Slithering Snakes!

COLUMN: LOCATION DIARY

Actor Kunjan talks about his first experience before the camera, as well as the film, 'Sambhavam'

Photo of Kunjan by Albin Mathew 

By Shevlin Sebastian

In October, 1967, actor Kunjan was leading a quiet life working in an office in Coimbatore. One day, he befriended a man named Shanmugham, who made documentaries, which were screened abroad.

Shanmughan asked him whether he would act in one of his documentaries. Kunjan was hesitant. He had no experience of acting. But Shanmugham said he would be paid Rs 250 for his efforts. “In those days, that was a lot of money,” says Kunjan, at his home in Kochi. “So I agreed.”

The next morning, a Plymouth car came to collect Kunjan from his house. From there, they travelled to Mettupalayam, 33 kms away. The shoot was supposed to take place next to a temple. Shanmugham was waiting patiently.

As soon as Kunjan arrived, he was asked to take off his shirt. Then his hands and legs were tied. Kunjan was made to lie on the ground. Suddenly, a few men brought a number of baskets next to him. When it was opened, Kunjan was shocked.

These contained snakes and they were placed all over his body. Soon, one python enveloped Kunjan so tightly, he was finding it difficult to breathe.

“I was in a state of shock,” says Kunjan. “It was like being in a bed of noodles. There was also a terrible smell.”

A fearful Kunjan told Shanmugham, “Sir, please free me. I don't want the money.” But Shanmugham ignored Kunjan and continued shooting.

When it was over, Kunjan had a splitting headache. After he got the money, he felt very hungry. So he went to a hotel at Coimbatore, and had a plate of chicken biriyani.

While he was doing so, he noticed an eruption on his skin, along the forearm. After a while, the same mark appeared on his other hand.

“I thought it had something to do with my encounter with the snakes,” says Kunjan.

Immediately he consulted with Prakash, a homeopathic doctor. “He told me it was chicken pox,” says Kunjan. “The stress, fear, tension, and body heat had made the pox erupt.”

In the end, Kunjan stayed in bed for 28 days. “Apart from the Rs 250 from Shanmugham, I had to borrow another Rs 250, from a friend, to pay for the treatment,” says Kunjan. “So, finally, I did not gain anything.”

Eventually, Kunjan entered Mollywood, and has acted in 650 films till now.

In 1981, during a break in the shooting of 'Sambhavam', which starred Madhu, Srividya, and Adoor Bhasi, Kunjan finished his dinner at the Hotel International, at Kochi, along with producer Ravi Menon.

When they came out, to go to the Bharat Tourist Hotel, where they were staying, they noticed that it was raining heavily. So, one of Ravi's friend, Sooraj (name changed) offered to take them. While Kunjan sat in front, Ravi was at the back.

On MG Road, near Maharaja's College, a lorry hit the car head-on. “The door was hanging from my arm,” says Kunjan. “There were cuts on my legs and arms. And I was bleeding from my face. Ravi's lip had split open. He had hit the seat in front.”

Kunjan managed to get out of the car. He saw an autorickshaw driver and asked him to take them to the nearest hospital.

But the driver said, “Please allow me to look at you for some time. This is the first time I am seeing a star.”

Says Kunjan, “In those days, people were crazy about actors. It is only now that because there is so much of shooting taking place in Kochi that people have got used to seeing the stars.”

The driver finally took the three of them to the Medical Trust hospital. At the intensive care unit, it was discovered that there were some glass pieces stuck to Kunjan's body. When it was being taken out by the nurse, Kunjan moaned in pain.

When the nurse saw that, she said, with a smile, “Acting in films and acting in the hospital, too.” 

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

Plant A Sapling, Grow A Tree

The Kochi-based 'Tree For Life' aims to bring in a culture of growing trees, in a bid to reduce environmental damage

Photo: (From left): Manju Mathew, Rose Paul, Bobby Antony and Sumi Thomas. Pic by Albin Mathew  

 

By Shevlin Sebastian

At the Ted Talks at Vancouver, in February, Bhutanese Prime Minister Tshering Tobgay said, “72 per cent of our country is under forest cover. And all that forest is pristine. That is why we are one of the few remaining global bio-diversity hotspots in the world. Out of 200 countries, we are the only one that is carbon-neutral. Through our Green Bhutan movement, we are planting trees throughout the country.”

 

In Kochi, two months later, restaurateur Manju Mathew, 40, saw the video on her Whatsapp. It created a jolt within her. Another trigger was an article in 'The New Indian Express' in late April. Reporters measured temperatures in areas where there are trees, as well as no-tree areas and published the results.

 

“The temperature difference between the two was as high as two degrees,” says Manju. “I started wondering, 'All of us are complaining about the heat, but what are we doing to reduce it? Then I realised that the easiest way is to plant trees, just like the Bhutanese Prime Minister said.”

 

The final trigger was a news item which showed the number of trees per person globally. While Canada led the way, with 8953 trees per person, the US has 716, China, 102, and India a measly 28. “On the world stage, we were nowhere,” says Manju. “That proved to be the tipping point.”

 

And thus was born the group, 'Tree For Life'. The core group, apart from Manju, consists of Sumi Thomas, Rose Paul and Bobby Antony.

 

“Altogether, there are about 45 women, consisting of homemakers, businesswomen, teachers, architects and interior designers,” says Manju. “It is a vibrant and multi-faceted group.”

 

But the group wanted to do things differently. “Many people get into a tree-planting exercise, for one day, like on World Environment day, and then forget about it,” says Sumi. “But we decided that we would plant a limited number of saplings, but ensure that it was looked after, so that it became a tree. Nurturing is a must.”

 

So they have got in touch with schools, colleges, and community groups.

One such group is the Giri Nagar Ladies Club. The Tree for Life held a meeting with the club members. In the end, the latter said they were interested. “About 45 saplings have been planted in various backyards,” says Rose.

 

As for the saplings, they have been sourced from the State Social Forestry department. “They gave us a list of ten saplings that can be used,” says Rose. These included guava, sapota and neem trees.

 

And when Tree for Life spread the word, through social media and mobile calls, the members got a shock. “In less than two days, there were 300 orders,” says Manju. “I believe this idea has struck a chord among people. Everyone is deeply worried about environmental destruction.” A couple of banks, as well as the Women's Rotary Club Milan have stepped forward to provide sponsorship.

 

Meanwhile, the Tree for Life will take the assistance of children to plant the saplings. “We want the citizens of tomorrow to know the importance of trees, and understand the need to nurture the environment,” says Manju.

 

In the second phase, the group has plans to develop urban forests. “If we are given a space, just large enough to park six cars, we will be able to grow several plants andtrees,” says Manju. “That will help bring down the temperature. Birds will get attracted. These areas will serve as hubs where clean air and oxygen are produced. That is the beauty of trees.”

 

For Manju, and for most members of the group, the tree is a symbol of womanhood. “A tree is like a mother,” says Sumi. “It houses birds and provides shade. The tree is strong, but when there are strong winds or thunderstorms, it will bend and become flexible. Just like a woman.”

 

And Manju is optimistic that once the message reaches far and wide, this could become a national movement. “I am hoping we will make a difference in the entire country,” she says. 

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

Painted On Stone

Sreeja Pillai's exhibition has featured different artistic styles, but all have been done on small stones

Photos: Sreeja Pillai by Mithun Vinod; stone paintings 

By Shevlin Sebastian

Artist Sreeja Pillai was doing some research for a book on the history of art when she realised that, in ancient times, before the advent of canvas, people did paintings on stone.

“They would capture their day-to-day life on rocks, and on the walls of caves,” she says. “Sometimes, they would use the blood of animals or use different types of mud. The origin of painting is stone. So I decided I would go back to the beginning.”

So Sreeja began collecting stones from the bottom of lakes, ponds and rivers near her home in Thrissur. “It was not easy,” she says. “I also arranged for stones to be sent to me from Kozhikode, as well as Andhra Pradesh and Pondicherry."

The stones varied in size, from 3 1/2 inches to 9” long. They were in different shapes: round, oblong, egg-shaped, and square. But when Sreeja started work, she realised that it would take a long time. “That's because I was doing miniature paintings,” she says.

In her daily life, Sreeja is a drawing teacher at the Harisree Vidyanidhi school. So, she usually started work, on her paintings, only at 9 p.m., after her eleven-year-old son had gone to sleep. And she worked late into the night.

But Sreeja has been following a specific plan. She would take one style each from the twenty-plus states in India. “In Kerala, the most traditional art form has been the mural painting,” she says. “So I have done works in that style.” She has also done Santhal, Assamese, Bhil, Deccani, Kalamkari, Worli Rajasthani, and Gond styles.

“The Gond paintings of Madhya Pradesh usually have animals as their subjects,” says Sreeja.

After she completed 130 paintings, she held an exhibition recently at the Kerala Lalitkala Akademi in Thrissur called 'Luminous-4'. 

“The presentation is very important,” says Sreeja. So, the stones have been placed against blue, green, red, saffron and pink cloth on a specially-designed wooden stand. Before each stone is the name of the painting and the state from which it has originated. One section was focused on the faces of members belonging to various tribes. “It was only after doing the paintings that I realised the immensely rich heritage of India,” she says.

Meanwhile, those who saw the exhibition liked it. Says Kochi-based artist PR Unnikrishnan: “Sreeja's work is different, as compared to other artists. She is carrying on a 6000-year-old tradition of stone art. Sreeja has done a lot of research and that is reflected in her works. It is a commendable effort.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram) 

'Java is simple, powerful and robust'

COLUMN: LOCATION DIARY

Actor Vinay Forrt talks about his experiences in the films, 'Premam' and 'Shutter'

Photos: Vinay Forrt; as teacher Vimal in Premam

By Shevlin Sebastian

At the location shoot, at UC College, Aluva, for the film, Premam, in January, 2015, director Alphonse Puthren gave a piece of paper to actor Soubin Shahir, on which was written a definition of the Java software. He then asked Soubin to memorise it so that he could teach a class the next day.

However, Soubin pointed at actor Vinay Forrt and told Alphonse, “When people look at Vinay, they will feel that he is a bit educated. On the other hand, I don’t look like a teacher at all. So I will become the PT instructor, while Vinay can play my role.”

And that was how Vinay played Vimal Sir. But when Vinay saw the dialogue, he told Alphonse that the definition of Java was not interesting. Agreeing with the actor,  Alphonse allowed Vinay to improvise. When the shoot began, Vinay opened a textbook and said, “Java is simple. It is powerful. It can be robust, too.”

A student suddenly said, “Sir, is it like the Robusta (banana)?” Immediately, all the  students started laughing. However, Vinay felt puzzled. Alphonse was supposed to call ‘Cut’, a minute into the shoot, so that George (played by Nivin Pauly) and his friends could barge into the class. “But Alphonse did not say anything,” says Vinay. “In the end, the entire sequence appeared on screen and became one of the most popular scenes.”

So, popular did it become, that when people met Vinay, they would call him Java. “I had done 25 films before Premam,” says Vinay. “But it is this one sequence that established my name. Before that, I played serious and intense roles, and people stayed away when I moved around in public. But after Premam, people found it easy to approach me.”

Again, in Premam, Vinay had a scene where he sang a Tamil song, ‘Ennavale Adii Ennavale’, during the college festival. At the conclusion, he clutched the mike, got an electric shock, and fell to the ground. However, when the shoot was going on, Naresh (name changed), the man who supplied the mike, ran to the stage and shouted, “There is nothing wrong with my mike. It worked perfectly well till yesterday. It is not my fault.”

It took a while to calm Naresh down and tell him that this was part of the script, and Vinay had not suffered an electric shock. Meanwhile, the crew had a big laugh.

Vinay had a completely difference experience during the shoot for Shutter (2012). He played an auto-rickshaw driver, Nanmayil Suran, who locked his friend, businessman Rashid (played by Lal), and a prostitute inside a room, which had a shutter, so that they could experience bliss. Unfortunately, soon after, Nanmayil is picked up by the police and locked up. As a result, he could not open the shutter. When he was released, the next afternoon, he looked disturbed. To show that mood, a scene was set up on a railway bridge, up a steep stone embankment, with water on both sides, in Kozhikode.    

“A camera was tied to my body, facing my face,” says Vinay. A red towel was placed around his shoulders. The only other person present was Hari Nair, the director of photography. Vinay started walking beside the track. A train came from behind. It went past with such speed that the towel rose up and enveloped Vinay’s face.

“This turned out to be one of the best scenes in the film,” says Vinay. “People were sitting on the edge of their seats. They were wondering what was going to happen to me. Was I going to commit suicide? When we were shooting the scene, we had no idea of how it would turn out. But now I know that, sometimes, the best scenes happen when we least expect it.”

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

The Kingdom Of Heaven

Director Vineeth Sreenivasan talks about his super-duper hit, 'Jacobinte Swargarajyam'

Photo: Vineeth Sreenivasan (right) with cinematographer Jomon T John 

By Shevlin Sebastian

In December 2013, scriptwriter-director Vineeth Sreenivasan, 30, received a WhatsApp photo from his friend Gregory Jacob. It was an image of a family get-together and the caption read: ‘Finally’.

The Jacob Zachariah family—husband, wife, three boys and a girl—lived in Dubai. A financial swindle by a business partner made Zachariah lose millions and the family went into a crisis. He went to Liberia to explore work opportunities, while his eldest son, Gregory, along with his mother, tried to clear the debts by running businesses of his own. It took five years for the family to re-unite in Kerala.

“When I looked at the photo I realised how much Gregory had wanted this meeting,” says the director, who knew the back-story. “Because of our busy lives,  many of us may not find the time to call or go home. This forgetfulness happens unknowingly. I felt that it would make a good film.”

Released last month, Jacobinte Swargarajyam has become a superhit, with a box office collection of `22 crore and rising. It stars Nivin Pauly, Renji Panicker, Lakshmy Ramakrishnan, Sai Kumar and Sreenath Bhasi. It is a film that a smiling 12 year-old Subin liked, just outside the PVR Cinemas, at the Lulu Mall, Kochi, as well as his 90-year-old grandfather.

Asked how he could make a film that appealed to youngsters and the elderly alike, Vineeth says, “Each character has a unique behaviour. Take Abin Jacob (Bhasi). He is a rebellious 19-year-old, who likes to have a drink and move around with friends. Many teenagers, who saw the film, told me they could relate to Abin.”

Nevertheless, during the shooting in Dubai, Sharjah and Kerala, Vineeth had doubts. “When I am making a film, there is always a battle within myself,” he says. “One part of me says, ‘This is a good film and I have to do it’. But another part says, ‘This may not be entertaining, and not the type of film that people will expect from me’. These doubts persist till the end of the first show when I am able to get the audience reaction.”

So far, the audience response has been mostly positive. His films like Malarvadi Arts Club and Thattathin Marayathu have done well. He also wrote the script for the hit, Oru Vadakkan Selfie.

Meanwhile, during the shoot of Jacobinte Swargarajyam, there were moments of serendipity too. There is a scene where the mother tells Gregory that she had a dream where angels rested on his shoulders.  “Both Jomon (T John, cinematographer) and I felt there has to be a magic in the scene, but we not could not find a solution,” says Vineeth.

As they were conversing on the 15th floor of a building in Sharjah, the sun began setting. “Through a gap between two buildings, the sunlight lit up our faces,” he says. “We instantly realised how the scene had to be shot: Sherly facing the camera and Gregory behind her, with the sunlight at the back. And we played ‘Latika’s Theme’ from Slumdog Millionaire, in the background.”

But, rather than Latika, it is Vineeth’s theme, in the film, that is a talking point among the cinema-goers of Kerala. 

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

Wilting Grass, Leaves and Trees

Paris Mohankumar's exhibition, 'Reverberations', focuses on the widespread environmental degradation in the world

Photo by K. Shijith

By Shevlin Sebastian

Sometime ago, artist Paris Mohankumar entered a house in a tribal area at Wayanad in north Kerala. There, on a bed, he saw a girl with a broken leg. The bone, in fact, was sticking out. When asked why she had not been taken to hospital, he was told that the family had no money. A shocked Mohankumar stepped out of the house.

Later, when he into another house, he saw a wooden piece that was part of an old door. It had scratches, long embedded lines and a couple of holes. He took it home, and painted the figure of a woman on it, in a pastel shade, with the face turned sideways, and the hair held up in a bob. It was titled 'Rebirth'.

This piece is on display at the 'Reverberations – The Unheard Whispers' exhibition, by Mohankumar, at the David Hall gallery, Fort Kochi.

“I want to sell 'Rebirth' and use the money to provide treatment for the girl,” says Mohankumar, 70, who looks like a prophet, with his long and flowing white hair, as well as beard. “Then she will experience a re-birth.”

There are a total of 100 paintings, a mix of acrylic, oils, and watercolours. It comprises his work of the past ten years.

What appears in almost all the paintings are two themes: the presence of women, along with environmental degradation. In the painting, 'Gingee Fort', he has placed a single woman against the backdrop of the Parthenon in Greece, Gingee Fort in Tamil Nadu, the Sacred Heart Basilica in Paris and the Colosseum in Rome. But in front is a large tree, with several bare branches, that goes right across the canvas.

In many other paintings, he has shown wilting grass, leaves and trees. “In Wayanad, where I stay, factories are coming up and spoiling the landscape,” he says. “Most of the politicians are only interesting in making profits.”

Another endangered area is the Niligiri Biosphere Reserve. “I am told that more than 5000 acres are up for sale,” he says. “I am trying to highlight all this through my work.”

As for the presence of women in all the works, Mohankumar says, simply, “I worship them.” And there is a reason for it. His father, Kunjiraman, a Communist, was killed at the French enclave of Mahe in Kerala, when Mohankumar was only two years old. The artist was brought up by his mother and grandmother. “My mother avoided marriage so that she could bring me up, even though she was beautiful and had many suitors,” he says.

The gifted Mohankumar made a mark when he was a teenager through his paintings and sculptures. When a well-known monk, Swami Dayananda Saraswati asked him to do a scultpture of a Hindu god, Mohankumar was flummoxed. Because of his father's Communist leanings, there was no religion in the house. So, he consulted an encylopaedia which belonged to his father and did a bust of Socrates.

But when he displayed it to the monk, his followers were flummoxed.

“Everybody asked the guru, 'Who is this?',” says Mohankumar. “Swamiji replied that this is a 'God of Gods'.”

The impressed Saraswati invited Mohankumar to spend time at his ashram, which was just eight kilometres from his house at Mahe. Mohankumar went there and learnt meditation and yoga. Thereafter, he spent five years as a member of the Aghoris cult at Rishikesh. But all along, he was obsessed with art. And with the Swamiji's help, he went to Paris in 1974, and launched a successful career as an artist.

“My work has been shown in 40 countries,” says Mohankumar, who spent two decades in Europe. His high point was when he was honoured by UNESCO in 1988 as one of the 40 greatest artists in the world. Today, he is on a mission to encourage organic farming among the tribals in Wayanad.

“Mankind should realise it cannot survive, unless we nurture the environment,” says Mohankumar. 

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

The Horse That Would Not Move Forward

COLUMN: LOCATION DIARY

Actor Shine Tom Chacko talks about his experiences in the films, ‘Itihasa’, 'Annayum Rasoolum', and ‘Chapters’

By Shevlin Sebastian

In the film, 'Itihasa' (2014), actor Shine Tom Chacko, who plays pickpocket Alvy, robs a person, takes the money, and is walking away. Suddenly, the police come up behind him and say, “Hey Alvy.” Immediately Alvy starts running towards a beach. In the distance, he can see a brown-black horse. He runs towards it, climbs up, and kicks the sides, but the horse does not move.

“No matter how much I tried, the horse would not move,” says Shine. “So, the shooting came to a stop.”

Vishnu, the trainer, said that the horse, Lancer, should have a confidence that a person can ride him. “You need to have a proper balance while sitting on a horse,” said Vishnu. “Like the way you keep a balance when you ride a bike.”

So, Vishnu told Shine to bond with the horse. During breaks in the shoot, Shine fed Lancer some food. He also took the horse to the water's edge so that it could feel cool. “A horse communicates with humans through his eyes,” says Shine. “So, I looked at the horse, and said, silently, 'This is a good role for me. Please help me. We need to shoot this scene.'”

At the end of the day, Shine decided to make another attempt. This time, when he sat on the saddle, he kicked hard with both his legs. The horse slowly started moving forward. “That was when I realised that I had been kicking the wrong way earlier,” says Shine. Then Shine kicked again and it began to pick up speed. “But when I kicked a third time, Lancer began to go fast,” says Shine. “I began to feel confident. I realised that the kings of the past felt this same confidence when they rode a horse.”

In the end, director Binu S got a good shot.

Good shots were what cinematographer Rajeev Ravi thought he would get when he selected Shine to play the ruffian Abu in his debut directorial film, 'Annayum Rasoolum' (2013). “I had thick long hair,” says Shine. So the shoot was proceeding smoothly at Kochi. But Shine was finding it difficult to handle this mass of hair, because of the heat.

So, one evening, after the day's shoot was over, he entered an air-conditioned shop and told the barber to trim the hair at the edges. The barber agreed as he gave Shine a head massage. It was so good, that Shine went off the sleep. After a while, when he awoke the actor got a shock. “He had cut all my hair and made it short,” says Shine. “I cannot blame him since he did not know that I was acting in a film, and that it would affect the continuity of the sequences.”

Rajeev got a shock to see Shine the next day. But the director solved the problem by making Shine tie a handkerchief over his head. “Sometimes, gangsters have worn this, as a style statement,” says Shine. “Then, in a couple of scenes, he made me wear a cap. Sometimes, he placed my head at the edge of the frame, so there was no need to show my hair.”

But there was further tension. During one sequence, where Shine is running with a group of ruffians, near a church at Vypeen, he hit his hand on the church wall and broke two of his fingers. Following treatment, his hand was placed in a cast. Thereafter, whenever Shine was in front of the camera, Rajeev instructed him to put his fractured hand behind him, and vice versa when the camera was trained on his back.

From the shoot of 'Annayum Rasoolum', Shine went to the location of ‘Chapters’ at Vagamon where he was playing a ruffian by the name of Choonda. “Director Sunil Ibrahim solved the problem by making another character say that Choonda broke his hand in the bathroom,” says Shine. “Such are the adjustments that take place when shooting goes on.” 

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

The Third Gender Express Themselves

Harikrishnan G has put the spotlight on transgenders in his exhibition, ‘Trans – A Transition for life’

Photos: Hariskrishnan G; Sheetal. Pics by Ratheesh Sundaram

By Shevlin Sebastian

Three years ago, magazine photographer Harikrishnan G had gone to Chennai to take photos of a wheelchair-bound doctor by the name of Aishwarya Rao who had done a lot of work to rescue sex workers. One day, Aishwarya took Harikrishnan to a locality where sex workers and transgenders lived. “That was the first time I had been to a place like that,” he says. “The memory stayed with me.”

Recently, while Harikrishnan was recuperating at home, following a surgery, the images of the transgender colony came up in his mind. That was when he got the idea to do an exhibition on them.

Through his media contacts, he got in touch with Sheetal in Thrissur. And after long discussions on the phone and a hour-long meeting, Sheetal and her friends Deepthi and Sonu agreed to do a photo shoot.

The fruit of that work can be seen in the exhibition, ‘Trans – A Transition for life’ at the Durbar Hall, Kochi. Eight photos, 6' x 4' each, have been put up. Printed on archive paper, each costs Rs 75,000. “It is a labour of love,” he says. “I have spent my own money.”

The photos are striking. In one Sheetal (a man who has become a woman) stands, her face turned sideways to the camera, and eyes closed, because coloured powder has been thrown at her. “This is the powder that is used during the Holi festival,” says Harikrishnan. “And it signifies a celebration of transgenders.”

In the next photo, Sheetal is wearing a white frock, with long black hair cascading towards her shoulders, kaajal-rimmed eyes and red lipstick. She is standing behind an open bird cage while paper birds hang in thin strings from the ceiling. Many birds are outside the cage. Is freedom coming for transgenders is the silent question.

The third photo is stunning. This is Deepthi who has posed half-nude, her breasts covered by her two hands. There is a tattoo of a heart being pierced by an arrow over her left breast, a shining gold necklace around her neck and plastic flowers in her hair. But the striking feature is her eyes: it has a mix of defiance and excitement in them. This is Deepthi's first opportunity to express herself as a transgender in a society that has all but made them invisible.

In another heart-warming picture, a male, Sonu, and Deepthi, sit next to each other and hold hands.

Harikrishnan has also taken a photo of Sonu, as a nude man, but, at his hips, he has placed a triangular mirror. When you stand in front of the photo, you end up seeing your own face. “What I wanted to tell the visitors was that we have both male and feminine traits within us,” he says. “So we should learn to accept those who are different from the normal.”

Unfortunately, in Kerala society, there has been a marked lack of acceptance. As a result, transgenders have a difficult time. “They find it hard to rent a house or get a job,” says Harikrishnan. “They get no support from their families. When they walk on the streets, people make pass cruel comments. Because of the difficulties of living here, many have left the state.”

Harikrishnan is hoping that his exhibition will cause a change in the mind-set. “I want to make people aware that transgenders are normal people, just like you and me,” he says. 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram) 

Grace And Naturalness

Dr. Madhavi Namboodiri talks about the charms of Kuchipudi, while on a recent visit to Kochi

Photos by Ratheesh Sundaram

By Shevlin Sebastian

“An Indian dance form has an emotional catharsis, as compared to western art,” says Kuchipudi dancer Dr. Madhavi Namboodiri. “You can purge your emotions. In real life, I cannot go out on the streets and show love, anger, hate or irritation. Society has taught us to suppress these emotions. About 70 per cent of our ailments occur because of the bottling up of our feelings.”

But dance can counter that. In fact, it has healing attributes. “I have noticed that women look and feel younger once they start practising dance,” says Madhavi. “The body language becomes confident. It influences the way you carry yourself. Your sensuality come to the surface. And there is an upsurge of energy.”

As for Madhavi, to rejuvenate herself, every summer, she, along with her daughters, Chinmayee, 13, and Sreekaree, six-and-a-half, come to Tripunithara, Kochi, to spend a few weeks with her in-laws.

An Andhra Brahmin, and the daughter of famed Telugu actor Chandra Mohan, Madhavi fell in love with a Malayali, Dr. Nambi Namboodiri, when they were classmates at the Venkataramana Ayurveda College at Chennai. They got married in 2000. Both post-graduates, Dr. Nambi and Dr. Madhavi are directors of the Nagarjuna Ayurveda Centre, Kalady.

Madhavi is also a professor at the Sri Sairam Ayurveda Medical College in Tambaram. “But dance is my first love,” says Madhavi. “You might be riding high in your profession, but in your heart, you will miss your art.”

So, after an eight-year hiatus, Madhavi returned to dance under the able guidance of her Guru, Sathyapriya Ramana, one of the foremost pupils of Padmabhushan Sri Vempati Chinna Sathyam. “Those years away honed my appetite,” she says. “You have to find out what your dreams and passions are, and what occupies your mind and heart.”

Today, she has performed in dance festivals in Chidambaram, Thanjavur, Mamallapuram, Khajuraho, and almost all the Sabhas of Chennai. In end April, she gave a performance at Kochi, during a performance organised by the Sathyanjali Academy of Kuchipudi dance, and was also conferred the 'Natya Pragnya' award. She has also won the Kala Ratna, Rose of Ridwan and Kalamrithavarshini awards from the Baha'i, as well as the Best Performer of theYear, (2014) award conferred by the Parthasarathy Swamy Sabha. 

Asked the charms of Kuchipudi, Madhavi says, “There is a lot of grace and naturalness in the facial expressions. In Kuchipudi, we use a lot of lokadharmi (life-oriented gestures) which are used by ordinary people. So, you can connect easily with the audience.”

And she is doing her bit to spread the reach of Kuchipudi. In July, 2010, she set up the Madhura Kala Niketan. There are around 45 students, of which, there are a few males. “Kuchipudi is not part of the devadasi culture,” says Madhavi, a graded artiste of Doordarshan. “In fact, it is a male Brahmin dance. Only four families were taught by [founder] Siddhendra Yogi, five hundred years ago, when he converted a street story-telling art into a classical form and named it after his village of Kuchelapuram. But women became a part of it in the past 50 years.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram) 

A Look At Bullying And Class Hypocrisy

Author Ratna Vira returns with her second novel, 'It's not about you', after the first, 'Daughter By Court Order', became a national best-seller

 

By Shevlin Sebastian

 

A couple of years ago, Ratna Vira came across a newspaper article about a young American who tried to help a black who was being bullied. Subsequently, the former received a beating and ended up in a coma. “Soon after that I met the head of an Indian educational institution who told me about the rampant bullying in his school,” says Ratna.”

 

This proved to be the inspiration for Ratna's second novel, 'It's not about you', which is being released in end-May. The novel starts with a brutal beating of single mother Samaira's 16-year-old son Aksh in school and he has to be hospitalised. It prompts Samaira to investigate, and, despite a lack of co-operation from the school, she discovers that bullying does exist, teenagers have a secret life, and, most of the time parents do not know their children at all.

 

“Samaira gets some inkling about her son's inner life when she comes across Aksh's posts on social media, as well as his Instagram account,” saysRatna.

 

Even as she agonises over the slow recovery of her son, tuition teacher Mrs. Khanna attacks Samaira. “Aksh did not complete his assignments, covering it up with lame excuses” she says. “He says you want him to follow in his sister's footsteps. That you will not hear of his ambition to play football professionally, and to study in the UWC [United World Colleges] because you want him near you. That you do not see his misery because you are so determined that your children get the right qualifications.”

 

And just because Samaira is a single working mother, Mrs. Khanna continues to be hostile: “The problem with all you working women is that you have no time for your husband, family, in-laws or even your children. Tell me, when did you last see your own mother and father?”

 

It is a well-written novel, with a deep emotional resonance, especially for women, because it is written from Samaira's perspective. Ratna has also touched upon life in high-society Delhi, with its volatile mix of politics and money, as well as the bias that women face in a patriarchal society. “And, most of the time, it is other women who inflict the suffering,” the author says.

 

Ratna had focused on these subjects in her first book, 'Daughter By Court Order'. It became a national bestseller and described a daughter's fight to get her rights, even as she confronts the abuse within families.

 

Interestingly, in both 'Daughter By Court Order' and 'It's Not about you', Ratna has begun each chapter with a quotation. So, one of the chapters in the second book starts with a quote by the late actor Robin Williams: 'I used to think the worst thing in life is to end up all alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel all alone'.

 

What is surprising is that Ratna came to writing only in her early forties. “It was only at that age that I felt that I had a story to tell,” says Ratna, who studied at St. Stephen's College, New Delhi, and the London School of Economics. “I still have more stories in me, because I have experienced life, good and bad, with my five senses.”

 

Finally, on asked to give tips for aspiring authors, the full-time writer says, “Writing is a lonely occupation. So, you have to keep yourself motivated. Reward yourself when you reach a certain word count. Don’t give up. [Best-selling author] JK Rowling got 21 rejections. I often listen to her 2011 Harvard commencement speech to get inspired.” 

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