On the divine path

Monk Sadhviji Sayampurna Shriji, who will be spending the next four months at the Jain Temple at Mattancherry, talks about her life

Pics by Jayant Pithadia

By Shevlin Sebastian 

On the street of Mattancherry, youths in scooters hold aloft a banner welcoming the Jain monk Sadhviji Sayampurna Shriji to Kochi. A few youngsters are banging on drums and cymbals. The scooter-borne youths are followed by men, of varying ages, wearing a scarf across their shoulders. A few are waving the Jainism flag, which has five colours: red, yellow, white, green and blue. 

The procession stops. A few girls, wearing white salwar kameez, do the Maharashtrian folk dance called lezim. A band provides the music. Suddenly, somebody shouts, “Chalo” (let’s go) and the procession resumes. 

All this is part of the welcome ceremony called Chaturmas Pravesh, on July 11, for Sadhvivarya. The monk has come for a four-month stay at the Jain Temple. During the monsoon season, monks and sadhvis all over India don’t travel as numerous insects come out at that time. So, to uphold ahimsa -- not to cause harm to even the tiniest living being -- they remain at one place.  

The Sadhvivarya, accompanied by two disciples, was coming from Pondicherry. Over several months, they walked, because they are not allowed to use any vehicle. They also avoided footwear because they did not want to harm any living being. On the way, they stopped at numerous Jain temples, ashrams and schools, for several days at a time, giving talks, doing meditation, and advising people of other faiths, too. On an average, they walked about 10-12 kms a day. “We usually started at 5.30 a.m, and by 8 a.m., we would stop for the day,” says Sadhvivarya. “Thus, we did not get tired.” 

When Sadhvivarya entered the spacious temple at Mattancherry, very soon, she felt very happy. “The vibrations are very good,” she says. “The temple is very spacious too.” 

Sadhvivarya quickly settled into her daily routine. The trio gets up at 3.30 a.m. and does prayers, meditation and devotion to the Tirthankaras (Jain gods). Because they do not cook food or are not allowed to eat food prepared specially for them, around 48 minutes after sunrise, they visit the different Jain houses in the area to receive vegetarian food. This practice is called goachari.  

“From each house, we take little so that the family members do not have to cook again,” says Sadhvivarya. “We go to a few houses to get enough food. Then we bring it back to the temple.” 

There is a prayer over the food before they sit down to eat. At 8.30 a.m., for one hour, Sadhvivarya gives a talk (pravachan) to devotees. The subjects include the grace of the divine, how to connect with the Almighty, the uniqueness of karma, and how to live peacefully, balancing the spiritual and the practical. 

Throughout the day, Sadhvivarya does meditations, prayers and rituals. In the afternoon, she gives another talk, followed by a public prayer in the evening. Sadhvivarya has gone all over India inspiring and motivating people. 

And it seems she was destined for this work. Right from her childhood, she wanted to become a monk. This feeling strengthened when she met her guru, Acharya Bhadraguptasurishwarji MS. “I used to read his books on Jainism when I was in Class 8,” she says. “Once he had come to Ooty for a month’s stay.”

The sadhvi, the daughter of a businessman, who is from Rajasthan, grew up in the hill station. She did her schooling from Nazareth Convent High School, her Class 11 and 12 from Girl Memorial College and her BA in English literature from Emerald Heights College for Women. It was during this time, she broached the idea to be a monk. Expectedly, the family opposed to the idea. “My mother felt that I was too delicate and sensitive to walk on this path,” says Sadhvivarya. “My father and elder brother were very attached to me. They said, ‘No, no, we will get you married’.”

But Sadhvivarya prevailed. She says, “I had no doubts because it was an inner calling.” And Sadhvivarya took her diksha (renunciation ceremony) at Dholka, 48 kms from Ahmedabad on January 25, 1998. The congregation consisted of sadhus, sadhvis, shravaks and shravikas (Jain laymen and women). 

“It lasted two hours,” she says. “There was one shravak from Mumbai who took diksha along with me.”  

It was after her renunciation that Sadhvivarya went for further studies. Eventually, she did her PhD from the Jain Vishwa Bharati Institute (a deemed university) at Ladnun, Rajasthan. “My thesis, ‘The Concept of Divinity’ was based on a work, ‘Vitaraga Stotra’ by [Jain scholar] Acharya Hemachandra, which defined the divine qualities of the Tirthankaras,” says Sadhvivarya. “I also did a comparison of Jainism and other religions.” 

Asked whether it is a difficult life, she says, “My life is tranquil, beautiful, serene, and I am on the precious path of merging with the divine,” she says. And her parents are also happy. “During Chaturmas Pravesh, they usually come to visit me,” says Sadhvivarya. “So, they will be coming to Mattancherry soon.”   

Box

The five vows of a sadhvi are: 

Ahimsa Mahavrat: Vow of absolute non-violence

Satya Mahavrat: Vow of absolute truthfulness

Asteya or achaurya mahavrat: Vow of absolute non-stealing

Brahmacharya Mahavrat: Vow of absolute celibacy 

Aparigraha Mahavrat: Vow of absolute non-attachment  

(Published in The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

When a run-down government school became top class

A recent University of Glasgow report focused on the philanthropic work done by the Faizal and Shabana Foundation at the Government Vocational Higher Secondary School for Girls at Nadakkavu, Kozhikode

Pics: Faizal E Kottikollan and his wife Shabana; the entrance to the school  

By Shevlin Sebastian 

At 5.30 a.m., business magnate Faizal E Kottikollan heads to the beach at Kozhikode. He likes to see the roaring waves, as he goes about doing stretching exercises and embarks on a jog. The steady wind also relaxes him and clears his mind, as he plans for the day ahead. After an hour-and-a-half, he returns, but always stops at the Government Vocational Higher Secondary School for Girls at Nadakkavu. 

On a recent morning, when he stopped at the gate, a group of women were standing there. They rushed towards him and said, “Mr Faisal, where is [your wife] Shabana Maam?” He told them his wife was in Dubai. Then one of them said, “We just wanted to thank you for what you have done to this school. Every day we walk on the ground and pray for you.” 

Unusually, the school is open for outsiders. People can come and use the grounds till 8 a.m. “Almost 70 to 100 women come every day because the school is for the benefit of society too,” says Faizal. “Some go for a walk. A few have yoga sessions.” 

The school has become famous all over Kerala, thanks to the extraordinary infrastructural as well as the holistic development of the students. This was funded by the Faizal and Shabana Foundation. With the help of MLA Pradeep Kumar, the organisation spent a whopping Rs 20 crore on this one school.  

This happened five years ago. But the 126-year-old school sprang back into the limelight in March when the University of Strathclyde, Glasgow published a glowing case study recently called ‘Faizal and Shabana Foundation: A Venture Philanthropic Approach to Education’. 

On a cloudless July morning, as one walked in, there was a pergola in front which has leaves entwined around the wooden feel pillars and going all the way to the roof. To the left and the right are green plants. 

In the atrium of the main building, there is a striking mural painting on the wall, going all the way to the first floor, of a tree with numerous leaves and thick roots. “This is known as the ‘Tree of Knowledge’,” says Shabana Faizal. “Every leaf represents a child and it is like a mother tree.”  

Interestingly, while climbing up the stairs to go to the first floor, the windows are at a lower height. “This was done deliberately,” says Shabana. “This was made at the height of small children so that they can look out and see the trees.” 

The classrooms are airy and bright and painted in soft colours of beige, yellow and mauve. There are large chemistry and biology labs. “Some university students told us it is bigger than the ones found in their college,” says Dr Joseph Sebastian, Director-Faizal and Shabana Foundation. And the indoor recreation area, with a high roof, is astounding. Painted in a deep blue, you can play volleyball, basketball or badminton. 

At one side, there is a space where weight-lifting and stretching exercises can be done. There are drawings of sportspeople running, swimming and jumping on the walls. High wire-mesh windows ensure that there is good air circulation. “Can you imagine this is a government school?” says Joseph. 

The mess is also large, with tables and plastic chairs to seat 1200 students. Canteen manager Unnikrishnan says, “Before the makeover, the canteen was so small that only three or four teachers were able to sit inside. The students had their lunches on their desks.”   

At one side, there is an all-weather astroturf. This was brought from New Zealand at a cost of Rs 1 crore. “Faizal said there should be no compromise when it came to quality,” says Shabana.  

The change in the mindset of the students has been profound. “I feel proud to say that I am studying at Nadakkavu,” says Reena Das, a Class eight student. “Earlier, when I would leave for school my mother wouldn’t even say bye. Now, she comes to the door every time. In the buses, we are also treated with respect because we have been provided with very good uniforms.” 

At his plush air-conditioned office, Faizal smiles when he hears this. “The Nadakkavu school has sparked a revolution,” he says. Then he opens a New Indian Express newspaper and points at a June 26, 2019 headline. It says: ‘Development work on 36 schools nearing completion’. “They are all following our model,” he says. 

Today, in Kerala, there are 141 government schools similar to the one in Nadakkavu. “We also did it in a school in Tamil Nadu,” says Shabana. “The Delhi government came to see our model and are implementing it.” Celebrities who came to see it first-hand included music composer AR Rahman, former cricketer Brett Lee, former footballer Ronaldinho and Mollywood actress Manju Warrier.     

A hugely successful businessman in the Gulf Faizal sold his standalone valve casting foundry, one among the top three in the world, in 2012, to American business company Tyco for a cool $400 million. 

“Shabana and I thought that we should make a difference with this money,” says the 54-year-old. “People with the correct attitude and intentions can do that. Earlier, businessmen thought about society and its social requirements. Nowadays, they only think about themselves. That is the difference between the old and the new school. And I am happy to say I belong to the old school.” 

He also understands the importance of education. “Education was the main driver in our family,” he says. “Thanks to my parents, we are an educated Muslim family which was not that common at that time. I have three masters in total: engineering, MBA in finance and marketing, and industrial engineering, the last two of which I got from the United States. I worked in the US, travelled the world and seen how it functions. And I realised that without education it is very difficult to do well in life.” 

He also feels India is sitting on a powder keg. “It can explode at any time,” says Faizal. “The difference between the rich and the poor is so huge. Out of a population of 1.3 billion people, 600 million people find it difficult to make ends meet. The only way we can change that is through education. Today, there are 1.2 million government schools across the country. How many people go to private school? It is less than 10 per cent. The vast majority are government or government-aided schools. The poorest of the poor only go to these schools. And these have to be improved drastically. It needs government help but it should not be the government’s problem alone. Private people should contribute. People with money should contribute. People with knowledge should contribute.” 

And Faizal has made a difference. Today 3 lakh students in Kerala have been changed. “You can calculate it,” says Faizal. “141 schools have been changed and there is an average of 2500 in each school.”  

Incidentally, the corpus fund of the foundation stands at Rs 140 crore.

(An edited version was published in Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi) 

Cool, comfortable and cosy

The Bumpadum cloth diapers for babies can be reused between 100 and 150 times. It has many takers in Kochi

By Shevlin Sebastian 

When the Kochi-based working mom Aarohi Sharma opened the Aviva Organic Cotton Diaper, her eyes bulged in pleasure. On the back of the pink diaper, there were drawings of a preening goat, a cactus plant, snails, leaves, tiny hearts, and a sunflower. Another diaper had red buttons all over it, a tree with leafy branches, an upside-down teacup, a house, a fish and small leaves. “It was so beautiful to look at,” she says.  

These diapers have been brought out by the Bumpadum company, which is based in Bengaluru. A friend told Aarohi about it. And she is a very satisfied customer. “The diapers are super-trim,” she says. “I have a 13-month son. With boys, you have to make them wear shorts or trousers. Unlike disposable diapers, since Aviva is slim, I can use it beneath my son’s shorts.” 

Aarohi is also happy with the absorption. “When I use it at night, my son sleeps right through,” she says. “Since organic cotton is used, again, unlike disposable diapers, my son has never suffered a rash.” 

Bumpadum founder Anuradha Rao smiles when she hears this. The company will complete three years on July 30. She said she got interested in cloth diapers when she was using disposable diapers for her daughter Meera who was born five years ago. “I learnt that when diapers reach a landfill it will not decompose for 500 years,” she says. Anuradha also discovered that she was using between 8 to 10 diapers a day. These cost anywhere between Rs 10 to Rs 15 per piece. “Over a three-year period parents end up spending Rs 50,000 to Rs 70,000 on diapers only,” she says. 

So, she decided to make a re-usable cloth diaper. “It is not a new concept,” she says. “For generations parents had been using cloth diapers. But they were not waterproof and did not keep the baby dry. So I wanted to marry the convenience of a disposable diaper with that of a diaper that is available in cloth. Hence, it can be washed and reused.”

Bumpadum is using a fabric called hemp which is the most absorbent natural fabric anywhere in the world. “We import it just to make these diapers,” says Anuradha. “It has great absorbency without making it too bulky. The outer layer is laminated with a 20-micron layer of polyurethane. That provides the water-proofing. It is a breathable fabric which allows air to pass through. But it does not allow water to pass through. That way, the baby will not feel hot and sweaty.”

There is also a special fabric on top called microfleece and it becomes dry soon after it becomes wet. “After the baby passes urine, if you touch the fabric after six to seven seconds you will not feel any wetness,” says Anuradha.  

As for the price, it ranges from Rs 699 to Rs 899, depending on the size and the features. “The diapers can be reused between 100 and 150 times,” says Anuradha. “So, if you buy 15 diapers, it will last three years and you only spend Rs 20,000. The initial investment is high but once parents make it, they don’t have to worry about buying diapers again.” 

Business is booming. They sell through retail outlets in Bengaluru. And Bumpadum is selling its products online. “In Kochi itself, we have about 250 customers,” says Anuradha.

As mothers bought the diapers and felt happy with it, they kept asking Anuradha whether she could make similar menstrual pads. “That’s how the idea for Bhoomi came up,” she says. 

The normal disposal sanitary napkins that you get is not breathable and very sweaty, and made of plastic. “Our pads are made of cloth,” says Anuradha. “They are water-proof and extremely comfortable to wear.”  

The price ranges from Rs 200 to Rs 300 per pad depending on size. “This can be reused 60 to 70 times at the very least,” says Anuradha. “Again, our customers told us that they are very happy with this product.” 

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

Talking to the unconscious mind

Hypnotists Freddy and Anthony Jacquin talk about ways to cure ailments and mental blocks through the use of hypnosis, while on a recent visit to Kochi 

 

By Shevlin Sebastian

 

When the 50-year-old Deborah Plumb sat down in the consulting room of the London-based hypnotist Freddy Jacquin, she grimaced in pain. Deborah told Freddy that she suffered from a disease called fibromyalgia. “It means your body becomes incredibly sensitive and painful,” says Freddy, while on a recent visit to Kochi, with his son Anthony. “You can't move. It's agony. Everything is pain. Deborah had this disease for 14 years. Her doctor told her that she wouldn't die from the disease, but she would die with this disease. In other words, she would have it forever.”

 

To counter the pain Deborah was having 28 painkillers a day. 

 

Freddy said, “Do want to be free of the pain?” 

 

Deborah said, “Of course I do, but the doctor told me I am going to die with it.” 

 

Freddy nodded and said, “I am going to make you free.” 

 

He then hypnotised Deborah and then spoke directly to the subconscious mind, asking it to cure the disease. Amazingly, when Deborah got up from her spell, she found that she was pain-free. And remains so three years later. 

Asked the logic of Deborah’s transformation, Freddy says, “All patterns of behaviour are learned, but they end up running automatically. So hypnosis is a way of bypassing the conscious mind and instructing the subconscious. It's not a logical process. You make changes at the subconscious mind. When that happens, the change is often natural.” 

 

Anthony gives an example of what he tells the subconscious mind of smokers. “I will tell it you will no longer experience thoughts or cravings about it. I tell the subconscious to change its beliefs,” he says. “I have cured smoking in just one 90-minute session several times.” 

 

Anthony and Freddy together have seen over 35,000 clients, who have approached them with a varying range of problems. “These include drug addiction, alcoholism, biting nails, scratching the body, pulling hair, and irrational fears,” says Anthony. “Sometimes the fear is a general anxiety, sometimes it's a panic attack. Like Deborah, there are many people who want to overcome chronic pain.” 

 

And there are clients who want to achieve something, “So, they want to change their mental beliefs, get in touch with their inner resources, and also learn how to use these tools themselves,” says Anthony. “In other words, they want to do self-hypnosis.” 

 

To help these people, Anthony has published a book called ‘Reality is Plastic: The Art of Impromptu Hypnosis’ while Freddy has written ‘Hypnotherapy: Methods, Techniques & Philosophies’, both of which are available on Amazon.  

As for the difference between the conscious and unconscious mind, Freddy says, “We feel we are running the show, with our conscious mind. But that’s not the case. For example, while your conscious mind is thinking of what clothes to wear, the unconscious mind is taking care of your blood pressure, body temperature, digestion, blood flow, heartbeat, and making sure your survival is running automatically. You are not aware of every activity that's going on in your system. The conscious mind is a very small part of who you are.” 

 

As to the question, ‘Who am I’, whether a person is the conscious mind only, Anthony smiles and says, “This is a question that philosophers have been trying to answer for thousands of years, including the Indian philosopher Adi Shankara, whose birthplace I saw in Kalady a few days ago. My guess is we each have an observer which can view the conscious and subconscious mind, but not all can arrive at this higher state. This can be achieved through meditation and other similar methods. Mostly, people are closely aligned with the conscious mind and think that this is the ‘I’.”   

 

Meanwhile, at Kochi, for his show, ‘Insomnia Extended’, along with mentalist Aathi, in front of a sell-out audience at the JT Pac, Anthony tried past-life regression, for the first time, with a group of participants from the audience. One young man, Jaison George (name changed), after being hypnotised, tells Anthony, “I am inside a pyramid.” 

 

“How long ago is this?” says Anthony. 

 

“3000 years,” Jaison says. “I am carrying a case which the Queen has told me to put into another room.” 

 

Jaison pauses, as he seems to look deep into his imagination. 

 

“And?” says Anthony. 

 

“And the Queen is unhappy with me,” says Jaison. “She does not trust me.” 

 

After another pause, Jaison says, “She says I will be put to death.” 

 

The audience gasps in shock and amazement, while Freddy, who is sitting in the second row, claps in appreciation. Anthony makes the participants sing and dance, laugh hysterically and even cry. It was an amazing show, put up by a thorough professional. Says MC Roy, director of JT Pac, “This was one of the best shows ever staged at our centre.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi)

Alluring, mysterious and beautiful

The Thiruvananthapuram-based entrepreneur Naufar Jaleel went on a 19,000 km journey through several states in India on a modified auto-rickshaw 

By Shevlin Sebastian 

On the Chhattisgarh border, Naufar Jaleel’s heart was palpitating. People had told him that there was militant activity very near the border. He looked at his watch. It was 6 p.m. He knew the sun would set by 7 p.m. That left him with one hour to reach a town. The national highway stretched in front of him in a straight line. But the road was untarred; instead, it had a brown surface with lots of gravel on it. 

So he got into his ‘Qalifa’, the name of his modified auto-rickshaw, a TVS King 4S, which had an LPG cylinder at the back. 

Soon, Naufar was going a steady pace of 50 kms/hour. He felt good. Soon, he entered a forest. The weather cooled. And then the unexpected happened. The road dipped suddenly and came to an end. Naufar fell into a large pit and his steering jerked to one side. Somehow, he managed to restart and moved forward slowly. He couldn’t believe this was a national highway. The forest gave way to a large open area. Thereafter, he came across a checkpoint manned by the Central Reserve Railway Force, just next to their camp.    

He showed his Aaadhar card and other documents. They smiled and realised he was a genuine traveller. Naufar then asked whether he could stop for the night in the open area. 

“No problems,” said one of the men. “But, sometimes, there is shooting from the other side and we shoot back. So, if you don’t mind being caught in the crossfire, you are welcome to stay here.” 

Naufar took the hint and moved on…

Naufar had set out from Thiruvananthapuram on September 11, 2018 (“Yes, the famous 9/11 date,” he says, about the Al Qaeda attack on the World Trade Centre in New York) for an all-India trip on his auto-rickshaw. It was fully enclosed and inside he had a seat which could be converted into a vertical bed, with his head almost resting on the steering wheel.  

And as he journeyed from the South, through familiar places like Chennai, Bangalore, Hyderabad and Kolkata, he began to move into the North-East. Soon, he began to get hypnotised. “The North-East is an amazing place,” he says. “The culture, landscape, people, and food are so different.” 

In fact, he tried different types of food: dogmeat, beetles, silkworms and leeches. “I can’t say I am a fan,” he says, with a smile. 

In a bit of a surprise, he observed that Malayalis are respected a lot. “That’s because most of the senior government employees are from Kerala,” says Naufar. “They were all part of a migration to the North-East during the 1970s and 80s. And many locals studied under Malayali teachers whom they loved and cherished.” 

The sights were interesting too: living root bridges in Nongriat, Meghalaya, Emma Keithel (a women’s only market) in Imphal and Aizawl, the beautiful capital of Mizoram. “I also attended the Papum Poma river festival in Arunachal Pradesh and the Hornbill festival in Nagaland,” says the 29-year-old.  

Thereafter, Naufar went all over North India: Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, Haryana and Himachal Pradesh. “Each state is like a country,” he says. “Sometimes, in each state, there are different cultures. In UP, Varanasi is so different from Allahabad and Lucknow.” 

This is not the first tourist trip that Naufar was doing. During his three-year stint at a company in Sydney, he had backpacked across Australia, New Zealand and South-East Asia. “And I can tell you categorically that India is one of the safest places to travel in,” he says. “The people are kind, friendly and helpful.”   

Many people invited him to their homes, to have food and rest for the night. “There is something about an autorickshaw,” he says. “Most have travelled in one. So they felt an affinity towards the vehicle, and for me, too.” He also ended up staying in temples, mosques, churches, gurudwaras and schools.  

Sometimes when Naufar would go past picturesque rivers and waterfalls, he would stop and have a bath. “I would wash my clothes and put it on a rock,” he says. “It would dry within an hour, as the rock retains heat for a long time.” 

Not surprisingly, Naufar experienced a wide range of weather. In Himachal and Sikkim, it was -2 or 3 degrees Celsius. He wore thermal clothes and used thermal sleeping bags. “Despite that, on New Year’s Eve, in Shillong, I was shivering,” he says.   

Then in Madhya Pradesh, the temperature hit 45 degrees Celsius. At a petrol bunk, the attendants asked Naufar whether he had any cold water. “All their water had heated up,” he says. “When water is inside a plastic bottle, the plastic melts, so the water tastes bad.” Naufar got the message. He quickly bought a mud pot and placed it inside his vehicle.  

Throughout his journey, Naufar received free servicing and maintenance from TVS service centres all over the country. And, as a member of the Rotary Club of Kazhakootam, he also visited many clubs to raise funds for the victims of the Kerala floods of 2018. 

On April 28, Naufar returned home, after a journey of 19,000 kms, which lasted 232 days. “I have been infected by wanderlust,” he says, with a smile. “So, after a few months, I will set off again.” But this time, he will be accompanied by his partner Azzu, 22, whom he will be marrying soon. 

(An edited version was published in The Sunday Magazine, New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)

Killing an ant and other such moments

By Shevlin Sebastian 

The other day I killed an ant which was hovering near a bottle of honey in the kitchen at my home in Kochi. As I stared at the dead insect, an unexpected series of thoughts arose in me. ‘Some ant must be waiting for him to come back. Could be his ‘queen’ mate. And the children, too. They would be worried as the hours passed. Did any other ant see what I did? And rush to inform the ant colony. How did the colony mourn when the body was not there.’ Unceremoniously, I had blown the ant towards the washbasin and turned on the tap. It went to a watery grave. 

This particular colony must have cursed me, even as they shed tears. Death can be so random for ants, especially when they are wandering inside houses. On that morning, his queen mate could have told him, “I am not feeling good that you are going hunting for food in houses. Why not a garden or a park?” 

He would have consoled her, and said, “Don’t worry, I will be careful.” But unfortunately, he ran out of luck. 

There was a cockroach who would always stay inside a drawer which contained glasses and plates. But it was always cautious. Whenever I pulled opened the drawer, he would not be seen anywhere. But, one day, by accident, its guard was down and it came out in the open when I was there. I took a duster and hit hard. It looked shocked as it lay on its back, its legs punching away, like as if it was riding a bicycle, as the life force ebbed away. However, I could not escape a feeling of guilt and sorrow.

Once when I was travelling from the coastal town of Mararikulam to Kochi, in a cab, a cockroach was roaming behind the front seat of the driver. A woman colleague, who was with me, let out a scream, shook her hands, as if saying, ‘go away’, and raised her legs on to the seat. The shaken driver stopped the car immediately, came to the back and managed to flick the cockroach outside, without killing it. 

Now imagine the mental state of this cockroach. Thrown out on a busy highway, without any GPS, far away from home, what was he going to do now? Would he able to locate a colony of cockroaches nearby? Or was he going to wander around, feeling helpless and fearful? The terrain was new and strange. Dangers could lurk anywhere. 

I believe now, for peace of mind, we should follow the Jainism tenet of ahimsa: ‘Do not injure, abuse, oppress, enslave, insult, torment, torture or kill any creature or living being.’ 

(Published as a middle in The New Indian Express, South Indian editions)

Spreading the love

International faculty Prasanth S Nair, a Trustee of the Art of Living Foundation, talks about his experiences with devotees abroad

Pics: Prasanth S Nair; Sri Sri Ravi Shankar with the ruler of Fujairah, Hamad bin Mohammed Al Sharqi. Prasanth is on the right, second row 

By Shevlin Sebastian 

On a cold and wintry day in January, a few years ago, Art of Living teacher Prasanth S Nair watched as the plane taxied to a halt at Moscow’s Sheremetyevo International Airport. He looked out of the window and shivered a bit. The entire airport was blanketed with snow. There was hardly anybody around except for several Aeroflot planes which had a sprinkling of snow on the roofs.  

“The first impression I got was that this was similar to the [science fiction] comics of ‘Flash Gordon’ when he and his compatriots would go on a space journey,” says Prasanth. “The cold also seemed to add to the familiar stereotype that Russians could be cold in terms of their emotions.”  

But that belief lasted only for a few minutes. When Prasanth entered the hall, he was greeted by several smiling Russians. “I was blown away by their warmth,” he says. 

Prasanth was in a white kurta and dhoti but wore a thermal vest underneath. “But when they saw the way I was dressed, they were shocked,” he says. “You can’t blame them for being worried. The temperature was -19 degrees Celsius.” 

On the third day, they secretly took a measurement of his sandals and bought ankle-length boots. “Because they hid my sandals, I had to wear the boots,” he says. “Thank God for that. They also insisted that I should wear gloves, especially when we went for walks.” 

Asked how Muscovites came to know about Art of Living, Prasanth says, “Through word of mouth. Also, Gurudev (Sri Sri Ravi Shankar) has travelled to Russia and so many other places many times in the past. Later, senior teachers from India went to Russia in the early 1990s. Today,  there are more than 1300 teachers, mostly local, in Russia.”

 

Prasanth has also spent time in Indonesia, which is an Islamic nation. “Nevertheless, we were welcomed warmly,” he says. “And in Bali, we had many centres.” 

Bali has a strong Hindu influence, so the people could relate easily to the teachings of Sri Sri. “Again the devotees were a mix of locals, and people from America, Australia, New Zealand and India, too. The devotees increase manyfold whenever Gurudev 

conducts his annual meditation retreats and discourses on the Vignan Bhairav (the science of consciousness).” 

Many have been transformed after attending the programme. In Jakarta, Prasanth met a 6’ 1” tall South African named Robert Brown. He told Prasanth, “I used to drink like a fish and pick up fights regularly. But now, thanks to regular meditation, my mind is at peace and I can walk away from fights. I have also stopped drinking altogether.” 

Prasanth also met a young Arab woman from the United Arab Emirates (UAE) who told him that she had a dream in which she saw a person, dressed in white, who had a black beard and long hair. “She didn’t give much attention to it but was astonished when she saw the same face while she was participating in an Art of Living happiness programme and realised that it was Gurudev,” says Prasanth.  

As for Prasanth’s high point in his travels in West Asia, the Far East, and Europe, it was when he accompanied Sri Sri on the latter’s first-ever visit to the UAE on November 14, 2018. The spiritual leader had been specially invited by the ruler of Fujairah, Hamad bin Mohammed Al Sharqi. The next day, there was a programme at the Fujairah Football Club Stadium, where thousands were in attendance. The Crown Prince Sheikh Mohammed bin Hamad bin Mohammed Al Sharqi, in his welcome address, said, “We gather today on this wonderful occasion of tolerance blessed by our master of love.” 

In response, Sri Sri said, “We are all members of one global family.” 

Soon, there was a mass meditation led by Sri Sri, and many members of the royal family took part. 

For Prasanth it was a wonderful experience. “The respectful way Gurudev was received, the warmth that was shown, and their ready acceptance is something I will never forget,” he says. “The UAE has a Ministry of Tolerance, as well as a Ministry of Happiness. This idea should be adopted by all governments in the world.”       

Asked what is common among the devotees in different countries, Prasanth says, “People are looking for happiness, a calm and peaceful mind, good health, a sense of fulfilment, an inner yearning for wisdom, and to attain something great, in terms of their spirituality. These are the aspirations across all communities and people, including myself.” 

The Pala-born Prasanth, an MBA graduate, was in the corporate world before he met Sri Sri, and became a full-time teacher. The former-director of the Sri Sri Ayurveda College Prasanth was instrumental in setting up the world-class facility of Sri Sri Panchakarma, both of which are in Bengaluru. He has served as secretary to Sri Sri. Today, his wife Meera is the international secretary to Sri Sri. 

As for his future plans, Prasanth says, “Through the teachings of Gurudev, I want to make a difference in the lives of people.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

Law Breakers

US-based academician Dr Amy Ritterbusch, who was in Kochi recently, says the worst forms of oppression in any society are meted out by the police

Photos: Dr Amy Ritterbusch; transgenders in Colombia

By Shevlin Sebastian  

It is night in Bogota, Colombia. Marianna is standing on a sidewalk looking at the drivers of the cars as they drive past. She is dressed in a short mini skirt and high heels with mascara on her cheeks and red lipstick. Marianna is a trans sex worker. As she stands with a few others, a police van comes up silently. She is quickly bundled in, along with the others. They sit silently, as the van drives away, fear creating a firestorm in their hearts. 

At the outskirts of the city, the transgenders are told to get down. At the point of a gun, all their clothes are removed, despite their resistance. “Then they are told to run into a dark forest,” says Dr Amy Ritterbusch, Assistant Professor of Social Welfare at the Luskin School of Public Affairs, University of California, Los Angeles. “Soon, the police start shooting at the girls. And these transgenders have to run for their lives, falling and hurting themselves and hoping they are not killed.” 

Later, they had to find their way back, towards the city, using leaves and branches to cover their bodies. “So that's one example of police brutality,” says Amy, who is of Colombian origin. “There are homeless individuals, children and adolescents who use drugs and drug users in general, who are just murdered by the police and their bodies dumped far away. Another way to describe this is ‘state-sanctioned social cleansing’. They are getting rid of individuals who are ‘unwanted’ with the help of unofficial death squads.” 

Amy had come to Kochi, at the invitation of the Rajagiri College of Social Sciences to interact with students and to give a talk on police violence at the International Summer University in Social Work. At the campus when you look out of the window, you can see green lawns and blue skies, and students milling about, talking in a peaceful and animated manner. 

And Amy also likes what she sees. “Kochi is serene,” she says. “The people are so generous and hospitable and the food is delicious. There is a beautiful peace here. In Colombia, because I am working on so many difficult issues I feel sad and full of rage.” 

Soon, she continues her grim tale. At a particular area in Bogota, there was a police raid and they arrested several drug addicts. They were later thrown into a large canal nearby. The canal was located below a public transportation system. So when the system closed for the night, and there were no witnesses, the police came and shot at the men. A few addicts drowned.   

“I was there personally and documented it and spoke to the survivors,” she says. 

Amy has also been doing something similar in Kampala, Uganda. 

With a sad shake of her head, she says, “Police brutality is the same all over the world. The state becomes a perpetrator. So, there is a need to condemn official violence. It is necessary to find mechanisms to fight against this. In Colombia, just in the last one year, hundreds of social leaders and human rights defenders have been assassinated.” 

But when Amy sent reports to international organisations about what had happened, her team began to be persecuted by the Colombian and Ugandan governments. “Sadly, the Colombian media took the side of the government,” she says. “The media discounted the interviews we did by saying, ‘It's not enough evidence, we need more’. But my attitude is: any human life that is lost, needs to be denounced, and remembered. And our aim was to highlight the deaths.” 

Asked how policemen resort to violence so easily, Amy says, “There is a culture of masculinity in police forces in general. Violence-mongering is part of the training. They are taught to regard as criminal those who belong to certain ethnic or racial groups. Even in the United States, police officers are racist and violence-prone. They will kill brown or black people on the flimsiest of reasons.”

  

And, Amy says, growing up as a Latina woman and moving around in white spaces, was particularly violent. “I've experienced it in my own life,” she says. “Overall, the worst forms of oppression in any society are meted out by the police.” 

And she is worried even more now for Columbia because there is a right-wing President Iván Duque Márquez, who is in power. “He is militarising and investing a lot in the National Police,” she says. “Marquez is setting up a security state that criminalises poverty. That means if you're poor, there is a strong likelihood you will be shot dead. The poor have no rights anywhere in the world. Their lives are always precarious.” 

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

A fragrant passion

Ria Ivan who owns the boutique, 'Soap and Hope', brings an artistic touch to soap-making  

Photos by Albin Mathew 

By Shevlin Sebastian  

When her aunt Mary walked into Ria Ivan’s ninth-floor flat, at Kochi, and glanced at the dining room table, she said, “Mole (Daughter), you have made such beautiful halva.” 

Ria laughed when she heard that. She said, “Aunty, it’s not halva, but soaps.” 

Mary did a double-take and came close and held one in her hand. Then she said, “Unbelievable, Ria. I have not seen a soap like this.” 

Indeed, not many people have. Because Ria has designed them in the form of mermaids, pastries, flowers, angels, and candles. 

Asked how she got the idea, Ria says, “All soaps look normal and ordinary in the markets in India. So I thought why not make some which are attractive to people? So I decided to mix art and soap. That's how it started.”  

Ria has made two types: body range as well as souvenir soaps. “The souvenir soaps will not get spoiled unless water falls on it,” she says. “It can stay intact for a long time.” 

Recently, she got an order for the birthday party of her friend Shobha’s child. “Shobha called up and said her son wanted an Avenger-theme soap,” says Ria. “So I made Thor and Captain America and embedded the models in the soap. The boy was very happy when he received it. It was as if his favourite characters had suddenly come alive.”  

The Avenger soaps can be used as a handwash till the toy comes out or it can be used as a showpiece. “Most people prefer to use it to get a feel of its organic nature,” says Ria. 

Another friend Tincy is going to have a Noah's Ark themed party. “So they wanted animals,” says Ria, who is planning to make hippos, lions, and bears.

Asked how she gets the design, Ria says there are moulds for that. There is also something called soap dough. “The advantage of this dough is that we can mould it into any shape we want,” she says.   

For each soap, there is a distinctive fragrance. These include rose, lavender, water lily, . mango, blueberry, cherry, sandalwood, cedarwood, coffee, and aloe vera. 

As for her usable soaps, she says they are sulphate and paraben-free. One has an organic loofah embedded in it. “It is very good for the exfoliation of our skin,” says Ria. In other soaps, there are oats, cloves, cinnamon, honey and clay. There is also a massage soap made of moringa leaves. “There is a moringa tree in my parents’ garden in Pala,” says Ria. “I dried and powdered the leaves. It also has a lot of skin benefits so I thought why not incorporate it in a soap?” 

What is unusual about Ria is that she has an M Tech in nutritional biotechnology from SRM University, Chennai. A university topper, she was working as a researcher in the Kuwait Institute For Scientific Research. “I didn't find any joy in the lab,” says Ria, who grew up in Kuwait. “Cooking, arts, counselling and motivational speaking are what makes me happy.”  

But she has no regrets about her education. “Information and knowledge are always useful,” she says. 

Her boutique is called ‘Soap and Hope’ and she is all excited to develop her new passion. 

Or as she says, “I really enjoy making soaps and I put my soul into it and it's made with a lot of love and happiness.”  

And she also has another aim. “I also hope that, through my example, other women will follow their passion and create self-employment opportunities for themselves.”

(The New Indian Express, Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram)

The women’s time has come

At an exhibition match, at Bengaluru, blind women footballers played an impressive game. Now the Indian Blind Football Federation is moving full steam ahead to set up women’s teams all over the country as well as conduct tournaments

By Shevlin Sebastian

When Denita Lyngdoh stepped onto the pitch at the Bull Ring Football and Sports Arena, at Bengaluru, she felt a rising excitement within her. She was part of the five-member Bengaluru Red blind women’s football team. On the front of her red T-shirt can be seen the words, ‘Healing Lives’, while at the back there is the logo of the Tata Trusts. Her eyes are covered by a red mask. On her feet are red boots.  

Her team is playing a demonstration match against Bengaluru Blue. This took place during the men’s national football championships in April. Soon, she gets a pass from her colleague Mohini. The ball has ball bearings inside it. When it moves, there is a ringing sound, so Denita can get an idea of where it is. She runs forward with the ball. The opposing defenders have to shout ‘Voy Voy’ so that Denita does not crash into them.

She swerves past one defender, then the next. As she approaches the goal, a guide from behind the goalpost gives instructions to Denita on where the goalkeeper is standing as well as the distance between the two posts. Denita takes a shot. But she does not know whether the ball has gone in. Till the announcer says, on the public address system, “No 6 Denita has scored.”

Then she runs back, raising her arms skyward. “I don’t know how I did it,” she says, on a cloudy evening at a coffee shop in a mall at Bengaluru. “But I felt so happy when the ball went in.” As the match continues, Denita manages to score another goal...

Denita has always loved football. When she was growing up in the village of Marshillong in Meghalaya, she would play football with her brothers and sisters. But when she broke her spectacles a couple of times, while playing, her parents advised her to stop playing. She had been suffering from glaucoma from age four onwards. Now after decades, she had got another chance.

And so has her friend Namita Haloi, who is originally from Guwahati, but both are now based in Bengaluru now. “When I first played football, I loved the experience,” she says. “I was always interested in sports and took part in athletic competitions in school.”

Meanwhile, the Kochi-based Sunil J Mathew, the Sporting Director of the Indian Blind Football Federation (IBBF) as well as the head coach of the national team, says there are plans to put together women’s teams in Delhi, Bengaluru and the North East. “We are hoping to hold a six-team women’s tournament by the end of the year,” he says. “Efforts are on to train women coaches and trainers too. We will be conducting mini camps, along with awareness tours all over India.”  

Sunil has another goal: to put together a national team so that they can participate in the first World Championships in February, 2020 at Nigeria, which will be conducted by the International Blind Sports Federation. “Of course, we will have to get sponsors,” he says. “If we manage to put up a team, we will be the second, in Asia, after Japan.”

But the girls in Bengaluru are not waiting for developments. On most weekends, Denita, Namita, Mohini, who is from Uttam Pradesh, and locals like Nagaratnam and Jyoti go to a ground in Yeshwantpur and play for an hour under the guidance of their friend Dominic Nido, a 23-year-old visually challenged graduate, who is from Arunachal Pradesh. An avid footballer, he is now studying computer training.

Dominic gained a lot when Sunil invited him to Kochi to attend a coaching camp conducted by Ulrich Pfisterer, the chairman of the International Blind Sports Federation in September, 2017. “Ulrich taught us how to dribble, and to cut in from the side to the centre, how to score from a penalty kick and take corner kicks,” says Dominic. “I am passing this knowledge to the girls. They are all very enthusiastic and want to play a lot. I think football gives them a chance to express their personalities. Hopefully, Sunil Sir will be able to put up teams and hold tournaments soon.”  

Box:

Rules for blind football

In five-a-side blind football four players should be B1 (fully blind), while the goalkeeper can be B3, which means he can have partial sight, or be fully sighted.

The area of play is 40 x 20 metres. There are cushioned boards placed on all sides so that the ball does not go out. It also prevents players from hurting themselves. “Before the match, the referee places eye patches on the players to create total darkness, as some may have a slight perception of light,” says Sunil J Mathew, the coach of the Indian team. “A protective blindfold ensures that the players are protected from head injuries.” A game lasts 50 minutes, with a break of 10 minutes. During a match, players can be substituted any number of times.

(An edited version was published in Sunday Magazine, The New Indian Express, South India and Delhi)