The Beauty of Hand-Drawn Letters

Thoufeek Zakriya is the only Muslim Hebrew calligrapher in South Asia. The Malayali talks about the art form 

Photo by TP Sooraj  

By Shevlin Sebastian

One day, Thoufeek Zakriya fixed a meeting with his friend, Srinath, at Fort Kochi. Srinath lived in Kannur, 295 kms from Kochi. Since Thoufeek had told Srinath about his interest in calligraphy and Jewish history, he brought his works along, among which was the Birkat Ha Bayit, the Jewish blessing for the home.

The words went like this:

Let no sadness come through this gate.
Let no trouble come to this dwelling.
Let no fear come through this door.
Let no conflict be in this place.
Let this home be filled with the blessing of joy and peace.

When Srinath saw it, he was much impressed. Thereafter, the friends went sightseeing and landed up in Jew Town. While there, the duo saw an old woman sitting outside her house and stitching a kippah (a cap). At the insistence of Srinath, Thoufeek showed the Hebrew calligraphy to her. “When she saw it, she became very excited,” says Thoufeek. “That was Sarah Cohen. She asked me how I had learnt the art. I said I was self-taught.”

Thereafter, Sarah invited Thoufeek and Srinath into her house. She gave them pastries and coffee. “Our friendship began and I would visit her whenever I come to Kochi,” says Thoufeek, who is now a management trainee at a Taj hotel in Bangalore. “She is like a grandmother to me.”

Apart from Hebrew, Toufeek is an expert in calligraphy in Samarian, Syrian, English, Sanskrit, Hindi and Aramic, the language used by Jesus Christ.

“The printing of an alphabet has evolved from the calligraphic script,” says Thoufeek. But to do the art well, you need to have an idea of the language. “Since Arabic is the base for all the Semitic languages, it was easy to learn, since I know a little bit of Arabic,” says Thoufeek. The Semitic languages start from right to left. The first alphabet for all the languages is the Aleph.

The Syrian language is one of his favourites. A few years ago, Thoufeek went to the office of a Syrian Christian spice merchant. While there, he saw a picture of a cross placed against a floral background with a Syrian script underneath. “The merchant did not know how to read the language,” says Thoufeek.

Thereafter, Thoufeek, who was intrigued by the Syrian calligraphy, designed a similar one, based on the first verse in the Bible: ‘In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth’.

Incidentally, the equipment to make these eye-catching words is simple: a bamboo reed, to be used as a stylus, a Lamy calligraphic pen, which costs Rs 1500, and Indian ink.

Meanwhile, the reserved but excited Jews of Fort Kochi embraced Thoufeek to their hearts. “One day, Sarah took my parents, sisters and me for a visit to the Jewish synagogue on the festival day of Simchat Torah [a celebration marking the conclusion of the cycle of public readings of the Torah],” says Thoufeek. “This is a rare honour for a Muslim family.”

Along the way, Thoufeek has also gained international attention. “Thoufeek has made many calligraphic representations of the Torah by using the ancient Kufic Arabic script,” says Paul Rockover in an article in the popular Huffington Post. “Such work is a rarity in the calligraphic world, and his innovation has brought Thoufeek accolades from all over the world.” In fact, Thoufeek has been commissioned by Jews from as far away as Ukraine and the United States to create works that combine Arabic calligraphy with Jewish prayers. “Some people saw the different exhibits on my blog, got interested, and contacted me,” says Thoufeek.

Today, Thoufeek is regarded as the only Muslim Hebrew calligrapher in South Asia. “His work reminds us of the shared cultural and religious heritage of Jews and Muslims,” says Dr. Navras Jaat Aafreedi, Assistant Professor, Department of History and Civilisation, at Gautam Buddha University, Noida, who has done extensive research on Indian Jews. “It will help overcome the disputes, conflicts and differences between the two groups.” In fact, while presenting a paper at a conference at the University of Sydney in February, Aafreedi spoke at length on Thoufeek's calligraphy.

The youngster accidentally discovered the art form. When he was a teenager, he brought a pen on which there were symbols in English done in the calligraphic style. “I decided to copy them and that was how my interest in calligraphy began,” he says. Brought up on the island of Mattancherry, near Kochi, he spent hours doing calligraphy. “It has become a passion and an obsession,” says Thoufeek. 

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

The Feminine Mystique

Despite having acted in only 20 films, the last of which was released in 1999, Manju Warrier exerts a fascinating hold on the public imagination

By Shevlin Sebastian

The crew of 'Sallapam' (1996) were waiting patiently in the noonday sun, at a distance from the Shoranur railway station. Soon, they could see the train to Chennai pick up speed. Manju Warrier was playing Radha, a woman who wanted to commit suicide because her lover had rejected her. As Radha's cousin, actor Manoj K. Jayan was supposed to save her.

“As the train came close, at a speed of 100 kms per hour, Manju was so involved with being Radha that she threw herself with full force towards the track,” says Manoj. “An actor should always be in control whenever he or she does a role. But it seemed to me as if she had lost control. There was one terrifying moment when I felt that she would slip out of my hands.”

But he held on, the train whizzed past, and the four-minute sequence was shot perfectly. As soon as the shoot was complete, everybody clapped, except for Manju who burst into tears, because she was still in character. “That is Manju for you,” says Manoj. “Even, during this first film, as a heroine, she displayed the talent and poise of somebody who has acted in more than a hundred films. There is no doubt that she is one of our greatest actresses.”

Music composer Berny says that Manju is also a good singer. A few years ago, he, along with his elder brother, Ignatius, were making an album of festival songs by celebrities like Mammooty, Mohanlal and Manju. 

“She learnt the song quickly and sang it like any professional singer,” says Berny. “Manju has a natural gift for singing. In fact, she has a wide-ranging talent: she can act, sing and dance also.”

Berny also likes Manju the person. “At any public function, if she sees me, or Ignatius, she will come up and say a few words,” he says. “Manju has always been genuine, friendly, and down-to-earth.”

But what has been surprising is how the public has remained fascinated by Manju even though she has acted in only 20 films and her last film was released in 1999.

“Manju's films are always shown on TV,” says Berny. “And so the people are constantly reminded of what a great talent she is.”

Artist Radha Gomaty has another explanation. “Manju has a tremendous charisma,” says Radha. “She is beautiful in an unusual kind of way. It is not about glamour, but a certain grace combined with strength and an extraordinary flexibility.”

Collins Leophils, a designer, most notably of film posters, remembers seeing Manju at a photo shoot for the film ‘Mayamohini’, in which her husband Dileep played the hero. “The family had come to the studio,” says Collins. “Manju was wearing a saree and looked striking.”

Another reason for her impact was because she gave so much to her characters. “Even in a light-hearted film like 'Summer in Bethlehem', she brought an edge to her role as a tomboy who hides a sensitive heart,” says Radha. “In 'Aaraam Thampuram' she plays an insecure, temperamental but lovable rural woman. In 'Kannezhuthi Pottum Thotte', as the fiery Bhadra, she literally sets the screen aflame. Who else can carry it all off so well but Manju?” 

One who agrees is director B. Unnikrishnan. “Manju has acted in a way that was never seen before in Malayalam cinema,” he says. “She was such a young girl, and yet she was able to show so much of feminine power. She is the female equivalent of Mohan Lal.”

The good news is the persistent rumour that Manju will be making a comeback. However, the worry is that, after a gap of 14 years, her talent might have become rusted. “Can a talent ever get rusted?” says Unnikrishnan, with a smile. “Art is a mystery and magic.” 

A practical Manoj says, “There are a lot of people who admire Manju, so I am sure if she comes back now, she will be able to make an impact. Having said that, the industry, today, is at a different level, but she has the talent to be at the top.”

Radha is also sure Manju will do well. “Till now, there has been no script based on women characters in their mid-thirties and forties as raw and powerful as KG George's ‘Adaminte Vaariyelle,’” she says. “But now with new directors who are able to think out of the box, Manju's talent stands a chance to be utilised to the fullest.”

Jazeer Mohammed, an advertising film-maker, knows of many directors and producers who are waiting for Manju to restart her career. “She will get a lot of opportunities,” says Jazeer. “I don't think there is a problem that she has been away for so long.” Radha feels that she might take one or two films to get her groove back. “I am sure, one day, Manju will be back at her best,” she says. 

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

Married To A Comic

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn 

Santha Kumari talks about life with the comedian Indrans

 

By Shevlin Sebastian 

Photo by Kaviyoor Santosh

When her parents told her about the proposal, Santha Kumari was not sure whether she wanted to marry somebody from the film industry, but she kept quiet. In February, 1985, Indrans came to see Shanta. “I was so scared that I did not even look at him,” she says. “Later, my father told me that Indrans was earning enough and would be able to look after me.”

During that time, Indrans was getting bit roles here and there, and had worked as a costume designer in the industry for many years. But gradually he established himself as a comedian with his own unique style. Today, he has acted in over 200 films.

The marriage took place on February 23, 1985. “We had no honeymoon,” says Shanta. “There was no concept like that in those days.”

And, like in his films, Indrans, at home, is a man of good nature. “He is lively and cracks a lot of jokes,” says Shanta. “When he is around, I feel that there are a lot of people at home.”

But at the same time, he has serious moods. “Indrans likes to read a lot,” says Shanta. “Mostly, it is novels. Whenever he goes for a shoot, he will take a couple of books along so that he can read when he is alone in his room. Otherwise, he enjoys watching the news channels.”

His negative quality is that he has a short temper, but calms down quickly. “Indrans will lose his cool over the smallest of matters, and remain calm when something big takes place,” says Shanta. “So, his mood changes are unpredictable. In the initial years, I would get scared. But now I have got used to it, although Indrans has mellowed quite a bit.”

When Indrans is at home, his favourite occupation is that of a gardener. “He will water the plants, and plant new ones,” says Shanta. “He is in the garden in the morning, as well as the evening.” He grows orchids, sunflowers and leafy plants.

At night, sometimes, he will see the comedy shows on TV. “If there is a scene in which he is acting, he will keenly watch it and spot out errors in his acting,” says Shanta.

Since Indrans loves to see films, sometimes, husband and wife will go and see a noon show in one of the halls in Thiruvananthapuram. And Indrans is quickly recognised. “The people will come up and talk to him,” says Shanta. “They will ask about his latest film. Some will want to know the story and the names of the other actors. Sometimes, they will take photos on their mobile phone. If there are three friends, they will take a single shot one after the other, standing next to him. It makes me feel good to see him get a good response from the fans.”

Meanwhile, after the show, Shanta will give a response to her husband’s acting. “If I like his role, I will say that,” she says. “But if there are drawbacks I will point it out to him. My children also do that.”

The couple have two children, Mahitha, 27, and Mahendran, 26. While Mahitha is married and is the mother of a child, Mahendran is doing his MBA in Nooril Islam University in Thuckalay, Tamil Nadu.

“As a father, Indrans was more like a friend,” says Shanta. “He always used to play games with the children. I was the strict parent, because most of the time, they were with me, since my husband would be away on a shoot.”

Both Indrans and Shanta came from difficult financial backgrounds, so it was no surprise that Shanta's happiest moment occurred when she boarded an aeroplane for the first time a few years ago. “We spent ten days in Dubai, and had a good time,” she says.

Another blissful moment took place when their daughter got married in 2011. “A lot of people came, especially from the film industry, and we felt very happy about that,” says Shanta.

Asked whether she felt tense that in the uncertain world of the film industry, the next role might or might not come, Shanta says, “I believe that what we have to get, God will give.”

And this veteran of a 28-year marriage has clear tips to give to the younger generation. “Do not make small issues into big ones,” says Shanta. “You must discuss your problems. Being silent is a mistake. You must observe when the spouse is in a good mood and gently tell him about the tensions you are facing. Most of the time, you will be able to solves the issues amicably.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Bringing Light to Dark Places

Twins Amy Kuruvilla and Lydia Muirhead work to alleviate sexual slavery among women through their Ruby Road Project

Photo by T.P. Sooraj

By Shevlin Sebastian

Tulasi was 17 years old when she became pregnant. The brothel owner in Bengaluru panicked. He forced her to have a medicine that killed the baby. She felt bereft and suicidal. Tulasi doused herself with kerosene, and was about to use a matchstick, when her friends intervened and saved her. She had been a prostitute for a few years. But one day, during a police raid Tulasi was rescued and brought to Ooty by the NGO, 'Freedom Firm'.

Meanwhile, the Melbourne-based Amy Kuruvilla and her twin sister, Lydia, had arrived in Ooty. They had come on a nostalgic visit. For many years, they had lived there, the children of a Malayali, Kuruvilla George, and an Englishwoman, Margaret, before the family migrated to Australia in 1995.

When Amy and Lydia saw Tulasi and other rescued women, they were deeply moved. They decided to go back and create awareness about sexual slavery.

So, they set up the Ruby Road Project. And they had particular reasons for choosing the word Ruby. “A ruby is red in colour,” says Lydia. “It signifies a red light district and also a jewel. We believe that everyone, be it a man, woman, or child is valuable. Most of the time, people don't see a person's worth.”

Which, of course, is true. There are 27 million slaves worldwide, which includes many women who have been pushed into sexual slavery. According to a 2011 United States State Department report, there are also 2 million children who have been forced into prostitution. A 2009 United Nations Report on ‘Trafficking in Persons’, based on data from 155 countries, stated that sexual trafficking generates $27.8 billion annually. 

“Sex trafficking is the ugliest man-made disaster on the globe today,” says Gary Haugen, President of the Washington-based International Justice Mission.

Amy and Lydia have a two-fold mission: to increase awareness of the worldwide sexual slavery of girls, and to put up fund-raising events so that they can give the money to small organisations who are doing the work of rescuing girls.

To aid their work, they decided to screen a documentary called ‘Nefarious – Merchant of Souls (Behind the Veil of the Sex Industry)' made by the US-based writer and director Benjamin Nolot. He travelled to 19 countries, including Cambodia, Thailand, Moldovia, Holland and Las Vegas, USA, to document the trafficking.

A Kochi screening was organised by Amy and Lydia, with the help of a NGO, ‘Raising Our Voices’.

In the 80-minute film, traffickers are shown luring young gullible girls with false promises of jobs as waitresses, models, or dancers. Soon, they are captured and brought to ‘breaking ground’ houses where the women are beaten horribly and subjected to torture. “Their bodies and spirits are broken,” says Amy. “Eventually, they become subservient to the pimps.”

‘Nefarious’ also traces how, because of a collapsing economy in Moldovia, about 10 per cent of the population was trafficked. In places like the US, women become hookers for the easy money, while in Thailand and Cambodia, it is considered okay by parents if their children partake in sexual activities with paedophiles.

In Cambodia, Amy and Lydia met the American Don Brewster and his wife, Bridget, who have set up an organisation called 'Agape International Missions', in Svay Pak village, which is near Phnom Penh. 

“In 2007, 97 per cent of the children in this area were used for prostitution,” says Amy. “It is a place where paedophiles from all over the world come to have sex with a child.” But now, thanks to Don’s efforts, it is down to 70 per cent. He has set up a prevention centre, where he provides education to the children. 

Meanwhile, in Kochi, Amy and Lydia were glad to see that the film had an impact. “Most of the people who came to the event were not aware of the extent of sex trafficking across the globe, so it was an eye-opening experience for them,” says Lydia. “We hope that this wave of awareness will spread all over the country.”

Monolita Chatterjee, a member of 'Raising Our Voices', agreed that it was an eye-opener. “It was also a hard-hitting film,” she says. Homemaker Anood Abdul Jaleel felt the documentary was shocking and enlightening at the same time. “It was a warning to us parents that we should take good care of our children,” she says. “I felt a desire to contribute to organisations which are helping these rescued girls.” 

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

A Visible Darkness

Mahesh Dattani's play, '30 Days in September', focuses on the lifelong damage of child sex abuse

By Shevlin Sebastian

Eminent playwright Mahesh Dattani's play, '30 Days in September', at the JT Pac, Kochi, begins with 26-year-old Mala Khatri, (played by Ira Dubey) staring at an empty chair, where, presumably, her counsellor would be sitting. “Today is February 29, 2004," she says. "And my name is Mala Khatri. Why not? Why shouldn't I use my real name? I want people to know. It is he who should be changing his name, not me. It is he who should be hiding. It is he who should be ashamed to show his face anywhere on this planet. I know I can only make it happen if I use my real name.”

The tone is set. This is a play about child sex abuse and the terrible lifelong damage it inflicts on those who are victims.

Thereafter, a single spotlight is fixed on a small doll placed on a chair. It has a black cap, blonde hair, a black dress and tiny shoes. And a voiceover, in Mala's tone, says, “I know it is my fault. It must have been. I must have asked for it. Maybe, I was born that way. Maybe this is what I am meant for. Sometimes, I wish that my mother had just done something.”

Shanta, Mala's mother, played by Lillette Dubey, has been abandoned by her husband years ago. So, she turns to Lord Krishna for solace and mental peace. But Mala has a seething rage towards her mother, for not doing anything about the abuse she suffered at the hands of her uncle, which is reflected in several angry scenes between the two.
 
“I am talking about all those times that he would do things to me,” says Mala. “First when I was seven, then eight, then nine. You would always be busy with your puja or the kitchen. I would go to daddy crying, and before I could tell him why I was crying he would send me to you. And without saying anything you would say I should just eat and sleep and all the pain would go away. And it did go away. But it comes back. It keeps coming back. It never goes away.”

To overcome the pain, Mala becomes promiscuous and has affairs. And she marks it on the calendar because every relationship has to end within 30 days. After that she has to move on. “They are usually older men,” says Mala. “I like it when they use me.”

Her latest boyfriend, Deepak (Joy Sengupta) is determined to hang on. He talks to Mala's counsellor, has a chat with the mother and suspects that there is something wrong with Mala. Despite that, he loves and wants to marry her.

In one stunning scene Deepak is trying to coax Mala to forget her past, while her uncle stands behind them and mouths the thoughts that are residing in Mala's subconscious mind. “Did you feel that?” says the uncle. “That means I love you. Your Mamu loves you. Don't cry. You are ready for your present for your seventh birthday. Now lie down. This is our secret. Pull your frock up over your face. Sssh... don't cry. Don't tell Mummy and Daddy. Don't stop until I tell you. You are fit only for this.”

Later, at the invitation of Shanta, the uncle stays at their house, while on an official visit to Delhi. There is a confrontation between Mala, Deepak, Shanta and the uncle. And, once more, in a heart-stopping climax, Shanta's horrific childhood abuse is revealed, done by her own brother, the uncle in Mala's life.
And a despairing Shanta shouts, “I am the one to blame. Because my tongue was cut off years ago. How could I save her, when I could not save myself? Have you seen the pain in my eyes? Nobody saw anything, not my cousins, not my brothers, not my parents.”

'30 Days in September' is a bleak but riveting play, and all the actors were up to the mark, but Lillette and Darshan Jariwala, who played the uncle, were a few notches above the youngsters. And for a lot of people in the audience, they could see, artistically and visibly, the impact of child sex abuse.

Says businesswoman Anita Goyal: “This is one play I just could not stop thinking about since the day I watched it. There is so much food for thought. So much to ponder on. So much to debate about. Although the main subject was child sex abuse, there was also the complicated relationship between mother and daughter. And the psychological help extended by the boyfriend towards his partner's woes was intertwined in the most harmonious way.”

Meanwhile, there was one amusing moment at Kochi. During one period, lightning and rain could be heard on the soundtrack. But to Lillette's visible surprise – she kept looking upwards – the rain did not stop on cue. Instead, it continued for several minutes. But it was not the sound technician's fault. It was actually raining outside: Kerala's monsoon was making its presence felt. 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

“He is Cute”

COLUMN: Spouse's Turn

Says Shahina about her husband, the stage artist and actor Nadir Shah

By Shevlin Sebastian

A few years ago, the stage show artiste and actor Nadir Shah and his wife Shahina were in Chennai. They were on their way to Kuala Lumpur because Nadir had a stage show. The others in the group included Kalabhavan Mani and his wife, actress Suchitra, comedian Kottayam Nazir, dancers, musicians, and support staff.

On the flight Shahina wore a white shirt with red stripes, and a red pant with a red belt, and red shoes. It was eye-catching. As they were walking through the duty-free section of the airport, suddenly, through a shop window, the group saw the same clothes that Shahina was dressed in. The only problem was that a chimpanzee was wearing it.

“For a few seconds everybody was frozen by the sight,” says Shahina. “Then Kalabhavan stepped forward to check whether it was the same material.”

And it was. The group burst out laughing. As for Kalabhavan, he laughed so much that he fell to the ground. “Even today I get teased about it by all those who were there,” says Shahina, with a smile.

Shahina is chirpy, vivacious and lively. And it is this quality that attracted Nadir Shah when he first went to meet her at her home in Kochi in February, 1998. “I did not come from a good financial background,” says Shahina. “And I told this openly to him. I did not want him to think that I was well off. I wanted to tell the truth. I said, ‘If you are willing to accept this, then I am willing to marry. Otherwise, we can drop it on the spot.’ This statement of mine impressed him a lot.”

Shahina also was physically attracted to Nadir Shah. “He looked cute, and had a smooth face,” she says.

Nadir Shah also liked her and the marriage took place on April 12, 1998. A week later they went to Dubai where Nadir Shah had a programme. It was also their honeymoon.

When they reached the hotel room, Shahina discovered, to her horror, that she had, absent-mindedly, given the keys of the luggage to her mother-in-law when they were leaving Kochi. When Nadir Shah realised this he immediately lost his temper. “He shouted and yelled at me,” says Shahina, with a smile. “That was when I realised that he has a quick temper.” Anyway, eventually, he broke open the locks himself.

One reason why Nadir Shah is quick to get angry is because he is a perfectionist. “It is his search for perfection that makes him lose his cool,” says Shahina. “During a stage show, there will be thousands of people in the audience and each person has his own mind. You need to keep them entertained for three hours. So, a small glitch can spoil the entire performance.”

Nevertheless, Shahina is a big fan of her husband. “From the age of 16, Nadir Shah has been looking after his large family,” says Shahina. “His father told him on his deathbed that it was his duty to look after everybody. And till today, as the eldest, he has continued to do so.”

Nadir Shah is also a man who encourages people all the time. “If he sees somebody who has a little bit of talent, he will go out of his way to provide opportunities,” says Shahina. “For most of us, our role models are our parents, but I have learnt a lot from Nadir Shah: How we should not think about ourselves all the time. How we should help others and be generous and kind.”

And he is good at fulfilling his duties in his own family. “The way he looks after us, I have never seen anybody else do it with the same intensity,” says Shahina. “I feel safe in his hands. This is not a love marriage. Yet, somehow, we are deeply in love. It is our destiny to be together. Praise God for that.”

Of course, one of the drawbacks is that Nadir Shah is away from home for weeks at a time. “Our children [Aysha, 12, and Khadeeja, 8] miss him a lot,” says Shahina. “There have been times when Aysha has gone to a corner and wept silently. Khadeeja shows her feelings through her eyes. I also miss him, like any wife anywhere in the world.”

But Shahina says that the moment he returns, all the sadness is quickly forgotten. “We enjoy being in his company,” says Shahina. “We love the togetherness.” And in order to make her husband happy, she cooks his favourite karimeen curry. In fact, she makes it the night before, so that there is the right taste.

Asked for tips for youngsters who are about to tie the knot, Shahina says, “Don't interfere too much. Space is important between husband and wife. Most husbands don't like nagging wives. You should have patience and tolerance of the negative side of a person. You should also love with all your heart and show your genuine self all the time.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

The Search for The Real India

Akram Feroze has been travelling by cycle through the states of Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu, Karnataka and Kerala for the past one-and-a-half years

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photo by Manu R. Mavelil

On March 22, 2012, Akram Feroze, 24, was cycling in a hilly area, near Diglipur, in the Andaman Islands. He rode fast, so that he could get the momentum downhill to go uphill in the next section. However, suddenly, he came across a sharp bend. “I saw it very late,” he says. Akram went straight ahead, and hit a bank of dry leaves. Unfortunately, behind it was a slope, and he went down 20 feet. “I was lucky not to be seriously injured, but the cycle was permanently damaged,” he says.

A quick-thinking Akram called up journalist Zubair Ahmed, the editor of the 'Light of Andaman' newspaper in Port Blair, 290 kms away, for help. Zubair put up a post on Facebook. D J Venkatesh, who runs a travel agency, in the area, saw the message and immediately sent a vehicle to rescue Akram.

He was taken to the nearby Community Health Centre, but was released, after receiving first aid. Realising that his cycle was beyond repair Akram posted a message on his Facebook site, 'The Cycle Natak', that his cycle was damaged. “There are many people who are following my page,” says Akram. Soon contributions came in. Some donated Rs 100, while others went as high as Rs 5,000. In the end he got Rs 25,000 and bought a brand-new GT Transeo cycle.

One-and-a-half years ago, Akram set out on an all-India tour. “I wanted to see first-hand what is there beyond the borders of my town,” says the youth, who grew up in the small town of Jagtial in Karim Nagar district in Andhra Pradesh. Not surprisingly, it took Akram two months to persuade his father, MA Shukoor, a building contractor, and his mother, Shiraz Sultana, a principal in a government school, to give permission.

And thus Akram set out, with only Rs 300 in his pocket. He has no fixed plans. When he reaches a village, he will go to the tea shop. There he will befriend the locals. “They will check out the cycle and ask me a lot of questions,” says Akram. “They want to ensure that I am not a dangerous person.”

Once he is accepted, the villagers invite him to stay. Most of the time, he goes to the houses of the poor. He remembers living with Manickam, 60, a manual scavenger, near Trichy. There was just one plastic chair in the room. “It took me an hour to convince him that he was elder to me and needed to sit on the chair, while I should sit on the floor,” says Akram.

Sadly, Akram confirms that the caste system is still going strong. “I have not seen the upper castes treating the Dalits with dignity anywhere in Tamil Nadu or Andhra Pradesh,” he says. “But in Kerala, the situation is much better.”

Interestingly, when people realise that Akram is on an all-India journey they will give him Rs 30 or Rs 50 and say that in case he is going to the Hazrat Khwaja Moinuddin Chishti Dargah at Ajmer or the Tirupati temple, he should give a donation and pray for them.

“People are quite religious,” says Akram. “In every house that I visited, there were religious symbols – pictures or idols of gods and goddesses – no matter how shattered the structure was. People live on hope, even though their lives are very difficult. Praying to God provides mental relief.”

In some villages, Akram would stay for a couple of days and then set out for the next village. He travels light: three T-shirts and a couple of tracksuits. “I have to tell you frankly that I stink most of the time,” he says. “I wash my clothes in streams and ponds, so you can imagine how clean it can be.”

Sometimes, he gets gifts out of the blue. The GoGreen GoCycling organisation saw Akram's Facebook page and couriered a T-shirt for him at Madurai with a message, 'This is a token of appreciation from us'.

As Akram travels around, he is getting a deeper understanding of India . “Poverty still exists,” he says. “The upper classes are improving rapidly, but the process is much slower for the lower castes. There are too many dropouts at the primary school level. It is going to be a huge problem for the country.”

As of now, Akram has no problems and plans to carry on, with no time limit, till his wanderlust is satiated. “I have no idea when I am going to stop,” he says, while on a brief stop-over in Kochi , on his way to the Lakshadweep islands. “I am enjoying myself enormously.” 

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

Wise, Witty, and Winsome

Pope Francis's life, as revealed through conversations, shows a man who has interesting insights about life

By Shevlin Sebastian

Pope Francis has a touch of humour. When asked whether celibacy should be abolished for priests, he says, “I once heard a priest say that, without celibacy, he would have a wife, but also a mother-in-law.”

When his mother became temporarily paralysed after giving birth to her fifth child, she would direct the children while seated on a chair in the kitchen. “Now put this in the pot and that in the pan,” she would say. As a result, Francis, the eldest child, learned to cook. So, is he good at it? “So far, no one has died,” was the impish reply.

These anecdotes are recounted in the book, ‘Pope Francis (His Life In His Own Words)' by Argentine journalists Sergio Rubin and Francesca Ambrogetti. This 2010 best-seller, published in Spanish, in Argentina, is based on a series of interviews that the Pontiff gave the journalists over a period of two years. So, it was not surprising that when Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio became Pope Francis on March 13, 2013, an English translation has been put out, aimed at the estimated worldwide audience of 1.2 billion Catholics.

Francis’ family migrated from Italy to Argentina in 1929 and his father, Mario José Bergoglio,began his career as an accountant. The family was reasonably well-off, so when Mario asked Francis, who was 13 then, to start working, he was shocked. Nevertheless, Francis joined a hosiery plant as a cleaner and the experience gave him a lifelong lesson on the importance of work.

“Work anoints a person with dignity,” says Francis. “Dignity is not conferred by one’s ancestry, family life or education. Dignity comes solely from work. We eat and support our families through work. We can own a fortune, but if we don’t work, our dignity plummets.”  

Francis speaks on an array on topics, including the qualities needed to be a good priest, the benefits of forgiveness, and the explosive subject of sexual abuse of children by priests.

“If a priest is a paedophile, then this perversion existed within him, before he was ordained,” says Francis. “Celibacy does not cure that perversion. They either have it or they don’t. Therefore, we must be very careful whom we admit into the priesthood.”

Francis has also been careful while refuting allegations that the Catholic Church, and Francis, who was head of the Jesuit order, did not do enough during the years of the military dictatorship, (1976-83), in Argentina, when thousands of people disappeared, and their bodies were never found.

“At the beginning, nothing was known,” says Francis. “As a priest I knew that something serious was happening, but I realised it was much more only later. Society, as a whole, became fully aware of events during the trial of the military commanders.”

But Jon Lee Anderson, a staff writer of the respected 'New Yorker' magazine, says, “The key allegation against Francis is that he pointed out left-leaning priests to the military, as dissidents, leaving them exposed, and that he did not defend two kidnapped clerics or ask for their release. He has denied this, and says that he protected priests and others, but, quietly, in secret.”

Gabriel Pasquini, an Argentine writer and editor, contends that Francis did not do enough. “He was not at the level required during those dramatic times,” he says.

Meanwhile, there are two surprises in the book. The foreword has been written by an Argentine rabbi, Abraham Skorka. “As far as I know, this has to be the first time in two thousand years that a rabbi has written the foreword for a book about the thoughts of a Catholic priest,” says Abraham. 

And he explains why he did it. “Some will disagree with Francis' assessments, but everyone will accept the humility and compassion with which he confronts every one of the topics,” says Abraham.

The second surprise was to know that, in the previous election, in April, 2005, in the second round Francis received an unprecedented 40 votes, and was tied with eventual winner Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI). To avoid a protracted contest, Francis stepped aside and asked that his votes be transferred to Ratzinger. However, destiny did not step aside. Instead, it beckoned him eight years later.

Pope Francis

(His Life in His Own Words)

By Sergio Rubin and Francesca Ambrogetti

Publisher: GP Putnam's Sons

Pages 265.

Price: Rs 799.

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

The Butt Of Ire and Frustration

Politicians in Kerala are at the receiving end of public dissatisfaction. A look at the reasons why

Photo: The Kerala State Assembly 

By Shevlin Sebastian

Thomas George was standing on the pavement near Subhash Park, Kochi, when he saw a procession of mourners following a coffin. While going past, in a white Ambassador car, Rajesh Kurup (name changed), the local MLA, also noticed the crowd. “He immediately asked the driver to stop,” says Thomas.

Clad in his trademark white shirt and mundu, Kurup got down, made his face look suitably sad, and joined the queue as it went down the road. After ten minutes, the crowd entered Rajendra Maidan. And it was then that Kurup got a shock: it was a film shoot that was taking place and not an actual funeral.

“That’s a Kerala politician for you,” says Thomas, with a laugh. “He will attend all funerals, including mock ones, weddings, and other ceremonies, but will rarely have any time for development work, or do something for the betterment of society.”

Agrees music composer Jerry Amaldev: “The majority of the politicians talk about doing something, but they are hardly doing anything. I have met many politicians but they have not made a positive impression on me. I come away with a sense of emptiness.”

Amaldev bemoans the poor civic facilities. “When you walk on the road, there are no footpaths, no proper drainage system, and the government hospitals are dirty,” says Amaldev. “If you give this entire state to a Singapore company, they will do a better job, and with less money also.” 

One reason for the lack of performance is that there is not enough time. “There is a change in the government every five years, so there is very little opportunity for one group to do something concrete,” says businessman Deepak Aswani, a former chairman of the Kerala Chamber of Commerce and Industry. “Plus, there are too many groups within parties, working at cross-purposes.”

There is also a lack of money. “87 per cent of the state budget goes towards salaries and other such payments,” says Aswani. “The balance 13 per cent is used for education, health and everything else. So the government has very little cash. They are dependent on central funds.”

But the biggest impediment is the polarisation of society into the Communist and Congress camps. “The public cannot think in any other terms except from the political angle,” says C. J. Chacko, the former deputy general manager of Syndicate Bank. “This has created a lot of problems for the development of the state. When one party comes to power, the other party will oppose them, because they think their role is only to oppose.”

Sometimes, this opposition comes in the form of destroying public property. “They feel that the property belongs to the ruling class,” says Chacko. “But this is not true.”

But there was a time when politicians did do something for society. “In the 1950s, the Left politicians initiated the land reform bill,” says Chacko. “Tenants became owners of the land. Then there was the Kerala Education and Kerala Agrarian Relations Bills which caused far-reaching changes.”

Art gallery owner Latha Kurien Rajeev says politicians, like the late AK Gopalan and EMS Namboodiripad, of the CPI(M), transformed Kerala society. “They made it a welfare society,” she says.

But Chacko argues that the current-day politicians also care about the people's welfare. “People like Oommen Chandy, KM Mani, and VS Achuthanandan are mass politicians and are always accessible,” he says. “They are always moving with the people.”

The good news is that when compared to politicians of other states the Kerala leaders are far better. “They are humble and approachable,” says Aswani. “In a neighbouring state, if you want to meet the chief minister you have to pay money for the privilege.”

The only problem of meeting politicians in Kerala is that there is no privacy. “They conduct everything like a sabha,” says Aswani. “All the visitors listen in to your conversation. Suppose you have a good project in mind. Obviously you will not want everybody to hear about it. But the politicians want to show that they are above corruption. What actually happens is they are not listening to you.”

Of course, there are exceptions like Finance Minister KM Mani. “Mani's grasp is amazing,” says Aswani. “And, for his age [80 plus], he is able to able to understand each and everything. He would be an ideal chief minister, but his party is small. But he could be like [former Chief Minister] Achutha Menon who belonged to a small party but ruled for a long time.”

However, one disturbing trend is the dynastic nature of politics these days: sons of leaders are groomed to become leaders. “Politics has become a lucrative profession,” says Latha. “But that should not be the case. It should be a service to the people. We have not put politicians in power so that they can make money for several generations of their family to live comfortably.”

What is adding to the problem is the absence of creditable and educated people in public life. “The intellectuals and professionals are leaving everything to the politicians, who come up through student union politics and, sometimes, from criminal backgrounds,” says Chacko. “Qualified people should come into politics and make a change.”

But that is going to be a difficult task. “Unfortunately, good people treat politics with contempt,” says Aswani. “I know of a friend of mine who was a topper in college. But the guy who was on the backbench and never came to class became a minister. The academic qualifications of most of the ministers are not good enough for them to be a MLA or a Minister.”

So, the only hope is of the young taking to politics. But when Latha tells her 15-year-old son, Mrinal, that when he grows up, he should be a politician, the boy is shocked. “Amma, are you crazy?” he says. “Who wants to be a politician?”

Latha's reply is idealistic: “Mrinal, if young people like you don't go into politics and save our country, there will be nothing left for your children.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Easy Pickings

Shops in malls constantly face the threat of theft from professional thieves and amateurs

By Shevlin Sebastian

During a crowded weekend, an employee of Graffiti Clothing at the Oberon Mall, Kochi, just about managed to see a 35-year-old woman slip in a folded silk garment into her own saree. He confronted her. She denied it. A group of salesgirls discreetly took her to the store room. On a closer inspection, it was discovered that she was wearing a pyjama under her saree. There were other items from neighbouring shops.

As they were deciding on whether to call the police, there was a call on the landline. “The associates of the thief said that a woman had come into the shop and has gone missing, so they would have to call the police,” says Aftab Kareem, the owner of Graffiti. “It was a smart move. They could easily charge us for sexual harassment. So we let the woman go.”

These are professional thieves, who go from shop to shop, in the malls, especially on weekends and festive seasons to steal goods. Most of the time they get away, and even if they are caught, the danger of the woman accusing the male staff of sexual harassment is ever present. “But now I have made it mandatory that only female employees should deal with woman thieves,” says Aftab.

The thieves are smart. “Whenever we replay the tape of the surveillance cameras, their faces cannot be seen,” says Aftab. “They know their precise location. So they stand looking away.”

Apart from these skillful robbers, there are amateur thieves, in the 18-30 year age group. “They do it because they think, ‘Why pay for it when I can get it for free?’” says Aftab. “Boys will take a couple of shirts and go inside the trial room. They will put the new shirt on and over it, they will wear their original shirt. And then they will walk out.”

But some have unlucky experiences. One young man put a new shirt, and forgot that his own shirt was a see-through. The store manager was at the billing counter. The salesman whispered to him about the hidden shirt.

The manager gestured to him, and when the youth arrived at the counter, he said, “Are you through?”

He said, “Yes.”

“I am making out a bill for you,” said the manager.

“For what?” the man said.

“For what you are wearing under your shirt,” said the manager.

The youth quietly paid the money and went away.

“Our aim was not to humiliate him in public,” says Aftab. “He was not a career thief. He was someone who was taking a chance.”

Meanwhile, what has amazed Aparna Menon, the owner of a shoe and apparel shop, was how young the thieves can be. “Rajesh was only 11 years old,” she says. “He used to come to the store regularly and pick up stuff with his parents.”

Since he lived near the mall, he would come alone sometimes. “He was very friendly with the staff,” says Aparna. “But the moment other customers came and the staff would get busy, he would put caps and balls in a bag and quietly walk away. When we tracked the movements on the close-circuit TV we understood what he was doing.”

The video was shown to the affluent parents, who were, understandably, shocked. “Rajesh's father literally cried in front of the sales staff,” says Aparna. “I think it was a thrill for Rajesh. He does not need all these things. He already has enough.”

Aparna says that most of the thefts in her shop has been done by youngsters. “We don't complain to the police, as we do not want to spoil their lives,” she says. “We will warn the boy and ask him to buy the product. Even if he does not want it, he has to take it. That is the punishment.”

Young women try a bit of thieving, also. “They tend to steal cosmetics or ladies accessories,” says MT Raghu, a store manager in a shop at a mall, near Vytilla. “They will put the products in their handbags. When the anti-theft tag gives a beep, while they are passing through the exit, we will just ask them to pay for it. Then we make them write a confession letter stating that they had taken this. All this will be done quietly.”

But the most astonishing theft in Raghu's store was when a 25-year-old youth coolly placed a 14” LCD, costing Rs 15,000, under his large jacket and walked away. “Nobody noticed anything,” says Raghu. “The theft was discovered days later when we replayed the surveillance tape.”

In most shops, there are about three to five thefts or attempted ones every month. And they can be divided into three types: internal, external and break-ins. “The last one is rare,” says Raghu. “About 80 per cent of the thefts are done by customers. But what we fear the most are internal thefts.”

That is when an employee colludes with an outsider. “He will ask the friends to come and do shopping,” says Raghu. “At the counter, he can remove the magnetic anti-theft tag, and pass the clothes without doing the billing. Or he will put a Rs 200 tag for a Rs 1500 jeans.” To avoid this, the store does a background check on the tellers, and places surveillance cameras at the cash counters.

What has made things difficult for the retailers is that thieves have found their way around the anti-theft tags. “They will use a blade to take it off,” says Aftab. “Since it is a magnetic tag, there is something called a magnetic detacher, which costs Rs 2000. The professional thieves use this.”

Most retailers in the malls accept that such thefts take place all the time. Says Aparna, “The annual industry loss is 5 per cent of the stock. It becomes worrying when it goes above that.”

As for any solutions to this menace, Aftab says, “Unless all retailers get together and ensure that the photographs of the thieves are displayed prominently outside every mall, this will not stop. A strong body, headed by a retired police officer, should ensure that the thieves are locked up for a long time.” 

(Some names have been changed)

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)