Revel in the yellow mustard fields of rural Punjab

A visit to Punjab for me is never complete without stopping by fields. Blame it on Yash Raj for romanticising the sārasōna dē khētara (mustard fields) with peppy yellow flowers and billowy winds. So, when a winter visit was being planned, rural Punjab was definitely on the itinerary. At the risk of sounding clichéd, village visits for weary city dwellers can be an uplifting experience. Our stay in a traditional Punjabi kothi (an ancestral red-bricked home with an open courtyard), in the heart of Nawanpind Sardaran, in Gurdaspur district, proved to be just that — in the midst of lush pastoral landscapes, the chirping of birds of various hues, and the strains of percussion instruments in the air. Gurdaspur is the northernmost district of Punjab, flanked by the Beas and Ravi rivers. Nawanpind Sardaran is about 10 kilometres from Gurdaspur tehsil . We were a family of eight who spent our time taking long leisurely walks across mustard fields, waving at tractors rumbling by, and crunching sugarcane. Rural Punjab is a gastronomic delight. At the kothi , we were treated to simple yet delicious home-cooked meals, including the famed sarson ka saag and makki ki roti, the butter oozing from them. Eat, sleep, walk, followed by more eat, sleep, walk. And then sip hot chai on the charpoy. This is what we did in the two days we spent there. The adults also managed to find time to read, while the children ran around with complete abandon. The weather was cold and all of us were layered from top to toe. In winter, temperatures can plunge to below zero, but that is precisely what we sun-battered ‘Madrasis’ were craving. Imagine being huddled together in a tractor at sundown. As the temperature dipped and the tractor meandered through canals and fields, our spirits soared. Finally, we rushed into the kothi for some much-needed warmth by the fire.

Sikkim Saga

A Sikkim saga

Here you’ll discover that life can be slow, simple and stress-free

Sikkim is the ultimate summer getaway for those who want to chill in the quiet company of great weather, the mighty Kanchenjunga mountains, hot momos, and the book you promised yourself you’d to finish. Of course, from the moment we landed in Gangtok, the capital, it was all but a quiet holiday.

As the ‘seasoned’ travellers in the gang, everyone looked to my husband and me for travel guidance. With self-assumed smugness, we attempted to gather the group for some order. But we quickly realised it was a pointless exercise. So, we laid to rest our ‘plans’ and let Sikkim take over.

For the next five days, the Northeastern state, with its mountainous terrain, gurgling brooks, quaint cafés, rustic home stays, and endless alpine meadows took over our senses, in every possible way.

https://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/travel/here-youll-discover-that-life-can-be-slow-simple-and-stress-free/article19960534.ece

Kolkata chronicles

As summer beckons, a family from Chennai fondly recollects its winter vacation in the City of Joy.

My husband and I recently took a pledge to introduce our two sons to as many places in India as possible. For we believe nothing matches the diverse learning experience that travelling around the country provides. With a no-frills policy, we boarded the train to Kolkata.

As the landscape changed from lush green to brown and to green again, my husband and I relived childhood memories of long-distance train journeys. We also hoped our boys made their own memories, whenever they took their eyes off the gadgets in their hands.

There is something about the city of Kolkata that has, for long, evoked a sense of romanticism and old-world charm. We got a quintessential taste of the city right at arrival, as we were welcomed by busloads of protesters and those walking in hundreds, raising flags and shouting slogans and, of course, disrupting traffic. But we didn’t mind it, as we watched in glee, like excited school kids.

For the next three-and-a-half days, we shunted between being the zestful backpacker and the typical tourist, ticking off as many places as we could — from Howrah Bridge, Victoria Memorial and Kalighat temple to Writers’ Building, Belur Math and Science City, using all modes of transport — metro trains, trams, quaint yellow taxis and leisurely long walks.

What we will remember most about Kolkata are not the tourist places, but the images of a city caught in a time warp. Regal old buildings are as much part of the landscape as the glitzy malls and high-rise apartments. We stayed in one such old building — a colonial bungalow turned into a delightful home-stay, with antique furniture and rich textures.

Walking past the ragged bylanes and gullies that lead to the Kalighat temple, staving off touts who promise to take you right up to the goddess’ feet for a fee, we were astonished to spot ancient buildings from an era long gone.

An unhurried ride in the tram along the crowded streets perfectly sums up the character of a city that moves at its own pace. It is amazing that the tram is still the lifeline of many people to get to work and back after a tiring day.

We spent the evenings strolling along the famous Park Street and the nearby streets, gazing at the Christmas twinkle lights and learning the art of manoeuvring jaywalkers.

When the hunger pangs hit us, we desperately looked for a restaurant to eat at, but we soon discovered that street food is what the Bengalis swear by. Street fare in Kolkata is not just an enjoyable gastronomic experience, but also a great social binder, as the rich and less fortunate alike dig into roadside chat and sandwiches with no qualms.

While our knowledge of Kolkata sweets started and stopped with KC Das, we quickly learnt that every Bengali has a neighbourhood sweet stall he or she owes allegiance to. Despite not having a sweet tooth, we ended up stuffing ourselves with rasgullas, rasmalai, rabri and mishti doi from a tiny, nondescript shop that closely guards its sweet secrets.

The chilly December evenings over steaming hot matka chai, the colourful shawls wrapped around the elderly, the youngsters in hip winter jackets, the spicy chowmein that the city seems to have appropriated, adding its own USP, and the quaint boutiques that sell gorgeous cotton saris and stoles made the short trip a fairly immersive experience. While I wanted to listen to some Rabindra Sangeet, the boys wouldn’t hear of it. Maybe next time, I told myself. For Kolkata is not a city you visit just once.

https://www.thehindu.com/features/metroplus/travel/Kolkata-chronicles/article14213435.ece

Unease in the air…

Haven’t we at some point of time tolerated people who were mean to us, just because we loved them? Even if it defied all logic and sense, didn’t we go bouncing back to the person who hurt us and trampled our emotions? Even though our mind told us it is not right and we deserved better, didn’t we let our hearts rule—at least for some time, till we reached a tipping point, till we told ourselves ‘enough is enough’, till love turned into loathe (of course, it just took minutes to forgive and love again!) In retrospect, it is worrisome that we let someone ‘rule’ and ‘overpower’ our thoughts and actions. Yet we did. Maybe in our teenage. Maybe in our twenties. Maybe even now…


Why? Is it under the hope that love alone is enough to transform people and heal all wounds? What is that crazy streak in us that makes us cling to someone so badly and does not let us move away from the scene of hurt, misery and agony? This is what Kaatru Veliyidai made me wonder about, more than anything else. 

Kaatru Veliyidai is an intensely disturbing and unnerving movie that left me gasping and squirming. I felt anger and resentment simmering in me. I was not happy with VC treating Leela Abraham, a self-respecting doctor, badly, time and again, and a large part of me wished that Leela would just leave him. But then another part of me felt haunting sorrow. This voice said, “Well, don’t leave him. He needs your help.” Perhaps Leela realised this too.

VC is shown as a self-centred, rude man who has all kinds of issues, while Leela is this hopelessly-in-love, vulnerable, doe-eyed damsel who barters common sense and intelligence at the altar of the man she has had a crush on ever since her high school days. It is almost as if her senses vanish under the brute force of her infatuation. She is clearly enamoured by VC and his aircraft-flying prowess and handsomeness. It is so evident in the way she looks at him. She is smitten for sure. So much that she is forced to sweep certain distressing truths under the carpet.

There is shock writ large on Leela’s face when she witnesses his horrific acts of selfishness, outright rudeness and chauvinism, but she gives in to his barrage of his emotional apologies and loud proclamations of love. (VC doesn’t simply say ‘sorry’. He utters a ‘sorry’ train.) There is something about him that makes Leela look beyond his annoying cock-eyed stares.

This 'fallacy' (if I may call it so) exists in all of us. In some form or the other. Mild, severe or somewhere in between. Don’t we brush aside what we don’t want to focus upon? I am not defending VC’s pathetic behaviour, oh no for sure! Nor am I saying it is okay to condone abuse if you truly love someone. I am just saying some of us are ‘guilty’ of letting people hurt us and we keep going back for more. 

So, it may not be fair to say Mani Ratnam’s portrayal of VC normalises abusive behaviour, although it may come across to some people like that. And that’s perhaps because Mani Ratnam failed to move beyond establishing the nuances of the characters (which he does in a way only he can!) of Leela and VC.

While we are told here is a raw, naked and stormy relationship with the dominance-submission equation, Mani Ratnam stops there. I wish he had dug deeper to give us more. For instance, what exactly does Leela see in VC? What is she searching for in him? Does she think here is a helpless man who cares deep down, though he doesn’t know how to express it in a positive manner. Though Leela knows this man is no good for her, she is unable to decipher why she keeps going back to him like a puppy. Wish the director had spent more time unravelling Leela’s inner struggles and her forgiving nature. Unfortunately, the story takes a giant turn and gets busy with VC’s prison break attempts. (So, this means how VC transforms from ‘selfish’ to ‘caring’ is also not convincingly portrayed.)  

While I didn’t expect Mani Ratnam to solve the complexities of the relationship (perhaps there is no logical answer and maybe we should stop looking for one!), the director doesn’t go beyond scratching the surface to explore the (Freudian?) undercurrents. And therein lies the tragedy of Kaatru Veliyidai.

UNCONDITIONING A CONDITIONED MIND

TOWARDS A STEREOTYPE-LESS SOCIETY -  1

This is part one of a series of posts that hope to bring to light the stereotypes that exist in the everyday life of an urban family in Chennai. The intention is not to mock society or ridicule people but it is an attempt to move towards a stereotype-less society.

                             

                                                      

Recently, an elder in the family corrected my seven-year-old son’s usage / pronunciation of a certain word in Tamil. “It isn’t the right way to speak,” she told him. To her, the ‘right’ way meant the Brahminical way of speaking. What my son had uttered was a phrase that was not part of the Brahmin lexicon. It was the way his non-Brahmin friends spoke.

I politely, yet firmly, told her that I did not believing in 'fixing' the way my son spoke, just because it didn’t sound ‘nice’ to her generation of puritans.

If language is a medium of communication, then how does it matter how it is spoken? What’s in a language? Who decides what is ‘right’ for whom and what sounds ‘good’? Why should anyone speak only in a certain clannish way and not in any other way? Why is there a need to ‘protect’ one’s practices from external influences?

Lest I am accused of Brahmin-bashing, let me place on record that it is not just the Brahmins. Everywhere around the world, people try to preserve their accents, while deriding other dialects. And the Tamil Brahmin manner of speaking has also been subject to a fair share of derision and scrutiny.

Instead of celebrating the diversity of dialects, accents and ways of speaking, we as a generation are guilty of having needless hang-ups that smack of ignorance and insecurity. Little do we realise that we are shamelessly perpetuating stereotypical thinking among young minds. By correcting the manner in which a child speaks, we may be drawing invisible lines and codes of conduct that make very little sense in today’s day and age. Our minds for long have been conditioned to think in a certain manner that ‘unconditioning’ it is not so easy. But it has to be done. 

As I bring up my two boys, I am fighting a constant, conscious and vigilant battle to ensure the influence on them with respect to stereotypes is minimal, if not zilch. 

***

Also read: http://www.newindianexpress.com/cities/chennai/Its-Time-to-Do-Away-With-Tam-Brahm/2016/03/17/article3330450.ece

Starting afresh...

A big salute to the auto driver who drove people for free, the good samaritan at the pharmacy who let an old woman buy medicines even when her credit card failed to work and the droves of young volunteers who are relentlessly helping thousands of flood victims at relief camps and makeshift shelters in the city of Chennai, which was ravaged by nature's fury last week.

With neighbours helping each other, employers reaching out to its employees, people opening up their homes to strangers and getting together to clean the streets, the humane side of the so-called 'conservative' city has come to the fore. In fact, a child was reduced to tears thinking of the plight of the animals in the zoo. There is nothing 'conservative' about the way people of the city have reached out to its fellow citizens in kind and spirit.

It is also heartening to see social media being put to good use, with useful information, contacts and hopeful messages being passed on. This has overpowered the usual rants and blame-games. A big 'Like' here.

May the spirit of the people continue to pour. Yes, there have been reports of chaos and commotion during distribution of relief materials and people making a quick buck or two and exploiting the situation, but let us choose not to dwell on that. Also, the politics and whys-and-wherefores behind the floods can wait for now.

For some of us who didn't have to wade through dirty water or be rescued in boats, even being without internet and power for 3-4 days may have seemed like living in the Dark Ages. Look on the bright side: the rains gave a lot of us a chance to live like 'normal' human beings.

The floods didn't spare anyone. Water became a great leveller as everyone - the rich and famous, the economically backward and the middle-class - got hit. The intensity of the losses may vary, but the pain and agony are the same. For those whose life's savings and valuable belongings got washed away, words of encouragement and assurances will go a long way in their road to recovery. Yes, we need to hit the road, and fast.

With last week's nightmare behind, the people of Chennai start a new week with hope and courage. The city is keen to pick up the pieces and start afresh.

While some are still on an extended holiday with companies continuing to reel under knee-deep water, Monday saw many people put on big smiles and march to work. Their smiles may hide many a tears, but they won't let the world know that. Hopefully, as the week rolls by more people will join the workforce and move on... for life does go on, rain or shine.

'Limping back to normalcy' is what the newspapers and TV channels like to call it. But let us skip the 'limping' and try the 'leaping'.

Come on, Chennai. There can be no better way to recover and heal our wounds than working our way through it. Let us scrub, clean up and get ready to face the world again. It is not going to be easy. But we have seen the worst already.

When the neighbourhood shop knows you well...

Trips to the neighbourhood toy shop are always so eventful with me trying hard to dissuade my six year-old from wanting to buy everything he sees. My son knows the shop too well and before I know it, he is in the store basement where all his favourite cars and trains are tucked in. The sales girls know him well and they are only too happy to show him the 'latest'. Dragging him out of the shop is not an easy task. But this is not why I will remember this particular trip to the shop.

I recall it because the shop-keeper remembered that I do not take the plastic bags the shop hands out to its customers. So, when the girl at the bill desk tried to stuff my son's loot in the red-and-white shopping bag, the owner intervened and said, "Madam doesn't like plastic bags." I don't know if that was meant as a compliment, but I sure took it as one. Full marks to the shop for remembering its customers and her shopping habits.

There are a few things that irk a nature lover and one such is the ubiquitous plastic bag. Yes, it is still ubiquitous, despite efforts by retailers to prevent customers from demanding one. And there are other things that make a green lover see red... 

My story in the Alternative forum that appeared early this year. Still holds true...

http://www.thealternative.in/lifestyle/5-things-that-can-make-a-green-lover-see-red/

Being a green lover can be frustrating, especially when you’re starting off and trying to get family and friends to think the same way. Here’s how.

Swetha Kannan   Jan 8, 2015

 

I believe in being green. At first I thought this was a simple lifestyle to follow. But I was wrong. Here is why; often, simple rules are easily forgotten, taken for granted, or tweaked to suit personal objectives.

1. Plastic bags

Pic – Zainub Razvi | Flickr

Take for instance, the case of the ubiquitous plastic bags. A couple of years ago, I tried hard to get rid of them from my life completely. But I soon realised I was alone in this battle. Even as I followed a strict ‘no polythene bag’ policy at home, it always somehow found its way into my house, through my father who thought vegetables would rot otherwise, or my husband who sheepishly said he had forgotten to carry a cloth bag.

After months of tireless explaining, pleading, yelling, and sometimes even threatening, I managed to persuade my husband to do the right thing. He has now placed cloth bags everywhere—in the bike, car, and near the house entryway too. The battle with my father’s generation continues but I will not give up.

2. Zip-lock bags

Pic – Jack Kennard | Flickr

Zip-lock bags are another invasion I detest completely. Sure, they are handy to pack pickles and podis (edible powders) when you travel, but they are a menace at the end of the day. My mother-in-law is often upset that I don’t have enough plastic bags at home for her to pack the home-made pickles for distribution among relatives. I am suffering needlessly, she seems to think. Well, I would rather ‘suffer’ without plastics, than suffer with them.

3. Paper bags

Pic – [puamelia] | Flickr

If use of plastic bags gets my antennae up, so does the excessive use of paper bags. Many of us think we can reuse them while gifting. But how many do we really need? I only I see scores of paper bags lying around crumpled at homes. The frustration deepens when I see toilet rolls, tissue papers, air-conditioners, and hand sanitisers being used indiscriminately.  (My cleanliness freak husband can never have enough of the sanitiser!)

4. Commuting

Pic – Ramesh NG | Flickr

I am far from being perfect in the green world. For instance, my husband loves to take the public transport whenever, wherever possible. My older son too loves a good bus ride. But this is yet to rub off on me completely for reasons of comfort and laziness. But I do realise the serious need to inculcate a sense of pride in using public transport, especially among children who have become the victims of needless pampering.

Huge chauffeur-driven cars dropping off one child at the school is a common sight today. This achieves precious little except traffic snarls near school gates. World over, people are switching to greener fuels and smaller cars or using the cars only on weekends. But in India we still feel the need to flaunt. Or convenience always seems to score over consciousness.

5. Energy resources

Pic – romana klee | Flickr

Conscious use of resources is a value we need to instil in our children. And I am thankful to my husband for being quite the nag when it comes to saving electricity. He has taken it upon himself to teach my children simple things like switching off fans and lights when not in use, or turning on the tap only as and when required.

Of course, we still have a long way to go before we can call ourselves truly green. We are green in some respects and not-so-green in others. We haven’t completely turned to organic living and that is work in progress. I have also just started exploring options for recycling or upcycling things. This is an attempt that has met with resistance or disbelief from friends and family.

“Why are you still hanging on to broken mugs and pails? Can’t you afford a nice pot for your plants?” someone asked me the other day. Should I bother explaining? Or should I just shrug my shoulders and walk away?