan, who hired him as an assistant. “But after a while, Padmarajan told me that I should try my luck as an actor because I had expressive eyes,” says Ajith. 

To encourage him, Padmarajan also gave Ajith a role in his film, 'Paranu, Paranu, Paranu'. “That is how my career began,” says Ajith. “But today, I want to take a new step by becoming a director.” 

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

Man For The Masses

Swami Agnivesh has spent the past 30 years fighting for the landless, bonded labourers, poor farmers and against female foeticide, among many other campaigns

By Shevlin Sebastian 

At the International Interfaith Dialogue India office in Kochi, there is a sense of expectation. They are all waiting for one of India’s well-known social activists, Swami Agnivesh. And when Agnivesh comes in, he is wearing a striking saffron kurtha and dhoti, along with a turban. His smile is shy, but friendly. The swami looks keen to make friends.

Agnivesh had come on a visit to Kerala to talk about alcoholism. “It is a major problem, not only in Kerala, but all over India,” he says. “The central government is promoting alcohol because of the massive revenue it can earn. But in a survey conducted nationwide, it has been found that while the income from alcohol is 85 paise while the expenditure on alcohol-related problems, like accidents or diseases is Rs. 1.25. So, promoting alcohol is counter-productive.”

Not surprisingly, at the Interfaith office, Agnivesh spoke about communal harmony. “In Kerala, Hindus and Muslims are living in harmony, along with the Catholics and the Protestants,” he says. In Belfast, Ireland, there is a wall which cuts through the city. One side is Catholic and the other side is Protestant. 

“It is called a peace wall,” says Agnivesh. “I told the people there, ‘How can you call it a peace wall?’ The cemeteries are divided. We can take pride in the fact that India has been the home of all the world religions. And, because of this, the people have become richer spiritually.”

Agnivesh has been in the public spotlight for more than 30 years. Born as Shyam Vepa Rao in Srikakulam in Andhra Pradesh, his father died when he was only four. Thereafter, the family went to stay with his maternal grandfather who was a diwan in the princely state of Sakti in Chhattisgarh. 

After his plus two exams in Sakti, Agnivesh decided to go to Kolkata to do his graduate studies. It was while in Kolkata that Swamiji came across the teachings of Dayanand Saraswati of the Arya Samaj.

“His teachings shook me to the core,” he says. “The basic teachings go back to the Vedas and the Upanishads. It is about imbibing the universal spiritual values. It is the acceptance of all human beings. God is omnipotent, omnipresent and omniscient. He is present in every particle in the Universe.”

Agnivesh, a Brahmin, gave up idol worship, practising the caste system, treating people in an unequal manner and looking warily at other religions.

After studying and working in Kolkata for a few years, Agnivesh went to an Arya Samaj gurukal in Jajjhar in Rohtak district in Haryana. There, he shaved his head, wore two pieces of unstitched cloth, and became a lifelong celibate. “I selected the name, Agnivesh, which means an embodiment of fire,” he says. Thereafter, for two years, he travelled through all the villages in Haryana, and got a clear understanding of how the poor were exploited.

Over the course of the next few years, Agnivesh launched the first-ever farmer's movement called Kisan Andolan. He also started an anti-liquor movement, as well as a campaign for landless labourers, and female foeticide and, later, took part in anti-corruption movements.

But Agnivesh's biggest achievement was when he took up the cause of the bonded labourers. “It was a big shock for me when I saw them for the first time in Haryana,” he says. “They were not in chains, but these migrant labourers stayed in shanties and worked round the clock. Anybody who tried to escape would be killed by guards. When I saw this, I decided to do something for their liberation.”

In 1979, he set up the Bandhua Mukti Morcha (Bonded Labourer Liberation Front). And till today he continues to work for them, but the situation has not improved much. 

“Today, around 45 crore people can be classified as bonded labourers,” says Agnivesh. This definition is based on the landmark Supreme Court judgement of December 16, 1983, by Justice P.N. Bhagawati, who described bonded labour in a precise manner: ‘Whoever does not get the minimum wages, as set by the government, is a bonded labourer’.

Meanwhile, as the fight for the powerless continued, Agnivesh's work was recognised internationally. He won the Anti-Slavery international award in London, the Freedom and Human Rights award in Berne, Switzerland, and, along with the late social activist, Asghar Ali Engineer, Agnivesh won the Right Livelihood Award from Sweden, in 2004, which is regarded as the Alternative Nobel Prize.

When asked about the state of the country, he says, “It is not in good shape. Corruption aside, casteism is still going strong. There is a lack of gender equality. Alcoholism is rampant. There is too much of aggression and violence in society, apart from intense competition and the consequent lack of co-operation between people. The future looks troubled.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Her Days and Nights

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Seema talks about life with veteran director I. V. Sasi

Photo by Satish Babu

By Shevlin Sebastian

One day, in 1977, Seema went to the Vijaya Gardens in Chennai to oversee the shooting of a dance sequence. Seema [original name: Shanthi] and a dancer Manisha had to wait a long time, since shooting had not begun. So they decided to have their tiffin. Suddenly, both of them heard somebody snapping his fingers.

When Seema turned to identify the sound she realised it was the director of the film, IV Sasi. Manisha said, “Why is the director calling us by snapping his fingers? Why can't he use our names?”

Seema remained silent. Then as she was going towards the dustbin to throw away a plastic packet, Sasi said, “Hey, come here.”

Seema said, “Santhi is my name. I am not a dog that you call me by snapping your fingers.”

“You are a chatterbox,” said Sasi. “There is a dance in my film, ‘Ee Manohara Theeram’. Will you do it?”

Seema said, “I don't want to do a song. I am already acting as a heroine in [Baby’s] ‘Nizhalae Nee Sakshi.’”

Sasi did not say anything. The next day, the dance master Vaikom Murthy went to Seema’s house and requested her to dance in Sasi’s film. “I decided to ask for a huge sum of money,” says Seema. “But Sasi agreed. I then asked for more. And again Sasi agreed. I said, ‘Give the money first’. And, amazingly, he sent it.”

So Seema had no option but to dance in the film. And it was after the shoot was completed that Sasi fell in love with her.

In the meantime, Sasi had begun work on ‘Avalude Ravukal’ (Her Nights). Not surprisingly, all the established heroines refused to act in it because the role was that of a prostitute. Sasi did make-up tests and took photo stills of Seema. He liked what he saw, and selected Seema for the role. Of course, it was a path-breaking movie and established Seema as a sexy siren in Malayalam films. By now, both of them were in a relationship.

A couple of years went by. In July, 1980, Seema’s mother, who bought her a diamond, showed it to an astrologer. He said, “It is good that you have bought the diamond now. By September, the girl should get married, otherwise she will have to wait for three years.”

When Seema heard this, she immediately went to Sasi’s house, in Chennai, and said, “If you want to get married to me, it should be before September, otherwise, forget it.” Sasi looked stunned. Then Seema left for the shoot of the film, 'Chaghara', near Thrissur.

A couple of days later, there was a phone call. Sasi told Seema the marriage had been fixed for August 28, at the Mangad temple, near Chennai.

And on schedule the marriage took place. But there was no chance for a honeymoon, as Seema had to return to the shoot. Today, 33 years later, Seema is happy. “I am grateful to Sasi Chettan for being with me for so many years and for never abandoning me,” she says. “My husband is a good person and a great director.”

In fact, cinema is Sasi’s first love or as Seema says, “It is his first wife. I have no problems with that. It is through films that we have earned our bread and butter. So I am happy he is so passionate about it.”

In fact, so intense is Sasi's commitment that when the film’s release day nears, Sasi goes through an enormous tension. And, irrespective of whether it is a hit or a flop, the director goes through severe loose motions for a week. “That will give you an indication of his commitment,” says Seema.

But both are like chalk and cheese. While Sasi never talks, Seema is loud and voluble. “I think in 33 years we must have spoken to each other for 15 days,” she says.

Nevertheless, this taciturn man has been good to his children. “For my daughter, Anu, he is her life,” says Seema. “He is more like a friend, than a father.” 

Anu is married to Milan Nair, who works for the Commonwealth Bank in Sydney, while she has a job as an academic coordinator in a college. Son Ani Sasi has been working as an assistant to director Priyadarshan for the past three years.

Today, Sasi, a veteran of over 150 films, is planning to make a new film, based on a script by Sanjay and Bobby. And Seema is there to offer moral support.

Asked for tips to have a good marriage, she says, “It is wrong to give advice. Because nobody, not even your own parents, can understand a marriage from outside. It is only the husband and wife who can make or break a marriage.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Tales from a Writing Machine

After years of struggle, Anees Salim, a Kochi-based advertising professional, has published two novels by top publishers. Two more are in the pipeline

Photo by Mithun Vinod 

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Anees Salim was 16 years old he did the unthinkable for a middle-class boy in India : he dropped out of college. “My parents were shattered, especially my Abu Dhabi-based father,” he says.

Thereafter, Anees shut himself in a room in his home at the beach town of Varkala in southern Kerala and began non-stop reading. He also wanted to be a writer. So he bought a 'Brother' typewriter and began writing. “Later, my relatives told me that the only sound that came out of my room was the tap-tap of the typewriter keys,” he says. “They wondered what I was typing all day.”

This period lasted for three years. Not surprisingly, his family thought that Anees had lost his mind. Then he decided to travel. “I thought that what was standing between me and good writing was a lack of experience,” he says. So, at 19, Anees embarked on an All-India tour which lasted for several months.

“When I returned, I started writing again and my family became very cautious with me,” says Anees, at his third-floor apartment in Kochi. “They were scared I would disappear again.”

Soon, Anees realised that he needed a job. “I joined advertising, because it is the only industry that will accept a college dropout,” he says. And it has worked out fine. Today Anees is the Kochi-based Creative Head of Draft FCB Ulka Advertising.

In his spare time and in the early mornings, Anees was busy writing novels. “My first readable book was 'Vicks Mango Tree',” he says. “The first draft was completed when I was 28, but I did not have the courage to send it out. I knew that a rejection letter was on the way. So I parked the book for some time in my drawer. Then, one day, I sent a query to an American agent and got a rejection letter.”

Anees wrote 'The Blind Lady's Descendants', which took two years to complete. He sent a query letter to 50 American and English agents and got rejections. Then the tenacious Anees wrote a third novel, 'Tales from the Vending Machine', in 2009. This time he decided to send it to an Indian agent and selected Kanishka Gupta. “I tried a trick,” says Anees. “I sent the query letter in the name of Hasina Mansoor, the 21-year-old Muslim heroine of my novel. She is a fan of Osama Bin Laden, hates Americans and Jews, and is a Muslim fundamentalist.”

Kanishka liked what he read and accepted the novel immediately.

“Anees is a literary ventriloquist,” says Kanishka. “He gets under the skin of his characters, which makes them very real. He also has a wry sense of humour and unusual settings. In fact, it is hard to believe that a man could capture the voice of a young Muslim girl so effortlessly.”

Meanwhile, the tireless Anees banged out his fourth novel, 'Vanity Bagh'. “It is about the Hindu-Muslim divide,” he says. “I have seen people supporting Pakistan during cricket matches. I believe that there is a small Pakistan in every big Indian city. Essentially, a minority of the minority may support Pakistan, while a minority of the majority thinks that all Muslims are refugees.”

Today, all four novels have been accepted by reputed publishers. The 'Vicks Mango Tree' and 'Tales from a Vending Machine' have been taken up by HarperCollins, the 'The Blind Lady's Descendants' by Tranquebar, while 'Vanity Bagh' is by Picador. 'Vicks Mango Tree' and 'Vanity Bagh' have been published, the latter, in the last week of April. In ‘Vanity Bagh’, the writing is simple, lucid, bright and imaginative. So, it is no surprise that the published books are selling steadily.

“More importantly, they have been well received by the media and discerning readers,” says Kanishka. 

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

Building Bridges of Friendship

The International Interfaith Dialogue India is propagating love and respect for all religions in society

Photo: Swami Shankaracharya Onkaranand Saraswathi at the Cheraman Mosque

By Shevlin Sebastian

When NR Pillai, a retired assistant general manager of the Reserve Bank of India, was accompanying His Holiness Swami Shankaracharya Onkaranand Saraswathi, the head of the Prayag Peeth, on a visit to the Lord Krishna temple in Guruvayur, he received a call on his mobile. Dr. Mohammed Syed, a trustee of the Cheraman Mosque, asked whether Swami Saraswathi would drop in at the mosque on the way back to Kochi. The Swamiji readily agreed.

And so, on a sunny afternoon, there were several people present, including the imam, VM Sulaiman Maulavi, to welcome the Swamiji when he arrived. “He was taken all over the mosque,” says Pillai. “Thankfully, there was one person present who could speak fluent Hindi and hence he was able to explain to Swamiji about the various aspects.” Thereafter, the Imam presented the Swamiji with an English version of the Quran.

“This is the first time I am visiting a mosque,” said the Swamiji. “I am honoured to know that it is the oldest one in India .” The mosque was established in 629 AD in Kodungaloor.

The Delhi-based Swami Saraswathi had come to Kochi to attend a seminar on 'Religion and Human Values', organised by the International Interfaith Dialogue India (IIDI). The organisation was set up in April 2010. “Unless there is peace among the followers of different religions, there cannot be peace in the world,” says P.K. Shamsuddin, a former judge of the Kerala High Court, and a patron of IIDI. “Unfortunately, in the name of religion, many wars have been fought and much blood has been shed throughout history. Hence, there is a need to educate people about the common values shared by all the religions. That is the main purpose of the IIDI.”

So the IIDI conducts seminars and workshops and tries to sensitise the people to accept and respect all religions. “We invite people of various religions to come and speak,” says Shamsuddin. 

For the last meet, speakers included Prasanna Venkatachariar Chaturvedi Swamy, the founder of the Sri Ramanuja Mission Trust, Tamil Nadu, Fr. Albert Nambiaparambil, the Secretary General of the World Fellowship of Inter-Religious Councils, and Maulawi Jamaludeen Mankada, the Imam of the Palayam mosque, Thiruvanantapuram.

“Holding a seminar makes a difference,” says Shamsuddin. “It builds bridges among the different religious groups. There is a lot of misunderstanding. People think that Islam propagates terror. On the other hand, Islam means peace. As a result, there is a lot of mistrust.”

Asked whether there is a rising mood of communalism in Indian society, Shamsuddin says, “I don't think so. Undoubtedly, there are extremists who are propagating division and are trying to mislead the people, but India 's soul is different. The country has always welcomed all types of people.”

In AD 52, when St. Thomas came to Kerala, he was received with open arms. As a result, many people embraced Christianity. Islam arrived through Malik Ibn Dinar, and a team of believers, who came from Saudi Arabia in the seventh century and set up the Cheraman Mosque. 

“The people of Kerala received them warmly and provided them with all facilities, to spread the message of Islam,” says Shamsuddin. “Throughout our history, people have always wanted peace, tolerance, and communal amity. That is our great heritage.”

KJ Yesudas, who is an Ambassador of Peace for the IIDI, since its inception, says, “Endeavors, like the IIDI, are the need of the hour. That is why I have given my full support to them.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)