“My husband speaks his mind”

 

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn 

Usha talks about her husband, P.C. George, the Chief Whip of the Kerala Government

By Shevlin Sebastian

When P.C. George was campaigning for the 1980 Kerala Assembly elections for the Poonjar constituency, he would drop in to see panchayat president P.K. Mathew at Edappady [a town between Bharananganam and Pala]. Mathew’s daughter Usha remembers George striding into the house. “He wore a starched white shirt and mundu,” she says. They met, but did not speak to each other. “But George liked me from the very beginning,” says Usha. He became a regular visitor to the house. A few months later, the George family sent an official proposal. Thereafter, the parents met, and the marriage was fixed.

“We began talking on the phone after that,” says Usha. At that time, Usha was doing a home science course at Jyothy Bhawan, Moolamattom. “He came and met me a few times at the hostel,” says Usha. It was, of course, unthinkable to go out on a date. “Society was conservative then,” she says. “Since he was a politician, he always had a group of people with him. We spoke briefly about what was going on in our lives.”

The marriage took place on January 25, 1981. After 30 years of marriage, Usha still likes her husband’s frank and honest nature. “George speaks what is on his mind,” says Usha. “He attacks both the LDF, as well as the UDF. Because of his outspokenness, he has made many enemies. Now he needs police protection all the time. Sometimes, I tell him that maybe he should not be so forthright. But he has always been like this.”

Usha now goes to church every morning and prays for the safety of her husband and their family. “I worry about them all the time,” she says.

What Usha appreciates about George, the present MLA from Poonjar, is that he has given a lot of freedom to her. “I can go anywhere I want,” she says. “He rarely says no. Sometimes, I book my railway ticket and only then do I tell him that on this date I will be travelling.”

Like her husband, Usha has been having a busy life. For the past 28 years, she has been running the Mayflower Beauty Parlour and Tailoring Centre at Erattupetta, near the house in which they live. “We have about 15 employees,” she says. “This year, I have also started a business selling salwar kameezes and sarees.”

Other plus points about her husband: “He is not particular about his food,” says Usha. “All he wants is tasty stuff.”

As for his negative traits George, the Chief Whip of the Kerala Government, can get angry very fast.  “Sometimes, I have been hurt by what he has said,” she says. He is also particular that nobody uses his things, like the comb or brush. “He does not like anybody to remove it, without telling him,” she says. “But despite all this, even though he does not show it, George loves me and the children very much.”

The couple have two sons, Shone, 29, an advocate who is now working with his father in politics, and is married to actor Jagathy’s daughter, Parvathy. The second child, Shane, is in Class 12 at St. Thomas College in Thiruvananthapuram.

“Both the children would miss their father when they were young, because George was always on the move,” says Usha. “But they understand him and his career better now that they have grown up.”

The life in politics is one of never-ending tension, but George, who is the vice-chairman of the Kerala Congress (Mani), does not talk to his wife about it. “There is no discussion of politics at home,” says Usha. “If my husband is tense, you rarely see it on his face. But I know that he is under stress when he starts smoking a lot.”

And she says that she follows his political moves by watching the news channels. “He does not tell us anything, but blurts out everything on TV,” she says, with a smile.  

Husband and wife love each other, despite all the ups and downs. Asked for advice to give young people, in these times of skyrocketing divorce rates, Usha says, “If the mother or mother-in-law is good, then the family will not have any problems. If there are any conflicts between the son and daughter in law, a mother-in-law should solve it. However, they tend to add salt to the wounds. In many divorce cases that I know of, it was the mother-in-law who contributed to the break-up. She should have been the one who solved the problems.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram) 

'Attitudes are changing in the Malayalam film industry'

By Anwar Rasheed

(As told to Shevlin Sebastian)  

Photo: Anwar Rasheed (left) with Dulquer Salman 

My latest film, 'Ustad Hotel', is a hit. I am happy about that. All the hard work has paid off. From the time the script was written till it hit the screen, I was out of the house. The time taken was one-and-a-half years. So now I am spending time with my wife, Teresa, five-year-old son, Aadhi, and Aditi who is four. We have just returned from a vacation in Ooty. Of course, I am basking in the success of 'Ustad Hotel'. It deals with with human relationships and is a story of two generations: an old man [Thilakan] and his grandson [Dulquer Salman, Mammooty's son] with widely different attitudes. This film is the coming of age of Dulquer. He has clearly moved away from the giant shadow of his father and established his acting credentials.

Many people ask me how I select my scripts. When I listen to a story I look for simplicity. Thereafter, I ask myself whether it will appeal to the widest range of people. My mother rarely sees films on TV or in the theatre. I need to make a film where my mother feels the urge to come and see it. I would also have to make a movie for a person like me who is crazy about films. There are people who will only come to the theatre if they read good reviews. This category has increased thanks to the multiplexes. There are also members of the audience who like to watch new ideas and concepts. But, at the same time, there are many who prefer tried and tested ideas like a strong plot, melodrama, some humourous moments and melodious songs. These people comprise the majority. I don't know whether this is good or bad.

So selecting the right script is not easy. In the past few weeks, there are many writers who have been calling me with scripts they want me to read or at least have a hearing. To save time, I ask them to tell it to me on the phone. I cannot spend 24 hours on cinema all the time. I need to devote time to my family. Sometimes, I ask them to send a synopsis by e-mail. If I find anything interesting I might meet the scriptwriter face-to-face and hear the story again.

Nowadays, people feel they can access the industry. Earlier, you had to go outside the director’s house and wait for hours before you got a chance to talk to him. Then you had to work as an assistant for many years. That was how I began. I am happy to see that things are opening up.

Attitudes are also changing. A decade ago, it was important that your first film should be a hit; otherwise, people would not accept you. For a hit to happen, you needed a good script and an actor who could draw in the audience, like superstar Mammooty. Today, if a first film does not do well, producers will say that the director has talent and therefore they will place their faith in him for the next film. In other words, he will get another opportunity. This is great! Talented people are getting a look-in. It will lead to a creative flowering in the Malayalam film industry.

(Anwar Rasheed is a young director in Mollywood)

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

High drama and tension

The play, ‘Pune Highway’ electrifies a Kochi audience with its witty one-liners and swift developments

 

By Shevlin Sebastian

 

It is 5 a.m. In a hotel room beside the Pune-Mumbai highway, are three friends, Nicholas Thomas (Nick), Vishnu and Pradeep Khandelwal.

 

It is a seedy room. On the wall, a graffiti line can be seen: ‘Clenliness (sic) is next to godliness’. There is a washbasin at one side; a table and chair on the other end. Next to a bed in the middle, there is a phone placed on a low stool.

 

Earlier, Nick, Pradeep, Vishnu and Babu had been travelling in a car. Accompanying them is Pradeep’s girlfriend, Mona.

 

There seems to be a body on the road. The friends stop to investigate. Immediately, they are attacked by a gang of ruffians with swords. They rush back to the car, but Babu has received multiple wounds and is left behind. Now they are in the hotel room, wondering what to do now. “The cops will finish us if they find out,” says Pradeep. “Look at us: three rich boys, a Mitsubishi Lancer, and a girl.”

 

But this is not accepted by Nick. “You wanted to slip off,” he says. “You were only bloody thinking of yourself.”

 

Retorts Pradeep: “It was either saving Babu or saving all our asses. It was a judgement call.”

 

Vishnu, the stockbroker, says, “It was a wrong one, Pramod. You were too busy with the babe in the backseat of the car.”

 

There is an intense argument with the three of them, with Nick drawing hilarious laughter from the audience, because he stammers and stumbles over words and sentences.

 

A waiter, Sakharam, comes in with tea they had not ordered. But Sakaram insists they had placed the order. Nick says, “I hate these buggers, their attitude just sucks.” Sakharam leaves after a while.

 

Meanwhile, when queried about Mona, Pradeep says that she has gone to her father’s house in Lonavla. Asked why she was allowed to do so, Pradeep shouts, “We don’t want her to get involved in all this. It is best to keep chicks out of all this. Women panic under pressure. They are not like us guys.”

 

When his two friends ask Pradeep on how he came across Mona, he says, “We met in a bar and got talking about horses.”

 

Immediately Nick says, “So you only know this babe for a few days and you start riding her.”

 

The waiter reappears by singing Kishore’s Kumar’s ‘Andheri raaton mein sunsaan rahon par’.

 

Nick says, “He is messing with our brains.”

 

He shouts at Sakharam, “Take a walk.” Since the waiter does not know English, Nick says, in Hindi,

“Tum iha se paidal jao.” The audience, at the TT Pac, Kochi, is in splits. Then Sakharam says, “Maal a raha he. Quality  maal (A beautiful girl is coming along).”

Suddenly, Mona comes in. She is wearing a reddish top, which is cut at the midriff and tight white trousers, with a golden belt. A sunglass is placed in her hair and she is wearing large earrings and bright red lipstick. As she answers the question about why she came, she suddenly has a vomiting sensation and rushes to the bathroom.  

 

When she returns, Vishnu asks her point-blank, “Why have you vomited? Is it some bad food you ate late night or you are carrying his bastard child?”

 

Mona smiles and says, “Pramod, we are pregnant.”

 

Pramod says, “We cannot have this child. Do an abortion.”

 

She says, “How can you not accept your responsibility? This is 50 per cent your creation, no? It is not a game, Promo. I want you to accept your responsibility.”

 

A few dialogues later, the three friends realize that Mona is the daughter of an influential politician, Sanjay Mansekhar

 

Says Nick to Pramod: “This is serious shit. Don’t you know anything about the people you are screwing or what?”

 

More witty dialogues later, Mona understands that Pramod has been married to Seema for 12 years.  

“You wanted to have your fun, but now pay-up time has come,” says Mona. “All you boys are the same.”

 

And she rushes out of the room. Thereafter Sakharam comes in and tells them that Manshekhar’s henchmen are coming and there is no escape.

 

It is a gripping play, with superb one-lines and repartees by writer-director Rahul D’Cunha, which keeps the action moving forward at an electrifying place. The acting is superb, by Rajit Kapur (Pradeep), Ashwin Mushran (Vishnu), Yamini Namjoshi (Mona), and Shankar Sachdev (waiter), but the standout performance was by Bugs Bhargava Krishna as the stammering Nick.

 

‘ Pune Highway ’ was premiered at the Writers’ Bloc festival in 2004, and there have been over a hundred performances in India. It was also staged at the prestigious Biennale Bonn Festival in Germany, as well as in the UK, South Korea, Holland, Belgium, and Malaysia. 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Shepherding artistic talent

Sunitha Kumar Emmart, who owns Gallery SKE in Bangalore, talks about nurturing new artists and how the Kochi Biennale will be a success

Photo: Sunitha Kumar Emmart (extreme left) with art dealers Eglantine de Ganay and Sylvia Arguello at Art Basel, Miami Beach, Florida, USA

By Shevlin Sebastian

“I was just blown away by the spaces in Aspinwall and Pepper Houses,” says Sunitha Kumar Emmart, who owns Gallery SKE (her initials) in Bangalore. “I recently returned from the 'Documenta' art exhibition, which is held every five years in Kassel. Germany. The venues in Fort Kochi are comparable to anything you see internationally.”

There is an amazing character to all the places. “Apart from that, there is the history,” says Sunitha. “In terms of landscape, the Biennale locations are wonderful, set in the little roads of Fort Kochi, a small town with a great personality. There are temples, churches and mosques and this multiculturalism is exciting.”

She remembers standing in one of the studios at Pepper House. “There is this idyllic scene of the water at one side, when suddenly a cruise boat goes past, blaring Hindi music,” she says. “On the other other side is the Customs House. It is a mix of the old and the new, the touristy and the historical.”

Sunitha is confident the Biennale is going to be a grand success. “It will bring the Indian artistic community together,” she says. “Hopefully, ordinary people will get engaged in art.”

Sunitha, of course, is fully engaged in art. She started Gallery SKE in Bangalore in 2003. And it displays a wide range: sound, photography, painting, installation, video and sculpture. 

And Sunitha has different aims from other owners. “Some galleries are non-profit, while others are gung-ho commercial places,” she says. “A few, like mine, are in-between. In fact, I am not somebody who listens to the market. My skills as a business person are not that great.”

Sunitha's skill lies in spotting new talent, and working with them from the beginning, till they flower as artists. “I look for drive and ambition, and an inner connection,” she says. “If everything clicks, I reach out my hand in friendship. In fact, I believe in a long-term relationship. When gallery owners do a show with an unknown, and if it is successful, only then will they call him back. If not, they will ignore them. But I believe that not every show can be a great one and young artists should be given more chances.”

Some of the artists Sunitha has discovered have gone on to become commercial successes. They include Sudarshan Shetty, Sakshi Gupta, Sheela Gowda and Bharti Kher.

What is unusual about Sunitha, as a gallery owner, is that she has avoided going to the established artists. “The role of the gallery is to create patronage and exposure,” she says. “There is a lack of a challenge to work with a known artiste.”

Asked to analyse the personalities of artists, she says, “Most of the good ones have a certain madness in them, but in a good way. However, some are dull, while others try hard to be sensational but they usually have a low quality of content. Nevertheless, the world will be a dull place without these lovable people.”

But life is not easy for the artists, as the art scene is not well developed in India. “We just don't have enough of museums, private foundations, and not too many great private collections like the way it has been established for hundreds of years in the West,” says Sunitha. “A lot of us are trying to do something about it.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram) 

Married to a Communist

COLUMN: Spouse’s Turn

Vinodini talks about life with the former Home Minister Kodiyeri Balakrishnan

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Vinodini Rajagopalan was in Class 8, she remembers seeing her future husband, the former Home Minister Kodiyeri Balakrishnan. “He was wearing a cream shirt and mundu,” says Vinodini. The 23-year-old Balakrishnan had come to see Vinodini's father, M.V. Rajagoplan, a CPI(M) leader from Thalaserry. Both the families lived in the same area. However, when Vinodini grew up, she went to do a Teacher's Training Course in Bangalore. It was during this time that a proposal came to Rajagopalan from the Balakrishnan family. So Vinodini returned and got married to Balakrishnan on April 27, 1980 at a ceremony at the Old Town Hall at Thalaserry.

Following the function, the couple returned home and had lunch. Thereafter, Balakrishnan left. “My relatives were present in the house, but Balakrishnan went to attend a meeting of the DYFI (Democratic Youth Federation of India) at Thalaserry, accompanied by leaders like MA Baby and CP John,” says Vinodini. “So, there was no question of a honeymoon.”

However, three months later, the couple travelled together by train to attend a DYFI meeting at Kottayam. “That was the first time we spent some time together,” she says.

But 32 years later, Vinodini has only good things to say about her husband. “I can only talk from my own experience,” she says. “At home, Balakrishnan is pleasant and loving. He rarely loses his temper. But it is true that when he loses it, it can be severe. One of the reasons we fight very little is because he is rarely at home.”

What helped Vinodini to handle the absence was her earlier experience. “My father was a politician [a MLA from Thalaserry] and I understand that life,” she says. “Politicians can spare very little time for the family. So, I don't demand anything from my husband, nor do I ask that he take me out anywhere.”

And for the first 16 years, while Vinodini lived with her sons, Benoy and Bineesh at Thalaserry, Balakrishnan lived in Thiruvananthapuram, with a brief stint in Kannur. “When he was in Kannur, as the Zilla Secretary, he stayed at the party office during the week and came home only on the weekends.”

As a result, the sons pined for the father. “They missed him a lot,” says Vinodini. “But as a father, Balakrishnan was more like a friend, rather than a parent. In fact, I was the strict one in the family.”

However, in 1996, the family relocated to Thiruvananthapuram, and they finally began to live together as a family.

Because of Balakrishnan's constant absence, Vinodini had to shoulder the responsibility of running the household. “I had to look after the children's studies, ensure that their schooling went smoothly, and handle all the other problems,” she says. “I still buy all the clothes for my husband, including his handkerchiefs, cuff links, and shirts. Balakrishnan did not know anything about the house then, nor does he know anything now. In fact, finding the girls for my sons' marriage was also done by me.”

And both the sons gave their parents an extraordinary experience. Their wives gave birth on the same day in the same year: July 25, 2011. Bineesh's wife, Rineeta, gave birth to a daughter, Bhadra, at 7 a.m. in Thiruvananthapuram, while Benoy's wife, Akhila, had a son, Aryan, at noon in Thrissur. “Yes, it was amazing and one of the big moments of our lives,” says Vinodini.

Balakrishnan has had big moments in his career, but there have been times of severe tension, because of controversies. So what happens when her husband is going through a stressful time and comes home? “I don't ask him the reasons,” says Vinodini. “I have no idea about politics. I just keep quiet and tell him all the household news. I feel that if I ask him about the problems that will deepen the stress and the worry.”

Meanwhile, moving around in society herself, Vinodini is worried at the high rate of divorce among young people these days. “Part of the blame has to be placed on the parents of the girls,” she says. “They should not interfere in their daughter's lives. Let her solve the marital problems on her own. And the daughter should not be encouraged to leave the marriage. Because one day the parents will die and the girl will be left all alone.”

About Kodiyeri Balakrishnan

Kodiyeri Balakrishnan is deputy opposition leader of the Kerala Assembly. He held the same post from 2001-6. During the rule by the LDF government (2006-11), he was the home and tourism minister. Today, he is a politburo member of the CPI(M). Balakrishnan was the MLA, from Thalaserry, in 1982, 1987, 2001, and 2006. During the Emergency (1975-77), Balakrishnan was imprisoned for 16 months. 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

“One of the great moments of my life”

Director Blessy talks about his experience of shooting the delivery of his lead actress, Shwetha Menon, in Mumbai

By Shevlin Sebastian

“This is one of the most moving experiences of my life,” says director Blessy, about the shooting of the delivery of actress Shwetha Menon at Nanavati Hospital, Mumbai, on Thursday evening. “Even though I am a father of two sons [Adith, 17, and Akhil, 14], I did not see first-hand the birth of my own children.”

On Friday afternoon, a relieved Blessy was on his way to the airport in Mumbai to fly to Chennai. “It is one of God's greatest gifts that a woman is able to give birth to a child,” he said. “We talk about man's creativity but yesterday I realised that one of the most stunning creations on earth is the birth of a child. I understood the magnitude of the event only when I actually saw it taking place.”

Blessy was shooting these scenes as part of a film on motherhood called 'Kalimannu'. When Shwetha became pregnant, Blessy asked her whether she could be part of the project. Later, Shwetha and husband, Sreevalsan Menon, gave permission to shoot the delivery. But Blessey and his team had to ensure that everything went smoothly.

“A film-maker can re-shoot a scene many times,” says the director. “He can edit it in the editing room. But during the delivery, if you blink your eyes you will miss the actual moment of birth. There are no second chances or rehearsals.”

Blessy had camped in the hospital for a week, spending days and nights. And there was a reason for this. “The doctor told us that Shwetha could deliver at any time during the two weeks before the delivery date,” says Blessy. In fact, the birth of the baby girl took place ten days earlier than scheduled.

The team also spent two days in the labour room, to ensure that they placed the three cameras in the right place and the lighting was perfect. “The doctor will not move his position to suit the cameras,” says Blessy. “He is concentrating on ensuring a safe delivery.”

In the labour room there is an anaesthetist, a paediatrician, a gynaecologist and a couple of nurses. Apart from them, there was Blessy and his four-member crew. “Yes, it was quite crowded,” he says. “But, in the end, everything turned out fine.”

The shooting of the film will continue, once Shwetha is ready to face the cameras. “I have not spoken to her about when this will happen,” says Blessy. “I am sure father and mother are enjoying the precious moments with their new-born.”

(The New Indian Express, Kerala)

Going fast, going slow

Ace singer Swetha Mohan sang a mix of ghazals and peppy songs to keep an audience happy at the JT Pac

By Shevlin Sebastian

"My big thanks to Jose Thomas Sir [MD of Choice Group]," said Shweta Mohan, at the start of her two-hour concert at the JT Pac, Kochi, recently. "'He just called me and said, ‘Swetha, we want your show here.’ And there was no interference after that. So I decided to compile a list of songs that I love." 

Shweta was wearing a pink 'lacha', with glittering earrings and necklace, and looked attractive with her shoulder-length black hair and easy smiles. She began with 'Krishna Mukunda' and her voice was rich and soaring. What was amazing to see was the presence of 12 musicians, playing instruments like the drums, flute, cello, keyboard, saxophone, guitars and the tabla. 

She moved easily into 'Shyam Hari' from the Shyamaprasad film, 'Arike' and 'Nee korinaal' from the Tamil film, '180',  whose music was composed by Shareth of Idea Star Singer fame. This had a big impact on the youngsters, who burst into sustained applause, even before the song ended.

Meanwhile, moving things along was the compere, upcoming singer Anand Narayan, who anchors the 'Josco Indian Voice', a music reality show. He jumped down from the stage and urged the audience to sing along, as he launched into 'Chikku bukku rayile from 'Rock On'. And Anand was generous with his adjectives, calling Shweta, “a great, great singer.”  

Soon, Shweta was back and sang a Lata Mangeshkar song from ‘Dastak’ followed by a ghazal by Asha Bhonsle: 'Bheeni bheeni bhor'.

“The secret of this list of songs is my parents,” said Shweta. “They made me listen to many Tamil, Hindi and Malayalam songs.”

In the audience was Shweta’s family: her mother Sujatha, father Dr. Krishna Mohan, businessman-husband Ashwin Shashi, and other relatives.   

Thereafter, Shweta talked about a song by the great Tamil poet Subramanya Bharati. “It is about a mother singing praises of her child,” she said. Then the singer translated a few lines:

'When you come running towards me, my heart chills,

When I see you dancing with merriness, my soul hugs you.

When I smell the top of your head, I feel strongly proud,

If I hear someone praise you with sincerity, my skin tingles with excitement.'

“My singing teacher Binni Chechi taught me this,” said Swetha. “And this is dedicated to all the mothers of Choice School.”

It was a series of slow songs, one after the other, but it came as a surprise when Swetha suddenly said, “Am I boring you?”

There was a silence, except for one cheeky youth at the back, who let out a drawn-out “Yessssss.” Of course, it was done tongue-in-cheek. 

But Swetha explained her selection: “I was not looking at doing the usual commercial show,” she said. “Instead, I chose to experiment. Because in the other shows, we don't get an opportunity to do something like this. In fact, this selection is a true representation of the kind of music that has influenced me over the years.”

But Swetha also did sing fast numbers like 'y this kolaveri' and 'kuttanaadan punjayile' which kept the audience happy and spell-bound. 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi) 

“Women should promote themselves”

Dr. Tanvi Gautam, an international HR consultant, based in Singapore, talks about how networking and mentors can enable women to become a success at the workplace

By Shevlin Sebastian

“The workplace of today is being managed by using the models of the traditional and agrarian industries,” says Dr. Tanvi Gautam, an international HR consultant, based in Singapore. “You went to the field when the sun rose and returned when the sun set. Being on the field was the only way work got done. But now we are living in a knowledge economy, where my sunset is somebody's sunrise.”

Tanvi says the model of 9 to 5 has broken down. “But the way we are managing people it is as though we are working in the fields,” she says. “We expect somebody to show up at 9 a.m., even though they might have a conference call with a client at 11 p.m. If the work is happening, 24 x 7, then evaluating somebody according to the 9 to 5 clock does not help. While work has changed, the way we think, manage and evaluate performance has not changed. We still think that people who work late in office, who are putting in long hours, are more committed than those who work from home.”

But research has shown that some of the virtual workers are more committed and engaged, because they realise that if they want to prove how good they are, they have to work extra hard. “The reason is they are not seen in the way people in office are,” says Tanvi.

But managers have not developed the expertise to monitor the work of people who are in virtual space. “They have no idea of what real output looks like,” says Tanvi. “So managers are still paying for the TIME, and not the VALUE of the worker.”

The HR consultant is a proponent of high-engagement work places. “This means you are in a job where you get up and don't dread that it is a Monday morning,” she says. “You love your work and have the opportunity to be yourself. Most of all, you are highly engaged in what you are doing, because it has some meaning for you.”

One such company is Facebook. “It has a wonderful work culture,” says Tanvi. “It is not a company with 40,000 employees. In fact, they have less than 3000 but the employees are passionate about what they do. One of the rules they have in HR is that when an employee asks for something, they never throw the rule book at them.”

Also, certain companies, like Apple, have a specific work culture. “For someone who is uncomfortable with speaking up and brainstorming, and who feels offended if his ideas are rejected, that kind of person will never survive in Apple,” says Tanvi.

But Facebook and Apple are the exceptions. In most companies, there is a lack of an environment that generates passion and commitment. “In fact, disengagement has become a major problem in the work place,” says Tanvi. “People are showing up, but not doing any worthwhile work. A CEO was asked how many people work for him, and he replied, 'About 50 per cent.'”

Tanvi had come to Kochi to address the annual conference of the National Institute of Personnel Management. She also gave a talk to the Women’s Forum, of the Kerala Management Association, on the subject, 'Your Network is your Net Worth: Some Strategies for Success'.

At the Forum, she focused on the careers of women. “They do not promote themselves at the work place,” she says. “For example: when a woman is present at a meeting, she might have an interesting idea, but will not speak up. She does not want to look foolish or come across as aggressive. But some male colleague will come out with a similar idea and everybody will applaud him.”

Women believe that if they do sincere and hard work, they will be recognised and rewarded. “But that does not happen,” says Tanvi. “You have to make sure that the people who are taking decisions are in the know of what you are doing. You have to be seen as leadership material. You need a network, as well as mentors, who will guide you. These are things you have to work on, over and above the work you are doing.”

Audience member, Dr. Lalitha Mathew, says, “I especially liked Tanvi’s concept of mentoring. She said that one should not depend on one person. Instead, there should be different mentors for different needs, like financial, emotional, and in one's career. Overall, she was an impressive speaker.”   

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram) 

Timely advice that changed Thilakan's life

News: Thilakan, one of Malayalam cinema's great actors, died on Monday, September 24, at the age of 77, following a cardiac arrest. He had acted in over 200 films

By Shevlin Sebastian

In 1955, Thilakan joined S.N. College in Kollam. For a college function, he enacted the role of a doctor in a play called, ‘Two plus two is five’, by T.N. Gopinathan.

After the audience left, there was one man who remained in the hall. Thilakan went close and noticed that it was Professor Shivaprasad, the president of the Arts Club. The man said, “You are a good actor, and must join the Arts Club. This year we must do something great together.”

Thereafter, Thilakan got the role of Mark Antony in the play, ‘Julius Caeser’. But he was not confident about whether he could essay such a role. But Shivaprasad urged him to take it, and said, “It is easy to eat a banana, but to have sugarcane juice, you need to squeeze it out of the cane.”

By coincidence, the film, ‘Julius Caeser’ with Marlon Brando as Mark Antony, was showing at Kollam. The Arts Club paid the money so that Thilakan could see every show for three days.

“Marlon Brando was muscular, good-looking, and had a powerful delivery,” said Thilakan, during an interaction with this reporter at the Lal Media office in Kochi three years ago. “How could I match that?”

Fortunately, Thilakan had a photographic memory and remembered every nuance and gesture of Brando’s. Meanwhile, when students came to know that Thilakan had gone to see 'Julius Caeser' for nine shows in a row, they were keen to see the rehearsals. A few of them were planning to boo him.

Thilakan stepped forward and shouted:

‘Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears,

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.

The evil that men do lives after them,

The good is oft interred with their bones.’

The audience became silent. Soon, they were held spellbound by Thilakan’s acting. When he finished, the students clapped loudly.

But when Thilakan looked at Shivaprasad, the teacher had no expression on his face. Finally, Shivaprasad said, “You have impersonated Marlon Brando. All the people of Kollam have seen his acting. Don’t mimic anybody. You are Thilakan. So, give an original version of Mark Antony.”

It was a life-changing moment. And for the first time in the 90-minute conversation, Thilakan became silent. As he pressed strands of tobacco into the bowl of a black pipe, Thilakan had a far-away look on his face.

After several moments he said, “I have acted in numerous plays and films. Can anyone say I have imitated anybody? Every character has come from within. I became a good actor only because of this great bit of advice.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi) 

An enduring love

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Nisha talks about life with Jose K Mani, the Member of Parliament from Kottayam

Photo by K. Shijith 

By Shevlin Sebastian

It was September, 1993. Nisha was waiting in a room in the house of her grandfather, NJ Chandy, in Alleppey. Suddenly, there was the sound of cars arriving in the courtyard. When Nisha peeped in from the window, she saw a cream Ambassador car, with the number plate, 1616. A young man stepped out. “He wore a yellow and white striped shirt and blue trousers,” says Nisha. “He looked smart and business-like.”

The young man, Jose K Mani, was the son of veteran politician, KM Mani. Jose had come to see Nisha during an 'arranged marriage meeting'. But the Chandys had already done their homework on Jose's character.  

“Whoever we asked told us that Jose was a caring, well-educated, and God-fearing person,” says Nisha. “So I thought this guy sounds nice. I liked the character before I saw the person.” Jose also liked Nisha. Apparently, he had seen her win the Miss Kerala beauty contest title (in association with Femina) in 1991.

The couple got married at the St. Thomas Cathedral in Pala on February 6, 1994. And after 18 years of marriage, Nisha only has praise for her husband. “Jose is warm and caring,” she says. “When I come out of the bathroom after a bath, he will immediately ask me whether I have dried my hair properly. However late he comes, sometimes, he will tell me he had his dinner, even though he has not. I don't think any husband in Kerala will allow this. They expect food on the table all the time.”

Nisha knows that Jose has not had his dinner when he starts nibbling chocolate from the refrigerator. “So, I always keep aside something in the fridge for him,” she says. “All I have to do is to heat it up.”

Nearly every day, the Member of Parliament from Kottayam comes home after midnight. “Then Jose does a lot of work on government files,” says Nisha. “He reads a lot, including articles and books. I keep away, because I don't want to disturb him. I give him a lot of space. Jose goes to sleep at 2 a.m., and awakens at 6.15 a.m. But I have a habit of getting up late. He leaves the room without making a noise.”

Nisha is amazed that sometimes, at 1 a.m. when she goes to him with a problem, Jose pays attention intently. “To listen to me, after such a long day, you need to have immense patience,” says Nisha. “Sometimes, we discuss our children.”

The couple has three children: Priyanka, 16, Ritika, 14, and KM Mani (Junior), 9.

Another plus point of Jose: “There are many politicians who preach that the women should be educated and empowered, but my husband practices what he preaches,” says Nisha.

Thanks to Jose’s encouragement, Nisha did her cost accountancy from the Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram chapters of the Institute of Cost and Works Accountants of India and got a Masters of Human Resource Management degree through long-distance study from the Symbiosis Institute in Pune. “Today, I work as a freelance HR consultant,” she says.

But the one negative point about Jose is his intense desire for cleanliness in their bungalow at Kottayam at all times. “Jose expects the house to be spic and span,” says Nisha “Everything has to be in its proper place. A pillow, by mistake, cannot be on the floor. If we return from a journey, the clothes have to be immediately unpacked, and the bags put back in the cupboard where they are usually kept.”

Nisha pauses and says, “We only have arguments about this.”

But there are no arguments for Nisha regarding her most unforgettable experience. Jose had contested the 2004 elections for the Muvattupuzha constituency. “We were watching TV and it was clear that Jose was losing,” says Nisha. “It was the first time I was experiencing something like this. I went to my room and began crying. Jose walked in. He had a look of peace on his face. He told me, 'Come, let us go out.'”

Outside in the garden, several party workers were milling about. They were crestfallen and there was a gloomy silence all around. Jose pointed at the workers and said, “Nisha, the people are sad and dejected. If we don’t remain calm and composed, they will be totally shattered.” Thereafter, he left Nisha and began mingling with the workers. “I just fell in love with him once again,” says Nisha. “It was amazing to see the way he handled the defeat, and the strength with which he moved forward. My love for him doubled.” 

About Jose K Mani

Jose K Mani belongs to the Kerala Congress (Mani). In 2007, he became the general secretary of the party. He won the Lok Sabha elections in 2009 from the Kottayam constituency by defeating Suresh Kurup of the CPI(M) by over 70,000 votes.

He is one of the youngest members of Parliament and is a member of the Lok Sabha Committee on Transport, Tourism and Culture.

Jose graduated from Loyola College, Chennai, and got a MBA degree from the PSG College of Technology, Coimbatore.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram) 

All About Houses

38 artists from six nations give their impressions about dwelling places

Photos: Self-portrait by Hayan Lee; ‘The All-Purpose Room,’by Kavita Singh Kale

By Shevlin Sebastian


In the ‘Eco Strokes’ painting exhibition, there are 37 paintings and just one photograph. This is a self-portrait by South Korean artist Hayan Lee. It has the narrowed eyes of a South Korean woman, looking unblinkingly at the viewer, with sensuous red lips, the head covered by a flamboyant red turban and a hibiscus tucked at one corner, just above the ear.

This painting was done at the week-long ‘Speaking House’ camp, held at the Marari Beach Resort, belonging to the CGH Earth Group at Alleppey. Around 26 artists from six nations took part in the camp. Hayan’s untitled work was to be exhibited, but, unfortunately, for her, the painting was attacked by fungus and could not be shown. Hence, the photograph was displayed. Under it, curator Radha Gomaty wrote: “I am forced now to place this photograph with a bereaved feeling. It is like replacing someone who was so vibrantly alive amongst us. The red hibiscus is Korea ‘s national flower, even if it not so common in Kerala.”

When Radha asked Hayan at the end of a discussion if she knew what the red hibiscus tucked behind the ear meant in Kerala, she said, “Of course I do! It means you are crazy, right? I put it there deliberately because of that.”

Incidentally, the exhibition was organised by the Building Association of India. It is a prelude to the 40th Convention of the International Federation of Asian and Western Pacific Contractors’ Associations being held in Kochi.

Filipino artist Ambie Abano’s work, ‘My Home Resides Within’, shows a middle-aged woman with eyes closed. The eyelashes are thick and arched, the nose is long and patrician, and the red lips, like Hayan’s painting, sensuous. It could be an Indian or a Filipino woman. “But it is actually a self-portrait,” says Ambie. “Home is not just about a physical space, but a spiritual state.”

 Ambie, of course, was deeply influenced by her encounter with Kerala. “It is a paradise,” she says. “It was nice meeting people who are deeply grounded, warm and sensitive. It made me aware of the ‘other’ and my connectedness with them.”

The Chennai-based Benitha Percyal’s striking work could be about a woman, with nice curves. But it looks like a tree. And in the middle, there are several seeds, pasted on the paper, but the whole thing is shaped like a uterus or is it a vagina? The materials Benitha has used include seeds, torn paper, and tea on paper. “Of course, seed is a metaphor for life,” says Benitha. “I wanted to portray womanhood. Indirectly, the image is a self-portrait.”

On the other hand, Kavita Singh Kale of Mumbai has done several portraits. Titled, ‘The All-Purpose Room,’ which is an acrylic on canvas, she has drawn several square panels in which men and women are standing. The women are wearing sarees, salwar kameezes, skirts, housecoats and jumpers, with names, written in Hindi, like Ameesha, Amala, Shivani and Nina. The men are wearing trousers, dhotis and Bermuda shorts, having names like Tapan, Hari and Ram.

 “I wanted to reveal life in the chawls of Mumbai,” says Kavita, who lives in the city. “Many families live in one room where they live, sleep, and worship their gods. This work shows a morning scene where people are getting ready to go to work or to schools while the women are setting out to do the daily cleaning and washing.”

 Meanwhile, CB Bahuleyan shows a nest of bird’s eggs growing around the thin rods between two concrete beams. In the distance can be seen several multi-storeyed buildings.

This is an indication that even though development, in the form of buildings, seems to smash through Nature, life still goes on: eggs hatch, babies are born, and they will grow up into adults. “I have been inspired by the works of Rene Magritte [a Belgian surrealist painter],” says Bahuleyan.

All in all, it is a remarkable exhibition, which grips and holds the viewer.

Those who took part include Anjum Chaturvedi, Saami Atmaja, Sosa Joseph, Dedy Sufriadi, Gayatri Gamuz, T.K. Harindran, Kim Seola, Lalitha Lajmi, Lavanya Mani, Madhu Venugopal, Maneesha Doshi, Rashmi Trivedi, Rathidevi Panikker, Ritu Kamath, Radha Gomaty, Sajitha Shankar, Satyanand Mohan, Sayaka Arase, Shivani Aggarwal, V. Ramesh and Veer Munshi.

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)