Of People and Places

Part two of the conversation with Abhishek. To read part one of this conversation – click here . Many of the questions that he struggles with, I struggle with too. Some I had thought I had put to peace, but I was mistaken. We talk about things that make me uncomfortable. Stepping out of one’s comfort zone, to confront, to look truth in the eyes – It needs courage doesn’t it? Continued… So you think theatre can play an important role in bringing about change. Theatre can be a powerful influence. In the history of theatre performance in India, most plays were written for the stage, for the middle class and the elite. After independence, the style of writing changed – but even these plays were for people who were wealthy enough to give patronage to theatres. In parallel, a movement began – of working with the common people and performing amid them. Prithvi theatre and IPTA (Indian People’s Theatre Association) – used to go to towns and villages an...

Summers were all about watermelon in Udupi. We - me and my sister, never felt the scorching heat that used to bother the adults around us. It was all about endless days of playing, running wild and whiling away time. We would strip down to our undies and be duly handed slices of  cold watermelon to eat. We would polish them off slowly. The juice trickled down our chins and stained our drawers, but we ate it with abandon. That's my sister spitting out the seeds like a pro : D It was also that time of my childhood which must have been a trial for my parents, now that I think of it. You know the time,  when your  milk teeth are falling out, and you are increasingly difficult, annoying and doing all the socially inappropriate things that are hilarious in retrospect, but not so funny, especially to one's parents at the time. The Dennis the menace years, I would call them :) So go on and find yourself a slice of nostalgia this summer and let's say cheers to those good old...

The Women who bring rice to our plates Paddy transplanting is done exclusively by women in India. And I was interested to find that in Japan, before mechanization, transplanting by hand was exclusively done by women too while the men supervised them. There was an interesting scene in ' Shichinin no samurai'  (Seven Samurai)   by Akira Kurosawa where women stoop in the fields to plant rice in neat rows by hand, while the men sing and draw water for the fields. In Harlimath too, it is a similar scene and men prepare the land and drive the bullocks to get the field ready for the next batch of seedlings. The hired women workers assemble in brightly clad clothes with raincoats and polythene covers, neatly tied scarves topped by a Hale toppi ( A cap fashioned out of Areca leaf), and a collared shirt buttoned up over all this. They look snug and warm. They are probably going to need it because they will wade knee deep in the cold slush of the fields for most of the day wh...

I spent Makar Sankranti   last January at the house of a friend in Jaipur.   This was the first time I saw a paper lantern in the night sky. The first time I was part of a mohalla kite fight. We spent a greater part of the day flying kites. I should perhaps say I did this platonically, since a novice like me is no match for the veterans who mean business as far as kite flying is concerned.   But to my credit, I didn’t let it swoop low whenever it was generously passed on to my hands :D   All around on the rooftops and the roads, in the scorching midday sun schoolboys, girls and old men flew their kites with so much glee that you could see it was their own soul that was soaring and not just the kites.   We went near hawa mahal for a bit of sightseeing in the evening. To know why Jaipur is called ‘the pink city’ you must go out in the evening a few hours before sundown.     The rosy pink of the evening light and the earthy pink and reds of mos...

I had heard so much about baobab trees and I finally had a chance to meet one at Mandu. Mandu or Mandav is an ancient fortress town in the Malwa region of Madhya Pradesh. It is a place after my own heart with ruins scattered all over the place making it a town of breathtaking beauty. Much more about Mandu later (I haven’t even begun!) Let’s go back to our baobab tree. Fields with yellow and green dot the path to the village and in the midst stand these curious trees.   They have massive trunks that store water. To me, they look like a cross between a bottle and an elephant – and I find their shape comforting.   These trees are native to Africa. I am curious to know how they got here! Apparently, they are among the most ancient trees on earth.  Locals sell the baobab tree seeds, they are called   Mandu ki imli. They taste like tamarind but have this incredible zing and saltiness. I liked it but not a good idea to eat too much of it (My cavities are tingling at...

The way to Nainital from Kathgodam. Uttarakhand welcomed me with her arms wide open, as the bus turned yet another hairpin bend. Her pines glistened in the winter sun and the small mountain streams twinkled at me like her two merry eyes.   Two places have filled me with infinite delight because of their tininess – Gokarna and Nainital.   I cannot describe what I felt when I finally reached the Tallital bus stand.The Naini lake stood there in majesty with the town all around her. From the cycle rickshaw that I sat in, I drank in all the beauty surrounding me. Truly you do not  know what sunlight means to you unless you are out on a winter’s day in the hills. And the sun is so caressing, it fills you with warmth. Picture if you can a tiny teardrop of water, surrounded by higgledy-piggledy houses amid tall trees. Add to that a gloriously clear baby blue sky with dreamy clouds. That is what I saw on the ropeway. It must be so beautiful to see it in the night....

To the lighthouse Up, up, all the way up. The dizzying spiral never comes to an end. You hold on to the railing for balance, and then you look down and you gasp! Your climb to the top is not without its rewards. Where else would you feel on top of the world; the sea – your kingdom, the colorful boats in its eddies – your subjects. You are high enough to get a bird’s eye view of the birds! I see a family of kites and their nest in one of the trees below. There’s a delightful little stream that has escaped from the beach, like a naughty child, and made inroads into the sand. The vast sense of scale, of space in the Arabian Sea is mesmerizing. If you look closely you might spot dolphins shimmering in the sunlight as they discreetly find their way to the surface. I am atop Kapu lighthouse, a 115 year old heritage lighthouse a few kilometers inland from the quaint town of Kapu near Udupi in Karnataka. It is a functional lighthouse over the choppy Arabian Sea, having guided...

On a recent trip to Maharashtra, I saw this kaka and kaki at the Pune Railway station. They must have been on their way to Pandharpur. I have seen devotees making their way to Pandharpur in hordes singing beautiful abhangs, taking their entire family with them. The Varkaris generally make this annual pilgrimage by foot.   Elders and little children walk too, and there is scarcely a break in the singing and music. There is something divine, whether you are a believer of god or not, in voices raised to a common tune, in exaltation of something outside the self. I would like to go with them once. In the month of Ashadh Ekadashi, trains in Maharashtra are filled with pilgrims on their way to Pandharpur. Maybe I will join them. Who knows, I may meet this old couple I saw at the Pune railway station.